Love On My Mind by Ike
I eagerly fled back to New York City in September, 1975 from my Midwestern hometown. I was twenty-one years old, a college senior, and my birthday that past winter had given me control of an inheritance from Grandmother.
I'd be staying in New York until Christmas. My socially connected parents had taken my coming out as gay extremely poorly. Their concern about "what others would think" allowed me to negotiate an agreement where I would show up for short visits on major holidays to avoid "having to tell" relatives. They feared I'd "infect" my kid brother with "faggotry". I didn`t storm out of the house in early July to avoid upsetting and confusing my twelve year old brother, who'd eagerly anticipated spending all summer with me. My parents had to reluctantly agree. However, I wasn't welcome for another long stay. Now I was alone in the world until I found my "Dream-Man".
I'd never met my Dream-Man, but I Knew he was out there. I was thirteen when I had my first wet dream about a "Dream-Man" with curly red hair and mustache. He was very kind and masculine. In my dreams, we knew each other as soon as we met. I'd been having variations on this dream for over seven years as I returned to New York, where I had hunted for him on streets and in every gay bar, but never saw him.
As a teenager, I'd totally repressed my sexuality, acting the "perfect Christian Teen". I didn't drink, smoke, or even date girls, but I "spent" every night with my Dream-Man.
I turned "Teen Rebel" my freshman year in college: smoking, drinking, and sex with a lot of girls. That spring, I was easily seduced by a football player, who suggested that I save my anal virginity for a man I loved. Thus began my period of sexual confusion, which ended when I accepted that I was gay, four months before I came out.
ANOTHER secret had me convinced that I was crazy. The last two years that I was still fucking both men and women, I believed that I could read the minds of my partners while we were having sex. I knew what act they wanted next as we were making love, then moved to it without a word, surprising them. Women thought I was the most sensitive lover they'd ever met. Men wondered why the best lay they'd ever had wouldn't let them have my ass-cherry, because otherwise, I was very versatile.
Just after accepting myself as gay, I was seriously considering signing myself into Bellevue's psycho ward until I got picked up by Bruno, an ex-Marine. Alone with the hyper-masculine, skilled seducer, we were soon naked on Bruno's sofa. His hand kept going to my ass, while I repeatedly explaining that I was saving my ass-cherry for my special Man. He brought us glasses of wine, but before we drank, I decided to show off my skills at deep-throating well hung studs.
With his big dick down my throat, I suddenly Knew that he'd put a sleeping pill in MY wine, planning to rape my ass afterwards. It wasn't difficult to switch the glasses while confusing him with more deep-throat.
After the wine, Bruno slickly maneuvered us to his bedroom. He was sprawled on his bed, butchly puffing a cigar when I stunned him: "Bruno, I have bad news. I switched the wine glasses." He was shaken, but getting drowsy ."I should stay and rape your ass the way you planned to do me, but you're repulsive!" Grabbing his cigar when he passed out, I wrote "FAILED RAPIST" on his chest in large letters with the indelible marker which I Knew he had planned use to sign my ass after "possessing it". His detailed memoirs of the men with whom he'd played similar sick games was where I Knew it was hidden. I would've been getting off easy compared to some of those men. He would hold homeless men "prisoners" to break them into "slaves" to be sold to sadists. I left with his "Trophy Book". I wasn't crazy! I had accurately read Bruno's sick mind! Leaving, I heard a strange voice very faintly in my head: "Ben, come!" How odd: everyone always called me Benji.
The next night, I had my "breakup and coming-out date" with my girlfriend Nancy. Afterwards, I found myself "guilted" into a farewell fuck. A "switch" in my brain clicked: suddenly I was feeling Nancy's body sensations as well as my own! I felt the pleasure of MY tongue on "our" labia and clit while I warmed her up, at the same time that I tasted her. I felt her pleasure as MY hardness pierced "us", while I enjoyed entering her. I felt the pressure and friction of MY cock in "us" as I thrust and withdrew, enjoying the purely masculine bliss of fucking. I felt "our" unfamiliar orgasm build as my own familiar one approached, and felt "our" different FEMALE orgasm a full two minutes before blasting the best MALE orgasm of my life due to my double stimulation.
I was confused. Nancy apologized. "You came here to come out to me and I seduced you, making you more confused. I`m sorry, Benji, for my dirty trick." Although her words sounded like "guilt", I Felt her "satisfaction" at one last sexual experience with the "best lover" she knew, which lifted my spirits. After a serious talk, she became my first friend to support my coming out. Having your ex-girlfriend in your corner made coming out a lot easier. Unfortunately, she couldn't talk to my parents!
September, 19975: I was twenty-one, openly gay, a senior and thanks to my inheritance, I had bought a nice loft on Christopher Street. No more dorm restrictions!
Dating men was still confusing, but knowing what a man wanted sexually and moving with it wordlessly made me popular. Men loved dating me because I pleasured them in ways that they often weren't conscious of desiring. Mind reading would've been a lot more useful if I didn't have to have sex with them first. It would've been great to shake a man's hand at a bar and know if he was a nice guy or a psychopath. After a few times together, I could read a partner when we're in the same room, but they'd never heard MY thoughts, not even during sex. But still I heard that strange Voice faintly Calling "Ben! Come!"
I was twenty-one, happily gay, with my own place, and I was lonely. I could read the minds of sex partners but still had a terrible self-image. My ideals of masculinity had been formed by my Dream-Man, and the first men I had sex with. They were all jocks: big, hairy he-men I'd met through that first football player. A surprising number of them easily reciprocated, instead of just having me service them. My biggest turn on was men in uniforms.
I was attracted to big, strong hyper-masculine studs, while I'm 5'9", sinewy, and so hairless that I still shave only twice a week. Looking so different than my masculine ideal, I couldn't see myself as appealing. Seeing in men's minds how "cute' I was made things worse. Kittens and girls are "cute"; MEN are "hot", "rugged" and "handsome".
I was twenty-one, had my own place near most of the gay bars, and VERY lonely. For a few months, any fairly hot guy could have sex with me by buying me enough booze. I lost my judgment when drunk, telling my partner secrets from his mind. I got severely beaten after babbled details of his activities to a drug dealer while I was giving him the hard fucking he secretly craved.
Even drunk, I managed to keep to my ideal of saving my virginity for my Dream-Man. Disgusted with the men I was waking up with, I started going to AA meetings. My problem wasn't alcohol, but reading minds. However my life WAS better without booze, so I decided to drink soda in bars. Sober, I again heard those indistinct voices in my head calling "Come to us, Ben!" I tried Asking: "Where?" but the answer remained fuzzy.
I became selective, sleeping only with men just like Dream-Man, after long, serious talks in the bar. In other words, I spent ALL my nights alone.
I went home for Christmas by bus to avoid driving in a projected blizzard. Seeing my baby brother was the highlight of my short stay. I wanted to be in New York for a New Year's Eve party one of my gay neighbors was giving.
On the way back to New York, the bus stopped near a Marine base. A tall redheaded Marine got on: it was my Dream-Man! "It`s HIM!" I thought, as he searched for an empty seat.
His handsome head snapped to stare directly at ME. His Voice was in my head. "YOU! My Dream-Boat!" My Dream-Man moved straight towards me. The Voice in my head continued. "I can't fucking believe I finally found you, Hot Stuff. Man, the number of wet dreams I've had about you." He pushed towards my seat at the back, our eyes locked.
I Thought back. "Hot Stuff? ME? You can be a fucking movie star, while I'm a fucking cute puppy dog. Wouldn't you know it? The Man I've Dreamt about since I'm thirteen is a Marine on his way to a new post. So I'll ride on a bus with you to New York; happily give you my ass-cherry; hopefully spend a few nights with you; then never see you again." I almost started crying.
He sat next to me, smelling of a spicy cologne and cigars. He said. "Wrong, stud. When I get to New York, I'm getting discharged. I won't be Sergeant Albert Gustav Schmidt, just plain old Al Schmidt." His big hand covered my small one on the arm rest, squeezing it. "Well, I WILL be in the Reserves." He gave me a sexy grin.
I gulped. "I'm Benji Crandall. You're REAL!"
He laughed, but in my head I heard: "Now, Benji is a fucking DOG'S name. I'm NEVER calling you that!"
I loved his voice. "A REAL pleasure to meet you, BEN. A long time wet-dream come true. But why haven`t you answered any of the Calls from the Others."
"Others? I really HAVE been hearing a Call? It would've helped if it included a fucking address. They never answered my Call back."
"Your mother never.? Wait. May I enter your mind for a moment? It would speed things up."
"Sure. You can enter ANY part of me." I said seductively. I was answered by his rich, sexy laugh. I felt a pleasant pressure in my mind.
He Mind-Spoke: "Oh, that explains it. Your mother rejected her Heritage, so you aren't aware of being One of the People. I'm glad you feel the same way about me that I've felt about you in my dreams for seven years; I know, the same amount of time you've been dreaming about me. There's no doubt that the Creator planned for us to be Mates. Together, we can see which of your other siblings have the Power."
I Mind-Spoke back: "The People? Power? I'm confused. The only part that doesn't confuse me is being your Mate. Are we witches or something?"
"Not witches." He Thought humorously. "Although some of us HAVE been burned as witches when not careful, just as you were beaten by that drug dealer. By the way, I plan to kill that Bruno. Slowly, painfully, and with my bare hands."
I laughed. "You don't have to. You must've missed the part where I showed copies of his disgusting memoirs to every gay bartender in town, telling them an edited version of my avoided misadventure. It included Polaroid photos of the victims with Bruno. Other copies got made. Bigger men than that ape walk up to him in the street to spit in his face, or beat him. Groups of his former victims get together to gang-rape him at home. That asshole can't get laid. He's a broken man. We tracked down some of his `slave-boys' to get them help, getting the Masters arrested." Another advantage of Mind-Speech. I could Feel Al's deep admiration for my orchestrated vengeance against Bruno.
He chuckled, grinning. "I better stay on your good side, Dream-Boat. You're a dangerous enemy. A man I wouldn't want to cross." He caught a stray Thought from me and switched to regular speech for emphasis. "Let's get this straight, Hot Stuff. YOU ARE ALL MAN! You're sexy as hell, Ben, and we can work on some of the things you don't like, but some of them are non-issues. I HAPPEN to LOVE naturally smooth men, so I'm very GLAD you're NOT hairy. As for your build: have you ever heard of a GYM, Dream-Boat? Starting as soon as I settle in to your place - our place?" I nodded. "..we start bulking you up, and then we're spending two hours daily at the gym, until YOU can carry ME up those five flights of stairs."
I spoke in word and Thought. "You DO want to live with me?" All of my amazement, excitement and fear came through. "Are you sure, Al?"
He looked at me seriously, and answered in the same double-speech: "You were excited when I said that the Creator planned for us to be Mates?" Grinning, I nodded. "Well, don't Mates nest together? I was an adult when I began to Dream of you, Ben, totally Aware of my Powers, so I fell in love with the Dream-Boat the Creator had waiting for me. I just never imagined that you were still a snot-nosed kid. I always Dreamt of you at this age. I was so shocked when I saw you. The double shock of finally finding you, and of your youth. I've been looking for a man MY age. I'll be 35 on New Year's Day, our biggest Feast Day. How old are you, Hot-Stuff? I didn`t look."
I stared at him. "I'll be 22 on January 1st. My mom must've not totally abandoned her roots; she insisted the doctor induce labor right after midnight. We always thought it's because so many stores give gifts to the first child born each year.."
"She was making a Guilt Gift to the Creator, who chose to Bless US. So, DO you object to.. ?"
I Mind-Blasted him: "HELL, NO! I was always totally POSITIVE that I'd find you! There's a second, identical EMPTY dresser in the bedroom, waiting for you. I've never used the second bedroom closet. Your set of keys has been hanging on a hook in YOUR closet since I moved in. I hope you don't mind a big silver heart keychain."
A big, muscular arm went around my shoulder. "One of the advantages of being a 6'4" Marine in uniform, with a big row of ribbons on my chest, is that not too many redneck assholes are stupid enough to make even a muttered comment to me about this." He gave me a long, deep kiss, which seemed to last an eternity, but was still way too short.
Lightheaded, I examined his medals, fingering a Purple Heart, tears in my eyes, knowing he risked his life for it. "Hey, Hot-Stuff, I knew I'd survive saving my buddies: the Creator had ordained us Fated to be Mates in True-Foretelling Dreams. I'm the first Marine who's ever gone into enemy fire knowing I was totally safe."
I Saw the Truth. "Bullshit. You spent seven months in the hospital." I was shocked. "I wasn't TRYING to read that! I just Knew that you were lying your ass off." I looked at him "Were you in the hospital seven years ago with a mustache?"
"Yeah. Why?"
My finger touched his bare upper lip. There was stubble. "That was the image of you I Dreamt. I always Dreamed you had a mustache.."
"Which I've been planning to grow back starting yesterday. Reservists can wear them."
I had picked up another stray thought, so tried something: "Ass?" The image got clearer. "How do you like that? My big tough Marine's been saving HIS ass-cherry for ME the same way I'm saving MINE for HIM!"
He rebuked me: "Ben, it's considered rude to dig into another of the People's minds without permission!"
"Who dug? It was right on your mind's surface like your hospitalization. Your eagerness for us to FINALLY Mate that way popped into my head when I said `lying your ass off', then I confirmed it when I just said 'ass'. Lover-boy, you're primed for it." I touched his chin, then whispered, "I am, too."
I pointed at the New York skyline across the Hudson. "We'll be in our Nest soon enough, Big-Boy. Or do you..?"
"No, I'm on leave until my discharge. By the way, my Reserve Commander owes me some BIG favors. Two of the men I saved are his sons, another's his boyfriend. Why don't I arrange to be assigned a Recruiting visit to your hometown High Schools just before Easter, wearing my full uniform with ALL my metals? I'm not above using the cane I sometimes need in bad weather to emphasize to your asshole homophobic parents that your "faggot" BOYFRIEND is a fucking decorated, wounded war-hero MARINE." I noticed his elaborately carved cane for the first time.
Laughing, I kissed him. My Dream-Man was real and clutching me tight. He loved me as much as I've always loved him. He had a plan to crush my asshole social-climbing family. And in a little over an hour, unless he had another plan, he'd be pounding his big cock up my virgin ass. FINALLY!
Copyright 2010 - "Ike"
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, who can be reached at oldtimer25@Gmail.com