E-Mails From the Rim

From: "Doug.xxxx”

To: "Bobbie,yyyyyy"

Sent: Saturday, August 10, 2002 9:16 AM

Subject: Do I Look Stupid?

This gets a little complicated but try to follow me. Lania, a friend of Erika’s, has a boyfriend Dirk who works with ex-convicts returning to society after serving out their term in prison. Now, Dirk has one of his “clients”, who is getting out of his halfway house, who needs a place to stay until arrangements can be made for an apartment of his own. So, Dirk asks Lania to ask Erika to ask me if I can put this guy up for a day or two.

So, I asked Erika if I looked gullible or just plain stupid. Why would I want to do a thing like that? Just Great!! An ex-con in my apartment! I mean I’ve got two TV’s, a DVD, a CD, a computer, to speak nothing of other things laying around like my money, my checkbook, and my credit cards—and my baseball card collection. Geez! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out all that stuff would be as good as gone.

And, of course, my luck would be that, on top of being an ex-burglar, this guy is some reformed ax murder who owes his freedom to his spiritual conversion to the Kult of the Kosmic Kumquat, who burns incense, and chants in Urdu, while honing his ceremonial paring knife on a whetstone made of pumice from the volcano of Kali west of Krakatoa!

Noooohoooohoooo Way! The Birdman of Alcatraz is just going to have to find another roost.

So, I told Erika to tell Lania to tell Dirk to tell Mr. Charlie Manson, “Thanks but no thanks.”

Of course, Erika added, “You are just being a socially irresponsible poop! You’ve got a good job, money, and things. And this guy is just trying to make it back into society. You can protect all your stuff from this guy for a couple of days if you really wanted to. Besides, I know you think Lania’s sister is cute and I’d bet that Lania could get you a date with her sister…if she had the right motivation.”

Oh Maaaaannnnnn!! Lydia? My groin begins to ache just thinking about her. Now, Lania is goooood looking-- black hair, dark eyes, smooth skin—and not dumb either. But Lydia? Lydia, Lydia, Lydia has the same black hair but shiny, jet-black; and she has the same dark eyes but sparkling and laughing; and she has the same smooth skin but creamy and tan—and Lydia is a lawyer. Can’t be too dumb and still be a lawyer!

What should I do? I don’t want to wind up dismembered in some lettuce crate in some vacant lot behind a billboard. But Lydia? Oh Maaaannnnn!! What should I do?

From: "Doug.xxxx”

To: "Bobbie,yyyyyy"

Sent: Monday, August 12, 2002 9:00pm

Subject: More Info

Well, I did what you suggested. I followed up with Dirk about this guy he wanted to “place”. And I made sure I told Ericka that I was going to talk to Dirk. I figured that even if I didn’t let my apartment become a home for the homeless, I would be showing that I made a good faith attempt at being a socially conscious altruist—at least enough of a showing to prompt Lydia to go out with me.

I met with Dirk at the County Court House. He isn’t actually employed by the County or by the Courts; he really works for a community outreach program. But he spends a lot of time in court because that is where he makes all of his contacts. He is a rather interesting fellow, too. He is a former priest with a law school education. What a combination! He doesn’t practice law because he hasn’t been able to pass the bar and he isn’t affiliated with the church anymore because—well, he was pretty frank about it—because when he was a priest, the church expected him to be celibate. He said that his sex life was too important to him to be dictated to by a group dried up old men who didn’t remember what sex was all about.

He met Lania through Ericka, who works for the probation department now. Part of what Erika does is to make sure that people, who as a condition of their probation are required to be tested for drugs and/or alcohol use, actually show up to take the tests. Lania works in the documents section of one of the “Pee Labs” and so has a lot of contact with probation officers and the like. My sister knew Dirk because of his involvement in placing prison parolees into outside living situations and, interestingly enough, also knew Lania’s sister, the fabulous Lydia, because Lydia handled clients who were on probation. What a snug little group! I guess they didn’t see any conflict in socializing with each other.

Dirk looked like a neat freak to me. I mean he dressed impeccably! He didn’t dress formally; in fact, he dressed rather casually. But he was spotless, groomed up, and shined up. He wore black, which surprised me once I found out that he had once been a priest. But the black was not a clerical black; it was more of a Ninja black—very Zen. He was soft spoken, as one might expect of an ex-priest, but he exuded raw sexuality. Whatever that indefinable quality was—animal magnetism, pheromones, charisma—even I could tell that sex was not far from this person’s thoughts at any given time.

So I asked him what the deal was with his little work in progress. He was pretty straightforward. He said that Gary, the ex-convict, had been in State Prison for three years not for rape or murder; not for robbery or burglary; but because of an unfortunate incident involving a political demonstration where some people got hurt. It so happened that Gary, while organizing and conducting an illegal street march, had sabotaged some traffic signals. In the ensuing confusion, several traffic accidents occurred causing dozens of personal injuries and tens of thousands of dollars in damage private and public property. Gary, who faced a welter of criminal charges, pled as best he could but wound up going to prison for three years nevertheless.

Dirk assured me that Gary was not a danger to anyone. He wasn’t a doper or a drunk, didn’t mug helpless women, nor did he molest children. The man was simply a zealot for a cause that led him to make some unfortunate, albeit costly, mistakes. In fact, Gary, who had worked for the IT department of a huge corporation, had already lined up a job working in the same field but for a much smaller company.

I asked Dirk why Gary wouldn’t be staying with him. He said there were a couple of reasons. One was that it wouldn’t be proper from a professional standpoint--liability issues you know; and, two, Dirk had just moved in with Lania a month or two before

--something I didn’t know about—and having a “client” staying with him probably wouldn’t sit well with Lania. I allowed as how that made sense about Gary not staying with them.

But Dirk reinforced with me that everything was going to be cool but that if anything happened, if I would up missing so much as a toothpick, Dirk would make good the loss.

So I told Dirk that it was OK for Gary to bunk at my place for “a few” days. I insisted on the understanding that a “few” days would not amount to any more than two weeks. Dirk agreed. He said he had Gary already set to move into an apartment on the first of the month--16 days was pretty close to two weeks. No Problem at all.

We shook hands. I felt much better about the whole thing. I also felt that I was doing my share to be a socially responsible adult to say nothing of burnishing my reputation with the likes of Erika, Lania and, especially, Lydia.

I will let you know how this all turns out.

From: “Doug.xxxx”

To: "Bobbie,yyyyyy"

Sent: Tuesday, August 13, 2002 11:00pm

Subject: Guess What?

All too good to be true! I knew that there had to be a fly in the ointment somewhere. I mean it wasn’t all that catastrophic but I still feel a little dumb for not having asked.

Dirk brought Gary over the day after Dirk and I had made our deal. They trooped up the stairs of my apartment building, Gary carrying a two-suiter and a large athletic bag and Dirk carrying two larger suitcases. Gary seemed friendly and in good spirits and Dirk seemed gratified that he had accomplished something of value for one of his clients. After they dropped the luggage in the living room, Dirk gave Gary a manly hug and a slap on the back and extracted a promise from Gary to check in with him the next day.

So, I got a chance to size up Gary. He was, as grandpa used to say, a “stout fellow”. He is an African-American man about 30 years old, 5’10” and maybe 180lbs. It was hard to tell exactly because he was “built”; I mean he must have worked out a lot when he was behind bars! He was wearing black jeans and a charcoal gray t-shirt that had an orange and black iconographic “Men at Work” sign printed on the front.

I know what you are thinking and the answer is NO! You know me. You know I am not a racist in any way shape or form. The fact that Gary was a black man didn’t faze me in the least. And I’m not one of those “Really-some-of-my-best-friends-are-black” people. You know I grew up in a mixed neighborhood and, for real, some of best friends WERE (and ARE) black. What did faze me somewhat was the t-shirt. I finally got the picture.

The icon of “Men at Work” showed the silhouette of two workmen in hard hats, one in side view bending over with what looked like a wrench in his hand and the other workman, also in side view, was standing behind the first hunched over a little. You could make out the flat view of the head of a shovel on the ground behind the character’s foot. One got the impression that the handle of the shovel extended upward diagonally across the second character’s leg to a point where the workman might have been leaning on the end of it that was in front of him.

All of this is very logical but the overwhelming “gestalt” one got was that the workman in front was hunched over with his cock in his hand and that the workman behind him was leaning over with his cock in his hand about ready to butt fuck his partner!

Gary was gay! No question in my mind. Gary was gay!

You know me. I am a blatant heterosexual. I am not exactly a homophobe but gay men unnerve me. It isn’t my thing but it always seems to me that an openly gay guy wants to think that I think that it IS my thing.

Geez! Why didn’t I ask of Dirk if there was ANYTHING else he should tell me about Gary?

I helped Gary carry his bags into the spare bedroom and showed him where his bathroom and the towels were along the way. My apartment has a three-quarters bathroom off the main hallway, the one for Gary to use, and a full bathroom as part of the master bedroom. The fact that I could close my bedroom door and not have to wander around the apartment in my skivvies was on my mind.

Then I gave him a briefing on the kitchen with a basic “mi casa, su casa” speech. I don’t drink so there’s no booze in the house—no problem for him; and he could make himself any kind of sandwich he wanted as long as it was liverwurst and onions on rye bread—the only fixings I had. Everything else was fast food or eating out.

I was just finishing up with all of this when Gary looked at me and said, “You know, man? I am gay. Does that bother you?” I must have said no unconvincingly because he followed up with, “Hey, man! Don’t worry! Its cool! I am already hooked up. I’m not looking.”

He must have sensed my relief. He smiled and so did I. He offered his hand to me and got a firm, manly handshake in return. I think we understood each other.

So, I’ll get more to you in a day or so. Meanwhile, it looks like it is going to be OK here.

From: "Doug.xxxx”

To: "Bobbie,yyyyyy"

Sent: Thursday, August 15, 2002 11:45pm

Subject: About Lydia and…

Well, I had a brother/sister chat with Erika today. I told her that I had moved Gary in and that “everything was going fine”. Then I obliquely asked whether she had a chance to talk to Lania or Lydia about….you know….about going out with Lydia. I mean, a deal is a deal.

Erika said that she had set something up that she thought might work out pretty well. I felt like the voice-over dog in the Beggin-Strips commercial, “It’s Lydia; it’s Lydia, Lydia, Lydia, Lydia!!!” But I managed to keep my voice calm. Then Erika broke it to me: she had arranged for me to accompany “the girls” out on a Friday night, all expenses paid.

I think Erika missed the point. My plan was to get Lydia out on a date, wine, dine and dazzle her, and then wind up getting into her pants. I mean: like “one on one”? Like her and me? Like “two’s company and four is a mob scene”? What in the world could Erika have been thinking?

She sensed in my voice disappointment that must have been more easily detectible, I’m sure, because it contrasted with soaring elation of the moment before. She explained that Lydia really didn’t like to meet new men one on one. Lydia was circumspect and cautious when it came to getting involved. She would always insist on meeting someone new in a group scene like a party, or at dinner with friends, or on a night out for drinks and dancing. That way she could take her own car and would have an “out” if she didn’t find her new date attractive.

That made sense--I suppose—Dammit!!

The plan was that Erika, Lania, Lydia and I go out for dinner and then do some club hopping. Erika knew I didn’t drink. Man! Was I going to be a cheap date or what?

But what was my choice? I agreed. Erika said I should meet them at 7:00pm at the “Maison Argonne” restaurant on Friday—that’s tomorrow!!

So I am on with Lydia for Friday—kind of.

But I have to tell you about Gary, too.

I moved the guy in on Tuesday evening. Things were cool Tuesday night. I ordered in a pizza; he watched some TV and I did my e-mails and some chatroom stuff. Anyway, I hit the sack about 10:00pm and Gary did the same.

I got up Wednesday morning and went down the hall toward the kitchen when I noticed that the door to the spare bedroom was open. I didn’t know if Gary was asleep or not but I didn’t want to wake him up if he were asleep so I eased up on my steps to be as quiet as I could. As I passed the door, I could partially see into the room. I caught a glimpse of the mirror on the far wall that was reflecting an image of the bed on the opposite wall. Uh Oh!

I could see Gary laying on the bed, flat on his back, stark naked with his huge erect cock in his right hand. I could see his eyes were closed as he stroked himself up and down the length of his rod and I could see his left hand massaging his right nipple. He was really going at it! He seemed to be too absorbed to notice me so I started to creep past the doorway. Just then I heard his voice, “It’s cool man. Don’t worry. You ain’t bother’n me at all.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and again looked into the mirror. I could see the smile on his face as he looked back at me and I could see that he was stroking his cock even more sensuously, all the way up its length and all the way down—very slowly.

Now, you know I grew up with two older brothers and knew all about jacking off. I mean, we all did it but we pretty much kept it to ourselves. My brother walked in on me one morning when I was jacking off in bed under the sheets and literally pulled my covers! It was all kind of a joke but we never took each other seriously when it came to that—I mean, like we never watched each other or anything like that. Little sister Erika, younger than all of us, figured it out and used to tease about it but, other than that, it wasn’t talked about much at all. No one bugged her about it and I am sure she later on developed her own methods of satisfying herself, too.

So, standing there watching a guy jack off in person was a novel experience. And I couldn’t take my eyes away!

I said Gary had a huge cock? Well, that is an understatement. It had to be at least 9 inches and big around, too. He stroked and coddled that thing like he was caressing a woman’s thigh. Then he surrounded it with his fist and began pumping harder and faster. I watched the fingers of his left hand move back to his right breast and pinch his nipple as he jacked his cock. His eyes were closed again and he moved his body more flexing his “abs” with each stroke of his cock. Then he paused and blew his load, a huge load that spurted all the way up his chest. Some of it even reached his throat. He slumped back in relief.

“You ain’t never seen that before, dude?” he said, as he wiped the cum off his chest with a washcloth.

I shook my head and said, “No. I mean not in person, anyway.”

“It looks like you were enjoying it, dude!” He said as he pointed toward my crotch.

I looked down and, sure enough, my cock was hard and sticking out of the opening in the front of my boxers. Geez!

“Easy Man! You can’t let that go to waste!” he said as he slowly moved from the bed to where I was standing in the doorway.

I was too shocked, curious, excited, to move as he knelt down in front of me. His hand came up and caressed my cock moving the material of my boxer shorts away so he could get a better view. He looked at it a moment and then open his mouth and gently surrounded the head of my penis with his lips.

I was transfixed. His mouth was warm and soft. It enveloped my cock and held it close. As he moved his head forward drawing my shaft deeper into his mouth, I could feel his tongue work its way back and forth along the sensitive underside of my glans. And then he drew his head back slowly using his tongue again in the same way.

It took no time at all. My knees got so weak that I had to lean back against the doorjamb and hold on to the doorknob to keep from falling over. I felt electric surges of pleasure move its way from my penis to my loins, to my stomach, to my chest and then to my throat. I wanted to cry out in ecstasy. I threw my head back and let out a sigh just as all of the rolling waves of pleasure met and peaked.

I shot my load into his mouth. He held me there with his hands on my butt and sucked down all of my semen, gently sucking again and again until the waves of ecstasy began to recede and my cock began to go limp.

That was a millennium class blowjob!!

He pulled back and my cock popped out of his mouth. He leaned his head back, licked his lips, looked at me and smiled.

“That, my friend, is what got me through three years of prison with perks. I did it good and they loved it. I had all that I needed there.”

He leaned further back, his butt resting on his heels, and flexed one enormous bicep. “No one would mess with me because of these—see? They knew I could break ‘em in two. But sucking cock got me all the goodies.” He laughed a mellow laugh. “All the goodies….and I loved it!”

I didn’t know what to say. Should I thank him? Act shocked? Be pissed off? I just didn’t know. He must have figured out that I was non-plussed. He said, “Hey, man! It’s cool. No strings. I just wanted a cock to suck that’s all. Thanks.”

I mumbled, “Hey, dude. Yeah! I mean it’s cool. Like you say…cool.” I turned and walked down the hall back to my bedroom to shower, shave, and get ready for work. I resisted the impulse to look over my shoulder.

So why am I telling you all this? This is just such a weird situation that I’ve got to tell someone! I know you understand. At least I hope you understand, anyway.

O.K. gotta go. I’ll let you know what happens with the “girls”.

From: "Doug.xxxx”

To: "Bobbie,yyyyyy"

Sent: Saturday, August 17, 2002 11:16 AM

Subject: The girls….and

Get ready for this. Last night was a trip! Get yourself a cup of tea, print out a hard copy of this, and just sit back in your chair and read on. You are going to go nuts.

I finished work early on Friday and rushed home to get ready for the evening. Gary wasn’t there when I got home. He had said something that morning about meeting Dirk to finalize the deal on his new apartment. And he knew I would be out on a date tonight. Anyway, I took a quick shower, put on some “smell good”, and got into my “Friday go to dinner clothes”.