A Change of Plans

2018-10-26

deorumetmonstra

“ A r e y o u a l r i g h t , f e l l a ?”

looked up, my eyes struggling to focus on the outline of a man stood in

front of

me. I plastered on a friendly smile and did my best not to slur my words.
“I’m

fine matey, yeah. You?”

“Too much to drink?” he asked, a

chuckle in his voice.

I laughed

exaggeratively. “Something like that”.

He sat

next to me on the bench and waved something at me, barely perceptible in

the

darkness. “You smoke?” I took a cigarette from the box he offeree. “How
did you

end up here at this time of night?”

My head was swimming, I tried to

organise my thoughts to form a coherent chain of events. I had been to a

mate’s

house for a session, h is other half was away. We did a shot of G and he had

just slammed me when his other half text to say he was five minutes from
home –

he’d missed his flight or train or something. Yes. In spite of the powerful
rush

I had dressed, collected up my belongi ngs and left in the space of just a
few

minutes. I had crossed the street to the park opposite and sat on the
nearest

bench. And here I was. The rush had passed but the G had kicked in, 2.5ml a
strong

one for me. I felt heavy.

 I regaled him with my daring

escape and half -hearted get-away in a very matter of fact way, being
painfully up-front

and caring little what he thought. The anonymity of the dark night combined

with the effects of the slam made me bold. “What about you? What are you
doing

h e r e ?”

“Out drinking with my mates, was

just walking home, saw you sat here.”

“ A g o o d S a m a r i t a n , e h ?”

He chuckled, it was cute. “Something

like that.” He offered me a light for the cigarette I had been holding in my

h a n d f o r t h e l a s t f i v e m i n u t e s , b u t t h e b r e e ze c a u g h t t h e f l a m e s o I h a d t o
turn

my back on him to light my cigarette.

“No luck with ladies tonight then.”

I teased, turning back, returning the lighter and takin g a long draw on the

cigarette.
 He laughed self -consciously “Nah, quiet

one tonight. Nobody took my fancy.” He sounded young, but whether he was
or not

I couldn’t tell; there was no moon in the sky and no lighting in the park, I

could only see that he was white, average height, average build. Blonde or

m a y b e c r o p p e d , b a l d e v e n . “ S o y o u ’ r e g a y t h e n ?” h e a s k e d

“I’m bi”.

“Oh okay”, he seemed thoughtful. “So

what’re you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. Go home I guess, see

what else is happening tonight.”

“You live nearby?”

“No, and I my have my car. Not

that I can drive yet, obviously.”

“So you’re just gonna wait around

h e r e ?”
 I took the final toke on the

cigarette and flicked it out in front of me. It hit the ground in a plume of
sparks

and died quickly. “Yep, more than likely”. I coughed – his brand of
cigarette was rough. “You

live around here?” I coughed again.

“Yeah close enough.” Something

knocked my forearm and I reached over and felt for the bottle of drink he
was

offering me. “It’s just water, not much left in the bottle, sounds like you

need it.”

“Thanks” I said, gratef ul for the offer.

The bottle felt light, it was just a sip. I removed the lid and knocked it
back

in one go. It didn’t touch the sides. I barely tasted it but it wasn’t water,

it was bitter. “That’s not water”.

“It’s got lemon squash i n it,

sorry”.

It didn’t taste like lemon squash,

but I was grateful for the drink; my throat felt better.

“So do you fuck other guys or do other

guys fuck you?”

What a question. “Depends, mostly

I get fucked by other guys”.

“ W a s y o u r m a t e g o n n a f u c k y o u t o n i g h t ?”

“Yep.” I tried to see more of him

through the darkness, I wondered if he was good looking and decided he

was. I

imagined him sitting there next to me in th e darkness, touching himself

while

we talked about sex. I stopped myself, this guy was being kind I didn’t
wanna

weird him out.

“The drugs make you horny don’t

they.” he seemed to read my mind.

“Proper horny.”
 We sat in silence for a moment and

I felt almost hopeful that something might happen.

“I was meant to get laid tonight,

had a sure thing. Fucks me off when I go home empty handed”. He didn’t
chuckle

cutely this time.

I thought the G had peaked, I’d felt

less disorientated after the cigarette but now I felt heavy again. I realised
I

was mumbling something so I stopped and started again “Home to your right
hand

with you.” I let out a breathy laugh.

“Can’t beat the real thing though

can you”.

“You’re telling me”. I caught

myself rocking slightly and stopped myself, what was going on? I took out
my pack

of smokes, took one out and felt through the darkness for his hand. He took
it.

I took out another, turned my back to light the cigarette and took a drag. I
couldn’t focus on the lit end of my cigarette, it was blurry, like a camera on

auto-focus that can’t find the object. The cigarette was suddenly
unappetising.

I threw it down and sat back.

Sensory

sensations came in waves; the breeze on my face, the taste of the cigarette
on

my lips. The pressure around my wrist, like someone had taken me by the
hand. I

felt my arm extend in his direction and then a symphony of textures in the
palm

of my ha. Warm soft skin, relaxed and supple, and the coarseness of hair.
My

hand was on his bare crotch but I felt like a spectator in my own reality. I

felt him twitch and harden in my hand but it was like it was happening to

somebody else.

“That

wasn’t water, it was just a little GHB.” It didn’t feel like ‘a little’. “It

was meant to go in some girl’s drink tonight but she didn’t put her glass
down”.

He put a hand on mine and began to rub himself with my hand. “Thought I
was

going home empty handed.”

“Don’t

worry about it.” I heard myself say. Don’t worry about it?

“I

a i n ’ t g a y . ” H e w a s h a r d i n m y h a n d n o w , i t f e l t s i za b l e – g i r t h y . H e w a s
solid,

like a Viagra hard -on, but there was a softness to the texture of t he
smooth

skin. He was uncut, I could feel the deep ridge of his wide corona pass
under

the skin.

All

of a sudden my head was in his lap, the stink of sweat and stale piss in my

nostrils. He pulled my head up on his stomach and positioned the tip o f his

dick against my lips. He pushed my head down, wedging his bell end between
my

lips and against my teeth. Opening my mouth felt like a feat, it took every
ounce

of intention and mentally exhausted me. He pushed himself into my mouth to

the

very back of my throat but the angle wasn’t quite right and he couldn’t go
deeper,

but that didn’t stop him trying.

He

got frustrated “fuck sake” he said, more to himself than to me. “Oi”. He

slapped me on the cheek “I thought queers could suck dick”. He p ushed me

off

and I fell to the ground at the foot of the bench with a thud. I felt it,
perhaps

not as harshly as I would have sober, but I felt it. And then I was crawling
on

my hands and knees, I didn’t know how I was doing it but I felt grass under -
hand.

“Mate,

where you going?” he laughed energetically. I felt a foot on my back, my

arms

collapsed and I found myself laid face down on the grass. He turned me
over and

m y h e a d s p u n d i z zi l y . I t r i e d t o o p e n m y e y e s b u t i t w a s l i k e m y b o d y h a d

stopped listening to my brain. My head settled to one side, quelling the

nausea. He sat down beside me, I heard the delicate rustle of a plastic bag

followed by two long snorts from him. He exhaled. “Since you’re on it I

might as

well join you.”

felt the tip of his dick against my lips again. I was on my back, head up, and
he was hunched over me from over my head as if he might 69 with me. I
willed my

mouth to open again and he pushed in firmly, jiggling his hips to position his

dick balls deep in me. His nuts rested over the bridge of my nose, one for
each

eye. I couldn’t breathe, I hadn’t taken enough air. He maintained the

downward

pressure, clamping my head against the grassy ground. The little resistance
I

could muster physically was an insi gnificant expression of the panic in my

mind.

I squirmed, tried to scream, turn my head. Nothing worked.

Finally

he relented and withdrew momentarily, allowing me to catch my breath

before he railed

it back into me. My throat was on fire, my head wa s spinning. I convulsed

and

forced his dick out of my throat along with a thin slurry of liquid vomit.

“Did

you just sick up?” he laughed “You dirty cunt.” He simply lined himself up

again and continued to fuck my mouth.

I
took breaths when I could, when I remembered to breath. The moments
became singular,

disconnected. I didn’t fight it when he turned me onto my stomach, or when

he

pulled down my trousers. He used his fingers to find my pre -lubed hole. He

recoiled slightly at the wetness and might have sniffed his fingers but
seemed

satisfied I was good to go. And I was.

He

went in cold with just a licked hand for lube. The lube I had applied at my

friend’s house was mostly dried out and It felt as though he had razor
blades

on his cock. He was determined, eager. The agony was intolerable. I heard

myself cry out, felt the impact of his fist on my cheekbone. He doubled
down

and wedged himself into me, inch by inch, pushing, stretching. He felt
massive

inside me. The pain was unrelent ing, just when I thought that was it, that
he

couldn’t go any deeper he would push further into my guts by force.

His

breathing was suddenly laboured and I felt him stiffen inside me. The
moment he

was balls-deep inside me he was pumping a load into me. I felt him spasm
repeatedly,
felt the stretch slacken slightly as he went limp. I didn’t expect him to cum

so quick but boy was I glad. It was over. It was hot but it was over. He

massaged his spunk into me with his softening cock, lubing himself w ith his
own

seed and soothing my shocked hole.

He

didn’t say another word. He climbed off, fussed for a moment, and then I
couldn’t

sense him around me anymore. He left me there, face -down and raped on the
grass

– arse out, leaking his DNA. It wasn ’t the night I had planned, but I was

content.