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Meeting No. 8 August 1

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

"Hi Lance," the group replied.

"I work at a gym. I should clarify that I don't work out at a gym. Since I broke my wrist, I'm limited to what I can do, but at least I have the cast off, and I'm wearing this thingy."

I held up the brace on my wrist.

"Once my shift is over, I'm trying to make sure I'm walking and doing some exercises I can do one handed. Following that, I weigh in. It's probably a pound or two more than if I weighed in the morning, but I don't own scales at home. I've tried to keep track regularly at the same time. Yesterday my weight was 12 pounds less since I stopped drinking. It's been five weeks, so I feel pretty good about that. I'm sure it will all slow down about now, but ... I'm not often proud of myself, but I feel it today."

A few people smiled back at me.

"I'm also not a person who always expresses gratitude. I have people to thank who helped me this past month. My roommate has steered me toward eating healthy. Well, healthi-ER. I'm not a freak about it or anything. But that support goes a long way. So does yours. Having people here listen to you makes you feel better. I don't know if I would have had the willpower to do it a couple of months ago. Because of you people, I do. Not slugging down four or five beers a day is a savings on calories too.

"It's funny. A month and a half ago, I didn't think I had a problem. Well, it's not funny. It's sad. It's sad that I didn't see how I was reaching for a drink to fill in a void — or perhaps voids — in my life. I let it get bad. Sometimes I scare myself that I could let it happen again. Maybe shedding those pounds will be extra motivation.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

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

"Hi Cooper," the group replied.

"My divorce was final today. It went pretty smoothly, I guess. She wasn't mad. She just wanted away from me. We were married for 13 years. We have a wonderful 11-year-old son. He doesn't understand everything yet. We haven't told him I'm gay. I'm not sure how to do that. We've made sure he knows that the problem was between his father and his mother, not him. There's that, I guess. I feel so sorry for him. I mean, lots of kids have to suffer through a divorce. It's awful for everyone. Finding out your dad is a completely different person than you thought he was is certainly an extra layer of emotional garbage he has to deal with though."

Cooper stopped. He wanted to continue, but his lower lip quivered. He slightly whimpered as his eyes teared.

"I – I've moved in with Mitchell. For now. I didn't really have any place to go. We had been seeing each other on the side for a few months. He's a coworker. We fell for each other pretty fast. At first, I told him I was married and that I shouldn't — and couldn't — do that. Soon, it just hit me that I was living a lie. My drinking got worse. Mitch stayed with me. I don't know why. I had so much baggage. And then I couldn't make it through the day without a drink. Or three."

Cooper was gorgeous. A blonde knockout. Unlike me, I wasn't seeing any extra weight put on. Of course, that didn't make his pain any less.

"When my wife asked me to live elsewhere, that's when I knew I was at the bottom. Well, actually, that isn't true. I knew there was one step lower. I knew if Mitch told me he was done with me too, that was a well I could never crawl out of. I would have felt lost. And alone. So. Here I am. Six weeks without a drink. I'm probably pretty lost as I begin ... my new life, but Mitchell is helping.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

As I helped put away chairs, I walked by one of the prints on the wall. It was behind glass, so it reflected some glare. I could see myself in the reflection for a second. The shirt I had on flattered my stomach. I remembered what I looked like the night of my car crash.

 

I was alone. I'd been home from work for two hours, and I just popped open my third beer. Evan was arriving over the weekend. He was about to move in. It was my last night alone. Trent was gone. He moved out. He left me. He didn't want me. He wanted Mike. Tall, gorgeous, hairy Mike.

But I needed to celebrate my last night of solitude. I didn't need anyone else. I had the place all to myself. I could run around naked if I wanted. So, I did. I took off all my clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was fat. It was Trent's fault. No, it wasn't. He just didn't want me. Who would want anyone this fat?

My cock looked good though. It's huge. Why didn't Trent want my monster? I stroked it to get it hard. I danced around the apartment naked. My erection bounced around like a sapling in a hurricane. It made me laugh. I pulled on it for a while. That felt good.

I got up and went into Trent's room. Evan's furniture was there, but there wasn't the slightest hint, the slightest molecule, to indicate that Trent was ever there. It seemed lonely. I was lonely. I went to the kitchen for a beer.

I flopped back down on the couch again, swallowing a big gulp.

As I held onto the beer, I looked at my cock again. It wasn't hard anymore. It looked big though. Too big for a guy to take it in the ass. Damn it. Fuck. But ... no. Fuck that; my dick is awesome. I took another gulp.

My other hand grabbed my rod and started yanking on it. My dick felt good. It was rock hard again.

"You're fucking missing this gorgeous hunk of meat, Trent!" I screamed at the walls. "It's the most cock you would ever get!"

I took another big gulp.

I thought of the two guys I tried to fuck who couldn't take the size of my cock.

"Damn them!"

I stroked myself harder.

I remembered the night in my college apartment that Trent and I had wild sex. It was a one-time thing. Trent was very clear about that. God, it was hot. He is so hot. I love his dick. It was inside me. Oh fuck, it felt good. Fuck him for only fucking me with his fucking awesome cock that night. Why didn't he want more? Fuck him.

I stood up. I could see the reflection of my erection sticking out on the television screen. Man, it looked great. I wish I saw Trent's reflection behind me, ramming me with his hard-on. He felt so good inside me. I loved that. My hand grabbed my cock again, and I watched my reflection — jerking my stiff beast.

Trent had fucked me twice. It was the best times I had ever had sex. I loved it. I closed my eyes and imagined him inside me. My grip got tighter, and my masturbation worked with greater gusto. The nerves in my tight erection seemed electronic. My grip rubbed and pulled and stroked. My dick throbbed and pulsed and gratified. It was if the stimulation was causing vibrations under the skin. I groaned at the extraordinary sensations. I groaned louder. I wondered if my neighbors could hear. Who cares? Fuck them.

"Oh, holy fuck. This feels so good. You could have had this, Trent!" I yelled at the walls. Again.

My cock felt 200 degrees. It was a hot throbbing pole like a glass blower would use. I knew I was close to coming. I remembered when we fucked. I remembered him coming inside me. He told me I was his first. My eyes closed, and I pictured his naked body.

"Come in me," I whispered this time.

My cock exploded. My groin was stimulated to where the orgasm was intense.

"Ohhhh, fuck!" I screamed again. "Yeah, fuck."

I opened my eyes and caught my breath. The coffee table had streams of my cum splattered across it.

I saw my reflection in the television again. This time I didn't look at my penis; I looked at my belly. My pudgy overweight belly.

I needed out of this lonely apartment. I slammed the rest of the beer.

Going back into the bedroom, I dressed in record time, barely even getting my clothes on fully. I stumbled once. I slipped into flip flops and grabbed the keys. I locked the door and hopped in the car.

Where to go? Where to go? Anywhere. Away. Away from the lonely apartment. The country sounded good.

It didn't take long to be away from city lights. I wasn't sure where I was. The roads were darker out here. Another car came up behind me. His headlights were in my rearview mirror.

Wait. Was I supposed to turn?

 

—

 

I woke up two hours later. The doctor had to tell me where I was twice. Everything was fuzzy, but I started to understand where I was. He said he needed to do a couple more tests, but family and friends were on their way.

How?

The doctor said my tests were good, but the x-rays were not. My arm was killing me. My wrist was in agony. He said he would give me something for the pain soon.

Thirty minutes later I had a small cast on my wrist. They put me in a wheelchair and rolled me out to the waiting area. It was late. Hardly anyone was there. I saw Trent and Dad and felt like the biggest fuckup that ever lived. What a loser I was. Dad's face ... pity, sympathy. I was so ashamed. I couldn't even look at them.

Trent's eyes were so watery. I hated myself. I was such a loser. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't look at either of them. I couldn't look at them for the rest of the night. I couldn't look at them the rest of my life. I was so fucked up. I still had a buzz, but I know I had screwed up too much. I was gone.

When we got back to the apartment, I carefully sat down on the couch. It was tricky with my arm in a sling. I looked down and saw my cum dried on the coffee table. I leaned to pick up some magazines and stack them over it. When I leaned back, I stared at the two of them. Over my belly.

 

"Congratulations on the weight loss," Jakob said.

"Thanks, Jakob. Ophelia's not here this evening. Up for a milkshake?"

"Actually, I haven't had dinner. I'll have a cheeseburger; you have a milkshake."

Udder Delights didn't have a huge menu, but there was a grill which made burgers and fries an option. After bragging about my weight loss, I would have felt guilty about pigging out on something. I had a frozen raspberry yogurt in a bowl.

Jakob went up to the counter when they called his number. When he returned, he put mustard on his burger and drew lines of ketchup on his fries. I found that curious as I always had made a puddle in which to dip them.

"I didn't know if you'd join me," he said.

"Why?"

"Why!?" he said in surprise. "I kissed you the other night. I figured I would scare you off. I hadn't planned to. It was just rather impulsive. I'm sorry."

I wasn't sure what I wanted my response to be. Our eyes locked.

"Don't be. I enjoyed it."

His mouth was full, but it worked into a smile.

"Tell me about work," I said.

"Got my first paycheck yesterday! Woo hoo. Lance, I haven't had a paycheck in ... I don't know how long. Like over two months. I mean, it's nothing compared to what you make ..."

"I'm an assistant manager. It's not that much."

"I'm sure it is more than working at a QT. But you know? I like it there. Everyone is nice, they don't judge me, and I like working hard. My life has been so insane, I haven't really had a lot of job opportunities in the past."

"How on earth have you survived for nine years?" I asked.

"Survived is right. When my family kicked me out, I lived with my best friend the rest of my senior year. His family was great, really supportive. I guess he was a first boyfriend, but we weren't serious. For too long anyway. I loved him though. We came out to each other at the beginning of that year. We were close. We could tell each other anything."

"Trent and I are like that."

"I couldn't believe they just welcomed me into their home. I mean, I'm sure they didn't want to see their son's best friend kicked out on the street, but ... that was a lot to ask."

"How was it living there?"

"Heaven. I was kind to them. I cleaned up, pitched in with chores, helped in the yard. I was a good kid. To be honest, they would tell me I was like a second son."

"Wow. That's nice. Kind people."

"They were," he continued. "But eventually graduation came. Then things turned upside down."

"What was your boyfriend's name?"

"Anson. But, yeah, I guess you could call him my boyfriend. We kissed a lot, jacked off together. There was a little sucking going on — nothing too outrageous. But that was for a couple of months. After that, the romantic part sort of trailed off. We became like brothers. We held each other in bed, but the romance thing changed."

"And after graduation?"

"They moved! His parents agreed to let him finish high school there, and then they moved to Wyoming late in the summer. He went to college in ... a Dakota, I can't remember if it was North or South. Not sure."

"Wow."

"They were heartbroken for me. They knew me picking up and coming along was wrong. I was 18 by that time and needed to start my own life. They were kind folks. They worked for the city. They didn't have a lot of money, but they gave me an envelope of several hundred dollars to help me get started."

"How nice!"

"I know, right?" Jakob began talking with a fork. "I got simple work. A busboy in a restaurant. I wasn't really making enough for my own place. I was praying to find a roommate quickly. A server at the restaurant helped me find someone. Dishwasher actually. He was gay."

"I guess that made it easier," I said.

"You would think, but no. My drinking started there. He was in his 20s and gave me beer all the time."

"Oh, fuck. That doesn't sound good."

"It wasn't. And I learned more about drinking. He bought whiskey and made frozen margaritas. I learned to like those at the restaurant. Other friends would stop by. More drinking."

"Doesn't sound ideal."

"That's been my life for years, Lance. Jobs were very minimum wage. I bounced from apartment to apartment for years. I guess I got a reputation for being a houseboy. I was expected to clean the place all the time in exchange for the cheap rent. And occasionally I didn't have to sleep on a futon because someone would want company in bed. And I drank. But that's how I survived. Sex and alcohol — just for a place to live."

"My God, Jakob! I ... I don't know what to say!"

"Finally, this year, I just said I couldn't do that anymore. So, I was out on the street. I was so addicted by that point that the little money I had went toward drinking. I had a box of clothes I threw in the car and a blanket. I lived in my car and a park for about two weeks. I hated sleeping on a bench. I hated it. I just wanted a bed."

I could feel tears pouring down my cheeks. I hadn't even realized I had been crying.

"Eventually, I moved into the shelter just to sleep on a bed. It's a simple bed, but it's not a bench."

I grabbed a napkin to blot my eyes. I couldn't stop crying.

"That's all so unfair. No one should have to go through that," I offered.

"This paycheck feels really good. You can see why," he said.

"I have no clue what to say. Holy shit."

"I'm trying not to look too far ahead. I don't necessarily see a way out, but as long as I have a bed and I'm making money, I feel better. I'm moving away from what my life was. Want to know the great thing?? I cashed the check and buying alcohol never crossed my mind."

"Awesome. THAT'S progress."

"Yes, it is," he said, wiping his lips and placing his napkin on his plate.

With his hand free, I reached over and held it.

"That took courage to tell me all that. Thank you for trusting me."

"Ha. If the kiss didn't freak you out, I'm sure that story will send you running." He pulled his hand back. "But thanks for listening, Lance. You're a good listener."

I stared at Jakob. I just thought of him as a friend. He would never be a man I would pursue, romantically that is. He's not athletic; his looks are just average. Considering my family's college background, his education level is nowhere near that of my family. But I found myself drawn to his simplicity. His boy-next-door quality had its charm, compared to some chiseled god from a GQ magazine. Or Trent.

"I suppose I should began my walk back. It's not far, but it's almost dark."

"Okay, I'll walk with you."

If I walked back to the center where my bike was parked, it would have been just over a block, but I wanted to walk the whole way with Jakob. When we got to the shelter, it broke my heart to know he had to sleep there. Every night. It was so unfair. But at least he wasn't on a park bench.

"I will see you Wednesday if you are there," Jakob said to me, as we arrived at the shelter.

"I will be." I looked into his eyes. "Until then ..."

I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to me. I kissed him firmly, my lips pressing as sensually on his as I could. It was a very long kiss. As he pulled back, he looked into my eyes in surprise. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. I noticed he lowered his head and placed his ear to my chest.

"I know you have a big heart. I can now hear it."

We kissed again, and I started walking back to get my bike.

I had just admitted to myself that he wasn't someone I would ever be interested in romantically. So what was up with the kiss?

What was it like for him each night? I couldn't even picture what it would be like to sleep in the shelter. Was it noisy? Did people near him snore? What did he wear to bed? Was the bed soft? Where did he put his things? What things? How much did he own? I couldn't come up with any answers to my questions. As drawn to him as I was feeling, it could never work. We weren't a good fit. I felt confused and helpless and ...

... was glad I kissed him.

 

* * * *

Be sure to check out the blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com. There is a little background to Lance's flashback discussed there.

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com