Thanks for reading the story. It's my first attempt and I'm not entirely sure where the story will go, or how the format will change. All too many times, Love is presented as something slightly tainted, or slightly complicated. This story is going to complicate Love, so bear with me, and we'll see where it goes together. Please feel free to send me some feedback NoniMouse440@hotmail.com , and let me know what you think of how it's going. This work is MY creative property, so no one had better copy it. Go get your own! If you're not allowed to view this kind of material in your state, I think that you should try to change the legislation. Thanks much-
NM
Kiss of Life: Chapter One
He sat in the dimness of the movie theater actively trying to tune out the couple in the back row as they engaged in some heavy petting. Their smacking and slurping and soft groans became louder and louder, all the while Mike tried to keep his eyes focused on the screen, his ears tuned in to the movie, and his temper in check. It was bad enough that they were the only people in the theater, and it was even worse that he was there alone; but to be assaulted by retro-hetero-romance took the cake. NO ONE went to a movie theater to make out anymore... or at least so he thought. It didn't matter anyway. Mike sighed. None of it seemed to matter, and with that, his anger deflated. He shrank down into his seat and pulled his jacket up over the back of his head. He'd ignore it- live and let live, he muttered to himself. Tears stung the corners of his eyes- he wanted to get up, to whip around on them with fury and scream at the top of his lungs "IT'S NOT FAIR!" But that would be very unbecoming.
He heard the guy grunt, and then begin to pant- soft, pleading sounds uttered from the back of his throat. Mike could picture it in his mind: the boyfriend urging his girl to jerk a little faster, grip it a little harder, flick her tongue in his ear a little more. The boyfriend, grasping the arms of the chair, head thrown back in ecstasy, imagining himself pounding into his woman over and over again as the feelings shot from his cock up thru his spine and back down again. The boyfriend's hips, bucking up and down, and his balls contracted with his constricted sack, and finally, sweet, sweet tingling, wet, sticky release.
Mike shook his head, realizing that his own cock was rock hard and throbbing uncomfortably in his jeans. He moved a hand down to trace the outline of his turgid prick- caressing it lightly, and shivering as the sensations raced up its 7" long length, and down through his balls into his toes. And for a second, he almost forgot. For one minute, he as blissfully entranced by the almost-tickle of his cock surging pre-cum into his already soaking briefs. And then he heard the girlfriend gasp and groan with her own orgasm, and that brought him back to reality.
He sat up, took off his coat, and got up, placing it carefully in front of his crotch. He didn't look at either the guy or the girl on his way out, but he clearly heard their conversation.
"Did you see him jerking his dick, Tom? He was totally perv-ing on us!!"
"Yeah baby- maybe he wants to lick my cum off your hand, eh? What do you think? You should offer him some."
"Tom! You're SO gross!" she cried, laughing, "Hey mister! Hey mister! Do you have a napkin by any chance?"
Mike kept walking, not looking back to acknowledge what he'd heard. It already hurt- the being alone. Being ridiculed was not something he wanted to empower these strangers with.
Back at home in his apartment, Mike stretched his 6'1" frame, and when he came back down, gave his 190 lbs a good shake. As he walked over to the fridge, he threw off his shirt, and rubbed his stomach, appreciating how flat it was. At 30, he knew a lot of guys who'd kill to have a body that looked even nearly as good as his. But at 30, he'd kill to be almost just about anyone else...
Mike shook his head; better to not think about things which one cannot change. But then the simmering rage which always lay inside him bubbled over for a second, and he lashed out and slammed his fist into the refrigerator door. Looking down at his bleeding knuckles, he began to sob, and sank down to the floor, unaware of everything, even his frightened pooch, Jeff. He Doberman stood in the doorway, head cocked to one side, ears standing straight up, and whining softly. Jeff licked his chops, lifted one paw, and started to walk into the kitchen, but then paused, uncertain. Mike's shoulders shook as his sobs got stronger, and Jeff padded over to him, finally certain. He licked the back of Mike's neck, and then sat down next to him. When Mike reached out with an arm, and wrapped it around Jeff, the dog began to lick the tears from his face. Mike sighed as the dog's warm tongue washed away his tears and cooled his outburst. He'd always known the dog was special- but it was almost uncanny the way the pooch seemed to make him feel better.
He sighed, and then slowly stood. He was so tired of breaking down, and lately it seemed to be happening more and more. Mike looked at the dog, and Jeff looked back up at Mike. He smiled down at the dog, and then reached for the box of doggie treats on top of the fridge. Jeff's tongue exploded out of his mouth, and he leapt up to his hind legs. He barked twice, and then when the treat dropped to the floor, snagged it in his mouth, gave Mike one final look, and then trotted off to the living room to consume his snack. Mike looked at the wagging behind traipsing out of the kitchen, and chuckled to himself. Jeff had been the best present he had ever bought for himself... and the only thing keeping him alive at that point.
Subdued, Mike opened the fridge and stared at the empty shelves and lone box of baking soda that inhabited his fridge. He closed the door, and stumbled to the phone, knowing that whatever WAS in the freezer wasn't in danger of getting up and walking out in the middle of the night. Thank goodness frozen food stays frozen. But if the power went out... he shuddered, and kept walking to the phone.
He dialed the number for the nearest pizza place, and waited for someone on the other end to pick up.
"Sal's Slices, this is Joe. Is this a pick up or delivery?"
"Hi Joe. It's a delivery."
"Mr. Dana, how are you? Your usual?" Mike stuttered.
"Ho.. how... how did you know it was me?" Joe laughed.
"Your number pops up on our screen here, Mr. Dana. That and I recognized your voice." Mike blushed. So he DID call there a little often... it wasn't exactly a crime...
"Uhm... yeah...Joe, thanks. I'll take... my usual..." And he had a "usual?"
"Ok Mr. Dana- should be about 30 minutes. Oh! Mr. Dana- we also have a new driver this evening- his name is Chris. Just wanted to give you a head's up in case you were wondering why it wasn't Sam." And now they were UPDATING him on their personnel affairs?? Mike blushed again and realized he needed to learn how to cook- and fast.
"Uhm.. thanks... Joe... for the head's up. That was... very considerate... of you..." Gosh he sounded like a dork. He had been in a few times, and could just imagine Joe standing there, slightly sweaty, black hair cut short, blue eyes sparkling... 6'3" frame leaning against the counter with one hand resting on the wall, jotting down the order. Mike shook himself back into reality, and gently thumbed his rigid boner in his jeans. "Thanks so much Joe. I'll be here waiting." And then he hung up. Still standing there, his left hand lightly grazing his solid cock, his right hand trailed up to his left nipple, and he began to lightly circle it. As it grew harder, his touch became rougher. A direct line of tickling electricity between his cock and his nipples kept his body shuddering, and his breath coming in gasps. He heard a bark, and shock himself. His already soaked underwear now felt cold with rapidly cooling pre-cum. He was so close to cumming. He'd make sure that before he went to bed, he'd have a climax that curled even his hair.
What in the hell was Jeff barking about?? Mike gingerly adjusted his deflating and still sensitive crotch, and moved towards the living room. He had just stepped thru the entryway when a large brick came hurtling in through the glass, and slammed into his right shoulder. He groaned, and staggered back, as Jeff began to howl, dancing about, snarling and barking enough to call attention to the apartment. Holding his bleeding shoulder, Mike staggered over to the broken window, not conscious of the glass crunching under his sneakers. He looked out and saw a black car speeding off. The shouts and whoops coming from the car bounced off the walls of the lot and back up to his window. Mike growled, and ran to the phone, clutching his right shoulder. He punched in 911, and waited.
"911 what's the nature of your emergency?"
"I've just been attacked in my home. Someone threw a brick through my window, and it struck me. I'm bleeding, but I'm ok."
"Sir where are you?"
"I'm at 99 EverGlade terrace, apartment 2B. My name is Michael Dana."
"Ok Mr. Dana we're sending out a police unit and an ambulance to your location. Are the assailants still nearby?"
"No. They've left in a black 1986 Chevy Camero."
"Did you get the license plate number, Mr. Dana?"
"Yes ma'am." Mike told her the license plate number, and then felt dizzy.
"Ma'am... I'm not fee...ling...so...." He fainted dead away on the floor, the phone a few inches away from his head. The pool of blood on the floor began to spread rapidly, and Jeff continued to howl and bark away into the night.