VULNERABLE
Jack Sprat
It was a very low spot in my life. Damn it! Why did all of this come down on me at once? Mom died a couple of years ago. My Dad remarried. His new wife is a bitch who hates me. I had a fender bender with my car which was my fault. My car insurance rates have gone up, and on top of that I got ticketed for a moving violation which caused the accident. Now, I'm getting flak because my grades have dropped. It seemed the world was coming down with no way out. I was very depressed and even contemplating suicide. School was out for another day. All day I'd just sat in class withdrawn, not talking to anyone. I was walking home when a car pulled alongside and honked. It was Jerry Miller.
"Hey, Jeremey! Let me give you a ride home."
I was so damned antisocial I almost ran, but something made me hesitate. The door on the passenger side opened. I climbed in. Jerry gunned the throttle, worked his way through the gears and we were on our way. Jerry sensed my silence.
"Boy! You are Mr. Gloom. Want to tell me what's wrong? You're wound tighter than a guitar string. Want to talk?"
I must have had a real bad scowl on my face. I shook my head wishing I hadn't accepted the ride.
"Tell ya what," Jerry said, "If you're not in any hurry to go home, come on up to my apartment for a drink. Maybe it'll make you feel better."
Jerry had graduated about three years earlier. He had a real good job in a stock brokerage firm and had rented a real nice apartment. The last place I wanted to go was home and have that bitch stepmother get on my case soon as I got in the door. I nodded. "Why not?"
I was still real quiet as we sat at the dining nook table sipping screw drivers. Jerry wasn't prying, just being kind of understanding and patient, letting the silence bide its time. I don't know if it was a natural burst of the dam, or if Jerry had really spiked by drinks, but I burst into tears, lay my head in my arms and cried. I couldn't stop. Jerry moved behind me and massaged my shoulders, deeply kneading my muscles. It felt so good.
"Come on!, have a good cry, let it all out," Jerry said softly. "It's the best thing you can do." He handed me a paper napkin so I could blot my tears.
I sobbed out my whole story about my current bad luck and the fact that I was expecting another unhappy two years living with my dad and stepmother and how unbright the future seemed. I even told him about my thoughts of suicide.
Jerry took my by the hand, stood me up, turned me toward him and made eye contact. He hugged me tightly. His warm body felt good. He put his lips against mine and kissed me while running his fingers through my hair.
I'd never kissed a man, but I badly needed body contact and love. I returned his kiss. At the this moment the male gender made no difference.
Jerry ran his hand down to my crotch. I found myself pushing my body to his hand. What was happening? I didn't know. I clung to him and instigated the next kiss then I started to sob again.
"We're going to the bedroom," Jerry said softly.
I docily followed him down the hallway ready to give my body for the caring and touch which I so badly craved. Jerry would take my virginity.
I stripped, and Jerry hurriedly undressed. My penis was erect. I moaned as his hand massaged in my crotch.
Jerry crawled on the bed and we snuggled as if we were one. We kissed while his warm hand rubbed and fondled my balls and erection. I spread my legs wider. Every inch He moved down and I felt the wetness and warmness of his mouth on my penis. All fires of love and sensation raced through me as his tongue moved about my most sensuous area. I climaxed, pumping spurt after spurt of pent up jism into his mouth. When it was over, Jerry's hands gently massaged my whole body and I sobbed with this relief.
I never had gay sex again. However, for the time, the place, the situation,
and my mental state of mind, I was vulnerable. The encounter was most
theraputic..
The End.