I had a friend of mine I used to work with who always told me such
smutty stories, and I adored him for it. Once you start dating someone
your stories become decidedly less bawdy and in effect less interesting by
default. I know if I don't live vicariously through others my stories
will almost certainly consist of mundane domestic bliss and who the fuck
wants to hear that shit? I certainly don't.
It was an early Monday morning when he told me about attending the city's flea market with his boyfriend over the past weekend . Taking notice of an attractive gay man who was cruising him there , he decided to bring his boyfriend all the way back home before immediately turning around and returning to the flea market by himself. Upon hearing this much of the story, I expressed my disapproval .
"You had to go all the way back and forth to that flea market twice? That is such a waste of gas! Your boyfriend is like one-thousand years old - could you not have easily convinced him to take a nap in the car? I mean that is a huge flea market - couldn't you have just left him somewhere to look at a bunch of boring old Civil War shit from his heyday while you went after that trick ?" I asked.
"Well, I just wanted to be able to take my damn time !" he said somewhat extravagantly . " You just never know what's gonna happen next! I mean, look at last week at the gym - I didn't expect to get fucked in the steam room! I figured chances were , I might only get to blow that guy at best! ".
It's true you really never know in life when you are going to get fucked, but most of us don't give it that much thought - we just put on clean underwear each day one leg at a time and hope for the best. Even knowing full well that as a gay man at any flea market you could easily throw a rock and hit some cock ( or is it "throw a stick and hit some dick"? ) I could not help but applaud his confidence in this situation. The thought of transporting an elderly person around was enough to exhaust me to a point of doing literally nothing else with the rest of my day , but then to also bank on the concept of someone that you cruised still having any interest in you a whole hour later was completely unheard of - they surely would have thrown another rock. My ability to believe in my friend was validated when he told me that he did manage to find the stranger at the busy flea market again and then have some sort of mutual masturbation session with him in an out-of-the-way restroom .
"It was so fucking hot !" he exclaimed . "Only thing was , someone had left a half of a hot dog in the urinal and it was hard to keep a boner going whenever I looked over at it. The bun had soaked up a lot of the urine and it just sorta laid there all bloated looking .".
It was with this detail that my memory began to jog back to a much simpler time , when I was about 12 years old and my family had gotten a new refrigerator. Upon moving out the old refrigerator that had predated our time living there , a mysterious object rolled out from underneath it causing me to scream a loud , shrill , high -pitched noise that would generally come out of a woman's mouth in a horror film. Much to our disgust it was an old hot dog that had managed to turn avocado green in it's undetermined time underneath the refrigerator of the same hue. For years I wondered about the green wiener's origin story , one that would keep me pondering what kind of person let's a hot dog roll under a refrigerator and then just leaves it there, and worse yet, does that said - person still reside in this house? It's hard to get something that horrific out of your mind until you begin to imagine someone you know from work trying to jerk off with some swap-meet stranger in a flea market commode with half a hard-on.
I began to feel like he was telling me about the events out of sequence because surely the half eaten hot dog that had found it's way out of a mouth and into a urinal did so after witnessing the events that had transpired between these two men , not before. Still , I did my best to pay attention to the story of two men who shared a moment , were pulled apart by obstacles in their paths and then reunited by destiny only to face an ironic hardship .
"I still busted a nut! We both did!" he said , as his devious smile became wider on his flushed red face , his eyes got noticeably smaller.
Despite the inclusion of a happy ending , or so to speak, all I could think about was that half eaten hot dog with the swollen , urine- soaked bun laying helplessly in the urinal. Was it happy to live vicariously through the actions of others or was it discontent to only function at half of it's capacity? It still managed to appear red, the tint of excitement , while that other wiener , left home for far too long was simply green with envy .
It was an early Monday morning when he told me about attending the city's flea market with his boyfriend over the past weekend . Taking notice of an attractive gay man who was cruising him there , he decided to bring his boyfriend all the way back home before immediately turning around and returning to the flea market by himself. Upon hearing this much of the story, I expressed my disapproval .
"You had to go all the way back and forth to that flea market twice? That is such a waste of gas! Your boyfriend is like one-thousand years old - could you not have easily convinced him to take a nap in the car? I mean that is a huge flea market - couldn't you have just left him somewhere to look at a bunch of boring old Civil War shit from his heyday while you went after that trick ?" I asked.
"Well, I just wanted to be able to take my damn time !" he said somewhat extravagantly . " You just never know what's gonna happen next! I mean, look at last week at the gym - I didn't expect to get fucked in the steam room! I figured chances were , I might only get to blow that guy at best! ".
It's true you really never know in life when you are going to get fucked, but most of us don't give it that much thought - we just put on clean underwear each day one leg at a time and hope for the best. Even knowing full well that as a gay man at any flea market you could easily throw a rock and hit some cock ( or is it "throw a stick and hit some dick"? ) I could not help but applaud his confidence in this situation. The thought of transporting an elderly person around was enough to exhaust me to a point of doing literally nothing else with the rest of my day , but then to also bank on the concept of someone that you cruised still having any interest in you a whole hour later was completely unheard of - they surely would have thrown another rock. My ability to believe in my friend was validated when he told me that he did manage to find the stranger at the busy flea market again and then have some sort of mutual masturbation session with him in an out-of-the-way restroom .
"It was so fucking hot !" he exclaimed . "Only thing was , someone had left a half of a hot dog in the urinal and it was hard to keep a boner going whenever I looked over at it. The bun had soaked up a lot of the urine and it just sorta laid there all bloated looking .".
It was with this detail that my memory began to jog back to a much simpler time , when I was about 12 years old and my family had gotten a new refrigerator. Upon moving out the old refrigerator that had predated our time living there , a mysterious object rolled out from underneath it causing me to scream a loud , shrill , high -pitched noise that would generally come out of a woman's mouth in a horror film. Much to our disgust it was an old hot dog that had managed to turn avocado green in it's undetermined time underneath the refrigerator of the same hue. For years I wondered about the green wiener's origin story , one that would keep me pondering what kind of person let's a hot dog roll under a refrigerator and then just leaves it there, and worse yet, does that said - person still reside in this house? It's hard to get something that horrific out of your mind until you begin to imagine someone you know from work trying to jerk off with some swap-meet stranger in a flea market commode with half a hard-on.
I began to feel like he was telling me about the events out of sequence because surely the half eaten hot dog that had found it's way out of a mouth and into a urinal did so after witnessing the events that had transpired between these two men , not before. Still , I did my best to pay attention to the story of two men who shared a moment , were pulled apart by obstacles in their paths and then reunited by destiny only to face an ironic hardship .
"I still busted a nut! We both did!" he said , as his devious smile became wider on his flushed red face , his eyes got noticeably smaller.
Despite the inclusion of a happy ending , or so to speak, all I could think about was that half eaten hot dog with the swollen , urine- soaked bun laying helplessly in the urinal. Was it happy to live vicariously through the actions of others or was it discontent to only function at half of it's capacity? It still managed to appear red, the tint of excitement , while that other wiener , left home for far too long was simply green with envy .
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