Date: Sun, 15 Oct 2000 01:00:55 EDT
From: Marc P <miniegg69@hotmail.com>
Subject: bisexual/college/corrupting-a-minor-11

CORRUPTING A MINOR

-by Marc P. (email miniegg69@hotmail.com)


CHAPTER 11

I would be lying if I said that things were fine between Julie, Sean and
myself in the weeks following our latest sexual escapade.  I spent a lot of
time working on my thesis as the winter began to wind down, so I
consequently didn't do much socializing.

Julie instantly set in on the wedding preparations.  Both her parents and
mine were happier than pigs in shit that I had finally proposed, and the
wedding kept her busy, since her last term she had a much lighter class load
owing to the fact that she had been smart enough not to write a thesis, or
do anything strenuous other than look for a job (which she already had, I
kept pointing out, but that didn't stop her from only taking a few credits
anyway).

I was also a little less stressed out, considering med school acceptances
had begun to roll in.  It was a classic case of my underestimation of my
abilities.  Of all the schools who gave me second round interviews, only
Hopkins didn't accept me.  And screw them.  Harvard waitlisted me, but
Columbia and NYU both said `yay', which was going to be a tough decision for
me, considering my new engagement.  If I held out for Harvard I'd have to
move from New York in a year.  But if I accepted Columbia then I didn't have
to defer like I had been planning.  And I know Julie had her heart set on
living in New York for a few years at least, and she was less than excited
about the prospect of living in Boston.

But my life was going pretty much as I'd expected.  I was happy and
successful, and the closer I came to graduation, the closer I came to
finishing my thesis which was the current bane of my existence.  So things
were looking up.

Except I had to deal with Sean.

Everything had more or less been fine since we put a moratorium on the sex,
but he'd gotten a little more brazen with his suggestive comments.  He'd
also use every opportunity available to touch me, my shoulder or arm or
whatnot, during conversations.  Maybe it had always been that way and now
that I knew that he had feelings for me I was a little more sensitive to the
whole deal.  I'd asked him a few times if he could cool it and he usually
got visibly upset.

He broke up with Leonora shortly after his confession of love.  Julie said
she came crying to her one day, wondering what she'd done wrong and asking
why Sean would dump her out of the blue.  Julie told me later that it was
one of the more uncomfortable moments of her life (surprise, surprise).

Sean had been a lot more quiet, even when we hung out as a group, and often
went home early to go to sleep.  I thought he might be slipping into a sort
of depression and suggested that he talk to one of the campus councilors.
He didn't take too well to that idea, and I can pretty much say the same for
Julie when I suggested that maybe all three of us should go.  I was just
trying to be fucking reasonable, God forbid!

The proverbial shit hit the fan the weekend that Julie left campus for a
mediation retreat.  She worked with the campus mediation center, and
apparently was really good at it, helping groups and individuals work out
their problems.  I was not convinced by any evidence she provided with how
she dealt with issues in her own life, but who was I to judge? I'm just her
fiancé.

Anyway, it was one of the first nice weekends we'd had in awhile, best
described as brisk and much more like fall than the lingering edge of winter
that it was.  Steve and I decided to go down by the river, have a few beers,
and smoke a joint or two.  It was early, just after dinner, but the sun had
already set.  We hiked a bit through the woods, and down the steep
embankment to the edge of the river.  I cleared away some of the fallen
twigs and branches and we sat down on the cold ground, placing the six-pack
of Magic Hat #9 between us.

It was still cold enough to see our breath, but we soon didn't notice
because the beer quickly warmed our insides.  We talked about the end of the
year, our upcoming graduation, and my upcoming wedding.  I'd asked Steve to
be my best man.  We talked about Rebecca, who he was still dating (a record
for Steve, I might add).  He said he thought he was falling in love with
her.  Damn, everyone was in love.  That's senior year for you.  Everyone
gets nervous that playtime is over and they get the real-world jitters.

After a few drinks, I pulled out a pre-rolled joint and lit it up, passing
it to Steve after taking a few puffs.  We quickly finished the jay and I
pulled out a second one.  Steve didn't smoke that often but when he did he
got higher than a kite in a matter of minutes, which was reasonable since he
hadn't quite been able to understand the difference between a puff and
vacuum strength suck.  I took a little longer but was still soaring in a
very short time.  Our deep conversation about the nature of life and love
had turned into a giggle-fest in no time.

And then, right in a slurred chorus of I-love-you-mans, we were bathed from
behind in a bright white light.

"That wouldn't be a marijuana cigarette you boys are smoking down there,
would it?" I heard a deep voice from behind say.  Both Steve and I whipped
around, shielding our eyes from the bright flashlight that was shining at
us.  But I could clearly make out the outline of two officers of the law.
And not campus PO, either.  These would be the local law enforcement agents.

"Not at all, officer," I slurred, tossing the joint into the river as
surreptitiously as I could muster, which was about as subtle as an elephant
jogging down the Champs-Elysee.  And then I giggled.

"Well it doesn't smell like tobacco," the officer said gruffly.

"It's flavored tobacco," Steve said.  Good one, Steve, I thought, good one.

"Uh-huh.  And what flavor would that be?"  We both sat there, dumbfounded.
I could see Steve's feeble brain searching for an answer, and not finding
one, so I came to his rescue.

"Pot-flavored!" I said cheerfully.  And then started laughing hysterically.

"Uh-huh," the policeman replied, obviously not amused.  We'll obvious to
anyone who wasn't stoned out of his gourd.  "Can you two stand up please?"

"Well now, that might take us awhile," Steve said, and started laughing too.
  Now I was doubled over, tears streaming down my cheeks.  We were fucked.
But I was too high to care.

The cop still didn't look amused.  The policeman who hadn't spoken yet
stepped forward.  He was young, early twenties maybe, short-cropped hair.
He shined his flashlight on our empty six-pack.  "That your beer?" he asked.

"Nope.  We just found it lying here," Steve said between laughs, "and didn't
want it to go to waste.  Shame to waste good beer."

"Don't be a smartass," the young cop snapped.

That pissed me off.  "Hey," I said.  "We're twenty-one.  It's perfectly
legal!"

"It's not perfectly legal to have an open container in a public area," the
older cop replied harshly.  "And it's certainly not legal to be smoking pot.
  Now stand the fuck up!"

It was then that I realized that we were probably in serious trouble.  Steve
and I did our best to stand on the slanted ground without falling over.

"Empty your pockets," the young cop demanded.  I reached into my pocket and
handed him my keys and my wallet.  Steve did the same with both his pockets.
  "Now the other pocket," he told me.  My head was spinning.  My stomach was
churning.  This was bad.  I slowly reached into my other pocket and pulled
out a little baggy with a few rolled joints and some loose weed.  The cop
took the bag and smirked, which made my stomach do two-and-half rotation
backwards half-pike.

And that's when I threw up.

When I was finished, the older officer grabbed me roughly by the arm and
jerked me away from the river, the younger cop doing the same with Steve.
Cuffing our hands behind our backs, they hauled our sorry asses to their
cruiser, muttering something derogatory about college kids in this damn
town.  As he shoved me into the back seat of the car, the cop said, "If you
fucking boot in my car I'm going to beat your sorry ass till it bleeds."  I
couldn't help but laugh.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * *


They locked Steve and me in a cell together.  It was still early but we
didn't know who to call to get us out.  Steve was a nervous wreck.  Hell, I
was a nervous wreck.  This was going to wreak havoc on my career.  I didn't
think I would get expelled, but I didn't know what was going to happen with
medical school.  I'd already filled out all the applications, indicating I'd
never been arrested for a felony, and maybe they'd never ask again.  But I
didn't know.  Steve was worried about the job he had lined up.  To put it
mildly, life had fucked us up the ass and didn't even bother to call the
next day.

Steve didn't want to phone Rebecca to bail us out, because she didn't
approve of the marijuana to begin with and he was going to have to break
this news to her as delicately as possible and from a jail cell was not the
best way to do that.  Julie was away, so I couldn't call her.  Steve didn't
want to call any of his brothers because he didn't want to get the house
involved, which was currently going through some shit with the
administration as it was.  Not to mention the fact that he'd catch hell for
it.  He'd catch hell eventually, but not now.  Not while we were still high.
  We could always just spend the night, but I didn't like that idea in the
slightest.  That left one alternative.

I called Sean.

He showed up about a half hour later.  Steve and I were sitting across from
each other, slouched over staring at the floor.  I was still high as a kite.
  I heard Sean cough and I looked up.  He was standing on the other side of
the bars, wearing a pair of faded jeans, a fleece pullover, and pair of
hiking boots.  He had his arms folded across his chest and he was grinning.

"Have you been sodomized yet?" he asked, smiling.  "'Cause if not, I could
always come back later."

"We're in the middle of Bumblefuck, New England, you asshole," I laughed.
"They don't do that shit here.  And besides, we're the only two people in
this goddamn jail."

"Only takes two to tango," Sean smirked.

"Yeah, you'd like to see that, wouldn't you?"  I chuckled and Steve laughed
uncomfortably.  One of the officers let us out, giving us a nasty look as he
did so, and the three of us walked slowly back to campus in the chilly night
air.

When we hit Parker Street, Steve turned off to go home.  "You're not gonna
come back to my room?  Smoke a bowl maybe?"

Steve grimaced.  "No.  I think I'm going to go to bed."  He walked off
sullenly.  Sean and I continued back to our dorm, walking in silence.  I
invited him into my room when we got back inside, and he took me up on the
invitation.  We pulled off our coats and kicked off our shoes.  I started
rummaging through my drawers for a pipe and some more weed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sean asked, aghast.

"I need to stay high," I said.  "I can't fucking deal with this.  I just
can't.  You want some?"

He stared at me, almost menacingly.  "I don't think so," he said flatly.

I lit up a bowl and plopped down on the futon.  Sean sat on the bed across.
I spent a good part of the next hour lamenting over my situation, my
stupidity.  I kept smoking and offering some to Sean, but he kept declining.
  I moaned about how I might get expelled, or my med school acceptances
turned around, and how I didn't know how to tell my parents and about how
fucked I was in general.  And Sean just listened and let me smoke.

After awhile I started to cry.  And I was feeling a tad bit nauseated, both
from the fear in my gut and the weed.  I felt awkward unleashing such raw
emotion in front of Sean, but all my sensitivities were heightened by the
drugs and the events of the evening.  But Sean and I were close, and
besides, I  couldn't stop the flood of tears.  Sean silently crawled off the
bed and sat next to me on the futon.  He put his arm gently around my
shoulder and I instinctively buried my face in his chest.  With his other
hand he started stroking my hair tenderly.

"It's OK," he whispered, "it'll be alright.  Everything will work out fine."
  They were blanket statements, and I knew everything wasn't going to be
fine, and it was the thought that counts anyway.  I clutched his side and
squeezed myself closer to him, feeling his warmth radiating from his body as
he stroked and soothed me.  He ran his fingertips across my cheek.  After a
few minutes he put his hand underneath my chin and raised my face so that I
was looking into his eyes.  What I saw in them was the kindest, gentlest,
most supportive look I'd ever been given, not from Julie, or Steve, or my
parents.  From no one.

I was breathing awkwardly now, trying to catch my breath from my emotional
outburst, as well trying to mentally calm my churning stomach.  Sean looked
like he wanted to kiss me, and I think I wanted to kiss him back.  But there
was a moratorium on that.  It was even more forbidden now than it had been
before.  And I was relying on Sean to be the strong one, because I was
physically, mentally, and emotionally fatigued.

But Sean wanted it more than I did, I could see it in his eyes.  He
hesitated but my face gave away no hint of protest, so he slowly leaned
towards me and pressed his soft lips against mine.  His touch sent a bolt of
electricity down my spine.  I closed my eyes and gave in.

This kiss was both delicate and passionate at the same time.  As Sean gently
nibbled on my bottom lip, his hand continually caressed my face.  He started
to probe a little deeper, parting my lips slightly with his tongue and
running the tip lovingly between them.  All of my muscles relaxed
instantaneously and I went limp beneath him.  He had me in a trance.

Slowly he lowered me down onto my back, continuing the passionate kiss, and
ran his hand under my shirt and up my stomach.  I moaned involuntarily.
Unconsciously I lifted my pelvis and pressed against his body as he stroked
my chest.  I raked my fingers lightly across his T-shirt covered back.

And then my mind began to wander to that place minds aren't supposed to go
when you are being physically pleasured by an unbelievably attractive young
man who would walk through fire for you if you simply asked; my mind entered
Rationality Land.  We were not supposed to be doing this.  I was engaged and
while we had all fucked around in the past we came to an understanding.
This was now just plain cheating.  It had to stop.

I gently pushed Sean off me.  He pulled away from my face and looked
quizzically into my eyes.  "What's the matter?" he whispered, a slight frown
on his lips that made me want to attack them even more.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I replied.  "We can't do this."

"Why not?" he asked.  Good question, I thought.  Why not?  Because it's
wrong, even though I so wanted to.  He pressed his lips against mine again.
Ooh, that one sent another shiver.

I pushed him off once more.  "We can't do this," I repeated.  "We have to
stop."

"Don't worry about it," he said, nibbling on my neck.  "Julie's not around,
it's all good."  He started to suck on my ear.  And he did have a point.
Julie wasn't around, and it wasn't like – woah, wait a second!  Sean just
admitted it.  He fucking admitted that what we were doing was a violation of
the trust Julie had in me.

This time I shoved him off and sat up startled.  "Get off me," I said.

"What the hell?" he cried.

"I'm not going to cheat on Julie now, I'm just not."

"It's not cheating on Julie," he tried to rationalize.

"And exactly how wouldn't it be?"

He paused for a second, it looked like he was mulling it over in his mind.
Then he leaned back in and kissed me softly.  "It's not because you know you
want it."  And Jesus Christ did I want it.  I wanted him so badly, I wanted
to run my hand and mouth over every inch of his perfectly sculpted body, to
lick off the sweat and cum and I wanted it more than I wanted anything in my
life.  And I was almost high enough to give in.  But I wasn't that high.
What had started out as a game and a fun time had turned into a sordid
affair.  And I sure as hell didn't want that.

I pushed him off to the side, rolling him off my body and onto the floor.
He fell on his back with a thud.  He swore under his breath.  "I don't even
know if I want this," I cried, "and I'm not cheating on my fiancé."

"I don't get you," he said, standing up.  "Why are you torturing me like
this?"

"Torturing you?  Like what?"

"Teasing me.  Fucking with my mind."

"How am I fucking with your mind?" I asked bewildered.  "You came on to me
tonight."

"But you started it," he said flatly.

"I didn't start anything.  I just had my entire life fall apart in one night
and was looking for a little sympathy.  I wasn't asking you to fuck me!"

"Not tonight.  Back in September."

"Back in September?!?  I didn't –"

"You opened me up to something that I never thought existed.  And I fell in
love with you.  And I'm sorry if I can't let that go."

"I'm sorry about that, I really am, but we've talked about this.  What do
you want me to do?  And don't go blaming me for September, it was all
Julie's idea and –"

"Of course it was," Sean said sardonically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, defensively.

"Nothing.  I don't want to get into right now," he answered disgustedly.

"No, tell me," I pushed.

"I don't want to.  You'll get pissed."

"I won't get pissed."  I probably would, but whatever.

"Well, it's just that you can't help but notice that Julie's a little bit,
well, loose."

"What?!"  I stood up and clenched my fists angrily and glared at him.  Yep,
I was pissed.

Sean rolled his eyes.  "Face it, Marc, your girlfriend's whore."  Where the
hell did this come from? I thought.

"Take that back," I said thickly.

"Marc, wake up.  She flirts incessantly.  She came on to me in my room with
you right there and you didn't do anything about it.  She's cheated on you
before, you do know that?"  I swallowed hard.  She had, back during our
freshman year.  We'd only been dating for a few months, but it still stung.
"Face it, she's a whore."  But she wasn't a whore, dammit.

I swung my right arm up and backhanded Sean across the face.  The back of my
hand made a dull thwack as it came in contact with Sean's jaw.  His head
jerked to the side as my arm came full around.  "She's not a whore," I
hissed.

Sean glared at me menacingly as he massaged his jaw.  "Now that I think
about it," he said grimly, "I fucked you a hell of a lot more than I fucked
her.  I guess that makes you the whore."

That set me off.  I jammed my forearm into his throat and shoved him with my
entire body weight.  He staggered back a few steps, slamming his back
against the wall.  Pinning him there, I pressed harder against his neck.  He
reached his arms up and tried to push my arm away from this throat, but I
had the better leverage.  Our faces were only an inch or so apart and I was
fuming.  "I think you're the whore," I hissed.

"No, you're the whore," he managed to say, although it was obviously I was
cutting off the air supply to his lungs.

I pressed even harder and said, "Apologize.  Now."

He looked at me defiantly.  "No," he croaked.  "Whore."  And then he spit in
my face.  The thick glob of saliva hit me in the cheek and slowly dripped
down my face.  And that was it.  I flipped out.

I eased up on his neck but didn't give him any time to recover before I
pulled a tightly clenched fist backwards and brought it crashing into his
stomach.  Sean let out a strangled cough as he doubled over clutching his
belly.  He sure as hell didn't see that one coming.  While he was bent over
I grabbed him by the back of his neck and shoved him to the ground.  He went
sprawling, face first into the carpet.  I leapt on top of him and,
straddling his midsection, rolled him over so he was on his back.

Sean looked up at me, terrified.  I didn't give him a chance to retaliate.
I punched him square in the face.  It hurt my hand so it must have hurt his
cheekbone.  I went to take another swing, I just wanted to beat the living
shit of this kid.  I wanted to take all of my anger and frustration and
confusion and God knows what else that was running through my feeble mind at
that point, and pound him into a bloody pulp.

I never got another blow because he managed to recover in time and grabbed
my wrist, keeping me from swinging.  My body was at an awkward position,
hovering over him, so he was able to use the hold he had on my wrist and his
legs and hips to flip me over so I was lying on my back.  He tried to take a
swing at me as well, but it was a pathetic attempt and I grabbed his arm
just as he had stopped me.

We rolled around on the floor for awhile, flipping each other over,
occasionally getting in a jab or two apiece.  Nothing serious.  But I worked
up quite a sweat and I was getting very tired rapidly.  Sean was putting up
a decent fight, but I had a few inches and twenty pounds on him, as well as
having clocked him really good twice, so it was only a matter of time before
I clearly had the upper hand.

I managed to get him flat on his back, pinning his arms above his head and
keeping his legs immobile with my thighs.  He continued to struggle but
after awhile gave in and lay still.  I laid on top of him, trying
desperately to catch my breath.  Sean was panting almost more than I was.

But I was now at an impasse.  I didn't know what to do with this gorgeous
young man who lay beneath me.  I'd pinned him, true, but now what?  Our
faces were inches apart, both of us gasping for breath like we'd just run a
marathon.  The look in Sean's eyes was one of fear, exhaustion and
desperation.  He was scared and should have been because I was fuming like a
rabid dog.  But somehow my anger gave way to an animal lust.  I think Sean
noticed it too, because his eyes lost some of the fear as I leaned down and
pressed my lips against his.

Sean's body relaxed slightly as I drove my tongue feverishly into his mouth,
running over his own tongue and teeth in a passion-driven kiss.  I let go of
his arms so I could touch and rub his face, and he instantly wrapped his
freed arms around my body and rubbed up and down my back.  Our kiss didn't
last very long, however.  I wanted more and I wanted it badly.

I kissed down his face and neck roughly, sucking and biting as I went.  My
hands reached under the edge of his shirt and I yanked it off him over his
head, exposing his still hairless chest, and perky little boy nipples.  My
mouth traveled down his beautifully sculpted neck until I reached one of
those dark, hard nips.  He stroked my hair as I ran my tongue around his
nipple once or twice to get it good and erect.  And then I bit and pulled at
it.

"Ow," Sean gasped, but I slapped his flank and told him to shut the fuck up.
  Surprisingly he remained docile.  I didn't pay much attention to his
nipple either because there were bigger and better things I needed to do to
this boy.  I don't know what had come over me.  No, that's a lie, I did know
what had come over me.  I was furious and my frustration and anger had
turned into my desire to utterly ravish Sean, to totally take over his body.
  I no longer wanted to beat the living shit out of him.  I wanted to fuck
the living shit out of him.  And there was nothing he could do to stop me.

I quickly licked my way down to his waist, and quickly undid his pants.  In
one swift motion I sat back on my haunches and yanked Sean's pants and
underwear off him.  His legs were now raised up in the air, and free of
clothing, his rosy little ass was exposed.  I lunged like a falcon in the
dive.  Spreading his legs up and out and placing them on my shoulders, I
drove my tongue into his hole.  I still hate rimming but I needed to get him
at least a little wet.  He was smelling pretty rank today, too; he must not
have showered recently.  I noticed as I licked at his hole that his cock was
stiff as a board, and leaking a little bit of precum.

Sean let out a soft moan as I licked and probed his chute.  But soon I
pulled back.  He looked at me, his eyes pleading.  He wants this, I told
myself.  So I'm going to give it to him.  Oh, I'm so going to give it to
him.  I yanked my own pants down to my ankles and kicked them off.  My own
cock was hard with anticipation.  I spit on my hand and gave my dick a quick
once-over so it wouldn't sting too much.  But soon I was driving my cock in
and out of his ass.

He grunted as I thrust it in the first time, but the little shit's ass was
used to it at this point so my prick went in easily enough.  I wrapped my
fingers around Sean's ankles for support as I pistoned in and out of his
tight boy pussy.  I drove harder and harder, each time pushing his legs
closer to his chest.  "Ouch," he groaned.  "Not so hard."

"Shut up," I hissed again.  He grunted with each thrust.  As they got harder
he started to slide a little bit each time, rubbing his bare back against
the carpet.  Each thrust was deeper than the next and with each one we
inched closer to the wall and I pressed his legs closer to his chest, as if
I were folding him up like a piece of paper.  And each time I leaned closer
to his hard, chiseled body.

Sean reached over his head to brace himself against the wall, so he didn't
slam his head.  But I kept on fucking his brains out.  "Arrgh," he moaned.
"Stop it, Marc, this hurts."  I ignored him and continued fucking his
asshole.  I could see the muscles in his arms tense with each jab as he
tried to keep me from slamming his head into the wall.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I asked between pants.  "Isn't it?"

"Not like this," he moaned, tears beginning to well in his eyes.  It was
rough.  But I didn't care.  I could feel my balls tightening and I knew I
was getting close.

"You're dick seems to be enjoying it," I muttered  through gritted teeth.  I
reached down and gave his swollen cock a few tugs.  He closed his eyes and
shuttered with a soft, breathy moan.  I continued the anal assault until my
insides couldn't take it any more.  I pulled my cock almost all the way out
of his abused hole and rammed it in a full force.  He wasn't expecting that
much power behind it.  His arms gave way and his head banged into the wall
with a thud.  A few more quick thrusts and I was done for.  My ball sac had
tightened itself up against my body as far as it could go and it was ready
to unleash it's sticky contents into Sean's bowels.

I unloaded shot after shot of hot, creamy sperm into his chute, each wave of
orgasm making me shake and pump Sean's legs even closer to his chest.  My
twitching cock must have sent something of inside of him because without
touching his own engorged member, it shot several thick streams of boycum
onto his sweaty stomach and chest.

I pulled my softening cock out of Sean and lowered his contorted legs.
Exhausted from that torrid little escapade I collapsed onto his body, my
face resting on his chest just below his neck, my shirt smearing the drying
cum that coated his abdomen.  My head rose and fell with each of Sean's
heavy breathes as he tried to regain his composure.

But I was in a daze.  I had been overcome by pure animal passion and I ended
up fucking Sean.  And I fucked him bad.  He was going to be sore after this.
  Very sore.  I felt as though I had gotten my revenge for him calling Julie
a whore.  And yet at the same time I had the distinct feeling that I had
somehow been suckered into this, that it was Sean who had tricked me into
doing something I didn't want to.  Shit, he was the one who let me smoke
till I was in the stratosphere.  He knew I was high, and all emotional, and
it's his fault dammit.  Ugh, I can't deal with this, I thought, I just can't
deal.

I slowly pushed myself off of Sean, and sat on the floor and found my pants
so I could put them back on.  Sean slowly sat up too and leaned against the
wall.  He made no effort to get changed.  He just stared at me.  His eyes
were wet and his cheekbone looked a little puffy where I had decked him.  I
paused and stared back at him.  There was a long moment of silence, and then
he spoke.

"What do you want?" he said softly.

That was a good question.  What did I want?  I wanted Julie.  I wanted Sean.
  I wanted Sean and Julie.  I wanted my life to return back to normal.  And
right then, more than anything else, I wanted him to leave so I could figure
out what the fuck it was that I wanted.

"I want you to go," I replied, pulling my pants all the way back on.

"No," Sean answered.  "I mean what do you *want*?  You can't just keep
fucking me and then pushing me out.  I'm not a fucking toy."

I sighed.  "Look, Sean, I can't deal with this right now.  I'm too high to
–"

"You're always too fucking high to deal!" he spat.  "Maybe if you laid off
the drugs you'd be able to handle life like the rest of world!"

"I don't need this shit right now," I said.

"Well, you've got it.  I'm here and you have to deal with me.  Because I'm
not going away.  You have to wake up and smell the goddamn fucking coffee,
Marc.  You've got problems, and they go deeper than me."  Sean stood up and
started to dress.

"Of course I've got problems, you moron!  What the fuck have I been moaning
to you about all night!  I've fucked my life up pretty damn good and I don't
need you fucking it up any more."

"You know what your problem is?" Sean said as he buckled his pants and
started to pull on his shirt.  "You're problem is that your making a huge
fucking mistake by marrying Julie.  And you know it."

"No, making a mistake would be dumping Julie to stay with a fucking faggot
like you!"  He froze.  First he looked shocked, then he looked sad, and then
he looked disgusted.  And I instantly regretted saying it.  If I could take
back any one moment of my life, that would be the one that I would take back
in a heart beat.  "Wait, Sean, I didn't mean that," I tried to recover.  But
the damage was done.

Sean reached down and picked up his shoes and socks.  "I'm leaving," he
spat, and turned abruptly on his heel.  I grabbed his arm and turned him
back around.

"Wait, Sean, I told you I didn't mean that," I pleaded.  He jerked out of my
grip violently.

"What's the matter?" he hissed, bitterly.  "You got your fucking wish.  I'm
going away."  He turned to leave the room.  He paused, and looked back over
his shoulder.  "And I don't think I'm coming back."  He slammed the door
behind him as he left.

I stood, staring at the door, stupefied.  I just won the award for the
world's shittiest person.  I had taken a poor, innocent boy, toyed with his
emotions, completely turned his sexuality upside down, and then tossed him
aside.  And why?  Why?  Because I was in love with Julie, that's why.  And
why the hell was he attacking her all night?  What brought this on?  Was it
a new tactic to try to get me to go to him?  Or was it not a selfishly
motivated outburst?

All I did know is that I couldn't get any lower than I had sunk to at that
point.  And it frustrated me.  "Goddammit!" I cried out loud.  "Fuck, fuck,
fuck!"  I kicked my bureau out of frustration, which was the stupidest thing
I did to date because I was barefoot still.  "Fuck!" I spat again as I
hopped on one foot to my desk.

I sat and stared at my computer for no apparent reason.  Why had I called
Sean a faggot?  Is there any way I can save this relationship now?  Three
strikes and your out, and I was on at least my twelfth.  "Goddammit!" I
swore again and pounded my fists onto my desk a few times.  I only managed
to knock a shot glass off my shelf.

I stood up and began to pace.  My mind was racing, my blood was pounding in
my veins.  And I was still high as a kite and having trouble pacing
straight, although it could have very well been because I was hobbling due
to the fact that I think I broke my toe.  What the fuck was I going to do?
I had to make this better somehow, I had to.  I cared too much about Sean to
let this go.  I mean, I really did care about Sean.  Almost as much as I
cared about Julie.  No, that's wrong, admit it, Marc, you care about Sean as
much as Julie.  But how can you go about loving two people?  And how could
you have been so fucking stupid, tonight?  Getting arrested, practically
raping Sean, cheating on Julie, and now this.

"AAARRRGGHH!"  I let out a primal, guttural groan as I clenched my hand into
a fist and let out all of my anger and frustration and confusion and I
punched the wall.

And I think I heard my bones actually break.

The wall was cement and my hand was not.  I let out a high pitched shriek of
pain that I was glad no one was around to hear because it wasn't very manly.
  I collapsed to the floor and cradled my hand.  I sat there for a few
minutes, but the pain refused to dull.  Even in my overly stoned state, I
knew I had probably fractured something.  I crawled over to the nightstand
where I kept my phone and dialed the campus police so they could take me to
the hospital.

And though I managed to remember to put on shoes and coat, I forgot to
change my cum-stained shirt.


To Be Continued. . . .

As always, thanks for all the support I'm getting for this series.  I really
appreciate all the input I've been receiving.  And remember, comments and
suggestions are always welcomed.


Marc
miniegg69@hotmail.com