Dirty Story

As soon as I woke up, I felt the urge to go see Jacob. I guess assuming he is alone at home each morning isn’t the best thing a friend could do. I don’t want to take him for granted. But I probably do. I just need him too much. He’s my balance. Poor man! Poor lovely man! I guess I need to know there’s someone I could tell everything. I never do. I spare him the gory details of the arctic emptiness I live with every day. And he never seems to get upset when he receives my calls at 2 in the morning. Even if it’s not about any serious crisis. Just telling him I miss him. And he’s my best friend. I avoid telling him that I love him. But I think it at the end of each spoken phrase. He is patient enough to tolerate these moments of drunken, inappropriate honesty. He talks to me in his calm voice, soothing my nerves, making me forget how unbearable my life seemed before I phoned him.



Jacob sits in the kitchen and reads the newspaper, a cup of coffee in front of him. It looks like such a domestic picture! I am restless and terribly tempted to embrace him from behind. Instead I just come close and ask him what he’s reading.



“The horoscope, of course.” he jokes.



I laugh and my hand caresses his head, my fingers combing through the rich softness of his hair. It’s an intimate gesture, probably more than should be allowed by the rules of simple friendship, but it just feels great to the touch. So great, I’m tenderly pulling his hair - just a little bit.



“I love your hair like this. You should never cut it short. What does the horoscope say about me?”



“The horoscope says you’re a bastard who ditches his friends in bars and returns to pull their hair too.”



“You’re not really upset because of that.” I notice.



“If you’re bothering me when I read about the health reform, I tend to get upset… Come, Dave. Drink your coffee. Or have a cookie.”



“Do you care that much about these things? You know that all these things don’t alter not even in the slightest way the essence of life. Of your life.”



“I like to keep myself informed.” He puts down the paper and gives me his tender blue gaze. I’m instantly flooded with warmth but my mouth keeps blabbering.



“So you just collect pointless information. With a very short expiration term. Because today’s news are eaten by tomorrow’s news. And so on.”



“Yeah… Take it as a ritual. I don’t like to drink my coffee without reading the newspaper. Like you don’t like your coffee with cream.”



“I could get used to cream…”



“That would be a bigger change than joining a monastery…”

“So you don’t think people could change…”



“No. With time all their character traits accentuate, but that’s all.”



“But we still have choices.”



“Minor ones.”



“I can still surprise you.”



Jacob looks straight into my eyes.



“Are you planning to?”



….



When did the day pass? It’s getting dark already. I slept in the afternoon even if I had no reason to be tired. Or maybe I am simply tired of being me. I am crushed by how fast times flies. I don’t feel it – it’s always sneaking up on me. I just wake up a bit older every day.



I need some air.



….



Before seeing Christoph, I didn’t know I was looking for him.



As I’m following him through the labyrinth of a semi-abandoned hotel, I check him out. I like what I see. How could I not? Perfect straight back, low jeans tight around slim hips. He walks lazily, taking his time. I wish he would hurry up – I’m eager like a young idiot at a first date.



The room he chooses is… impressive. If I weren’t so damn horny I would appreciate the derelict quality that reveals itself when he turns on the light – the flaking paint, the not too white sheets on the iron-post bed … that looks like a hospital bed, if I think about it… The rusted and leaking faucet from the sink by the door… the stained mirror… the solitary light bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling…



What the hell am I doing here? Oh. Yes. I am doing him. Christoph turns to me and gives me a smile. My heart stops for a beat. His face looks so pretty and pure, when illuminated by that smile. He starts taking his pants down, revealing the pale skin of his long legs.



“The shirt too” I manage to mutter as I take off my jacket.



He nods and takes it all off. I hold my breath. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And I want him badly. And he’s mine to have. For a reasonable price too.



I bend him over the edge of the bed, unzipping myself hastily. Condom! I should not forget about that! My hands circle his slim waist. I’m touching his abdomen and caressing everything I can reach. All that delectable silky smooth skin… I’m holding him tight and mouthing the back of his neck. I’m loving his taste…



I’m fumbling for the tube he gave me. He winces when I touch him and I find that… sweet. ‘This is not about two people pleasing each other’, I say to myself as I bury myself inside him and my hands reach for his cock and start stroking it. ‘This is just paid sex’, I say to myself when I’m kissing his neck, trying hard to refrain from devouring it. ‘This can’t feel so good’, I say to myself when I’m increasing rhythm and hear him moan. The sounds he makes, alone, would drive me over the edge… I hate the faked enthusiasm, I have always preferred a respectable silence. But now I am so completely entranced by his sounds, his smell, his beautiful body moving in time with mine…



When I’m done I keep stroking him until he finishes too. As I lay on top of him, listening to his heart beat calming down, I realize that we must make a really funny picture – him, so supple and naked and fragile looking and me on top, pants down my ankles, a half dressed, heavily breathing, solid middle aged man. I pull out.



“That was so good” – he tells me breathily and I’m blushing like a schoolgirl. How much are his compliments worth, after all… But I feel like I owe him something. I want to give him something apart from the money I paid him when we made our deal. A business card? A book with an autograph? Do I want to become his friend? Or his regular customer? I wipe my brow from the sweat, trying to get rid of these ridiculous thoughts at the same time.



I’m getting dressed again. He doesn’t. I’m confused about whether I should go or stay and say something to him. But Christoph comes to me, his splendid nakedness taking my breath away again and leans to give me a kiss. On the lips. His mouth tastes so sweet that I feel like I’m losing my mind.



“See you!”



I’m closing the door behind me. Yes, I am losing my mind…