San Francisco: Fever
Sometimes it is the eyes that get you.
They lock on and you cannot look away whatever you do. They hold you faster than even the warm smooth hands around your naked waist and buttocks.
They come closer and closer until two eyes almost become one eye. Then those eyes are only there because they have burned themselves into your mind behind your now closed eyes.
They continue to stare at you hard with a hunger soon to be vanquished as the moistness of his plush lips press up to yours and suck tight. Your stare into his eyes in your mind as you accept his breath as your own and you return it with the escalating pants.
His smooth hands grip and knead your naked glutes, pushing them together and pulling them apart as your sexes align. Both of you then attempt to push into each other’s warm spaces between your legs. It seems as if you see his eyes in your mind narrow and even wince with unrestrained passion. The passion pushes the wet velvet of his tongue between your lips and at last, he has penetrated you . . .
. . . for the first time!
His eyes are a blue the colour of the fjords of his homeland. They hold an old beauty that is as deep and wild as the glacial waters of the North Sea.
The fire in his wolf-like eyes is completely predatory. You have hungered for each other from the start and now you have been given leave to feast.
You are seeing through my eyes and you are feeling through my touch for you are experiencing the dream which I am having.
I am at table readying myself to dig into this sumptuous experience. This avalanche of passion has gripped me and I have lost all control. I could weep for joy or with incredible sorrow because both feelings move in me with equal pull.
This is so wrong and yet it feels so very right!
Kristoffer Sørensen uses his broad shoulders and sleek but bulging arms to pick my six-foot-plus frame from the ground to lay me on the Swedish mattress. By instinct, my legs wrap around his waist and I feel my heels press into the spongy hardness of his well-developed bottom. Upon laying me down he settles a comfortable part of his warm weight between my thighs and against my fluttering stomach.
I feel his ridged sex glide tantalisingly against my twitching and vulnerable place. It forces a slight whimper out of me as I feel my own arousal sandwiched between Kris’s ripped stomach muscles and my own.
I feel his lips, mouth, and tongue begin to snack on the sublime sensitivity of my neck behind my earlobe. I find myself giggling, squirming, and writhing under him which increases the friction on our sexes pressed into our various places. I have never been much into bottoming, but at this moment all I want is for him to enter me and scratch that sweet itch deep inside me that so needs scratching so very badly!
As if reading my mind he reaches down between my legs and massages my sensitive ring which responds by opening my little hole to admit his finger. Gently he pushes in and I, at first, feel discomfort, but I know to relax. As I do, I admit him into me further there. Soon, Kris has both index and middle fingers inside loosening me. The sensations go from slight pain to unbelievable pleasure in a matter of seconds.
I find myself grinding my hips as he pumps his fingers in and out of me getting my body ready for this motion with a bigger member. Really, Kris is big all over!
He raises on his haunches, takes the bottle of lubricant, and prepares us both. My white legs are set wide and they look fever red in the scented candlelight of the Loft. The liquid gel feels tingly cool, even cold, on the undersides of my thighs.
A strangled little whine comes from my throat as I feel the aching hard tip of Kris’s sex press into my pulsing vulnerability. His mouth gapes open just a little and his beautiful pink-red lips engorge and his Nordic pale cheeks blush rosy as the first wave of pleasure sings through him. Now it is his turn to whimper and breathe a shuddered breath of barely restrained ecstasy!
He passes in about a third of the way when the inner ring of my channel bares the gentle assault of my lover’s glans. It resists and a sharp pain rises in me. I suck in my breath and stiffen reflexively. I have accepted love into my body before, but it has been a while. My body must learn again how to respond to the desired intrusion.
I work against Kris encouraging him to push past the pain. My athletic training has me breathe rhythmically as I bear it and finally . . . Ahhhhh!
He is in and he feels SO wonderful within me! The last vestiges of pain in my inner workings sizzle away and are replaced by this wonderful fullness. Kris’s shape and angle are perfect. On his first stroke, he finds my prostate and it nearly sends me into an instant climax.
I moan low and then higher as Kris begins his rhythmic thrusting. Each stroke nudges my pleasure spot and I am near to crying with pleasure. My sex pulses and jerks each time he rubs it from behind through my body’s inner walls.
Before long the fever builds and he collapses on top of me pressing his increasingly ruddy, hot, and thrumming body onto me with his full torso. I feel his heartbeat faster than a hummingbird’s next to mine and the vocalisations coming from him sound desperate and increasingly so.
I come to my climax first! It is so sudden and so volcanic that it feels more like an internal explosion in me rather than an orgasm. I bellow aloud in surprise, “OOGH-OOOOOOOOOoooooo…” and my body goes rigid. I feel my muscles clamp down on Kris from everywhere. My iron legs nearly crush him about the waist and my arms pull his face into my neck with irresistible force.
The powerful contractions inside me work Kris so vigorously that he needn’t move anymore to be stimulated to his own explosion. I feel him go ridged on top of me and his hands reach below me to grip hard my bottom cheeks. “UNGH UNNNNN!” He groans almost painfully as he empties his flood into my body. His hips grind me between my gripping legs. His groans become wheezing, panting gasps and I fear his heart might stop. I barely register that Kris is actually biting my shoulder and neck gently as his tongue and lips work the skin there.
He is actually shivering as he comes down from his climax. I attempt to catch my breath and finally feel the sheen of sweat on his body and on mine. We both burn with our raging hot blood! A fever . . .
A fever that wakes me up panting and breathless in our bed together. I find myself here, with my beloved Brian, covered with sweat and my front sticky from other wetness. The sheets in front of me are soaked with my semen and my penis is still achingly hard and painful at the tip from the excited nerves there. Truly, I feel fortunate that I got to be ‘Little Spoon’ tonight and Brian got to be ‘Big Spoon’ or I may have either covered him with my juices or torn into him in my sleep which would have been so much worse.
As it is, in his sleep, I feel Brian’s hardness against my naked behind. I must have been moving in my dream which excited him in his sleep. I move a bit to get out of bed and he gently grips me tighter to himself as if I am some kind of naked teddy bear. I feel his member probe deeper into my crevice brushing against my budded opening. Something in me desperately wants to impale myself on him. Again, I am usually never a bottom and Brian is seldom a top, but when things are working in that direction I can be more than flexible. My dream of Kris has awakened that internal itch in my waking reality.
I hear him whimper a little in my ear as his thrusting becomes more insistent. In his dream, he must have me (or someone) in his grasp with whom he is making love. I feel a sudden sharp pang of guilt that my dream did NOT star my beautiful lover. Why had it taken that turn? Why had it been Kris in my dream and not Brian? Why did it have to be so . . . passionate!
This guilt, as well as this mounting desire to experience awake what I had when I was asleep, causes me to reach into the open drawer and find the lubricant. It is Brian’s favourite cherry flavour. An odd thought comes into my head as I taste a bit of it on my fingers. I am quite sure my grandmother would have delighted in putting this into a cake or pulla bun.
I gently smear the lubricant on Brian’s now raging arousal which causes a low moan to escape his dreaming mouth. I work some into myself and then I merely position myself so that Brian aligns with me properly and naturally for what his body desires. My insides hunger for him now. I have never wanted to be filled so much in my life as in this moment . . . just like my dream!
Instinct and the seeming hot nature of Brian’s dream cause him to push into me ever so slowly. I can’t help but gasp at the sensation of being opened and then there is the expected sharp pain of my inner workings trying to close to keep the beloved guest out. How rude of my body! I push back and Brian pushes forward with a panted sleeping breath and then he is in with just a slight grunt from me.
He is even better than Kris in my dream. He is right in there, right in the very place I want him to be. Brian can do it in his sleep . . . Dream-Kris had to be awake to do that!
Inside his world, Brian must feel the shiver his body is giving him as my muscles contract and massage his sex. He emits a higher-pitched moan of sudden sexual excitement and he begins to pump.
I hold a throw pillow in front of my mouth and bite down onto it to stifle the sounds of the wild pleasure and pain Brian is giving to me. His moans become whimpers as I feel him quickly rise to a climax. He will not last as long as Kris did in my dream, but then I must have been giving Brian quite a lap dance for the duration of my unfortunately wonderful time with Kris.
“Thasss it, Baybeee. Taaake it. Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!” Brian’s voice begins to rise as his pumping becomes instinctively harder inside of me. Shorter time or not, I know I am going to cum very soon and very hard. I never lost my erection from my dream!
“Oooh, Fuck. Take it! TAKE IT. YEAH…OH FUCK!” Brian must partially awaken as the orgasm grips him.
“UoooOO-UNNGGGggh!” I groan loudly as my ejaculation explodes again with the same force it must have when I was dreaming. My heart is pumping like a trip-hammer and my body trembles as the sugar-shocks of my orgasm makes me lose partial control of my movements. I get wonderful chills all over me as I find myself backing into Brian’s front pushing his member deeper inside of me. The contractions and this pressure are too much for Brian.
“OHHHH! GAWDDAYM JIMMY! OHHHH FFFF–UUUUAAAHHH!” Brian explodes inside of me and his hips pump sharply with each spasm of his huge orgasm. It is actually a much better sex than what I had dreamt of with Kris!
Except, now . . . I know that Brian had been dreaming of someone else too. Despite the ‘just desserts’ of having my dreaming infidelity thrown back in my face so innocently, I feel a sickness enter my stomach and my pounding heart suddenly slows and skips a few beats.
Jimmy? He was dreaming of sex with Jimmy and I was dreaming of sex with Kris. What has happened to us?
“Whoa! Wha’ happin’? How’d I get stuck up your ass?” Brian asks me groggily as I feel him gently pop out of me, his manhood again quite flaccid and comfortably drained.
“You were dreaming. I helped.” I answer listlessly and move to get out of bed.
“Where you goin’? I wanna cuddle! I just topped ya, an’ I’m all in shock and shit. I’m ‘scared’!” Brian teases me. I try to smile, but my lips won’t work right.
“I’ll be back . . . in a little bit,” I say trying to keep my voice from strangling on the lump in my throat. I rise and pad off out of the bedroom of Brian’s condo and out into the kitchen where I can find some Finnish Solace (Finlandia Vodka).
I pour myself a generous helping and find myself wandering over to the living room bay window in the dark. From here I can look down on Mission St. Even this late, or maybe early is a better description, things go on down there. Mostly homeless people pushing stolen shopping carts or late-night revelers staggering home. I sip my vodka and let its sweet medicinal flavour seep down my throat. Unfortunately, it does not numb the growing pain in my heart. Slowly . . . I am sure it is breaking.
Already we wander, Brian and I. Already we dream of the others we could be with. Already we are thinking of somebody else.
Have we finished with each other already? So soon? Not even a year did we last. What is wrong with me that no one can stand to be close to me for long? Not even a year.
“Hey, Snowbunny? Why are y’all out here alone in the dark?” Brian has come behind me so quietly that I did not even hear him at all. I feel his hands come under my arms and around my chest to gently fondle my pecs. He hugs me close. I feel his heart in my back and it beats with the same deep beat that his love has always beat with. Nothing has changed for him. He still loves me. I can feel it.
I still love him too . . . desperately. I put my hands on his hands and squeeze them. A shuddering breath comes from inside my chest and I feel Brian’s hug loosen.
“You’re . . . cryin’? Was I that bad? I was asleep, ya know. I can’t be held accountable for my performance when I wasn’t even there to enjoy it. Hehehehe!” Brian chuckles, but it only makes the tears come harder. I sniffle.
I feel a kiss on my shoulder.
“Talk to me, Sweetheart? What’s wrong? Tell me, please. K?” He asks with such loving calm. He does still love me. He must, but will he after we ‘talk’?
“It is ok. I just had a bad dream. You comforted me even in your sleep. Thank you.” I respond evasively but with a telling creak in my broken voice.
“Naw, now! You can’t hide like that from me anymore, Snowplow! I know that routine. You go all cold and robotic when you can’t stand somethin’. It don’t work. Our brains don’t do that. We aren’t machines. We HAVE to let out the pain or it will chew us up. Tell me, please. There’s nothin’ I’ve not heard before.” Brian holds me a little closer and I feel that I cannot get away. It is true. Brian has taught me not to hide and I must honour his training.
It may be the last thing I can take with me back into the coldness of being all alone again.
“You were dreaming and so was I. But . . . we were both dreaming of being with somebody else. We were with others rather than each other. I do not know why.” I admit the cold truth. I expect Brian to become hot and angry and to tear at me like the lion he can be.
But instead, he rests his cheek on my back and kisses my shoulder blade.
“So what? People dream about all kinds of stuff. It’s just a way of processing things. Even sexy dreams. It’s perfectly natural and healthy.” Brian assures me drawing from that vast reservoir of brain knowledge that I always forget he has. That unique wisdom of the kind of doctor he is becoming.
“I dreamt of Kris. You dreamt of Jimmy. When you . . . came . . . you cried out Jimmy’s name and not mine. I instigated sex with you because I had just had the first wet dream I’ve had since adolescence dreaming of being topped by Kris Sørensen.” I widen the breach. Surely Brian will hate me as I deserve now. That thought makes a sob break from me and I quickly down the rest of my drink in a quick punishing swallow that makes me grimace.
“Awww, Baby, don’t cry! Don’t . . .” then I hear him sniffle and I feel a wetness on my back. Brian has begun to weep too.
“I . . . can’t stand it when you cry, Snowflake! Please don’t . . .” On instinct, I turn and take my beloved up in my arms and we hold one another by the window . . . sobbing like children with no presents on Christmas morning.
“I never want to betray you. I never want to cheat on you in my dreams or any other time. But, Kris causes me to hunger in the ways I used to hunger in my old life when I did not care for anything but getting off. He has been haunting me ever since that night in The Café. I do not know what to do with these feelings. They are so beyond me!” I say quietly to Brian who looks into my eyes with those sapphire ones of his own.
I see the red in those eyes and I see the tears. But they are not the tears I expected. They are not the tears of a broken, betrayed heart. They are tears that hurt because I am hurting.
“I think it’s time to go to the Loft, you and I. I think it’s high time we got some of this pent-up sexual frustration out of our systems. There’s nothing to say that you and I can’t enjoy other men and not still be in love with each other. We’re gay and we have both been around the block a few times. I don’t think a little sex on the side will break us up as long as we know we’re doing it.” Brian says to me with dazzling clarity. It is something I never even once considered!
To me, infidelity was infidelity, and yet, Sabrina and I ‘cheated’ knowingly all the time. But then again, she was not my soulmate.
“But, how can you say that? We would be betraying each other! We would no longer belong just to us!” I am trying to process it, but the concept is so strange that I do not know what to do with it. I ask not with anger but out of pure bewilderment. As per usual, my beloved Brian Chesney has spun me around with an angle of perspective that I could never conceive of on my own. It makes the proposal hard to accept . . . at first.
“Sex is sex, Snowflake. It’s one body matching the chemistry of another body. For straights, there’s always the possibility of a baby so there’s a responsibility on the father and mother to be together so they can raise what they’ve created together. Unfortunately, most of them that fuck don’t really give a crap and so they have a kid they don’t want. That there . . . is the sin.” Brian explains sagely. I find myself sitting on the couch as he stands there like some nude Apollo giving me the secrets of the universe.
“Before the AIDSdies, gay guys had a polyamorous existence. They’d have a ‘boyfriend’ and then they’d have ‘fuck buddies’.” Brian continues. I find the cross-reference between the Eighties and AIDS rather genius in an excessively dark way.
“Everybody in the pool fucked the shit out of one another all the time. Sex was not the great ‘cumming together’ of soulmates. It was a physical sport everyone with any sense enjoyed a lot with anybody willing and wanted it.” This is interesting because it reflects so perfectly the kind of relationships I had in Finland. Men having each other for pleasure but staying together in friendship. It created a very strong community bond few dared break. It became a truism in Helsinki ‘not to mess with the gays’. They could be dangerously crazy if you messed with them too much. It was a brotherhood forged intimately.
“Well, with proper care and precautions, it’s possible to be Gay like the Seventies these days, to some degree. We don’t have the procreation thing sex has for straight people and, if done in the right spirit, sex between gay friends doesn’t have to be a jealous angsty thing.” Brian continues. He is showing me a side to things I never looked at before.
I’m called to remember the old stories of ancient Sparta and the 300! Homosexuality was encouraged by this nation of warriors. It created a bond that was more than just camaraderie. It was forged in physical love for one another. You fought for your brother because he was your own flesh and blood. That made them the fiercest warriors in the Mediterranean at the time. It is sometimes said that the Vikings bore similar relations with one another which made them the most feared of all the ‘barbarians’ of the Middle Ages. It is through the Vikings that I feel this connection to history.
“We form different bonds with sex than straight folks do. It’s just the way most of us gay guys are wired, I’ve found. It doesn’t mean that the love that we have for each other is any less or the trust we have is any different.” Brian comes to sit next to me and takes my hands which have gone cold.
“I’d say that our love is pure, Snowflake. Sex isn’t the reason for it. We love each other because we’re meant for each other. Nothing is going to change that . . . not for me anyway.” Brian takes my face and kisses me so deeply at that moment that I completely swoon. When my strength returns, I take Brian in my arms and give that kiss back with all of my emotional strength.
Coming up for air, Brian lets out a small gasp and then a sigh of complete contentment and satisfaction.
“See . . . I would never get a kiss like that from any fuck buddy I’ve ever known.” Brian says this dreamily but somehow the bluntness of the statement strikes me as funny.
“Hehehehe! Not even Jimmy?” I prod Brian a bit.
“Jimmy is a marvelous kisser, but he can’t ever kiss me as my Soulmate can nor can he make me scream his name as my Soulmate can!” Brian turns a bit red with the cutest blush in his muscular cheeks.
“You . . . totally need to bottom with me more, Mr. I-Don’t-Bottom-Very-Good-Brian. I remember our first night together. You totally got into it.” Brian smirks and it causes me to giggle bashfully.
“You like how I ‘give it up’ to you, my handsome Man-Beast?” I lightly tickle Brian’s tummy as I say this which makes him jerk away from me and giggle like a little boy.
“Hehehe! STOP that! You know how fucking ticklish I am!” Brian takes my hand by the wrist lightly to make me stop.
“I DO know! That one little secret I am keeping. No one else may tickle you. Only me!” I take Brian in my arms and lay him down on the couch. We both have become aroused again.
This time, we assume our ‘normal’ positions, and by the time I’m done with him . . . Brian remembers why he prefers being my bottom!
He lays on the couch panting in a sweat and making little whimpering moans while he comes down from his explosion while our fever spreads between the two of us like hot molten lava!
The next evening, we prepare to attend a ‘Loft Party’. Brian explains that a Loft Party is a party held in a loft. I would dearly love to smack him on the side of his head, but instead, I must give him a long-suffering look that causes him to laugh at me.
“Hehehe. Ok, ok. So there’s a loft above QBar that my friend Jayson rents and then sublets from time to time. He may be a jerk and a freak, by Jayson knows how to put on a good party.” Brian instructs me. I did not get much of an opportunity to meet Jayson at The Café back when I first came to San Francisco with Brian and I have not been back there since. So, this Jayson Jason person remains a mystery to me. I know that he and Brian have some kind of history, but I promised myself I would not look too deeply into that.
“I called Jayson up and he’s all up for a ‘clothing optional’ party up there. He only insists that you and I be there and that we only wear smiles.” Brian informs me with a straight face.
“Ok. So we are to go to a nudist party above the dance club QBar. What day and who, besides you, myself, and this Jayson character is supposed to attend?” I would like details. As open as I am with my body, I still would like to know for whom I will be showing it off.
“Well, we need to get Kris up there and, per Jayson-Intel Incorporated, that means that Vic will be there too,” Brian says this and I feel a strange pang of jealousy upon being reminded of Kris and Vic’s relationship. I had conveniently forgotten about that. I really must get better control over this jealousy virus I seem to have picked up. Why on earth should I feel jealous about Kris and Vic finding each other like Brian and I have found each other? Worse, in that light, what right have I to come between those two just to satisfy my wanton desires? What is wrong with me?
I suddenly feel far less secure about what we plan to do than before.
“Oh, no. We cannot do this. This is wrong. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! I could never stand in the way of a relationship like that. Victorio in particular was nothing but brotherly and supportive to Jimmy when Sabrina was in hospital. No. I cannot betray such a man or any man for that matter.” I stand and wave my hands in front of me in finality while I go to the kitchen to pour a belt of vodka. My nerves are raw already about all of this.
“Who’s standing in who’s way? Hey, this is just a party, Snowplow. Nothing happens unless it’s gonna happen anyway. If it doesn’t feel right then you just . . . don’t!” Brian shrugs.
It all seems so easy for him to slip through this world of shady grays. It is strange. I am usually the one who is solid grays on moral matters like this. Sex is sex and nothing more. That is the way it always was in Finland with me. Perhaps that is the problem.
As I have come to realise from before, Brian has changed my expectations fundamentally. That said, I know he is right that I need to confront this issue with Kris head-on. I need to see if, with Victorio there, would I still have the same feelings for Kris as I did in my dream or at the club?
“Very well, my Buttblossom. Let us go, then. Let us see what is ‘gonna happen’,” I consent in a rather disheartened manner. I turn my back to Brian and look out the window again. It is eventide and the street below is darkening. Traffic zips by because it is time to go home. I wonder if it is I who should go home. I should go home before it is too late and my heart breaks to the point where I cannot put it back together again.
“Hey . . .” I feel his hands grip the backs of my arms gently and I turn. He gets a worried look in his beautiful and usually confident American gaze. Those angular blue eyes widen and it somehow makes him look so much younger.
“We don’t have to go at all if you don’t want to. We can just forget all of this and go get a pizza. Papa Johns, your favourite!” The comment cannot help but bring a smile to my face. How is it even when I am so down and confused, Brian can make me smile?
I hug him close for a long moment and then release him and look deep into his questioning eyes.
“No. We should go. This is a challenge just like so many others I have confronted and conquered in my life. Sisu tells me to go forward and persevere. This thing challenges me and it challenges us and our being together is the most important thing to me in all the world. I want nothing to stand between us. Let us go do this honestly and test this. The truth will be whatever it must be, but I do not think it will make any difference between us in the end.” I say, reciting dutifully Brian’s lessons from the night before.
“Wow! Heavy! Like I said, Snowbunny: don’t read too much into this shit. It is what it is and what it is ain’t that big a deal. We got each other no matter what. That won’t change on my part and from the sounds of things that’s the way you feel too. So . . . let’s get the fuck out and party!!” Brian’s goofy grin makes me laugh. He seems excited to do this with me.
“Who is Sissy? Your sister?” Brian asks as we head out the door.
“Not ‘Sissy’! Sisu! It roughly means ‘perseverance’ for Fins. I swear between you and Jimmy I will never get any American to take that word seriously!” I grouse.
“‘Sisu’, huh. Well, we’re gonna need a lot of ‘Sisu’ tonight then because we’re gonna be fuckin’ overloaded with sissies in a minute . . . they’ve come for us.” Brian rolls his eyes.
Indeed, things have accelerated much more quickly than I had originally thought they would. I thought I would at least have the few minutes to think things over as we walked the distance from Brian’s condo to QBar. But, instead, they’ve come to pick us up in a big black van with lights on the inside. A ‘Party Bus’ I think they call them. We go outside to meet them.
“Hey, sailors! Cum on in and we’ll love you loooooong time!” Jayson Jason makes an absurdly lewd gesture with his hand on his crotch.
He is looking particularly wild this evening. His hair is covered by a multicoloured long-haired wig of soft flowing curls. His makeup is so thick that I can hardly recognise him and this includes an amazing mask of eye makeup. I must say his eye makeup is a work of art complete with any number of shades of blue, purple, pink, glitter, black, and contrasting white. His false eyelashes look like wings taken from a large tropical moth! It must have taken him hours to do that.
He is also wearing a skin-tight red latex leotard with zippers in some provocative places (partially unzipped). The leotard somehow has red stilettos attached to the legs so that the bottom part of the outfit’s legs looks like long knee-length high-heeled boots. It seems to me that he is auditioning for Cirque d’Soliel. If it was not for the fact that Brian knows him so well I’d have half a mind to run away screaming! He is a positive fright!
“Hey, guys! Come on in! The water’s fine!” Says one of the two heads that have popped out from behind Jayson’s tour de force. The one speaking is Richie Camarada flanked, inevitably, by his pink shadow, Joey. Richie has obviously been influenced by Jayson’s madness because his hair has gone from black to dark purple since last I saw him. His eye makeup is deeply lined almost like King Tut’s. Joey looks himself except he is wearing a black one-piece that looks very stylish. He is quite fetching this evening, actually. Something about the ensemble sets off his gorgeous blue eyes and cotton candy pink hair perfectly.
“What did you three baboons do now? I hope my Unc isn’t payin’ for this shit!” Brian waves his hand at the black van in a flourish of distaste.
“Bitch. First off, fuck you too. Secondly, fuck you hard. Thirdly, *I* paid for this ‘shit’. So, get your boyfriend’s lily-white ass up here so that we can have our way with him!” Jayson leers at me while cocking his hip dramatically.
“Ok, but I hope you took a pipe-cleaner to yourself. I do NOT want my boyfriend catching any of your crotch-rot, JJ.” Brian says staring daggers at Jayson who rolls his eyes and gently pushes Brian inside the van. As Brian passes behind Jayson kicks his butt with the heel of his boot. Hehehehe!
Very ‘gentlemanly ladylike’ Jayson offers me his hand to help me up. He stops me at the top of the step and grabs me with his eye contact allowing his feline green eyes to burrow into the back of my skull.
“Meooow. Kitty likes her milk!” He then squeezes my behind as he pulls me the rest of the way in. He has the most disturbingly funny rape-face as he does this.
Inside the whole gang waits under splinters of disco lights and laser beams. The inside of the van seems bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, impossibly.
I notice Brian has already been consumed by the arms and legs of his two young abductors, Richie and Joey. Though they tangle him up in a ‘puppy pile’ I do not have time to concern myself about this overly much.
This is because I am immediately rushed by Jimmy who has magically come in from Las Vegas somehow. He is wearing some kind of skin-tight one-piece similar to Joey’s, although it is royal blue rather than black. It looks velour, actually, and it zips like a jogging suit, but it is much too stylish to be a jogging suit. The shoulders are padded like a blazer jacket’s.
“SNUFFY!!! COME ON! COMMERE!! SEE WHO I GOT!!” ‘Snuffy’? I am rather yanked by my arms over into the ‘puppy pile’ and I find myself spliced between Jimmy and the lovely Mason. Mason’s hypnotic hazel-blue-green eyes rivet me in place for a second mostly because they seem to be two inches from my own.
“Hello, Mr. Snowflake, Sir,” Mason says with such bashful reverence. It is perhaps the cutest thing I have seen today besides Brian’s bottom in the shower this morning. Mason daintily shakes my hand. His hand is unbelievably soft. He is obviously not a fan of rough workouts.
“Hello, Mason. A pleasure to see you here in San Francisco.” I respond not knowing how else to respond.
“Wow . . . your eyes are really pretty, Mr. Snowflake. They are silver! Wow!” Mason’s eyes widen almost as if this is his first time seeing my eyes. It is such a sweetly innocent thing to say. My goodness, I hope this works out with him and Jimmy! Mason’s sweetness is such a delicious match for Jimmy’s.
“I should say the same, Mason. You have very pretty eyes as well.” Which is the truth. Rare is it that I find eyes that can change colour on a seeming whim. At once Mason’s eyes go from hazel to green to blue to gold and then to some indefinable ocean blue-green just at the slight turn of his head or hooding of his long dark lashes.
Mason looks away and blushes. He is such a shy thing.
“Oh, I named him Prince Charming because that’s who he is. He’s my Prince Charming!” Jimmy eagerly takes Mason’s hand which causes Mason to look up and catch Jimmy’s eyes and suddenly they are both gone, lost in the pink haze of young love. I suddenly feel very much in the way sitting between the two.
“I guess that makes you Cinderfella?” Brian jabs Jimmy with gentle sarcasm. This is where I see a side of Mason appear that leaves me totally breathless for a minute. It is a gentle humour that holds no guile or hidden pain.
“Yeah . . . glass slippers and all. All we need now are . . . the little mice to make the sparkly coat and tails for the ball.” The corner of Mason’s lip curls up in an adorable half-smile that nearly makes me want to kiss him myself! My dear God what a fox! Prince Charming indeed!
“Well, I am in the way. If you two are to have the Mulberry Jam and Toast together then I should move.” I go to stand up but both boys quickly grab my arms to prevent me from doing so.
“Nooooo!” Jimmy whines.
“Oh please stay, Mr. Snowflake. We’re sorry. We get goofy sometimes.” Mason says softly and rubs my bicep a bit in instinctive tenderness but then gets a look of awe at the strength he feels there.
Then, there is a strobe flash and I suddenly see red and white sparks in my eyes. I start to blink rapidly, desperately trying to clear my vision to no avail!
“Oh, this bitch is going up on Instagram STAT. You guys are so fuckingly disgustingly cute I should sell tickets like they do at the zoo during Baby Panda Squirt Out Day.” Jayson’s nasally strident voice cuts through my blindness. A photograph: he must have taken one.
“For fuck sake, JJ! Warn a guy next time! I’m fucking blind now! Jesus Tap-dancing Christ!” Brian leans forward and rubs his eyes as do the Circuit Boys. Everyone seems to have been affected by Jayson’s monstrous SLR Digital Canon camera’s strobe flash.
“Hey, I was just gonna blindfold you and tie you to a bed anyway, Bri Bri. So we get a head start! What the fuck, ya know?” JJ retorts snidely.
After a few minutes the bright holes in my vision clear completely. My eyes being the most sensitive take the longest to recover. When my vision clears I’m faced with two young expectant faces. Jimmy’s in particular looks concerned.
“Can ya see yet?” Jimmy asks me with an edge to his voice.
“Yes, yes, Jimmy. Of course. It just took a bit. My eyes are a little more sensitive than yours are, I think.” I reassure him.
“I oughta smash that camera into the friggin’ wall, JJ, you Dickwad! You know better’n to pop that fucker in here? It’s dazzly enough as it is!” Richie snarls potently at Jayson who is too busy working his smartphone to really pay attention.
“Uh-huh. Anyways, you are all Instagram Superstars now so you all can lick me later when we get to the Loft. Until then, have a cocktail. We have another pickup to make.” Jayson says distractedly as he continues to fiddle with that phone.
“Jezzus! He’s slower with that phone than my grandmother! Yeah, drinks are good. Where’s the vodka and cranberry juice?” Richie gets up and finds a drawer shelf that has holders in it for bottles and such.
“Oh, no cranberry juice in mine, please. I hate to ruin good vodka.” I state my preference. You see, mixers are for disguising cheap vodka that is usually Russian in origin. Russians can even ruin vodka. What a pitiful excuse for a people!
“I doubt sincerely that’s ‘good’ vodka, Snowplow. This is Jayson we’re talking about here. He wouldn’t know good vodka from skunk piss.” Brian drawls cuttingly.
“I suppose that would mean you’d know yourself having drunk your fair share of skunk piss back in Horsefucker, Texas?” Jayson bleeds the funniest nastiness from every pore. He is one you must hate and love all at once. He is, indeed, growing on me!
“I reckon.” Brian pours on the ‘cowboy’ accent thick as sheep’s milk. I start to titter uncontrollably despite myself. My one obvious tell of my gayness has always been my ‘Little Girl’s’ laugh.
Mason rather surprises me by releasing a bubbly giggle of his own. His ‘Little Boy’ giggle to my ‘Little Girl’ giggle is so terribly sweet.
“Hehehe! You have to cutest laugh, Mr. Snowflake. I would never have expected something like that from such a stud!” Mason catches himself letting his sexual admiration for me slip. He closes both hands over his mouth with this look of delightfully embarrassed shock. His lovely eyebrows arch in at least three different places each.
Jimmy gives his own goofy chirpy laugh and pounces Mason taking his hands away from his mouth and surprises him with a quick and playful smooch.
“You’re right! Snuffy is a studmuffin’ from way back.” Jimmy has no thoughts of jealousy or anger. He merely loves the fact that Mason appreciates his bizarre Finnish friend as much as he does.
“Like, what the fuck is a ‘Snuffy’, Jimmy? Where the hell did you come up with that one?” Brian targets Jimmy now that Jayson is no longer as much fun to spar with lost in his phone as he is.
“Oh, my gawd! That’s just a perfect name for him! Jimmy, you are a freaking genius! It’s SO cute!” Joey chimes in.
I roll my eyes. If I were to ever have a shred of dignity left in this world, I’m sure that Jimmy would manage to take that too with his silliness. I am fortunate in that I have not much if any left after my long association with him and then Brian. But of course, ‘Snowflake’ itself was humbling and I have had that since the beginning. I seem to lend myself to such names.
“Yeah! Snow Muffin Baby! Snuffy!” Jimmy smiles brightly, delighted with himself.
“I may throw up.” Jayson finally looks up to skewer Jimmy with his penitential stare. It is made more severe with his frightening eye makeup. In this club lighting, he looks like a demon or evil clown.
“You get to clean it up if you do, JJ,” Richie says long sufferingly as he hands me my vodka sans juice.
“Salut, Snuffy. It’s Gray Goose. It’s the best in there. No Finlandia though, sorry to say.” Richie lets the new name slip off his tongue with perfect nonchalance as if it has always been my name. He remembers my preferences in vodka too which impresses me since we barely got to know each other the last time I was in San Francisco.
“Kippis. Thank you, Richie. At least it is not that Russian poison.” I actually enjoy Gray Goose. Strange that it is of French origin.
Before long our van slows and Jayson rouses himself to open the door and calls in the other members of our party. This part I am rather dreading. I know who it is who will be coming through that door next and it looks as if I am to face him alone as my two ‘guardians’ have moved over to ‘play’ with Brian now. This leaves ample room for . . . Him to sit with me! This shall be awkward or worse, but not nearly as awkward as it should be.
My worst fears are realised as He is the first to come through the door. His fjord blue eyes instantly find mine and it is as if we resume the communion of souls we started at The Café three months before. His smile brightens the room and before I can blink twice Kris Sørensen is beside me shaking my hand in greeting.
“Hallo! For en overraskelse! Snowflake! Hvor godt det er å se deg igjen!” Kris blurts excitedly. It is very quickly done in the Norsk, but I understand him perfectly. He greets me in surprise and tells me it is good to see me.
“Kiitos, Kris. It is very good to see you too, my friend.” I shake his hand back and try not to sweat into it too much.
“Hey, Vic! Get your guinea ass over here and let me pat it.” Brian summons Vic Camarada in from the door. Perhaps he does this to deflect any jealous feeling Vic may have at Kris’ obvious excitement in seeing me again. It feels so wrong, somehow, for Brian to be helping me cheat on him and Kris to cheat on Vic at the same time. Why am I even doing this?
Vic grabs his crotch and says, “Pat this, Faggot!” It is said with humour though I don’t particularly like when Vic uses that word.
“Okay,” Brian answers back easily and with a wolfish leer. It causes me to chuckle because it’s such a perfect retort.
Vic comes over and shakes Brian’s hand instead and also the four young ones. He rather looks at Mason funny as it is clear that he and Jimmy are an item.
“Where’s Mattie, Jimjim?” Vic asks rather tactlessly which is strange for him. Perhaps it is a barb being cast at Jimmy for separating himself from Vic so suddenly.
“Oh, he’s an asshole, that’s all,” Jimmy says this calmly as the simple truth that it is. There is no anger or anything behind the statement.
Mason, who obviously knows the whole story as Jimmy can keep no secrets, covers his mouth and giggles, his hazel eyes sparkling as he laughs demurely at Jimmy. Jimmy gives Mason a big grin.
“Well, glad you finally figured that one out, Kid. Mattie Hunter is known for being a complete douchebag when he wants to be. Who’s your friend?” Vic cannot seem to help smiling in Mason’s direction. The boy seems to have that effect on everyone.
“This is Mason! That’s Vic, Mason! He is the nice Italian guy I was talking about!” Jimmy points at Vic who blushes a bit and looks down at his shoes, much to my surprise. Vic seems to be as shy in his way as Mason is in his, just in a more mature way.
“It’s good to meet you, Vic. From all that Jimmy tells me you are just about the coolest guy in San Francisco! You know a lot about restaurants from what I understand.” Mason’s mid-timbered young voice buzzes in the room quietly and yet fills it and gets under the bumping EDM. It has a liquidness and a preciseness to it that makes his version of American English a lovely thing to hear. I wonder where he went to school?
Enchanted, Vic squeezes himself between Richie and Mason since Richie had been sitting next to Mason. Rather, Vic sits ON Richie causing the younger Camarada to move over almost sitting on Brian’s lap.
“Man! What the actual FUCK, Cuz?” Richie growls.
“Shaddap, you, and get me a whiskey,” Vic commands over his shoulder with familiar rudeness.
“Bitch! I should pee in it!” Richie says as he stomps over to the bar, but does as he is told efficiently and without urination.
“Richie is your cousin?” Mason asks, glittering with surprise. Jimmy nods vigorously, but Vic answers anyway.
“Yeah, unfortunately. He’s my uncle’s kid over in Vegas. He never did seem to learn any manners or respect for his elders.” Vic looks sadly at Richie who totally ignores his big cousin.
“Oh! He is from Las Vegas? I was just in Las Vegas! I was visiting from Utah with my brother. In reality, we both are going to UNLV so we actually live there now!” Mason says as he looks with interest upon the Camaradas.
“Cool! I lived there for years with my Uncle and Aunt but came to San Francisco to do business. Better clientele. Richie is more of a little brother to me than a cousin.” Vic reaches and embraces Richie around the hips as his little cousin hands him a large helping of whiskey. It is far more than two shots worth too. With surprising tenderness, Richie bends down and kisses his older cousin on the top of his head. Vic rubs his cousin’s leg but not in a sexy way. It is a show of familial affection that fascinates me as I had no idea they were that close!
“Y’all come from Ogden, Utah. Ain’t that right Mason?” Jimmy turns the focus back on his lover. Mason turns, smiles, and nods affirmatively to Jimmy. Ogden? It is no wonder Mason is so shy! That place is not a haven for Gay boys from what I have been given to understand. I wonder if Mason and Dixon were getting away from that place to find a safe haven somewhere? Las Vegas would have been closest for them to run away to.
Alas, too many families are quick to cut their sons off once their truth comes out. That, unfortunately, is somewhat the way it is for Brian and me. Both of our families are not close with us because of our orientation. My family is fairly traditional. They do not have the more modern sensibilities that can be found south of Lapland. For Brian, his father is a devotee of Texan machismo. Brian being a ‘queer’ seems to reflect badly on his father. Mr. Chesney seems to feel that he has failed as a father by having an ‘effeminate’ son. Brian is HARDLY ‘effeminate’!
“Ogden? Are you guys Mormon?” Vic asks rather bluntly.
“Yeah. Mom, Dad, and my sisters. But my big brother and me, we didn’t fit in so we left for a while. Salt Lake City first, which was pretty nice. Ogden and Salt Lake City are really pretty Gay friendly these days, but Dixon had made friends in Las Vegas when he started taking classes at UNLV. I applied and followed him after I graduated from High School last year! The University accepted me right away!” Mason explains. I feel corrected! I thought by all that Brian had said that Utah was a very closed place.
“Then . . . I met you.” Mason says turning to look with love in Jimmy’s eyes. Jimmy’s goofy smile wanes and the intensity of the longing in his gaze just locks the moment.
“Yeah. I get it. I’m glad for you two. I like this guy, Jimmy. Don’t fuck this up!” Vic says pointing at Jimmy for emphasis. A sad smile plays across his lips. He looks up to see Kris, but there is little comfort there either. Though I watch Vic, I know that Kris watches me and not Vic. Vic notices this and I see the smile fade entirely from his handsome face.
Again, I get that sinking feeling in my stomach. I feel the anxiety that this is wrong and that this should not be happening. But, then I am ‘saved’ by the clarion call of Jayson’s strident voice.
“Ok, boys and boys. Glad you have all managed to get acquainted and shit. Drink up your liquor coz the bus has arrived at our port of call.” Jayson makes an excellent Master of Ceremonies for this twisted little venture.
We all file out slowly into what seems to be a buzzing little crowd of Jimmy-like creatures or perhaps Richie and Joey-like creatures is a more appropriate description. QBar I immediately peg as being what Brian calls a ‘Twink Bar’ due to its largely young crowd. Never having come to QBar before, even when Brian and I were living and working for several weeks in San Francisco before our trip, I do not know what to expect.
The Café seemed to have a more mixed crowd of various Gay species. QBar is definitely the ‘kiddie pool’. Despite this, I could not help but be charmed by the little crowd that had gathered in front of the door to the ‘Party Bus’. Apparently arriving this way usually means someone important is arriving. Though I consider everyone important, I do not consider any of us celebrities by any means. I may be a minor one in Finland, but this is not Finland.
“Oh. It’s just JJ being a queen again. I’ll never understand why he wastes good money on these ‘Rape Machines’. But . . . Ok. Hello! Whozzat?” I catch some of the commentary as our exiting the vehicle seems to be a point of entertainment for these children.
“Yeah . . . and whozzat? Oh lord, that’s The Bitch and Joey Pink. But, OMG! Who are the two brunettes? Oh, GURL, I just got the biggest boner!” I hear someone else say. Jimmy and Mason are who I presume they mean.
“I get the first dance with blondie. I know him. That’s Brian Chesney! It’s gonna be a Loft Party for sure. I have to say this is the most orgasmic crowd he’s brought in a while. That porcelain doll he has must be one of those new sex toys they make in Japan! I totally need an invite so I can play with his knob!” I become slightly offended by that and skewer the commentator with my stare.
“Heh. Just kidding. No mads?” The boy says. He is a strawberry redhead with freckles. I do not think he will be allowed in. He looks all of 13 years of age. If he is older than that then he may need hormone treatments and a proper meal or two.
We all move as a troop to the end of the short line to pass security when JJ waves us away from the line. Apparently, we are doing something wrong with the look of long-suffering irritation in his expression. Then again, that does seem to be JJ’s ‘resting face’.
“Um, Fucktards. This way, please. I spent money for this shit so you ding dongs need to follow my lead. This is your captain speaking.” JJ intones nasally with a flourish of his hands.
“Why do I feel like we’ll need to take ‘crash positions’ pretty soon?” Brian whispers in my ear. Funny as the comment is there is a part of me that actually does take it as a warning. This, of course, is another sign that my instincts are not going along with this idea at all.
We enter through a roped-off area for ‘VIPs’. A few of the folks in line grumble about why *we* should get any special treatment, but most know JJ and stand quiet. They do not want to risk the wrath of the vengeful redhead. Hehehehe!
Inside, the little QBar is already hopping. It is smaller than I thought it would be. I wonder if they might have more room in the back and there does seem to be a space that is used for dancing later in the evening, but it is not active at the moment. The darkness back there gives me a cold forlorn feeling.
“What’s up, Snowplow? You don’t look happy. This is supposed to be fun! I didn’t have the opportunity to show you QBar before. It’s my favourite! Way better than The Café!” Brian says to me enthusiastically. I smile for him, or try to at the very least, though I’m not feeling it. The empty dance floor haunts me because it feels like that is where I am headed and very soon: a dark, lonely, and cold place.
It is like autumn was for me when I was back home. Having tasted summer I had to prepare myself for winter. Warmth and light would be all but a memory. The long dark cold would be my reality for a long time.
I should run from this place. I should go before the end comes, but I know that the end is already here. Kris’s body is so close. I can taste the sex of him just standing here in this bar so close to him. He does not leave my side. He can taste it too. This night he will be lucky. This night he will conquer me. This night I will no longer belong exclusively to Brian.
I will be Kris’ Snowflake also. Oh my God! What is happening?
I know as well as I breathe that when we are done that the moment’s pleasure will turn to unspeakable pain. For all of Brian’s ‘progressive’ ideas, the instinct that we must be loyal to only one another is a strong one. It is the same for him though he denies it. I can feel the tension in him. I can feel his draw toward Jimmy and Mason. He wants to taste them. He craves their peach skin and the sweet youth of their lips.
Is this a test of our love? What will happen if we fail it? Perhaps we will learn a truth. We will learn that ‘True Love’ is a lie, just like I always thought it was. We will learn that what we had was very special, but temporary.
I am offered a drink by Kris who already knows my favourite weaknesses. The Finlandia vodka is mixed with a touch of limoncello. How he knew this was my favourite of all drinks I cannot fathom, but here, in my hand, is proof that Kris understands me nearly as well as Brian does.
I sip it at first and then shoot it down. The saccharine warmth sizzles down my throat and I feel the touch of calm dizziness. My worries start to blunt off. Two more such shots and all I can think of is my hands-on Kris’ naked body . . . fucking him sore until dawn.
Brian and the kids are soon likewise intoxicated, even little Mason, and JJ serves as our only ‘sober’ chaperone. What madness. Vic is with Kris and, for some reason, I feel that I’d love to join my flesh to him as well. Vic looks at me with a hunger I’ve not seen in him before and I know that I shall have two dancing partners tonight and not just one.
We ascend into the Loft. What happens there is the stuff of morphine fever dreams. Despair and unbridled pleasure mix with the stunning anesthetic of poppers.
Before I barely pass through the door, Kris and Vic begin to undress me. They crave a look at my white body. They want to feel it and to take it. Kris faces me and holds me fast in his gaze . . . because it is the eyes that always get you first. Vic supports me from behind and I can feel his sex against my behind through his fine Italian wool woven trousers with his Roman sword waiting to be unsheathed.
Between the two I am laid bare with hands tucked into my pants and up my shirt. The groping strength in both men’s hands sends me shivers as my clothes give way and I am left open and naked to them both.
Kris kneels in front of me and admires the pink tinge to my sex. He breaths on it which makes it twitch in anticipation. It takes a great deal of self-control on my part not to take hold of his head and ram myself down his throat. What an awful, violent urge! It is an urge I could never have with Brian. I love him too much to even think of harming him so. I am not so forgiving of Kris, I guess.
Behind me, I hear rustling and the clink of a high-end belt. I hear the thump of expensive shoes hitting the floor and then I feel smooth well cared for hands gently grip me around my abdomen and then slide up slowly to grip my pectorals. I find I gasp and lean my head back as at the same time Kris engulfs me with his maddeningly warm and wet mouth.
I feel Vic’s incredible strength and for the first time, I feel the tender touch of his tan skin to my paleness. Ever so gently he presses what must be his sizable sex into the cleft of my bottom and he kisses the lat on my left shoulder. I feel his hot breath escape in a shuddering excited sigh as I feel him slide himself up and down the sensitive trench of my behind.
“Unngh!” An uncontrolled groan escapes my lips as Kris begins his tongue work. I feel my legs weaken and Kris anticipates this by hold the backs of my knees to steady them. He is a master with his mouth!
I hear a similar sigh escape another throat and I look over to see Mason’s young pale body, nearly as pale as mine, flushing pink as his situation mirrors my own.
Brian holds him in a tender embrace, pushing his naked sex against the gentle young man as Vic does to me. Jimmy works Mason from the front in his typically voracious way. Jimmy’s excitement and Mason’s comparative lack of leg muscles to my own cause him to lose his strength and he begins to crumple. But, Brian has him and Jimmy releases him. Mason is raging and very close to finishing.
Brian lifts him and brings him into bed where Mason is allowed to sit against Brian’s naked lap. Jimmy climbs up into bed with them and proceeds to finish his lover off.
“Uweeen! Jim-myy. I’m gonna . . .” Brian massages Mason’s shoulders as Jimmy brings him to the cutest little shivering, squeaking climax I’ve ever seen in a male of our species. His slim little back arches off the bed and his body jerks in spasms much to Jimmy’s humming delight.
Seeing this nearly sends me over the edge, but Kris is on to that and lets me go before I do cum. I’m quite edged and Vic is likewise as his thrusting has become more intense and his caresses all over my body become more impassioned.
Kris stands and kisses me hard on the lips. I return the kiss with equal passion and Vic releases me and goes for the little bag of goodies left on the dresser table: lubricant, condoms, and the poppers.
I help Kris off with his clothes and stand amazed at the great breadth of his chest and the strength in his arms. He keeps his slight tan from San Diego, though it has begun to fade thanks to his Norwegian blood. He does not shave so he is dusted with beautiful golden blonde hairs all over his body. I had forgotten what silky body hair felt like against me. I forgot how I’d missed it.
Kris takes hold of each cheek of my bottom and pulls me into him as he kneads me. I feel his hardness press in between my thighs and Kris moans into our kiss . . . just like in that damning dream last evening.
I then feel a lubricated finger find my hole as Kris helps by spreading me apart.
“Is this ok, Angelface?” Vic’s whisper is a mix of a voice and a moan. His lips brush against my ear and I feel his hot breath move my platinum hair.
“Yes, though . . . go a little easy, Ja? I am more Top than Bottom.” I turn to tell Vic, breathlessly. My heart beats hard and fast in my chest as I feel my sexual tension climb higher and higher.
Vic takes the opportunity to crane his neck around and kiss my lips as I turned my head to tell him this. Vic’s dark blue eyes and auburn hair look so dazzling next to his flushed skin. I can see why Kris wanted him too.
“You’ll get to be both tonight, my beautiful friend.” Kris gently turns my head to look into his ocean ice blue eyes. Kris releases me and gracefully turns and seats himself on our bed. He lays back on the pillow and spreads his legs invitingly. His large sex reaches for the belly button of his rock-hard abs.
It is then that I find myself, in my rising passions, looking over to Brian who is now engulfed in the young passions of two of the most beautiful boys ever to grace the earth. They have gotten a jump start on the gun, as it were. Brian seems to be the sandwich meat and the two boys are the bread.
Brian is on his hands and knees and Jimmy has already penetrated him from behind. Mason works, with Brian’s patient guidance, my beloved’s organ from underneath. I see that Brian has readied Mason and himself to go into the 69 position as Mason has become aroused again even after that powerful orgasm. They are already in flagrante delicto and it is then that my heart finally breaks.
💔 💔 💔
Something dies inside me and the tears come! No! We are done. We are no longer just for each other. We have become lovers of others. Brian is with somebody else! Someone else is giving his body the pleasure only I should be able to give!
“NO!” I cry! Both Vic and Kris stop their rutting with me. They look at me like I’ve just gone mad! Perhaps I have. This was all supposed to help. How could it not? Brian has always been so much wiser about these things than I.
But wisdom is a fete of the mind, not of the heart. The heart has no wisdom. It only knows what it knows and mine . . .
. . . mine now knows that nothing lasts forever. My dream of Kris was the infidelity of my soul. Brian could no longer be enough so I had to have Kris too. I do not deserve either.
I push them away. They clutch at me and Vic and Kris merely become voracious hands without names. I push them away with more power and they fall away from me! No more! This is death to me!
I finally wake up from my months-long waking fever dream!
Brian Chesney! What have you done to me? What spell did you put me under? How dare you melt me and then force me to freeze again! The cold now hurts! I had become comfortably numb to it! Now, the refreezing is worse than death!
“Brian . . . this cannot be,” I say to my beloved in agony and then flee the fevered Loft dressing as I go.
“Hey? HEY, WHAT THE FUCK? Snowflake? SNOWFLAKE COME BACK! SNOWFLAKE!” He calls to me in rising desperation, but I cannot be here anymore. I need to get away.
I feel the ice talons tighten in my chest as I rush out of QBar. I shiver and strain to hold back hot tears. I will never be able to forget Brian’s calling my name in such anguish! He knows this has done something irreparable.
It is not fair to him. It was never his fault. Never! It is all my fault. I do not deserve love. I never have.
That I should have died in that blizzard years ago! Then Brian would never have met me so that I could finally crush his heart so and kill mine in turn.
“Brian . . . *I love you*! Forgive me?” I whisper to the windows of the Loft. They are words that I can never take back because they are sacred. But sacred or no, this love I can no longer have.
The fever dream of my love for Brian is at its end. I return now to the cold dark after this all too short a summer. It is where I belong. Frozen. Dead inside. Falling over and over in my never-ending winter . . .
. . . forever.