Warning: This piece may contain elements of fiction, but
it's a well-known fact that it's copyrighted and all rights are reserved,
It may contain scenes of unabashed adult relations and bathos. Then again, it might not.
All references to particular sources of entertainment and media personalities are real only in my head... but may be based on real people, media, etc.
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There's nothing like throwing a pity party, to which you're the only person invited, naturally. As the old saying goes: If I won't feel sorry for myself, who will?
Sometimes, even the simplest of situations and comments seem to be a threat or an insult, or worse.
For example, one day mother was complaining about the bills, as they seem to arrive more frequently nowadays and everything seems to be more expensive, though her old age pension is always at the same level.
And it was about this point in time that she said "you spend the whole day in your room on your computer with the heater on, but you don't contribute to paying the bills."
Well, it was partly true. I only put the heater on after I've had a shower and I'm trying to limit those to a couple of times a week as it's just too cold and - frankly - I can't be bothered. It's not like I go out on hot dates all the time or anything, right?
But it started to get me thinking and it made me realise that after all this time without work, my prospects weren't looking too good. Yes, I keep pondering on the same issues all the time, don't I? A bit like a broken record.
Anyhow, when stumbled upon a free copy of the newspaper in the street one afternoon, I grabbed it and went straight for the employment section.
Let's see... what type of job can I find that required a dim wit such as myself?
Table top dancer required for discreet entertainment in new gentlemen's club. No experience necessary, training provided...
Now, that sounds good, I wonder if the training they'll provide will help me trim down as it's getting more and more difficult to shed the few inches around the waistline. So I whipped up an application letter and sent it off... no, not really, but I should have!
Next: Adult chat operator required. Work at home in your spare time, great rates
Wow, interesting. So I called the number and left my details and the message said that they'd get back to me soon.
Of course, I was really looking for a job as a sex cinema cleaner. You know, the cinemas with the private booths that have all those dirty men leaving behind nice offerings of appreciation. Who knows, one could even meet some interesting people in there... but then again, I am a bit squeamish about coming onto contact with that kind of stuff - I guess it's just a part of growing older. Moreover, I don't like the smell of ripe semen.
Still, I got a call from the adult chat people.
"You're after a position as an adult chat operator?" The lady asked.
"Yes, it would be good as I'm looking after a sick relative at the moment." Then a thought of dread came over me - what if I was in the toilet or something and mother picked up the phone and it was a horny client after a hot session!
"Well, madam, we act as an agency and all the calls..."
"Sir," I corrected her.
There was a brief silence on the other end.
"Oh, excuse me, I though you were a lady?"
"No, one hundred percent male," I gruffly stated.
"Well... let me think..." she fumbled momentarily and began mumbling. "I don't think we could use you for our gay lines as you don't sound butch enough and don't have a hissy lisp either... and we're full of tranny operators at the moment..."
I felt a question mark bubble rising above my head.
"So, I'm afraid at this point in time, we don't have a position for you. But we'll keep your record on file in case something comes up, all right?"
"Yeah, OK, thanks anyway..."
See? I just know I should've applied for the table top dancing position.
Anyway, a combination of these things, and Caleb, almost pushed me into an existential crisis - well that's what I call them anyway.
What's happened with Caleb? Not much. I endured the hideous weather to walk up and see him one afternoon, as I was bored. He served me a lovely hot cocoa, but that was about all. He looked very tired, appeared disinterested in anything I had to say.
"Why do I fell like I'm suddenly not good enough for your company?" I candidly asked him.
"Yeah... Nah... you know, I'm just... ugh... stuff it... too tired... too busy studying..."
Funny how he always goes on about his studies, but I've never really seen any other evidence of it.
It was like there was some tension between us. As if we were a disgruntled married couple, on the verge of breaking up. He looked so sad. If only I could take away the pain.
"If you told me what was wrong, I promise I'd do my best to make it better," I offered.
He stared up at me. His eyes were almost overflowing pools.
"If only you knew all I've been through..." he said cryptically, before getting up and going out the back somewhere.
I decided not to go back and find him. Perhaps I felt like it was none of my business. I didn't want to invade his space. I didn't want him to feel like I was suffocating him. Or perhaps, because I'm really just too cold.
On the way home, I bumped into Miles.
"Hey, buddy, how are you?" He smiled.
"Hey, you know, still going..." I replied as a cold wind rose up and slapped me right in the face. I silently cursed the fact that I forgot my scarf at home.
"I wanna go to the whores with you."
"What?" I looked at him with mouth wide open.
"I want to go to the whores with you - don't you understand?"
"Me? Why me?" I sometimes wonder if we're from the same planet.
"You're fun," he replied. "We'll have a good time together." Good grief!
"What pills are you on? You think I want to go to your whores - with you?"
"Yeah, why not?" He smiled.
"Because I don't have any money! And it's too cold!"
"Oh, don't worry about the money. I'm a regular and I know they'll throw you a good deal. And it's nice and warm in there."
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" I repeated, "I don't have any money!"
"But I'm your buddy and you're my buddy and we've got to help each other out..." he began to put on a very vague and unsuccessful sad puppy face.
I thought about it momentarily. What did I have to lose? It might even cheer me up.
"They're putting on a special show at noon tomorrow," Miles added, "I can get you in for free!"
OK, so watching a sex show might be a bit of fun, seeing as I'd just sent some of my videos off for exchange and didn't have anything great to watch for hot titillating action.
"All right - I'll come with you but I won't be paying a cent, understand?"
He was all smiles and happy and - fortunately - didn't kiss me or anything.
The whorehouse is on the other side of town. Now, in case you thought I lived in the slums, by comparison, my place looks like the Ritz. In fact, there are lots of old, mostly disused factories in the same precinct. It's definitely the industrial part of town, and I suppose after a hard day at work, the guys all end up for a bit of hot, lewd action to relieve the tension.
"Right," began Miles as we stepped into the premises. "Let's organise to meet back here in ninety minutes, ok? That should be enough time for the show and some ... fun."
"Why? Aren't you going to stay with me during the show?" I began to worry.
"Don't worry about a thing, they'll take care of you. This place is very popular and it can get crowded in there..."
I don't know what Miles told the staff, but it appeared not only that they were expecting me, but also they were... shall we say, familiar with my persuasion.
"If you gentlemen would like to go upstairs for a complimentary drink before the show commences." We were ushered to the bar upstairs where there were a couple of dozen or so more guys, with drinks in their hands, chatting amongst themselves.
I ordered an orange juice and stood around, trying to blend in with the crowd yet trying to also have nothing to do with them.
A hot, spunky Latino number came up to me. Dreamy tanned skin with slender biceps. I turned to look for Miles but he'd gone off and was nowhere to be seen. What could I do?
"Hello there," the hunk said, with a slight accent that made him sound even more exotic. "Have you been here before?"
"Me?" Was I going to start hyperventilating? "Ummm.. No, this is my first time..." I stammered.
"Oh, so you're a first timer here..."
"Yeah, but I'm with somebody..."
"I'm Juan, I hope to see you later on..." with a twinkle in his eye, he turned around and walked off.
What was that all about? Why would somebody as hot as that come and see somebody as frumpy as me? Surely there are nicer guys around? Well, looking around to the mostly middle aged, pot-bellied brigade of dirty old men, the thought never came into my head that I'd end up being one of them in a few short years.
Milt returned with my drink and my ticket for the show.
"I hope you're going to enjoy this show. They promised me it would be something special."
Oh great, I thought. It'll be a lesbian fisting dog fuck show.
The doors to the ...errr... showroom opened and we were ushered in. We? Well, I did, Milt had disappeared again.
The room was very dark and very warm. There were a few rows of comfortable seats, but it looked to me like they wouldn't fit more than a dozen or so people in the room. It wasn't very large. It was rather... cozy. It smelled clean - not that that means anything - the seating was decent, though the loud tacky pop music was a bit annoying.
I sat down, firmly clutching my glass of orange juice. At least it'll help bring up my blood sugar if needed.
Finally, the curtains were drawn, the spotlight came on, and the first performer appeared. A guy! How nice!
He was fully clothed and it took him a while to finally take it all of. And he was limp down there when he finally did.
The model stood on one side of the stage, when another guy appeared, he looked a bit like the guy who spoke to me earlier, Juan. He ripped off his clothes a bit faster, and I thought I caught him glancing my way a few times.
I was expecting a third person to enter the scene - a female - but she didn't appear. The two guys started to fondle each other, massage each other, probably trying to get each other's cocks hard - which didn't quite work.
There was a bit of implied oral action, and what was supposed to be an anal insertion, but I don't know how he did it with a limp penis - well, I'm certain that he didn't.
Once all the fun and games were over, the guys walked off the stage.
Great, the end, that was it? No money shot?
Woe for me as the performers walked into the audience!
Juan came and sat on my lap, encouraging me to feel him up as he tried to touch me and whispered in my ear I bet you've got a monster in there, big boy.
I was so shocked by the fact that he was right there - not to mention embarrassed - that I avoided touching him and clung onto my glass of orange juice which was firmly seated in my pubic region. I froze, by frig! No way I was going to let him touch me down there! What would mother say if she knew where I was?
As the show concluded, the audience returned to the bar outside. I looked around for Miles, but he was nowhere to be seen. The dirty old men mostly wafted off - probably to private sessions with the whores, on to the next show or back to reality.
I decided to sit at the bar as it was still early and I hadn't finished my drink, as I heard a voice beside me.
"Did you enjoy the show?" I was Juan.
"Oh, yes, thanks. It was highly entertaining.." ..Not!
"You know," he came in close and started to whisper in my ear, "I could give you your very own private show. Or, if you like, we could continue the action, just you and me. Come on, whata you say?"
The offer was tempting, I suppose, but it didn't feel right. I was confused and worried about mother and Caleb.
Besides, I'm surely not that desperate?
"Another time, perhaps," I told Juan.
He shrugged his shoulders and walked off, slightly miffed, but I imagined that he'd just go off in search of another desperado so not all would be lost.
The trip back home was uneventful. I could see that Miles enjoyed himself.
"..you should've seen the big, jiggling boobies on her..." he went on ad nauseam, but I wasn't really paying attention, until he asked: "Did you enjoy yourself? It was fun, wasn't it?"
"Fun?" I looked at him. "I found it to be embarrassing in parts..."
"What do you mean? It's not like you're a virgin or anything, right?"
"No, it's nothing like that - I didn't even get naked..." I explained
"I kinda felt like that due to the weather, so I asked them to put the heating up," he quipped.
"I didn't fuck," I bluntly proclaimed.
"Oh, so you... hehehe... got fucked, then?" He sniggered.
"No, nothing like that happened."
"What? Not even a blow job?" He shouted in a tone between annoyance and disgust.
"No!" I yelled back.
That shut him up.
Perhaps, seeing what a wet blanket I am, he'll quit talking me into coming with him to places like this. Paws crossed.
Back home, I found mother having a nap in front of the heater. Poor old thing.
The sound of the creaking door to the kitchen woke her up.
"Oh, it's you," she said when I returned. "Where did you go?"
"Nowhere much. Just out for a bit with Miles."
"I'm glad you're back. I was feeling very unwell before."
"Why? What was wrong?" I was concerned.
"Just a panic attack I think -the old tachycardia. But I'm all right now. I took one of the new tablets and felt much better."
"You'd better not overdo it with them tablets, you remember the doctor said that they're very powerful and you should only take one when it's the only option."
"Yes, I know... what does it matter, anyway? I'm old. I've eaten my cookies."
"Oh, mother," I went up and gave her a hug. "You really want me to be left an orphan?"
"You still have your father," she responded.
"That's not the same. Besides, he's not going to wash my socks, is he?" I smiled.
"He wouldn't know how to!" She smiled, gently and took hold of my hand.
"Don't worry," she told me, "I hope to live to be a hundred."
I was relieved to hear that.
I hadn't been in the mood to go on line for a while - all those hot studs with their fake smiles and their faker orgasms just couldn't do it for me. Still, I suppose I had my e-mail, not to mention the ongoing search for work.
Tassy sent me a message. I forgot that I'd sent her a message asking her about the mystery guy Caleb told me he saw her with a few weeks back. Unfortunately, she didn't mention him, but she did say that she wanted to see me for lunch in a couple of weeks, once her hair starts looking decent again, so we could go and do some shopping.
Shopping? How bizarre. Anyway, I'd ask her all about her hot new beau when I'd see her!
More pointless spam filled my in box. I generally know that things aren't
going very well for me when I actually read the spam and - shock! Horror!
- follow the links to the dubious penis extension sites.
For a while, the domain of my dreams was not very inhabitable. Well, that's not entirely true. I know that I do have some dreams, but they seem so pointless that I can't remember them. Until one night when I had the most bizarre dream.
My adored dead lover was in it; he was alive. He took me in his arms, gently playing with my hair, telling me how much he loves me. I couldn't open my mouth, I couldn't tell him how much I loved him. All I could do was feel sad, and the more love he threw into my direction, the more undeserving of his devotion and pained I felt. There was so much that I wanted to tell him, so much that I never got around to telling him, yet my mouth wouldn't open.
Tears started pouring out of my eyes. I'd hoped he could see and in this bizarre manner, I could communicate with him. Finally, with one finger, I touched his mouth. He stopped talking and disappeared.
I awoke after that dream, it was still dark, but I was feeling eerily shattered. As if somebody pulled the soul right out of my body, leaving me all empty. Trying to get back to sleep was an ordeal. It was like my body didn't want to go back to sleep, but I still felt tired and couldn't open my eyes.
Just then, an indeterminable feeling of utter gloom and sadness enveloped me. I felt as if I were the only person on the planet. As if everybody had abandoned me. I felt like Tassy had let me down and Caleb... oh, Caleb... If only you knew that I'd give my life to be with you, if only for a few minutes... Caleb had betrayed me. I had no idea why. It was like a feeling, a vision. I'd dare to say a prophecy, but that would sound too wanky. It was strange but above all, it was completely a repellent feeling.
I barely got over that feeling when - this morning - there was a delivery for me: My new batch of dirty videos! I naturally felt enthusiastic and curious. Of course, I'm always curious whenever I see a guy in the street and wonder what they look like without their laundry so it doesn't take much to set me off.
Sitting on my PC, I started to watch the first tape. Sure, it was hot, with plenty of beefy guys moaning and thrusting, but... it didn't feel right.
Even Premium Porn couldn't get me going. I was watching it, but my mind was elsewhere.
Where? Nowhere. It was blank. It was switched off. Nothing meant anything anymore.