For the Love of Mamon: an Obsession with my New Favorite Novel/Movie

Some people say that your life will go the way that you say it will. I believe that to a certain extent. When I read Boi Kul-ture I was so into it and found so much of myself in it. It was like insane. I mean an anti-social intellectual who can articulate any emotion short of feeling it himself? Oh yea, and he hustles for a living.

When I started raving about it, 1L went and bought a copy. He couldn't put it down. I asked and asked what he thought about it. I mean, he's my gay best friend, and this was my favorite gay book. How was he not talking to me about it? He said we should talk about it in person. I read nothing into that comment. I just figured he was busy. He was coming to visit me in just a couple of days anyway.

1L said that he had lots of friends in my city, and that he hadn't visited my part of the country in far too long. He made it sound as if it was just convenient that I lived here. So I expected that I would be a 'part' of a trip. He got a hotel room that overlooks the city. Did I mention he has a thing for views? And asked me to stay with him. It wasn't too far from where I live anyway, and it was down the street from my new super awesome gym. Why not?

The first night he was here, both he and I were exhausted and famished. I had just finished a long series of meetings (of which of course I didn't tell him), and he had just gone thru a long series of flight delays.

When we got to the hotel room, I lied down and asked how his flight went. Then I asked him to get on top of me. He said we could fool around later, but that he was hungry. I playfully pleaded, "Please???? Just for a few minutes!" I rolled around on the bed seductively and said, "I just want to feel someone on top of me." I gave him puppy eyes.

As if he needed much encouragement, he looked rather happy to oblige me. He manouvered his large body and straddled me. I closed my eyes... for more than one reason, but among them in expectation of feeling on the bottom. I don't know why its such a big deal to me, but I really REALLLY like feeling under someone. He started kissing my neck... slowly and yet intensely. Each kiss almost left a hickey. It felt amazing and I arched my back giving him even more of my neck.

He slipped his hands under my shirt and rubbed my stomach, ribs, and pecs. I struggled against his weight as I laughed cuz I'm ticklish. His kisses were amazing. They were intense, and just in-between painful and excruciatingly pleasurable.

He got me worked up, and before I started going to that place of no return, I stopped him, and said, "Whoa... okay okay... let's go get something to eat." He kind of just laughed, and as I got up from the bed, I said, "By the way, you should just know... U're amazing.... I mean really amazing... as in, u have no idea... how good it is that which you do."

We went and got food at a 24 hour diner that surprisingly accommodates fags on diets. And there, in that dimly lit 1950ish diner, I asked, "So what did you think of the book?"

"What book?" he asked. "Don't play stupid. You said we would talk about it in person," I retorted. "Now you're here, and I want to have this conversation."

It's as if I had said that his mother had died. He looked down at the rest of the empty booth in which we sat. He didn't want to look at me. "What?" I asked.

"It was good. I just wish the ending hadn't been so neat," he finally said. WTF? What did the ending have to do with anything? It's a fucken cute ending. But that's not the point of the book. The ending has almost nothing to do with the book. It's all about the journey.

"Uuuuuhm, yea. u're right. It was a convenient ending. But what did you think about all the stuff that lead up to it????" I pestered.

He looked away again. He was being so obvious. "Something's bothering you," I said stiffening my tone of voice slightly. I realized I wasn't going to get the run of the mill answer from him, but it wasn't going to be something light either. "What is it?" I asked.

He looked up at me finally, and his eyes seemed to look past me. He was looking at me, but not just at me. Its as if he was looking into and through me.

Then, he just blandly said, "It hit close to home."

Huh? What home? I thought we were talking about this damn cute gay novel. What the fuck was he talking about?

It hit me like a ton of bricks. OMG--the book is about a bunch of guys who are into each other but where no one basically gets anyone until the surprise ending. Of course, its a love triangle so one of the guys is left somewhat heart broken.

Oh shit. How'd I not see this before? I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking about him.

My parade having been rained upon, I just sat there, paused as reality hit me, and said, "Oh. I hadn't realized how that might have happened for you."

I started studying my food. I had to look away.

"No, its okay," he said.

"Honestly, I don't know how I overlooked such a thing. I mean I guess I should've known," I went on as I realized how tough the chicken was to cut with a fork.

"I'm serious," he said, "it just felt weird to identify so much with the main character in the first part of the book, only to end up realizing that I was on the one left without anybody at the end."

Fuck. He had to put it just like that didn't he? WTF was his problem?

He went on and on about it. We talked about looks eventually, and he essentially said that my standards were going to keep me unhappy. Of course he never said that, but it was very loud and very clear in his speaking.

The check came, and I tossed my credit card over it. He never put his down. The waitress came, and picked up my card. I gawked at him for a split moment. He caught it, and brazenly said, "I'll get it next time. He knows I'm saving for school, and he knows how serious I am about it. WTF was his problem?

We went back to the hotel, and I fell to the bed exhausted. He asked why I was sleeping with my clothes on. I said, "I'm too tired to take them off."

He put his arm around me, and started undoing my buttons. That was the last thing I remembered that night, because I literally fell asleep before he finished undoing my shirt.

I next awoke with a heaving breath. It was morning and my entire stomach and inner thighs were warm and covered with a mixture of sweat and baby oil. I was hard as a rock, and I didn't know how long I had been this way. I opened my eyes with shock, and there he was, looking over me as his hand made its way up and down my shaft from the tip all the way to my scrotum, and as he did so, my body jumped in a shudder of pleasure.

"OMG, what are you doing????" I said in between gasps. "What???" he said faking innocence, "you've never woken up with a woody?"

He slid his hand up and down my throbbing shaft again, knowing exactly where to pause and swirl. I writhed and gasped again for breath. The pleasure was so intense, and so incredible that I dared not touch his hand or do anything to stop the insane sensations coursing through me.

He and I have had this game before--about who's really in control. It's just nonsense, but it came immediately to mind.

I was drawing breaths in sharply, as I said, "You know how I know you're in control?"

"Oh?" he said again feigning innocence and emphasizing his calm over my agitated state.

"Because I would give anything for you to finish me off right now," I said breathfully. He again stroked me, and I my stomach muscles contracted suddenly and I almost sat up and came. But I didn't, and as if he knew exactly what he was doing, he smiled at me with an evil grin.

"Oh my god... Oh my god... Oh my god," I panted. "What?" he again said calmly.

"Please! Please! Don't stop!" I said grabbing the sheets and twisting them with my hands. "Oh, its taken a while to get you to this point Mr. Tino... I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it," he said in that same sing-song-like tone of calmed voice.

I swear I thought my dick was going to explode, and eventually it did, and I was left breathless. I didn't reciprocate. I couldn't. There wasn't time, and well, I just didn't know him as well as he knew me.

We had dinner that night with a friend of his from college. A billionaire young lady who was very pretty and very bored with the men the city had to offer. She assumed that 1L and I were together and he had to awkwardly correct her. When she finally got around to talking about herself, she and I hit it off. We were like long lost fraternal twins. We were so alike that I saw 1L become noticeably bothered.

When we finished dinner, he admitted, that he was jealous. Oh geeez... I mean, yes, I like it her, and I even said at one point that I wished she was a guy. But still.... it wasn't that big a deal. He was nonetheless truly bothered. That night, after that conversation, I made a decision--it was too much. He was still too into me. We couldn't fuck around any more.

So that night, I didn't do anything. The following night we caught some opera, and as luck would have it, the guy sitting next to me was incredibly gorgeous. 1L freaked out, and took the seat that positioned himself in between me and the hottie. That pissed me off and sealed the deal that we could no longer hook up.

After the opera he was totally silent, as was I. He wanted to eat out, but opted instead for a grocery run. He went along with it. At the grocery store, he mimicked my moves and wouldn't stop from standing right next to me. I had to bring it up gently, and let him know that he was standing so close to me that I couldn't see everything. He got embarassed and went to go get other food.

That night, I decided to fall asleep with a book. I fell asleep quickly, but I saw him, before I fell asleep, take the book out of my hand with a knowing smirk.

I was angry that night, and I was figuring out how and when to tell him that we wouldn't fool around anymore.

I awoke that night--gasping for air. It was still night, and though I had fallen asleep clothed, my pants were open and my dick was standing up ram-rod-like. I couldn't believe he was doing this. I turned around furious and gave him a look full of my anger. But it was dark. The feelings were too good, and I didn't know what to do.

I'd let him finish me off but not show happiness or pleasure from it. I didn't want dram. I didn't want drama.

He did, and as I calmed myself down, I turned away from me, but with that same evil grin on his face, his chubby hands grabbed my hand and placed it over his dick. He started stroking himself with my hand. Ick and ugh I thought to myself. I can't do this... WTF? I didn't want to do this. but I wanted his hand off of mine, so i stroked on my own but in a way that blared nothing but 'perfunctory.' After a few seconds, he got the hint, and guided my hand away as he finished himself off.

I got up, and bathed myself. I felt dirty. I came back--having not said a word, and laid on the bed naked. I was cold but I didn't want the blanket. I wanted to be all by myself. After I thought he had fallen asleep, he said, "Good night Tino."

He sounded so alert that I was freaked out. It was eerie. How long had he been awake? Could I fall asleep without him trying to get me off again? WTF?

The next morning it was awkward, and I finally came clean. No more sex--as in, no kind of sex at all. He tried for a nano-second to blame that night on me. He said I rolled around in my sleep and put my hand on him. Yea fucken right. I just shot him a look, and then he immediately apologized.

I told him that turning his offer down at a relationship was tough, but that I was certain in my decision. The sex was fine up until it was no longer pressure free. I felt pressured, so it had to end.

The trip was anti-climatic after that. But since then, he has brought it up often now, that he wants to fuck again. I have not given him a response, saying that I would have to think about it. Today, he finally asked if I would talk about it now, or wait until we were again in the same city. I said I would think about it, and that if it came up, well then great, and if it didn't then it didn't.

Fair enough, he said. But then added that he would pay me.

I was stunned. I didn't even know how to respond. So I didn't. I'm still in shock about it.

Ring girl called and I told her. She ranted about how immoral it was. So then I called SB. Gahd I love him. "Yea, I know a bunch of people who do that," he said, "it pays a lot. I mean James gets paid 250 just to pee on a guy." He said it so matter-factly. Damn.