Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2005 23:35:24 -0800 (PST)
From: Sin Titulo <sintitulo2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bone Work II

Bone Work II
by
Sin titulo


	I'd tied one on.  My old army buddy was in town, and
we got together at my favorite dive, The Fox Hole.
While not exactly a gay bar, it could pass on a good
payday night.  Arnie, my buddy, had gotten so sloshed,
he couldn't function anymore.  I dragged his butt out
to my Ranger, and threw him into the bed of the
pickup.  I wasn't about to let him vomit on my bucket
seats and dashboard.  Good thing too, because vomit he
did.
	Saturday morning, I woke up with a pounding hangover,
and some asshole pounding on my door.  I remembered
vaguely that I'd left Arnie out in the bed of the
truck, too drunk to drag his ass into the apartment.
I figured it was him at my door.  Wrong.  When I
finally rolled off the couch, and made it over to the
door, I saw through the little square window that it
was fucking Greg, my boss.
	My first thought was I was supposed to be at work,
and had gotten my days mixed up.  I was still half
pissed from the hundred or so beers it felt like I'd
sucked down the night before, and wasn't up to taking
any of his shit just then. I flipped the lock on the
door, and staggered back to the couch, looking for my
levis.  I had on one tube sock, but it looked like I'd
stepped in somethng it was so dirty.  I sat down, and
tried to pull it off, but leaning over made the top of
my head fall off.  Stoned again, I sighed, leaning
back and scratching my balls.
	"Jeesus Chreist!" Greg said too loud when he finally
made it through the door.  "What happened to you?"  I
glared at him, and tried to make him shush with a
finger over my lips, but almost poked my eye out.
"You realize you have a dead man in the back of your
truck?"
This brought me around at least a little.
	"No shit," I managed, wincing at my voice.  I
scratched my nuts again, and squinted at Greg.  "What
the fuck you doing here.  Isn't it Saturday?"
	"It is.  We had an appointment remember?"  I tried to
think, but it hurt too much, and nothing came easily
to mind.
	"Can't say I do."  He looked disgusted.
	"You're a fucking mess James.  Go take a cold shower
while I check on the body in your truck."  He pulled
me up to a standing, swaying, position and shoved me
toward my toilet.  I stumbled against the door jam,
and felt like the motion of movement was going to make
me vomit.  I'd spent too much hard earned money to
waste the beer on the stool.  I grabbed both sides of
the door jam with my hands, and steadied myself.
After a long moment, the feeling passed, and I let go
and scratched my nuts again.  I had to piss bad.
	Greg had gone back out to the Ranger.  While I was
pissing like a horse, he stumbled back in with Arnie's
arm pulled over his neck.  Arnie was having serious
trouble walking, one foot dragging along next to
Greg's.  He deposited Arnie's body on the couch, and
the room reeked of vomit suddenly.  The smell brought
a quick gut reaction in me, and I leaned over the piss
filled crapper, and wasted more than I thought I could
hold.  I retched a few more times, but nothing but
yellow foam came up.  I finally was able to spit and
clear my throat, before standing up straight again.
When I did, the top of my head took off for the moon,
and I grabbed it with both hands and whimpered in
pain.
	"What a fucking mess," Greg was stomping around
unneccessarily loud in my living room.  I looked
through the door, and saw him pour a glass of
something in Arnie's face.  Arnie sputtered, and
gasped.  Rudely awakened from pleasant dreams by
Greg's insinsitivity to his condition.  Arnie, looked
like a pile of day old turds.  About like my mouth
tasted.
	I turned on the cold shower, and started to get under
the stream of water.  I glanced down and saw I was
still wearing my tube sock.  I stepped on the floppy
end with my bare foot, and lifted my knee slowly to
pull the sock off.  I kicked it behind the toilet, and
gritting my teeth, stepped into the flow of water.
	"SHIT! FUCK! HELL!  I'm freezng my nuts off in here."
 Greg looked up from Arnie, and shouted at me to pull
the curtain closed, because I was running water all
over the floor.  I tried, but nothing was working with
the curtain.  I took about all I could of the cold
shower, and stepped out onto the wet floor.  I tried
to turn the water off, but for some reason the stream
got stronger instead of shutting off.
	"Fuck it. . .I grabbed my only towel, and started to
dry my goosebumps.  It was hard, considering the water
was still spraying out of the stall across the
bathroom floor and me.
	By the time I managed to get out of the bathroom
before I drowned, Greg had Arnie sitting up.  He still
looked green around the gills, but he was breathing
regular again.  I was glad he wasn't dead after all.
He was my best bud, and I sat down on the couch next
to his stinking butt..  Greg had started a pot of
coffee in the kitchenette that my apartment boasted.
When he came back with two steaming mugs black, he had
a pained look on his face.
	"Don't you fucking ever wash a dish?"
	"Not if I can help it."  I scratched my nuts again,
and sipped the scalding coffee.   Arnie tried to bring
his mug to his lips, but only got half way there
before he tipped his mug, and poured most of the near
boiling liquid in his lap.  The next thing I knew, he
was flying around the room along with splattered
coffee, and a chipped mug.  Greg got a good splash on
his clean shirt, and invented a little dance called
being scalded.  Arnie was ripping at his pants trying
to get them off as quickly as possible.  Before he
fell on his face, he'd managed to drop them to his
knees,  I imagin those jeans were what tripped him.
He's usually pretty steady on his feet.
	I tried to help him up, but the top of my head fell
off again, and I sat back on the sofa holding onto my
skull tightly.   I heard somebody sobbing.  I thought
it was Arnie, but it might have been me.
	When I opened my eyes again, Arnie was sitting on the
floor, with his pants down around his knees, with a
piss hard on standing up tall between his legs.  Greg
was staring at Arnie's tool with what could only be
described as a lustful eye.  I had to admit, that it
had impressed me the first time I'd seen it back in
the Nam.
	He and I had gone whoring in Siagon, and had gotten
just as drunk as we were now, and had taken a room
with one double bed in it.  Before the MPs came for us
for running the whore out of her house, he and I had
somehow ended up in that bed together.  It was the
first time in my life I was called a faggot.  But
those two MPs thought better of it after one had to
have his jaw wired, and the other one couldn't see for
a week from the swelling around his eyes.
	The rest of the MPs they called in to help, finally
hauled both our naked asses to the brig.  They refused
to give us clothes for two days, so we got all the
looking we wanted to out of the way.  They'd put us
both in the same cell, because none of the other
grunts wanted to be put in the cell with the two
faggots.  If memory serves, it wasn't until the second
night, after lights out that Arnie and me got it on.
I liked the feel of his big dick in my mouth, and he
must have liked mine in his, because we both sucked
cream most of the night.
	They gave us clothes the next morning, and sent us up
before a judge magistrate.  The guard that took us
told us it was probably going to be a cut and dried
case with a dishonerable discharge.
	 "The... Army... Don't... Like... Faggots!"  He said,
marching us to our fate.  Unfortunately for him, the
judge magistrate believed our story of just letting
off steam, and we hadn't been fucking or anything like
that.  We didn't mention the sucking, and he didn't
ask.  He sent us back to our unit, and restricted us
to base for the remainder.
	"Siagon," he opined, "Wasn't ready for roughnecks
like us."
	"Arnie, why don't you go take a piss," I said.  "You
look like you need to bad."
	"I would, but I can't piss with a hard on."
	"Well, I ain't helping you out.  You smell like
vomit, and the top of my head is loose.  I wouldn't
want to lose it."
	"'Sallright."  He tried to roll to the side to get
up, but only managed to lie back on the floor.
	"I'll give him a hand," Greg said, licking his lips.
	"I knew you would."  I scratched my nuts again, and
watched as Greg hoisted Arnie up by his arm pits.  He
and my best friend hobbled into the toilet, and I
heard them muttering about how hard it was to piss
hard.  After a minute of this conversation, I heard
sounds of cock sucking going on.  I tried to turn to
look, but my body wasn't working right yet.  I relaxed
and listened, and soon enough, heard Greg gag and
start swallowing.  Arnie was moaning a little,  and I
could see him swaying in the reflection in the glass
in the front window, his butt cheeks flexing as he
tried to fuck Greg's mouth.  After he came, they
remained in position for a minute, then I heard Arnie
sigh with relief and Greg started swallowing even
faster than before.
	All of a sudden, Greg shouted some gurgled word I
couldn't understand, and In the reflection, I saw
Arnie stumble backward, pulling his big cock out of
Greg's mouth.  Unfortunately for Greg, Arnie hadn't
stopped pissing yet.  His thick yellow stream soaked
Greg good, and his carefully blow dried hair was
quickly plastered to his skull, and his coffee stained
shirt was now taking on a wet yellow hue.  I wondered
how he was going to keep explaining these stained
clothes to his wife.  Not to mention the urinal smell
of the hundred beers or so Arnie was eliminating.
	Arnie tried to recover his footing, but it was Greg,
latching onto his spraying cock and sucking the stream
back into his throat that brought Arnie back to the
job at hand.  He looked over his shoulder at me and I
could see a silly grin on his face reflected in the
window.
	"Who did you say this fuck is?"  Arnie was beginning
to enjoy himself.
	"My fucking boss.  That's who."
	"Shit," Arnie said.  Finishing his piss, and letting
Greg clean him off a little.  "I want to come and work
with you guys.  My fucking boss is a slave driver, and
don't do jack shit like this cocksucker."  I could see
Greg's eyes go up so he was looking at Arnie with that
big tube steak still in his mouth.  I knew Arnie had
set Greg's wheels turning.  We might be working
together again after this.
	My head hurt too bad to get into it with Greg, but he
didn't seem to mind too much.  Arnie was still too
drunk to do anymore than he had done already, so after
a while, we all sat around talking.  Greg learned that
Arnie was a tile man like me, and decided he could use
another good one on the job to speed up completion of
the development.  He even offered Arnie a bonus if he
could start work on Monday.  We finished the pot of
coffee, and Greg made a second and then a third.  By
the dregs of the third, my bladder was bursting.  Greg
offered to act the toilet, and so put him in the
shower that somebody had finally turned off, and sent
him to piss pig heaven.  He was drenched from head to
toe, and had swallowed at least half of both our hot
streams.  He seemed to get off on the flood of hot
yellow piss filling his trashy mouth.  He wanted to
get fucked after that, but neither of us was up for it
because of the hangovers.  He finally gave up begging,
and took out his thick cock, and jacked off until he
shot his load all over both of us.  We made him clean
it off with his tongue, and before it was over, he'd
tongue bathed both our stinking bodies.  He
particularly seemed to enjoy sucking our hairy sweaty
arm pits.   Arnie still reeked of vomit, but when Greg
was finished, he just reeked of Greg's bad breath and
spit.  We all got into the shower stall together, and
even though it was crammed tight, we managed at least
to rinse off some.
	I heard my landlady come home about three thirty, and
figured we'd better get our clothes on and go see her
about how much she would jack the rent up if Arnie
came to live with me.  The old biddy was steely eyed
as the three of us walked up on her porch.  We must
have looked like something the cat had drug in and
shit on before leaving it for dead.
	I explained that Arnie was my best friend, and that
we'd been in the Nam together, and that Greg was my
boss, and had hired Arnie to go to work laying tile at
the development, and all that.  What we wanted was for
Arnie to live with me until he could find a place of
his own.  She recconed that another hundred bucks a
week ought to just about cover the extra trouble
having two men living together would cause her.  We
agreed, and Greg paid Arnie's first week's rent as an
advance on his first paycheck.
	Back in the apartment, Greg told us that he wanted to
make sure he was welcome every Saturday morning for
fun and games.  We agreed, and he then insisted that
we had to promise not to get too drunk the night
before.  He wanted more than just a suck and a mouth
full of hot piss.  We agreed, and he got back in his
car finally and left.
	Arnie and I ordered a large pizza, and while we
waited for it to arrive, thirty minutes or free, and
they never made it on time, we talked over old times,
and the new times to come.  By the time the pizza guy
delivered, the pie was cold as stone on Chrismas day,
but we ate it anyway.  After all, it was fucking free.

email:  sintitulo2@yahoo.com