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YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 76
Second book : YOU BELONG TO JOBAL PART 23 - old man
I nodded politely, again, waiting for the old guy to give me another piece of advice - like he knew anything!
Here it was: "Don't try to be something you're not," he said.
Like that was the advice? But I don't try to be something I'm not, do I? So I was confused by him saying that, and it kind of made me think, what'm I trying to be I'm not? What is he getting at? Stupid old guy ... His child brain was like he was losing brain cells even as we spoke!
"Get some strength; cause then even if you're gay, people respect you. Do you understand, son?" ('Son'? I'm not his son!) He smiled pathetically. "Oh gays like you never understand anything ..." and he looked at me as though like I didn't understand anything ...
But I don't think HE understood! Because of course I understood! I did! I WANTED to be strong; I wanted to be a strong fuck, like Urib or Dhak; a sub who could hold his own in a fight, like if it came to that; a fag who was proud and strong who could be depended on, who didn't need anyone's help; who his owner could say, do this do that, and he'd know that I was up for it and that whatever it was I could take it and I could do it. I didn't want to be a sissy anymore - no offence to the sissies - and I realise that I go about almost constantly wanting to touch the men around me and to be touched and to have sex! Nut I wanted to be strong! I wanted to be a strong fag, to be used, I wanted to be strong! I wanted people to look at me like, yeah I was a fag and yeah I did serve my owner and so all right if I wasn't a Superior Man and I never cum; it was all right, because I was strong! I wanted to be strong! Sorry to go on about it, but I did. I knew it!
He held my hand, and with my palm upturned, with his thumb and fingers stroking it, looking at it like trying to read my future. Then he just looked at me and smiled. "Hey, I don't even understand. Though I might try until my last breath I'll never understand so why should you? You just do what makes you happy. Know what makes you happy?"
"Yes."
"What's that then?"
"Sucking cock!"
"Yeah? Is that it?"
"Yeah. Worshiping."
"Yeah? Is that all that makes you happy? What, any cock?"
"Yeah. Like ..." I thought about it for a moment. "... I guess so. Cause that makes sense."
His smile broadened and broke into a grin as he looked down at my hand; but then he again grew serious, "It might seem strange for a man of my age to have aspirations and whilst it is true that I do not, but I do have hopes ... though I know not what of. And yet meeting you my friend and fucking your sweet bottom - even if I ejaculated sooner than I would ideally have wanted - that has lifted my mood no end! So thank you for that"
"Thank you. I'm glad," I replied, politely.
"No, thank YOU, young man. Keep it up - pardon my pun! The moment is now: enjoy it while you can."
And we both kind of smiled even though, by now, the mood had kind of dropped!
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Where is he going with this? Where the hell is his story even going at this point?' Well the truth is, and this might shock you: I was filled, 'at this point', with an urge to kill him! I was! This old bloke telling me supposedly wise shit about my fucking life ('The moment is now: enjoy it while you can.' Piss!) like he knew fuck-all about anything. Fucking cunt ... I mean, back in HIS day EVERYTHING was ILLEGAL! Everything! And even, ok, after that ... you know? It was a different fucking world! Like he knows. Like he knows anything. Older generation. All that shit. Like he knows anything about my life and my life and what I do ... or anything, yeah? He doesn't know anything. Yeah?
But I knew!
I already knew what I was doing - with my life; with everything - the toilet I had become. So yeah, go on: tell me, old man! Fuck off! Fuck off, old man with a limp!
All he wanted, all he wanted was not to cum so easily - the holy grail: delayed ejaculation as if he had staying power and could keep piling even if, even if he was super-excited and edged he still wouldn't cum! And he thinks he's going to show me a good time? Like he's still top Top ... if he ever was - I mean, talk about ... 'Delusions of Grandeur' they call it when someone thinks they're the big I AM, or were, or still, when actually they NEVER were and lost what they had long ago and only getting sadder and sadder and sadder!
I'm sorry I never said that.
Well yeah but I'm NOT sorry I DIDN'T say it as well! Cause, like, who cares, yeah? Anyway? - his shit, what he is or isn't or anything ... Yeah? Old man with a limp ... fuck him! All these people trying to control me only they can't. They can't! I'm going stronger and they are just staying the same. Like I belong to anyone. Like they can own me. Cunts. All of them.
But I WANT to be used because that's who I AM! And all this, it's my choice - not some owner, not someone else. Not Jake. Not Po. Not Jobal, certainly not! And Gabriel wasn't interested cause he's got Dhak and and and and THAT'S what I call a proper healthy relationship! But he wasn't interested. So fuck him. And Dhak. Fuck them both!
Yeah, I know; do not adjust your set, I know.
Who am I kidding? Cause then I thought of Po, and it seemed like, even so it was only a few hours, but even still: when would I see him again? And what would happen then? I mean, when ... he sees me? Will he feel the same thing? Does he miss me, or does he not even feel anything like he pretends to, like when all he wants to do is to cum inside?
I mean, in the end you've got to find a man who is going to make impossible demands upon you, who is going to insist that you live your best life, don't you? Someone who demands strength in return for strength? So I missed Po and I swore to myself to get home, as soon as I can; no more distractions, make his bed, make his dinner, tidy up, prepare myself, get ready, adopt the position, and wait. That was the plan.
The old guy was smiling - probably at some thought or other. Not mine. How would I know?
"I need to get going," I said.
"Oi, where are you off to?" he said.
"Home," I said.
"Home? Where's that?"
I told him. "That block of flats?"
"You know it?"
"Yeah. I live here! I know this town don't I?"
He continued to hold my hand thoughtfully, and seemed to be staring at it whilst mastering his emotions.
"Y-you're a beautiful boy ... I-I'm ..."
I wondered why he'd gone quiet.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I might ask the same thing. What do YOU want, son? When there's all these pretty guys I see and remember how it used to be for me, to be young and fit. Old age, long waited for, happened suddenly; now I look at you, I know what you want - and I see this willing type, only wanting to be fucked, abused, spoit. That's all you want int it? To be used, to be used up, to be spoilt, to be ruined. Is that it?"
"I-I don't know ..."
"Oh you know. You know perfectly well. Come here. Let me ruin you some more. You deserve it. It's what you want."
"I'm just ... I need to get on," I said.
"Do you? In a hurry?"
"A bit."
"No time to give an old man a hug and a kiss even?"
"No, I mean, sure, if that's what you want."
(Like I never say no, do I?)
"I want YOU to want it, but I suppose that's too much to ask."
"No, I want it," I said, honestly; and trying to look like I meant it I put my arms round him and kissed him the way he wanted (like not demanding but like he had this desire) and I wondered ... if he knew how his face was? Cause it was dry like scrunched and smoothed out but not completely, and it was all ... well, sort of un-soft, rough, and grey sandpaper since he last shaved - whenever that was! I mean, he didn't bother to worry but it rubbed against my face and it was sharp. I'm not complaining! I'm just saying that's how it felt!
And his lips were sort of hard rubbery, not soft like mine, or Po's or, I mean, not just what I'm used to! They were sort of hungry and sort of demanding in a way that isn't ... I don't know ... it's just odd. His tongue was kind of hard as well when I sucked it and when I gave him my tongue he sucked it real deep and pulled it and hurt it, which I don't mind.
Anyway, yeah I kissed him. Why not? He was a man!
He slid his arms around me, quickly uncovering my thin t-shirt, putting his hands all over my skin, grasping, rubbing, pinching where he could; his finger swiftly found my hole again, down my shorts, and played around in it - which smart cause it fucking hurt! - and I realised he was hard again.
But we was in the road, so he dragged us, or sort of pushed us, round this corner just out of sight, opened his fly and pulled out his cock and wanked it a few times and I felt it cause it was super stiff and curved up, and bigger than I thought it the first time - and he turned me and fucked me again from behind. And this time a bit longer! There was a brick wall he pushed my face up against which hurt but he didn't seem to care very much. When he cum he banged my forehead hard without thinking and I got a little graze which he didn't notice.
He was panting like a dog at last and all suddenly changed cause he wasn't grateful or anything he was just, like, yeah, done that, pulled out and stood there, his prick all juiced, all over, and he was looking at it as I turned round, pulling myself up, and he said, "You better clean me up because this can't go in my pants!"
I could feel his cum inside me so I was happy and grateful and I knelt down and gobbled him up, sucking him and swallowing his little bit of cum he was still producing. I didn't mind. In fact, I liked that it has a taste like me and his cum. I liked him getting satisfaction as well! It's like, yeah! that's what I'm here for!
So yeah, that was fine.
"Ok you can run along now. Fuck off!"
So I did. I fucked off. I ran.
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END OF YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 76