Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2017 08:32:40 +0200 From: E Ylaer Subject: The Joys and Sorrows of Narzissus Berg Chapter 3 ****** MANDATORY TEXT ****** This story is a work of fiction. It means that all events and characters are fictional, their resemblance to real life events and persons is pure coincidence. Author of this story supports the use of breath mints or chewing gums after drinking beer. Why not to drink wine, honestly? If you are old enough, of course. I write this to myself to fight office boredom, so it's not always about juicy details. (=understand: no juicy details this time.) The cited headlines are totally mindblowingly real, from the time I was writing this chapter. © 2017 by Eugen Ylaer ****** Chapter begins here ***** They Joys and Sorrows of Narzissus Berg Chapter 3. - In which I don't follow the Fairy. Smoke a bad tasting cigarette. And in which Kai wants to know why he got sucked into this. After sex I so feel like having a fag. I go to the office inner yard, straight to Hans, a pimpled face programmer and ask him for a cigarette. He is standing outside with the other smokers. "Didn't know you smokin'." He is so surprised that he does not give one. I just look at him, then he realizes and reaches his box towards me. I take one, and wait till he again realizes that I don't have a lighter and hands it to me. I inhale long. "I don't." I say and look with disgust at the cigarette in my hand. "I just need it sometimes after sex." This I add only in my head. Hans needs the cigarettes instead of sex. He gave me some very strong crap, it tastes horrible. The shot of nicotine makes me dizzy, and my fingers tremble. The people chatter away their usual smoker's chat, while I stand silently, only occasionally taking a drag. I look around if I can see where Kai spat my sperm earlier the day, but I can't find it. Good Mother Earth soaked it up. Which is bullshit since it's concrete all around us. Not much work done today. Maybe Kai will look down from his office window and I can show him the finger. Blow him a kiss. Blow him until he cries. When I finally return to my desk, I see somebody placed a ham sandwich there. But I need more than a thoughtful Kai-Frederik and a sandwich to melt my heart. If we suppose I have a heart, and that heart can `sing' `be melted' or `broken' or any such bullshit. Nut really. Later I walk to the subway, passing newspaper-automats. "Whom belongs the sperm of the dead? Widow claims rights" "How many tons of fish is fed to the polar bears in the zoo, yearly?" (27) "Ema (3) brutally tortured." Turns out Ema is a dog, a St Bernard, isn't this extra touching? (I hate dogs so doesn't touch me) "Do you earn less than the average citizen?" Let's feel bad. Smart headlines. Are we this much stupid? Oh, yes. I go down to the subway. Right on time to witness the Fairy's march. The Fairy is a tall lanky guy I sometimes see after work while i wait for subway. His face reminds me of a skull under the dim lights, deep wrinkles between his large nose and the corners of his mouth. Age nondescript. His back very straight, his face radiating confidence. He walks along the white safety line on the platform like a mannequin on the catwalk, confident energetic strides. He wears red headphones, marching to his own music, chin held high, look fixed on the imaginary horizon. He occasionally sniffs and wipes his nose off on his palm. Skintight jeans on his ridiculously slim legs, shiny white doc martens and red down jacket so short he must have gotten it at the children's department. Flashing a strip of winter-white stomach. His magnetic ID card dangles from his pocket. I see the logo of a telco company that has an office tower nearby. I stare after him, want to check his ass, just look, look, the guy has almost no butt, nothing to check out. I'm transfixed. Disgusted and amazed by him. I feel tempted to put out my leg and see him trip. I feel tempted to follow him, but I chicken out every time, because I imagine he is a maniac killer. I tried to get his attention, but he sees no one. His eyes are fixed on the far horizon - the escalator at the end of the platform, where he is aimed, to go up and disappear. When he is gone, I again regret i did not follow him, still I don't move. *** Bet you wanna know how Kai got into this. How he... got sucked into it. Or how I sucked myself into this with Kai. And why. I firmly believe that I can stop any time, when I want. As for why... he also wanted to know. One January evening pretty late, I seek around on my favourite porn sites totally bored, digging my nose, when someone violently pushes the buzzer. I did not order home delivery. Maybe Sophie forgot her keys? Or the youth is having fun after taking courage from beer 40cent/can? "Who is it?" I ask, in very grumpy voice. Silence. "I'll go down and kick your ass!" I shout. Silence. Then the buzzer again. "Now it's enough!" I say. Not that I'd really go down at this hour and in this cold. "It's Meier." I hear. My turn to be silent. "How do you know my address?" "Just let me in." He sounds desperate. Hysteric. Most probably drunk. "Do I have a choice? Fifth floor." Damn. Damn. What the stink is he doing here? My boss! Okay, I gave him head once in December. After that boring company Christmas. We were tipsy. He did not even take his coat off, so I don't think it counts. And we both pretend it did not happen, just as I expected from him. It's convenient for us both. If he wants more, this is really not the time... I totally did not expect anyone to visit, floor scattered with laundry, my bicycle half dismantled in the middle of the room. I kick the clothes aside, shut my laptop, and run for the bathroom, to put in my contacts. My hair's a mess. Maybe I should not let him in. I splash cold water on my face, rinse with Listerine, and put on jeans and a tight t-shirt instead of the stretched faded one. When I open the door, I know I shouldn't have bothered. He is drunk as a duck. Face red, glasses foggy... not a pretty sight at all. As he steps into the hall and I close the door, he turns to me, "So what do you want?!" I step back. This should be my line. Plus he smells on beer. I hate beer breath. "What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?" "I employed you, don't you remember?" Angry scruffs. "So what do you want from me?" He looks pretty scary now. "I don't get it. You turn up here, uninvited, drunk..." "Cut the shit. You want money?" I do it for free I wanna say... when I get it! Oh. Oh! He thinks... that I want to blackmail him??? It took him almost a month to figure this. Or he is the type who drinks himself paranoid?! I can't help, I laugh. Maybe I shouldn't, he looks pretty angry, that makes me laugh even more. Then I imagine him punching me in the face, and back away to my room. "We should talk in here. And take off your shoes." He collapses onto my couch. Pulls himself together, wipes his mouth with his hand. He is over it, not going to punch me, nor strangle me. I can't help but enjoy this little situation here. He is after all my boss. We sit in silence. He is wearing grey socks with thin stripes. A fine man, with some inner strength that I will never master. He sighs again. "I made a mistake, Berg. I admit this. And will face the consequences. Let's do this as clean as possible. You tell me what you want." He handles the situation the way one sees in US movies. Tell me what you want. Let's hear your conditions. I should bullshit him just for fun, but suddenly not in the mood. I sit closer to him, so that our legs touch. "It took you 3 weeks to figure this, and got to the conclusion that I plan to blackmail you? Well... no wait. I am a bad person. I can't keep my mouth shut. Deliberately annoy people, make fun of them. I don't feel sympathy towards anyone. And I'm gay. But what the heck fun would I find in blackmailing you? It's horribly banal." He thinks it over, looking at the carpet. I wait. The carpet is dirty, I vacuumed last time in November. Not a Hero of Housework. I stroke the hairs of the carpet with my big toe. His leg against mine, he did not pull away. "Then... why did you do it?" He asks. "Do what? I didn't blackmail you." "Eh...I meant the... oral... sex? Why did you..." His vocabulary, Mensch! But why I really did it? I look into his eyes, make an impressive pause. "I'm into you." I admit fake-shy. The corners of my mouth tremble, as I suppress my laughter. I reach out and stroke his knee suggestively. His face reflects total shock, which then melts into self-satisfaction, badly concealed. You should see his face. I burst out laughing. "I just bullshit you. I... have this thing for older men who wear glasses. Father complex they say." "Haha! You won't fool me with this." And he brushes my hand away from his knee, but he is laughing. "So why?" "Out of pure boredom I guess? I was bored. Nothing is as boring as a hetero company christmas. You were there... you were willing... I like to do it..." "You didn't record it with your phone?" "Hell, no!" He thought this! The paranoid old guy. That would make the most ridiculous amateur office porn. Boss wearing winter coat, holding on to table, sexy blond guy kneeling in front of him... (that's me). "No, I did not record it, what do you think! So we discussed this now. No blackmail, I don't want anything...." am I explaining myself? Me? Wait a second! I look at him, he looks at me. "Maybe you should explain something too. Do you often get blown by men? Kai-Straight-Frederik Meier, doctor, happily married two and a half kids..." His jaw clenches. "I hate closet-gays you know. They lie constantly and get rewarded for it from the society, while they get the best from all, marriage, kids, blowjobs. While if I wanna marry, or have kids... or for instance have a quick blowjob in the office, I'm suspected for blackmail... well fuck you..." "Never done it before." Wha? "With a man." Ah sure bullshit my aunt not me. I look at him in disbelief. "It was a mistake!" He adds. "Was it?" Ha. Ha! "Didn't you enjoy it a bit too much to call it an accident? Your pants fell down pretty smooth I'd say. Just admit it was the best blowjob you ever had." I can't help to look at his crotch suggestively. He is sitting in silence. Accident! Accident is when you are cycling home drunk and fall face-forward into a flower bed and break your collarbone. Pretty painful. I know this from own experience. "Can I use the bathroom?" He asks and gets up. "Sure. To the right." When he storms out he meets Sophie who just came home and stands in the hall still wearing hat and coat. "Hi." she says. Kai shakes her hand, looks at me, looks at Sophie, mumbles something, then heads to the bathroom. "What's your dad doing here? Is everything okay? Why didn't you say he'd visit?!" She asks. "He is NOT my dad!" I whisper back. "Then what's this old guy doing... no way! No way! I can't believe you!" "Don't fuckin' shout! It's not what you think! It's much worse. He is my boss!" "Your boss?!!" Nah, finally she whispers too. "Well... he looks total straight. But I thought you picked up..." "Nothing of that short! He is leaving anyways." "What was he doing here??" "Don't ask... he just dropped by to make sure I don't plan to blackmail him." "Oh Berg, I hope you didn't... I'm too tired right now for drama." (Who said I want to tell you anyways?) She walks to her room shutting the door. I wonder if she also thinks I'm a criminal. When Kai returns, he looks much better, I guess washed face. "Who is...?" "Sophie? We share this flat." "I really should be leaving!" He says. "Can I get you a coffee? I mean before you leave. You seem to be in a great need of it." (Or in a great need of a blowjob?! Can also be discussed.) "Just a glass of still water and magnesium if you have." This guy is hopeless, I tell you. When I get back he is staring at the poster in the hall, made in the way to mimic the style of Neue Sachlichkeit (new objectivity, german). A beautiful naked man behind a glass door, his hand tenderly placed on the surface of the glass, his eyes cast downwards, his perfect manhood innocently rests on his leg. "You painted this?" "During my studies. Was a poster for a community art fair." "And the model?" "A self-portrait." "Ah. Didn't recognize. Because of the long hair." He does not say anything else. Takes the water and gulps it down. Then takes the magnesium pills from my palm. "More water?" He nods. When I come back he is still looking at the poster. Takes the pills. He puts on his shoes, his coat. Time to say goodbye. I unlock the door, it's dark in the corridor. "Also dann..." (=so then, german) "Bis dann. (=see you) Light on the left." I add. He does not turn it on, just stands outside the door, looking at his shoes. I hold my breath, waiting. Then he makes up his mind and goes for the elevator, so I close the door. Damn. Stupid old man. I was sure he'd stay. At least my dick had hopes. Then I hear him knock. This was fast! "Already back?" "Left my scarf..." but when I turn around to look for it, he reaches forward, pulls me to himself pretty aggressively and pushes his tongue into my mouth, licking it hungrily. Now let me stop here for a moment, to add an important note for all you beer lovers. Beer breath is horrible. You just don't feel it because you are drunk when you have it. Brothers and sisters of the beer, please kiss with your own kind, not with the fellas who did not enjoy beer and are disgusted by your beer breath. Or at least try to do something about it. Though... nothing helps. He releases me. We are both panting, he from the kiss, me because I was holding my breath during it. "Berg, I just wanted to say, that you were right." "About what?" "That, ehm... blowjob. Was exceptional." "That mistake, you mean. You are welcome. By the way, your breath stinks." He steps back, holds his hand over his mouth. I must laugh. Of course he stayed the night. It was also a mistake. He did not speak of his family. They went skiing as I was told. I did not speak of my family, or about my affairs. I did not let him to kiss me again. He did not even let me touch his supposedly virgin ass. Well I'm more a bottom anyways. At least I made him suck my dick. First he did not want, but I persuaded him by saying that I let him fuck me, blew him, so it would be just decent to reciprocate that by sucking my dick, nicely. So he did, the correct soul. And I was pretty satisfied with it. Not with his technique, that could improve... I got off on watching him, my boss, making all efforts to reciprocate the joy I gave him earlier.... Because I think I almost made him cry when I sucked him off. The moon was shining onto the bed. Chest heaving, he repeated several times that it was amazing, unbelievable, while he held his fingers to his eyes. If one can appreciate these moments of absolute power, it's me. And that look on his face, after I shot into his not very willing mouth... priceless! Maybe that was the moment when it dawned on him, there's no way back to Heteroland. Then he turned away, and spat my cum into a tissue, went to the bathroom to shower, or to scrape away my smell from him, then dressed up and went home. I can't stand anyways when someone snores in my bed. He kept away afterwards for some time. Actually he might have for ever. Asked him why. He did not want an affair. Nor did I. With him?? Are you kidding? But how he told it, this hypocrisy, really pissed me off. Other colleagues fuck their assistant, is it even a tiny bit better? At least I can't get pregnant. I'm not an assistant. And will never ask him to leave his wife and marry me to make me a decent girl. (Sorry girls, really. You are better than me, since you do this out of love. I guess.) I don't want kindness, nor gifts. Just some thrill. He disagreed, accused me for being shallow, disrespectful towards life's real values, and other horribly boring things. I left the room while he was speaking. I don't have to be there as audience when he is fighting with himself. He wants to be a good man, I can't help in that. Good men don't have secret affairs. Especially not homosexual affairs. Still I like much better when he bores me with compliments about my beautiful dick, perfect ass, or when he is surprised that gay men can repair their bicycle, big thing. Yes I can, can't you? Loser. *** end of chapter *** P.S. I donated to Nifty, and it didn't hurt at all. Try it!