Monday, September 30, 2002

How I Lost Trust Part II (or "The Wacky and Delightful Olsen Twins Make Me Want To Suck Dick")



Another venture. Nothing gained?


When I was 16 I was many things. Foremost was stupid. I lived outside myself - thinking by hovering somewhere beyond the realm of mediocrity, ornamental fruit trees and small single-family ranch homes in Mesa, Arizona - that I would evolve into Jack Kerouac, JD Salinger, Kurt Vonnegut - in short - brilliant and tortured by my own exceptional mind. I craved experiences - I romanced danger. I looked for trouble.


This is a story, I don't brag to my friends.


I met him at a party. He was strong, athletic, Hispanic boy of 17 - a compact muscular frame of 180 lbs and Five Foot Ten. He was a 2nd string QB on our high school team. He had grown a mustache because he could, he dropped out because he didn't know better and he was in many ways everything other boys envied: tough, intimidating and reckless. How odd it seems all these years later I can't even guess at his name. I stood waiting, leaning against an unopening bathroom door for what seemed like an eternity, I had never met him or even known of him, as he stood behind me - watching me intently. I grew weary of the wait and my bladder begged for release as I hurried out back and began to pee under a stair well of the back-side-of-the-tracks apartment complex. I became aware of someone standing behind me - I stiffened - they came closer and flanked my side. He stood next to me and pulled out his thick, uncut cock. My heart raced and my palms sweated - he slowly pulled his head up - his smile catching in a sliver of light coming from a neighboring window.

"Feels good doesn't it?", he questioned.

"Pissing ??" , I asked, feeling embarrassed and akward.

"Yeah, pissing, holding your dick in the air", he laughed. I quickly realized he was several beers past fine.

As I began to close up shop, he quickly reached over and grabbed my dick - embarrassingly a bit of pee releasing in his hand. My body jerked - forcing his hand to drop away. He spoke:

"Hey, hey - don't sweat it - I like dick too"

"Too ??", I stammered - too defensively, infused by terror and teenage horniness.

"Yeah - Melissa told me you suck dick" He continued, "So how gay are you?"

I can't remember my words at that point - I started phrases and dropped off - I neither denied or comfirmed. My mind was reeling. Was I being set up ? Was this being watched ? Fuck - no way this guy is gay ! Is he gonna beat the crap out of me ?

He started buttoning up his pants and started to walk away. I felt lost, desperate - standing there in the darkness, the unexpected, my dick still hanging out of my trousers - somehow feeling that it was a moment I had hoped for - but felt so uncomfortable now that it was here.

"Hey - wait up", I choked out. Somehow wanting to find a way to keep the moment alive.

He turned and held his index finger to his soft lips in a gesture requesting silence.

"My girlfriends inside", he whispered "I'll get your number and we can meet up tomorrow night"

My heart pumped at the rate of a speeding Ferrari. I barely slept that night - eaten alive by hope and excitement.

The next night we met at the local community college and wandered around the grounds. I gushed about my hopes for a life filled with fame and money, I spoke about how different I felt from the kids at my high school, I rambled on and on wanting desperately to make a connection to another man/boy. He lead me to the stadium, dark and ominuous at night without lights on the field and fans in the stand. He took me to a stairwell, not visible from the street and pulled me close to him. His lips and mustache brushed my neck, his arms larger and more powerful ensnared me, he pressed against me - into me - with force. He pulled my shirt aboove my head and rubbed his hands over my stomach and ass, he turned me around and ran his lips down my boyishly smooth back. He pushed against me as he undid my pants and let them slide to the concrete. I felt intoxicated, alive, sexy. His pressing and pushing strengthened, his hands slipped from my naked hips and pushed my arms over my head as he slowly pulled the crook of one arm against my neck. I felt a sharp pain as he hit my head against the wall, I felt quickly aware of how much bigger he was then me. My 140lbs at a 40lb loss to his strength - his fury. Suddenly it wasn't sexy - it was terrifying. I felt my larnyx bruising, I could hear myself gasping, tears welling in my eyes. His cock stiffened as he forced it between my legs - sloppily he jabbed left and right as he tried to force it in. I struggled, I screamed to let go of me. A second flash of pain as my head hit the wall.

"FUcKing SHUt UP, FaGgoT!!" he menancingly breathed into my ear. All traces of charm evaporated.

This time he found his target. A tearing feeling, a horrible burning pain, a moment filled with humiliation - as his rock hard cocked ripped into my flesh - opening up a place I had never let anyone go. I cried, I tried to fight - crap, CRAP - no, no, no, no, no, please GOD no...don't do this to me - please, oh, please, don't do this to me....what have I done - am I that bad, am I that unforgiveable - not like this, no, no, no, no, no, no...........

Suddenly there were white, blinding headlights. A car - other teenagers looking for a space to 'park' - flashing upon us, this horrific spectacle. He jumped off me - his cock ripping out of me more feircely then he had forced it in. He had barely pulled his pants up as he began to run, I had barely hit the ground before the people in the car began to scream:

"FAGGOTS - SICKO, FUCKING FAGGOTS!!!" as they drove away.

Devastated.
Crushed.
Ashamed.

I touched the pain, the burning heat and found I was bleeding. I started bawling, sobbing uncontrollably - shrinking away into the stairwell corner - wishing, praying, believing I was dead. Waiting for silence to offer my escape.

Later, as I crept into the quiet shoebox house, my sister was the only one still awake.

"Why are your crying?", she asked in a mixture of sibling suspicion and concern.

"Nothing, just a bad date", I numbly responded.

"Must of been - are you sure your ok ?" she asked

"Sure.", I said - not sure at all.

I went and hid in the bathroom for what must have been an hour, unable to clean the blood and shit off my underwear - I took them out to the garbage, ashamed to explain to anyone - especially my parents, what happened. I crawled into bed and cried some more - I had lost something I couldn't put my finger on...

hope,
innocence,
trust.


Finally after a session of tossing and turning, staring into space, I fell into a deep, deep sleep.

Beginning, trying, hoping to forget.