1.
Cory watched the flakes drift somberly through the window of his first floor apartment, thinking to himself how cold and lonely each of them was. There was just three days until Christmas, the holiday he despised over all others. The season always reminded him of the painful fact that followed him around all his life: he was alone. His father had never been around, and since his mother passed four years ago, he'd spent his holidays alone, cooped up in his apartment, usually watching some ridiculous movie that was as far away from the notion of Christmas as he could get.
He turned from the window back to his studio apartment, is disarray, the way it usually was. His mattress sat on the ground against the far wall next to the kitchen, and in-between his toes and the sheets were a series of piles of clothes, some dirty, some clean. He hadn't the chance to sort them. Or, rather, he hadn't the drive.
The depression was so severe that it crept into every nook and cranny of his life. Where he stood, staring over his assorted mess, he was nude. His smooth, slender body glistened with a sheen of sweat from some rigorous activities. Moments before, he had been lying on his bed, with his eyes shut tightly and his mind focused on whatever thought might conjure erotic pleasure. He'd imagined a man, with a broad chest and meaty hands wrapping around his hips and pulling his ass into him. He moaned while he fantasized about being pinned to his mattress, the man grinding himself atop him. He pictured the way the man's forearms would appear, thick and muscular where they were planted beside his head.
And yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn't manage to raise his member. In the aftermath, he stared angrily down at it, drooping beneath him, still semi-erect, but nonetheless useless. All he'd wanted this Monday afternoon was to masturbate and fall asleep, letting the sad thoughts of his loneliness drift into some quiet recess of his mind while the hours slipped away. Instead, he was unable to finish.
"You bastard," he said, staring down at it.
He could still feel it, the pulsating tingle of an impending erection. It was only a tease, however, and no amount of tugging, rubbing, or pillow humping managed to fully raise it.
"I'm twenty one years old, this is ridiculous," he said to himself, collapsing onto his back with his palms covered over his eyes. He rolled to his side on the aged mattress, placing his hands beneath his head as a pillow. "It's just not fair."
He shut his eyes and remained there for a stretch of time. Sleep never came, but his consciousness did wane enough to find himself in a number of different half-dreams. In one, he found himself walking through a mall, naked, while all the customers stared at him like some freakshow. In another, he was back in high school, back in the city, hiding in the gym from the boys who called him names. He hid under the bleachers while he listened to them hunt, calling out to him, "Come here, queer Cory! Come out to play!" Instead, he crept further back into the shadows beneath the bleachers until his hands met with something fleshy. His breath caught in the back of his throat while he turned to find the man from his fantasy. The man grinned while his big hand wrapped beneath Cory's jaw and caressed his soft cheek. While the bullies called out to him, the man guided his wet, red lips downward. On hands and knees, Cory bobbed his head while the man reached down to slip him out of his shorts, exposing his round ass. The man's thick finger ventured between the warm cheeks and slithered inside.
Cory bolted upright in bed, fully awake. He rubbed sweat from his forehead, then caught a glimpse of his cock. His mouth opened in astonishment. He was hard.
He immediately seized himself, wrapping his fingers around it and stroking. He bit into his bottom lip while he used his hips to help his effort, pumping himself forward. When he felt his was close, he mouth opened and he gasped. Then...
Nothing. He couldn't finish. And now he was left with a hardon so stiff he felt he could faint. He groaned, throwing himself back onto the bed. "This just isn't fair," he said.
His head turned to the side, watching the snow continue to drift through the midday sunlight. His window looked out to a small yard in the center of the apartment complex. Other units were visible across the way, and to the left and right. Probably vacant, he thought to himself, off to see their families and friends. The complex itself was at the edge of town, nearer the university, and therefore served a lot of the students. Cory was not a student, instead working nights at the gay bar on the outskirts of campus.
He looked down at his cock. Red, hard, and un-climaxable. It wasn't going away. "Unbearable," he muttered to himself. He peered out into the yard again, and a thought crossed his mind. The snow. He shook his head, dismissing it, but it crept back. He thought about stuffing his bare cock into the snow for just a moment, long enough to numb the damn thing and keep it from making him so horny.
He groaned. "I can't," he said aloud, as if convincing himself not to go through with it. Then, he thought, what else could he do? Keep trying to sleep, then wank, then sleep, never really doing either? "Fine," he said to himself.
He walked up to his sliding door, looking out onto the fresh, white powder growing by the minute from the collecting snowfall. "Just a moment, no one will see," he said.
His thumb found the lock behind the handle and flipped it up, unlocking the door. He gently eased it back and felt the cool winter air rush over his sweaty body. He shivered instantly, but could still feel the intense heat in his cock.
He poked his head out and stared around the edge of the yard, to each of the units. He didn't find a single one that appeared lit inside. That was a good sign. He took his first step out into the snow. His bare foot sunk into its cold wetness, but it wasn't as shocking as he anticipated. He found the second step much easier, and then he was outside.
Suddenly, he felt extraordinarily self-conscious. He was completely naked with a raging hard on outside in the middle of winter. It felt crazy. "Fuck it," he said, and continued walking. Once he was a few feet from his sliding glass door, he dropped to his knees and felt the cold rush of the snow surge up into his body. "Shit," he cursed. But he was determined to do what he set out to do. He dropped down onto his hands, all fours, in the snow. For a moment he felt rather sexual, like he were presenting himself, but the thought was quickly dashed by the purpose of the moment. He had to get rid of his erection.
He slowly lowered himself into the snow and felt the cold surface as his tip pierced it. He immediately pulled back, instinctively protecting his member. "Damnit, Cory."
Then a noise distracted himself from behind. His eyes widened and his breath paused. He twisted his head back over his shoulder to see if his worst fears came true. His vision scanned over the doors, finding all of them vacant. All, except for one.
To the right of his open door, two down, was a second open door. In it stood a man, leaned against the frame, with a festive sweater, jeans, and a mug of something hot that gave steam rolling off into the air beneath his pointed nose. He was a large man, but not fat, burly might have been the word that came to Cory's mind had it not been reeling in fear. The deep brown eyes of the man stared directly into Cory's blues, then panned along his bare back to his prominently featured plump, white ass as it rose behind him.
"Oh, god," Cory muttered as his hand slipped and his body fell into the snow. He struggled against the slippery ground to get back to his feet. When he finally did, he assumed his legs would start a sprint towards his open door. He believed his body would seek shelter and privacy and a stiff drink in the wake of the embarrassing encounter. He thought that he would want to forget this ever happened. Instead, his body froze.
His blonde hair laid wet and tousled atop his head. His legs parted beneath him and his cock remained stiff. Like a deer in headlights, all he could manage was to stare into the entrancing brown stare of the man with his coffee staring back. He felt a tingle race across his flesh, like tiny pricks stabbing him, but his cock continued to surge. He felt his member stiffen even more than it had before he tried stuffing it into the snow. As his mind spun, he realized he was turned on.
"Oh, no," he whispered breathily as he felt something sweep over him. It was the familiar moments just prior to coming, when the pit of his stomach fell deeper, and blood rushed to his lower body, where he could feel his cock and his ass acutely. He clenched his butthole and felt the tenseness at the base of his penis. "No, no, no," he said to himself, though the approaching ecstasy was screaming yes.
He bit into his lower lip as the tense feeling moved up his shaft to his tip, which began to clench, then release. It burst forth, first in one, thick spurt, shooting white cream into the white snow, then in several more spurts, followed by a prolonged, steady trickle that dripped along the length of his cock. The mere presence of the man watching him had sent him over the edge.
