Male Bonding- Part II
EXISTENTIALISM
The twentieth century introduced a philosophical movement embracing an analysis of the idea that the plight of an individual must assume ultimate responsibility for his acts of free will without any certain knowledge of what is right or wrong or good and bad. And while some men went to confession without instructions following to make things right with a man he did wrong but only, my chance meeting a man who was sin in saint's attire had me wondering how. As for dropping a few coins on the way out of church, who knew where that went any more than why this hunk of a stud said to me every time we passed in the corridor, "get'n any lately?" It didn't matter whether we passed one another somewhere between the door that leads to the place where I work, the elevator, or the men's room. Then upon learning that this man comes all the way from the ground floor to use the men's room on the fourth story was as interesting as finally learning that everyone calls him "Gauge." Right or wrong, good or bad, and assuming responsibility for myself, I was ready for this young man to gauge my temperature with his thermometer either down my throat or inserted deeply up my ass hole. And once that opportunity should come my way and I had the courage to ask a few questions, perhaps he would never confess what I asked him to do as well as his willingness to comply dictated his responsibility for his own actions. Also, there was no way I wanted to get caught in gratifying my free will and thus perhaps jeopardize my job until good news came without asking. That's when I learned that this man called "Gauge" helps his dad operate a combination take-out pizza restaurant and a bakery specializing in made-to-order cakes that got started in the basement when Gauge was a boy and is still progresses there.
Was it my ultimate responsibility for not knowing what's right or what's wrong or the inevitability of Gauge's own free will? "See no evil. Hear no evil," and "Say no evil," was now kids' stuff when I arrived at the men's room and found Gauge already there and alone. Fearing no evil and making use of the philosophy as regards assuming responsibility for myself and Gauge's so far free will with his asking me if I was "get'n any lately," I was at the urinal immediately beside the one he was using and yielding to temptation by holding his gage, representative of the world's greatest sexual endowment, before he shook off the last few drops. Now I was getting a taste of what I interpreted as "get'n any lately," and to prove my sense of innocence, Gauge made no effort to stop me. And as for mentioning the family business downstairs, I was now holding an entire uncut pepperoni for pizza while hoping we two might stir up a two-layer cake later.
I knew that Gauge had either been a gung-ho athlete in school or worked out for hours on a daily schedule at the local men's gym and fitness center. But with seeing the crotch on his tight pants in the hall suggested that he left his jock strap on after the workout sessions and all his family jewel were compacted into the tight pouch. So, like feeling the bat before warming up for the first pitch, his cock began to grow in both length and girth before I had to turn loose upon the arrival of another visitor to the men's room. Then I assumed that Gauge was attempting to cover over the incident in progress when the other unexpected visitor came in, he said just after he zipped up and began to leave, "you do plan to come up and see my mountain cottage by the natural spring creek?" Although the new arrival had another invitation in view before I decided to leave, I was more interested in learning where Gauge's cottage is located and how to get there than chancing another "see no evil," or 'get'n any lately," not to mention "your sins will find you out," Grandma used to remind me. Of course, I was aware at a very young age that Grandpa kept in touch with his progress up to a ripe old age with a gadget he called a 'peter meter.'
Known as both a devoted worker and one who never hesitates to get a job done right and on time, I was as anxious for four o'clock to come, meaning I'm free for the remainder of the weekend as locating Gauge to learn how to get to his mountain cottage. Once down the elevator as far as it goes in the Grand Plaza Trade Building, my nose led me the rest of the way. And if the very inviting smells of pizzas baking and fresh cakes ready to come from the oven were not enough to make me pleased that I had found the right place, following Gauge's Papa Pisano's directions and finding Gauge naked in the private toilet was my serving of pizza and slice of cake standing there and looking into my wide-open eyes! "Why go all the way to the mountain cottage when all the fun's right here," was as simple as why all the things baked at the Pisano are for carryout and no tables for sitting to eat inside. In the back of my mind, "I was free to do what I chose for the entire weekend," and upon hearing Gauge say that "since I helped my dad to get this business off the ground a few years back, I can come and go at will!" to my prurient mind, the interpretation of "come" meant other the verb used, and "will," I was hoping meant Gauge's free choice in determining what's right or wrong or what's good and bad.
Yielding to temptation again came as easily as Gauge's permitting me to suck as much of his cock as I could manage to get into my mouth. And to add extra toppings to a giant pizza was when Gauge's fingers begged for a eat-in order with his finger up my ass hole. While my temperature was rising from more than the heat from the kitchen ovens, I was ready for the only son of the pizza and cake man to check out my vital statistics anywhere he might choose! Never arguing with a registered nurse or medical doctor before and trusting their professional judgement, Gauge permitted me to keep sucking until the meal was ready for taking out. Just before the icing on the cake had time to decorate my overanxious salivary glands, here came a delivery truck up my rear loading door as if this were no more than common practice, a man's own knowledge of what's right or wrong, and at the same time perhaps a preview of what to expect at the mountain cottage.
Part II Existentialism in Town Versus Freudian Psychology in the Mountains
A man's free choice for ultimate responsibility was now acts of freewill without knowledge of what's right and what's wrong. Since my having to stop to piss brought on by both anticipation and a free drink before we left the bakeshop, Gauge was already there when I arrived at the mountain cottage. And if my finding him naked in the business' private toilet was not more than enough to make a straight man want to go astray from his self-claimed sexual orientation, seeing Gauge naked again and this time with his body spread out on a fur rug before a fireplace made me feel guilty that I had wasted time with the emergency stop. Sensing that the temperature in the mountains is much lower than in town and especially late in the day, perhaps that was the real reason I felt the need to stop and piss as now it proved the differences in climate with Gauge having a fire lit in the fireplace. I felt like a little boy's coming to visit Santa Clause instead of the other way around, while the guest host was doing more than toasting chestnut on an open fire.
"What you waiting for, man," were Gauge's welcoming words as soon as I was inside with the door closed behind me to shut out the chilly air. "Take it all off," he added, "and make the best of freedom while it's available!"
It seemed to me that this last comment accented both of his words, 'freedom' and 'available.' While I took the freedom to remove everything including shoes, socks, and underwear, I also took for granted that Gauge's body was available for me to use it as my own responsibility for my own actions. Now I was that little boy standing at the window of a toy store, trying to decide between a balloon-like inflatable toy that grows longer and fatter when inflated to play with or a split over-stuffed bolsters that open up wider when penetrated. While this was 'push come to shove,' my freedom of choice was suggesting taking real advantage of Gauge's favorite welcome, "get'n any lately?" This did not mark the first time I had fucked another man, but who the hell bothers to compare a store-bought toy with a man-made private creation? With Gauge's legs spread wide as he lay on the white fur rug, his cock was pressed downward and its head toward his feet, growing in length and girth with each pushup like maneuver my already cum-leaking cock brought him relief. Not only could I sense that he got off at the same time I did, the proof was between my balls and his puffed-up exploding cock and a little evidence resting on the fur rug that brought us very close to a mutual understanding of what's right and what's wrong! Why pay to come to see the circus when the free parade advertising marches down Main Street? And why go to a movie when two men are busy with creating the plot to their own feature of all times?
Much like a more modern toy that uses an electric motor like a toy train, there was no need to wind him up again since Gauge's automatic insatiable hunger for sex now had me flipped over as if no more than a scaled down locomotive on a toy train as he fucked me much like I had assumed until now he often suggested with, "get'n any lately?" Was he the selfish type and not wanting someone else to play with his toy while feeling free to share the other's private toy? Put it like this: what difference does it make if a boy's long wished for train has a whistle or a stack that really puffs smoke when my ass hole was as hot as a bellowing locomotive and my exploding cock from the excitement was adding more fuel? Before the train needed to stop and take on either more water to keep up steam or coal to fuel its furnace, I found myself on my hands and knees in a doggy position while Gauge fucked me again as if this game might go out of style with the invention of a more modern toy!
Well, just as all good things must eventually come to an end, Gauge did let me fuck him again before he suggested that perhaps we needed a break for food. Anyone's guess is as good as mine if thinking the refrigerator and freezer in the kitchen were loaded with Italian food, especially pizza. And my trying to shower before the food either thawed before cooking or the defrosted and/or unfrozen made it into the oven, "was it warm running water that made if feel better than on the rug in the den with the open fireplace?" I was asking myself when I felt Gauge's cock up my ass the moment the curtain opened for a repeat performance. This time it not only went deeper than the trials and errors in the den, it seemed that I was feeling it as if moving through my body and forcing itself inside my own erect cock. The instant he began to shoot extremely deep inside me, my cock was like a steady instead of intermittent echo after echo of the soothing impressions he was presenting to the very depths of my innermost self! Each spurt from Gauge's soldier's battle helmet my puffed-up toy military rifle matched as if the two were one and one for all was the battle cry! "I must go down to the sea again and watch the ships go by" was at this moment of memories too precious ever to forget when as if a part of one another, we were in unison as if sharing the same instrument in one great climactic cessation! Was I "get'n any lately?" How about more than ever, more than needed, but still begging for more!
Frozen before thawed and baked pizza never tasted better, or was it the accidentally spilled on purpose tomato sauce I saw landed on the head of Gauge's hard again penis and I got down to lick off? Like mixing business with pleasure, we two took a break halfway through dinner and did a sixty-nine on the kitchen floor while the radio in his bedroom room came on from the set alarm and blasted out, "Who's making love to your old lady while I'm making love to you?" And while that added wider open mouths with the smile it brought, the tune that followed was more like our own philosophical moment of truth versus fiction with, "We'll build a world of our own." Man is capable of making music with the basics of life and transfiguring the most simple into the finest things in life. And as for an adequate preposition, 'in,' 'up,' 'inside,' 'beside,' or 'under' any circumstances fit this perfect match between a man with an office job and the son of a pizza man! 'Hung up' referred to dogs and telephones. 'Get down' meant don't let that fur-shedding pussy get on my lap! And 'have it your way' was another way for saying 'we belong to each other!'
Gauge explained the absence of condoms with "I knew you are as safe as a brick shithouse in a hailstorm from the first time I saw you standing at the urinal on the fourth floor of Grand Plaza Trade Center." And while I was thinking but not saying, "and I know why you chose to use the men's room on the fourth floor rather than one on the ground level," what does it matter where two men choose to share a pizza or to make out on a rug in front of an open fireplace instead of a more comfortable bed? While 'existentialism' more than suggests 'having being in time and space,' perhaps time did control when I needed to return to work,' but all evidence pointed to the probability that two young men were very likely soon to share the same space! There is that once-in-a-lifetime unexpected heart-felt ecstasy of the moment too precious for words to describe, and any effort to do so would rob a part of its existential passionate, fervent, and undistorted truth of indescribable transfiguration, somewhat resembling a magnificent metamorphosis.
This is far more an example of male bonding as it also attempts to describe the many things men have in common and are either reluctant to admit, fear general society's failure to accept as standard, or the inability to see things clearly because some still choose to look at life though a dark glass from the past. Gauge thought of me as being as safe as a brick shithouse in a hailstorm. But whatever the weather might bring in the future, I will always have a man built like a brick shithouse sharing his life with me!
Message or moral of this story, should it need one:
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Why use the men's room in the basement when a ride on the elevator presents more and better challenging upstairs?
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Why spend the long-time saved earning for a commercial vacation when there's a nice free cottage in the mountains?
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And as far as "don't leave home without it" credit card suggestion, all the credit needed in this once-in-a-lifetime situation is that existentialistic idea of deciding between what is right and what is wrong and what is good and what is bad. And what could possibly be a better approach to understanding this philosophy than two men arriving at the same conclusion!
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And should the entire world agree that nothing's stronger than solid steel, ignorance will always stand behind a man's failure both to fully appreciate or to understand the wealth on male bonding!
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And a reminder of the real truth in the philosophy scribbled in graffiti by the young man who did not graduate with his class by flunking a course in math: "there is no gravity" when the issue is one man failure to agree with another man, and perhaps life, itself would be much better and with less population than food to feed if "the whole world sucks!"
By: De Bu hede1933@earthlink.net