Thank you for continuing with Lance's recovery in AA. More than anything, I hope this story moves you. There is so much more to come.

Please remember that the Nifty platform provides a service we all enjoy. It is dependent on its readers.

 

Meeting No. 6 July 27

"Hi, I'm Lance. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Lance," the group replied.

"I find myself questioning everything nowadays. I'm trying to figure out where I went ... off path. You would think everything was going well. Family and friends seemed to like me."

I looked at the audience. Most faces seemed familiar to me.

"I have a big dick. That sounds outrageous to say, and I'm sorry. It's supremely crass to say that, but ... well, it is. I don't say it to brag. In fact, just the opposite. It has never brought me anything worthwhile."

I put my hand on my face and rubbed it for a second, taking a deep breath.

"You'd think it would be an advantage, but ... nope. Every sexual encounter I had left me unsatisfied in one way or another. Except ... with the person I can't have. The two times we were ... sexually intimate ... were great. Really great. I think it was because he just wanted me ... not ... `it.' The girls I slept with probably had heard ... you know ... but those nights left me flat. There was no electricity. When I tried it with other men, it was better, but was all just ... superficial. At least with men, I was more aroused. One guy, who is actually now my boss — Yikes, that sounds bad — he point blank said he only went out with me because of my ... you know. I think most guys would think I was so amazingly lucky to be so endowed, ... sorry, but my experiences are either too clumsy or too meaningless. Maybe I'm a romantic. I never thought of myself as one. At the same time, just sleeping around seemed so ... trampy. Yet I did, and rarely felt happy. So, I drank. I regretted involving the women I did. So, I drank. And drank. College kids sleep with anybody. I just couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. Why wasn't it working for me? It was sex; it should have been awesome and fun and wonderful. I enjoyed it I suppose, but I really felt broken more than anything else. And drank. Most people probably thought I was some stud, but ... I was a mess. And I just drank the worse I felt messed up."

I was worried I might see an appalled face in the crowd, but I didn't. They probably should have been, but they seemed like they were really listening. It was a pretty unusual topic for the group. I had never been known for my tact.

"Because of people like you — people who actually listen — I guess I've done a lot of thinking. I've never done that before. I just drank instead. So, thank you for that. As much as I am figuring out things about myself that I don't like, I at least feel some pride in the direction I'm going. If I offended you, I am sorry. I certainly didn't intend to. My friend says I am too blunt.

"Thank you for being a safe space."

The group awkwardly clapped as I sat down.

A woman got up next. I had seen her once but had not heard her speak.

"Hi, I'm Emily. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Emily," the group replied.

"Maybe I can relate to Lance," she said. "I grew up thinking sex was the be all, end all. Every TV show, every movie, even advertisements ... they just shoved sex at you. Surely it was supposed to be amazing. I had sex for the first time when I was 20. It was ... unextraordinary. One of my roommates was 21, so she supplied me with beer. After a few more guys, I felt the same. I never felt magic. I guess it was just casual, therefore, it meant nothing. My friends were doing it for `fun.' They expected nothing from it. I guess I was different. I wanted it to be this amazing thing I had built up for years. And it wasn't."

Emily stared at her shoes.

"When I finally got a boyfriend when I was out on my own, I thought it would be better. It was. I loved him. It felt special. Then it changed to where he only wanted to do it after he drank. We drank a lot together. Sex soon got associated with drinking. Then it stopped, and drinking became yelling. After five years, there was no love, no magic, no sex ... just drinking and yelling. Although he never hit me, our last day together, he just shoved me out of the way. I fell. He told me he wished I would move out."

Emily ran her fingers through her hair.

"So, I had nothing. The only thing I took from the relationship was the drinking. When I realized I couldn't stop, I hated myself. I knew what I had done. I knew that had to be the bottom. But I got so scared that I thought, `What if it isn't? What if I could sink lower?' That scared the hell out of me. So here I am. It's been seven weeks for me. It hasn't been easy, but any time I am tempted, I just remember how it felt to land on the floor, and that helps snap me back.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

"Hi, I'm Richard. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Richard," the group replied.

"It has been almost four years since my wife died. Yesterday was my wife's birthday. It's not like the date is circled on the calendar or anything. I know it immediately. In fact, I knew for days that it was approaching. Last evening it overwhelmed me. You'd think I'd be better, but ... God, I still miss her."

I felt bad for Richard. He looked to be retired. His hair was gray. A death is hard to get over, but if it leaves you alone, that's really tough.

"I couldn't take it anymore and drove to the liquor store about a mile from my house. I sat in the parking lot and just stared at the front doors. For 20 minutes I think I just stared. My mind kept me from going in, but my ... whole body just wanted to. Just to drink the feelings away. I knew that wouldn't accomplish anything, but ... it was a struggle. I was in bad shape.

"I pictured this group, and that helped. It helped a lot. I just sobbed in my car. I felt weak. But the fact that I started the car and drove home made me feel stronger. I ... I ... I just miss her. The house still feels empty. I should have come to a meeting, but it was too late for one. I knew I should come tonight."

For a second, I tried to identify with Richard. If Trent died, I think that would push me back to drinking. I couldn't take that. Fuck. I'm 22. How sad is it that alcohol seems a solution? I really fucked myself up this year.

"I'm glad you are here. Thank you for being here for me. For all of us."

The group clapped.

More than a dozen people shared tonight. Emily and I were the only two that mentioned sex. They all had heart-wrenching stories though. Ophelia was chairperson tonight. She gave me my sixth signature.

I loitered after the meeting just to see if she wanted to visit. I saw her hug Richard. I went up and asked if I could do the same. He awkwardly grabbed me, saying "thank you." Bless his heart. He indicated to us that he was okay to be on his own tonight. He headed out the door.

"You look fantastic tonight," I told Ophelia.

"Lance, you are so sweet. Thank you."

"Seriously. You really look hot."

"You're supposed to be gay you know."

"Maybe my friend is right. Maybe I am bisexual. I could picture the two of us having some mad moments in the sheets," I playfully teased.

"Child! The things you say. I know you are only joking, but ... you turn my head being such a young thing complimenting me. Thank you. After your share, you kind of make me want to take you up on it."

"Oh, that."

"I'd love to go for coffee, but my mother is in town, and we are going out for a late dinner," Ophelia said. "I hope we can visit next time."

"Sure," I said softly, as she gave me a gentle hug.

I stood there momentarily pondering what to do with the rest of my evening. I looked around to see if Emily might want to share a coffee. She must have left. Jakob walked up to me.

"I'd be willing to grab coffee if you need some company," he told me.

"Oh. Uh. Okay. Except, she likes coffee, I don't really ..."

"There's an ice cream place next to it," he said.

"Now you're talking."

Jakob and I sat down at Udder Delights. I had a root beer float; he had a strawberry sundae.

I had not been in this ice cream shop before. It looked like it had seen better days, but at the same time, its old-fashioned details gave it some character. It was clean even if it wasn't shiny. I thought the close-up pictures of ice cream made for cool wall decorations. The red chairs weren't overly comfortable, but they served their purpose. The tables looked like they were purchased a couple of decades ago, but even that offered a retro vibe.

"That was an interesting share this evening," Jakob said before shoveling a spoonful of whipped cream into his mouth.

"Oh, yeah. I hope I didn't offend anyone. I'm not sure why I phrased things like that, but the group is so accepting, I felt I could say what was on my mind. This whole AA thing has me doing a lot of thinking. I've become more open this month."

"Indeed. I've heard three of your shares ..."

"That's all I've done."

"... then I've collected the whole set. I like listening to you."

"Why is that?"

"Because you're real. Most everyone is at the meetings, but I see something in you. I can feel what you feel."

"Thanks. I mean, I guess. Is that a good thing?"

"To be honest?" he asked. "I think being able to look inside someone takes a leap of faith on both ends. I feel it's a good thing."

"I used to be so honest with Tr ... my best friend ... but we just can't see each other as much, particularly since I'm choosing mostly closed meetings."

"Is that the dude you are in love with?"

"Oh, you remember that."

"I can empathize. There have been lots of men I wanted to love me back, but it never happened. My best friend my senior year was so adorable. I just loved him. We fooled around. We kissed a lot, but it eventually stopped. When graduation was over, we were in love at first, but then we drifted. Soon he was gone. I had to figure out what to do, where to live ..."

"You were ... kicked out, if I remember."

"Yep. 17. I knew I was gay. I didn't want to lie, so I told my family. They said they wanted no part of it and gave me 24 hours to be out of the house. Haven't talked to them since."

"Ever?"

"No. Nothing. It's been nine years. I get it. They want to think of me as dead. So, in my mind, I don't have a family."

"What did you do after graduation?"

"It's a bit too ugly. I'd rather not freak you out on our first date." He laughed, surprised at his statement. "I didn't mean that. I just don't want you to think bad of me."

"We're a pretty nonjudgmental group," I said.

We were quiet for a minute or two as we focused on our desserts. I slurped the bottom of my float loudly through a straw. He was done with his sundae.

"So. You've done it with both men and women," Jakob boldly asked.

"Yeah. I'm not really ..."

"Is one better than the other?"

I remembered my first night ever with a girl.

 

Grace was willing to let me be her first. We were both college sophomores. We had been on a couple of dates. I felt awkward. Many of my friends had had sex with women and I had not. I had fooled around with a few guys, but no girls. I felt horribly inexperienced. We got close enough on those dates to where she admitted the same, not being with any men at all that is.

We agreed to take it slow and gentle; both of us were ready to rid ourselves of that virgin status. Her roommates were gone for the weekend, so I planned on sharing the night.

As we made our way to the bed, we started removing each other's clothes. I hadn't felt a woman's breasts before. She had never touched a dick.

"I like that," she said as I gently massaged a breast.

I kissed her. She pulled my briefs off, the last thing I had on. My cock jumped out. She held it in her hand.

"That's bigger than I was thinking it would be," she said, with a mix between intrigue and fear.

She turned out the light. We kissed for a couple of minutes.

"Are you ready?" I softly asked.

"I ... I think so."

I ripped open a condom package and slid it on. I had purchased some lube for me. She had something for herself. Gently I spread her legs and touched her crotch. In a soft way, I felt the opening slit to her vagina seeing where I was supposed to go. I poked her with my cock a couple of times before getting it right. It was embarrassing, but we smiled at each other as we figured things out. Eventually, I found the right spot and moved a little of my hard shaft inside her.

"Ungh," she called out.

I felt like I was hurting her.

"Are you okay?"

"Try again. Just slow."

As gently as I could push my cock into her pussy, I thrust lightly. Her face did not look happy. I didn't think she was enjoying it, but she placed her hands on my ass guiding me in and out. Oddly, as I moved my dick within her, I wondered if it would feel the same inside a guy's ass. What a crazy thing to think at a time like this.

Our arms fumbled wondering what to do. We were awkward and clumsy, but we both felt we were glad to no longer be virgins.

My hips thrust into her. I felt my balls swing and slam into her skin. Her face still didn't look that happy. I kissed her, trying to make it more pleasurable. The sensation of my cock being inside someone felt good. For a minute, I thought about Randall or Elijah being under me. It was crazy to think about them, but it made my dick throb to where I simply whispered "Oh yeah" in her ear. I filled the tip of the condom with my cum.

I pulled my cock out and told her I was finished. I wanted her to feel pleasure too, so I put my fingers back inside her vagina and worked them as far in as I could reach. She enjoyed it for a minute, then told me I could stop. She thanked me and said if felt good, but she was fine with that.

We had both checked the box, but I don't think either of us felt we were very good at sex.

 

I guess I got the hang of it. These past years have seen about a dozen pretty girls below me. It always felt good during sex. When it was over, I felt empty somehow. I figured it was because I wasn't it love with any of these girls. It seemed empty. I figured the right girl would come along. Stacy was the last. She was freaky crazy.

 

I usually wasn't too loud when fucking a girl. She would moan a little, and I would match that. I think a few would reach orgasm. One did before me. I watched one girl finger herself after I had come. That was kind of hot. She writhed and moaned. It was fun to watch. It made me wonder what I looked like when I came.

Stacy was different. We were screaming loud lunatics. I didn't find her that interesting on dates, but in bed, she was savage. She is the only girl I have fucked more than once.

"Your fucking cock is fucking amazing," she yelled. "Oooooo, fuck my pussy. Ooooooo." The frenzy of it all turned me on like crazy.

The second time we did it, she asked me to stop. She wanted something different. Stacy squeezed my cock between her breasts, which were big. She squeezed tight as I thrust my erection between them.

"Oh baby, fuck me. Oooooo. Your huge cock is making my pussy so wet."

I had actually lubed quite a bit in preparation.

She continued to moan.

"Lance. I need to feel your dick on my boobs. Bring your huge dick up here. Put them in my boobs."

I was both startled and confused. It felt good inside her, for both of us. I was actually getting close to coming. I had been thinking about Trent and what it might feel like if my cock was in his ass. I pulled my erection from her vagina and moved my body upward. My eight inches were placed between her breasts. She pressed them around me tight.

"Fuck my boobs, Lance. Fuck `em," she called out in racy sex talk. I dripped just a tad more lube to make it really easy to slide.

It felt different than being inside her vagina. Again, I wondered if it was what I would feel if I were inside a man. But what made me think that? This sex was hot, why would I think that? I could feel the stimulation building again. She groaned. I grunted loud. I sounded just like I did when Trent fucked me in the school shower. Trent. I'm fucking a girl. Why am I thinking about Trent? I kept shoving my cock up and down her chest, the slick friction with her breasts gratifying the stretched skin of my hard-on. I groaned louder than I had before.

Stacy was the only one I could really express sexual emotion with.

"I'm coming. I'm gonna come on you, girl." I growled like a bear.

As my long cock protruded from her breasts, it shot the ropes of cum up to her neck. She squealed.

"Don't stop," she commanded as she fingered her pussy. "Lance! Lance, keep going. Fuuuuucccck."

I kept fucking her chest as her body wriggled. She screamed as her orgasm rocked her body, and I kept fucking her boobs. All I could think of was "I wish it were Trent."

 

"Lance? You there?" Jakob brought me back.

"Oh, men versus women? Surely, that has to be up to each individual. It always feels good, I guess. The best ever was a night this spring. My best friend fucked my brains out. It was phenomenal sex."

"So, a bottom, huh?"

"Yeah." For a moment I got lost in thought. "I've tried twice to be the top with guys, but they ..."

"Couldn't take it?"

"Um. Yeah. It hurt." I paused. "I felt bad."

"You'll find the guys who can. Heaven knows I've taken huge schlongs like yours before."

"How do you know what mine is like?" I half-heartedly joked.

"Hellooo, I'm Lance. I have a huge dick," Jakob sarcastically mocked.

I rolled my eyes at the barbed impression. "You don't know how big."

"Trust me, I've had monster dicks in me and all sorts of objects. I know there are guys who can take it because I am one."

I looked at him a moment. My brow furrowed.

"Are you hitting on me?"

Jakob froze.

"Oooohh. No." A gaze of horrified realization overtook his visage. He looked like he had just run over a puppy. "I'm sorry, Lance. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. No. No, please! Don't ever think about me that way. I ... I can't."

Somehow the conversation had struck a tender nerve. There was a wound that had been instantly reopened. I felt a little sorry for him because he was clearly feeling bad about something. His fingers slightly twitched like he was nervous.

"I should go," he said. "But thank you for talking with me. I've never talked to another gay guy at a meeting. It's nice that you are there."

"Oh. Thanks. Sure." I sounded awkward. "It was nice getting to know you just a little better, Jakob."

He walked away with a small wave. As he headed down the street, I noticed his head hung just a little. Had I hurt him? Did he feel he had hurt me? I assumed he would be walking to the shelter where he was staying. I didn't know what to make of him. At times I felt like he wanted to open up, but I could tell he carried a lot with him. I knew Jakob had many scars. We hear about so many of them at the meetings. I felt sorry that he had to be in a shelter. Life had dealt him so many losing hands.

As I got on my bike, I reflected back on tonight's meeting. I always felt better after sharing. I was a dork tonight. Most people probably think I'm an ass. It was just what was on my mind. I was sure several of the members will cringe when I get up to talk next time, but I still liked sharing. I know I am too blunt. I have been my whole life, particularly the college years. Did I think a big dick gave you permission to say whatever you wanted? Surely not, how arrogant. But if so, it is just one more thing in which it let me down.

My mind wasn't even close to thinking about screwing Jakob. We were just friends from AA talking with each other. I needed friends I could talk to. One day, though. It would be nice to make love to a man the way I wanted.

As I locked my bike, I smiled to myself that admitting making love to a man was what I truly wanted. I ran from those emotions for so long.

Back inside the apartment, I called Trent. I told him I had gone to another meeting. I didn't tell him about Jakob, but said I was meeting more people. I was feeling like a part of a group. Trent seemed happy about that. He too, was meeting more people at work. He had developed a slight friendship with another coworker, also gay.

Hearing that news disappointed me. As we met other people, would Trent and I drift apart? Even if he can't be a boyfriend, I didn't want to lose him as a friend.

Fuck.

 

* * * *

I enjoy feedback. See insight and background to the story at the blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com People are able to post comments there.

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com