No Matter How Hard You Try

"So- then

he

said

I

should check underneath!" Everyday her voice got a little more annoying.

Rex chose this moment to take a drink of his coffee. He tried to think of something to say- he really did. He checked his watch, not realizing that this was the seventh time he had done so, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Denise, but I have to go."

The pretty blonde across from him sighed in an exasperated sort of way; "What's your excuse this time, Rex?"

He looked at her, the woman he had been dating for the last month, and just could not find it in himself to keep up the charade. "I don't have one. I'm sure you'll find someone better suited to you."

A look of disbelief crossed her face but was quickly replaced by one of indignation. "

You're

dumping me?"

"Yes."

"God, you are

such

a bastard. "

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you, Rex, just leave."

He did. He walked out on the latest of a string of unsatisfying relationships. Rex had dated a grand total of twelve women during his thirty years on Earth. A woman named 'Vanessa' had lasted the longest, nearly a year, and the shortest time went to 'Carla' who lasted a total of nine days.

He walked, in a very distracted manner, towards the subway to make his way back uptown to his office. He made the trip in silence and without making eye contact with anyone. His mind was working furiously dissecting his latest disaster of a relationship. If he had been less distracted he might have noticed the man following him.

On the train he held onto a pole and continued to think about all of his failed relationships. He was justifying every break up. It wasn't

him

it was

them

. He was trying desperately to keep himself convinced he was normal. He often spent his time like this- alone and in deep thought.

Rex was so spaced out, '

She was always nagging, and not on par with me intellectually, we just didn't mesh- damn it!

', that at first he didn't feel the hand on his hip. When the warning bells finally started ringing he stood very still. Suddenly he was hyper aware of his own personal space and tried to convince himself that this invasion was accidental...

but then why would the hand be

under

my trench-coat

?

The fingers that weren't his own moved in a slow circle and all thoughts of accidental touches fled his mind. His breathing became shallow and he tried to see the stranger out of the corner of his eye. There were people close to him on all sides.

It could be any of them

... It was true, it could have been any of the people near him, but it wasn't. It was the man directly behind him. The same man who had followed him from the coffee shop and onto the train.

Rex felt a hardness against his backside and realized it had to be the person directly behind him. The person he couldn't see at all unless he turned completely around. He unconsciously pressed closer, telling himself later that he merely didn't want his whisper to carry, "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?"

"I know you. You're pathetic..." the stranger's answering whisper was low and smoky. His hand slid around to Rex's front and held him close as if the pair might start to slow dance in the grime of the underground.

"Who are you? Get your hands off me!" Rex noted with dismay that he was getting hard. He placed his free hand over the stranger's to keep it from sliding down to his crotch. He was desperately trying to keep his composure.

"You aren't fighting very hard..." The man slowly rocked his hips against Rex's firm ass and was rewarded with a low moan.

"We're in public you fuck..." Even though his hand was still over the stranger's they seemed to be sliding steadily downward and Rex had the uncomfortable thought that he might be leading them there.

"Interesting that you should protest to the location- but not to the fact that a strange man is dry humping you..."

"You said... ah... that I knew.. you.." Rex could feel the flush in his face and wondered how in the hell all the people standing so close to him could not notice he was being raped right next to them.

"Wrong. I said that

I

knew

you

. I'm still a man, Rex..."

"Shut up..." The stranger's strong hand was stroking him through his slacks and Rex had never been so happy to be wearing a long coat in his life.

"You're so hard... you like this, don't you? You like feeling my hard dick up against you."

"St-stop... ah..." Rex's knuckles were white on the support pole and he knew he was very close to climax. He didn't want to cum on the subway surrounded by strangers, but he was going to, and it would be the best orgasm of his life. One might argue it was his first real one.

"I'm gonna follow you home, blind fold you, and then fuck you until you admit how much you love it."

"N-never..." but Rex's body betrayed him. The muscles in his legs spasmed, his breath caught in his throat, and hot cum soaked his boxers. The people around him were completely unaware. They had iPods clipped to their belts, papers held defensively over their faces, and their minds on their own business. They had programmed themselves not to notice the world around them.

The man stayed pressed against him. "It's my turn, Rex, but we can't do that here."

Rex was leaning against his molester and trying to catch his breath. "Fuck you. I'm gonna get off of this train and go to the police."

"And tell them what? That I gave you the most honest pleasure you've ever felt?" The train was trundling to a stop and Rex had no answer for the stranger. "I'm going to get off here- it's not our stop but I want you to think about who you really are."

"What do you mean?" Rex was afraid to turn around. He didn't want to see the stranger's face.

"You've been living a lie, Rex, and you're terrified to admit it. I know- I've been watching you since you transferred here. I work on your floor but I bet you've never even noticed me... when you're ready to open your eyes my name is Eric."

The doors made an odd hydraulic noise and the press of bodies against him shifted and changed. Rex didn't move. He didn't even turn his head. He wasn't ready to look at the person who had seen through everything. He couldn't believe his life and his lies had been shattered so easily.

He didn't go back to work that day, or the next, he simply stayed home. He stared out the window at what he now perceived to be a gray and uncaring city full of hidden land-mines. He cried. He had bouts of rage in which he broke a chair and two lamps- but what scared our hero the most, what he tried the hardest not to think about, was when he found his hand straying to his cock.

He'd crawl under his trench-coat and fantasize of a stranger's hands and hardness pressing against him. He climaxed very quickly- the name "Eric" dying on his lips. After the third time this happened Rex crawled into the bathtub with a bottle of gin. It was 11am on the second day. He drank half of the bottle straight.

It was 11:45am. Rex called the directory at his office and enquired after an "Eric" that worked in the offices on the 23rd floor. There was one. His name was Eric Brannan. The voice on the phone asked if he would like to be connected to Eric; "Yes, please."

"Hello, this is Eric."

"Do you know where I live?"

"..Rex?"

"Do you fucking know where I live or not?"

"Yes."

"Come over."

Eric took in a deep breath. It was obvious that Rex was drunk. "I'm not sure you're ready..."

The voice that answered was small, "please?"

Eric's voice softened in turn; "I'll be there as soon as I can."