Author: Benjamin C. Roy Cory Garrett Rev History Rev .00 - 08/15/2002 Rev .01 - 03/10/2022 Author’s Note: One of many letters I should’ve sent.
Ben and Mikey Fuck…
KC,
I kinda feel like I fucked up. Again. I know the way we have defined things I shouldn’t be so hung up on guilt for having feeling for other people or even acting on them…but I do, and I did last night.
I don’t really know how to talk about this kind of stuff seriously so I will just write it like a joke I am telling you to try to turn you on:
Their fingers burned with one thousand splinters. Smashing every last piece of furniture in the place had left them both bleeding and breathing heavy. They stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Impermanence was coursing through them but it was not alone.
Cat attack!
The two men, whiskers and all, were sucking face and then some—like octopus tentacles wrapped around cucumbers. Awkward hands discovered each other’s continents, knowing exactly where dig for buried treasure and yet hesitant over nipples and cocks, hovering just close enough for magnetic fields to dance nuclear-fucking-bonds into each millisecond of physical contact.
“There is nothing stopping us.”
He whispered. Praying it was true.
And I rose to the challenge.
Pants were never quite successfully discarded, the only things left limp and hanging, around knees and ankles, while hairy legs tied knots into the fabric of time and the space between testicles and that little cleft between ass check and hamstring. A temporary hideout for bandits sucking and fucking everything that stood in their way.
Grabbing my dick and guiding it like a Shepherd into His holy embrace—I came. A fire hose, hopeless against a tide of protest.
We were both covered in semen and it was all mine.
Selfish and confused, I grabbed my trousers by the belt and ran for the stairs.