Commitment Issues

by Wynn Wagner

"Temporary setup?"

  "No, the manager said it could be as permanent as you want it to be. It's closer to Janie's home, so she's happy to make it permanent."

  "And you guys just worked out everything?"

  "Chico and Janie Marroquin and Ronnie, mainly. I just stood around."

  "You're decorative, Wyatt. You don't have to be functional."

  But he was functional. Wyatt took about ten minutes getting me undressed. I still had bandages on my face and hand and foot. He was gentle in all the right places, and he took extra time at different strategic locations. Getting my pants unzipped must have taken five minutes. His tongue had a little trouble with the snap, but his mouth got the zipper down in no time. He pulled my pants and underwear down with his hands on my sides.

  "Wow,” I said. “But can I be doing some of that to you?"

  He was out of his clothes in about ten seconds without my help.

  "Let me look at you,” I said as he stood on the bed in front of me. Slowly, he sank to his knees, one knee near each of my armpits. With his palms on the wall over the bed, he slowly moved that thick rod closer and closer. I wasn't sure that I could take the width without gagging, but I really wanted to try.

  "You okay with this?” he asked.

  I reached up behind his beautiful thighs and pulled him closer. It was the first time that I was able to hold that wonderful dimpled ass. It was the first time that I was going to have him completely inside my mouth. He is so cute. I mean, every part of this man has some new treasure. Soft and smooth. I could feel his balls hanging between his legs, but I wanted to pull his butt closer. He didn't fight me and let me be in complete control. Wyatt knew that others had gagged on his cock, so he made sure that I was in control.

  Sweet juice on the tip. Uncut, but not so much foreskin to hide the entire tip. Just perfect—and delicious. I let my tongue run inside his foreskin, and that made him groan. I know that's really tender for somebody with foreskin. I also know that the tip of an uncut dick is mega-sensitive, so I kept my tongue completely off his tip.

  I pulled, and Wyatt didn't hold me back. He let me guide him.

  "Mmmm,” he said as I reached around to hold his balls. It was wonderful. He tasted so good. There was a little hair, but he was mainly smooth. Pubes for sure, but not much body hair. Some guys like body hair—hell, I like body hair—but Wyatt was absolute perfection. I didn't want him to have more hair than he had. It was a total package.

  His balls were so smooth in my palm. His dick was like a silken rod. It was hard but supple. I could squeeze a little on his foreskin and hold it still while I pulled on his butt. He moved his dick in and out inside his foreskin. I didn't even know you could do that.

  "You better be careful,” Wyatt said. “Much more of this and I'm going to shoot down your throat."

  I pulled him closer so he knew that I wanted him to give me his cum.

  "You sure?"

  I pulled on his butt, and he took the hint. His rod was in my mouth, but it wasn't a blow job. He was making love to my mouth, and it was so gentle and loving. Wyatt wasn't just doing it to get his rocks off. My head was pinned against the bed, and I couldn't really assist. Wyatt knew that I was okay with some pumping, but he never rammed himself as far inside as he could. I hadn't gagged, not once, not even when his pubes were flat against my lip. I could take his whole rod in my mouth without any problem, and I loved every inch of it. He finally learned that and relaxed.

  Wyatt started pumping a little more as I did my best to keep my teeth out of his way. He was so gentle. Too gentle, maybe. I wanted more, but I knew he was afraid to hurt me. We could settle our boundaries later. We had years to do that.

  It was my first taste of Wyatt. When I looked up at him, I saw that he was lost somewhere in the pleasure of the moment. We were one being, not two men. His glorious stomach and chest were above me.

  "Mmmm,” he hummed. “I'm—"

  And I felt him fill my mouth with cum. His dick bulged at its base as my tongue felt his load traveling to the tip. Once. Twice. And once more. I actually felt him shooting. I felt each eruption moving through his rod. It was almost like a bulb of gism moved inside his dick, almost slow motion. My lips felt a bulge and then my tongue tasted the result. Wow.

  Wyatt gave me the most intimate gift he had. It was one man in love with another, and I could tell he was completely in love with me. He made love to my mouth and filled my throat with cum.

  He tried to pull out, but I held him tight until he was soft.

  "Babe,” Wyatt said softly.

  "Sorry,” I said as I released my hands. What a wonderful and smooth body.

  "I love you,” he whispered into my ear as he slid to my right side. It had been well over a year since I had first met this man and almost that long since I knew I was in love with him. The taste of him in my mouth was well worth the wait. He put one arm under my waist and wrapped his other arm around my stomach. He pulled me close as his tongue traced the outer edge of my ear.

  He knew that I was okay with not shooting. Having him cum was more than enough orgasm for me, but this time I had. When he reached down to my rod, he found it surrounded by a white mess. That was a first. I had cum while being fucked in the ass, but I had never shot while a guy had his rod in my mouth. It was such an intense feeling that I don't know exactly when I shot, and that was an awkward place to be. How could a guy shoot and not know about it? When Wyatt and I made love, it was more intense than my orgasm.

  "Is there anything stronger than love?” I asked as I turned to give him a kiss.

  "Don't think so, but you and Janie know more about words. Want me to call her?"

  "Touch the phone and die,” I said. “I'm just sayin'...."

  My tongue probably still had his essence when I explored his mouth. He grinned, and he laughed. He pulled my waist as close as he could. We held each other for an hour as we kissed and explored each other's body.

  The heel of his right hand was at the base of my dick, and his palm was draped over my balls. I felt his fingers in my crack. It was that wonderful and assuring way of showing me that he loves me. He could keep his hand there for hours so far as I'm concerned. It wasn't just words but a gesture that needed no sound to be complete. Nobody had ever held me like that.

  He raised up on an elbow. His right hand stayed in place, so I was in heaven.

  "I dreamed about you last night,” he said.

  "Good?"

  "Amazing. We were in a park on some kind of picnic. Janie Marroquin was there too."

  "Doing what?"

  "Typing on a laptop. I don't know. She never said anything. She was just there."

  "She was probably writing about our picnic to use on the radio,” I said.

  "The bastard,” Wyatt laughed. “I should get a cut if she was doing that. Anyway, we were suddenly not there. I mean, you and I were still together, but we had been transported somewhere. It looked creepy."

  "Janie Marroquin?"

  "No, just you and me,” Wyatt said.

  "No, was it Janie Marroquin that looked creepy?"

  "It was where we were. We were in this room with lots of blinky things, lights, whatever. There was a lesbian couple there too."

  "Oooo, that's creepy alright."

  "One said she was Edith, and I heard her call the other one Catherine or something."

  "Isn't that your sister's name?"

  "No, same—similar name—but it wasn't her. So I was scared. You were scared. The lesbians looked pissed."

  "Nothing worse than an angry dyke, you know."

  "Tell me about it. So we were there for hours. I found a little window and looked out and saw that planet Earth was way off in the distance. We were up in some spacecraft. It was just us and the lesbians, and then in walked this really gross-looking fish thing with hairy legs who spoke English with an Indian accent. It sounded like the fish learned how to speak by calling technical support for a cell phone or computer."

  "The fish spoke."
>
  "Yeah, but with an Indian dialect or accent or something. He was a chain-smoker too, but he smoked something grown on his home planet or in the back end of his spaceship."

  "And the lesbians?"

  "No, they didn't smoke or have an Indian accent."

  "I mean, what did they do?"

  "They weren't surprised to be there, which you and I figured was scary. The four of us were standing around. Now that I think of it, I don't know why we weren't floating, but we weren't. There was gravity on the spacecraft or something. The fish told us that he and the others with him were an intergalactic expeditionary force."

  "He used big words like that?"

  "Yeah, cool dream,” Wyatt said.

  "They teach fish well in India."

  "Whatever. Anyway, the fish with his hairy legs said they were responding to an emergency call from planet Earth. They figured out that television waves were just being received by the rest of the intelligent universe. They had been watching and saw all our police chases and world wars. They couldn't understand how people on such a beautiful planet could be so hateful to each other.

  "They said the rest of the universe was particularly disturbed by how badly we treated the planet. The fish were ashamed of what humans had been doing to each other and to our home. Everybody was worried that we were about to expand beyond our home planet, and that is why the fish were sent. They said that they had been sent by whatever authority was in charge of the galaxy to clean up the planet. The fish expedition was in contact with their main base, and everybody decided that the earth needed to be cleansed. Every human was to be exterminated. They said that they had meters that could track such things as virility and love."

  "They have a kind of long-distance meter that finds fertile humans?"

  "Yup, wild and horny and fertile and ready to repopulate. The dream wasn't specific about how they did it. They just discovered that we were really fertile. But they also wanted to find peaceful couples who could repopulate the planet and guarantee that there would be better stewardship of the environment. They said it was nothing personal, but they had to keep the rest of the galaxy safe. Everybody had voted that Earth was a dangerous planet that was about to export hatred and terror throughout the universe."

  "What did that have to do with us?"

  "Well, the fish told us that they had identified two subspecies of humans. I'd say they discovered gay men and lesbians, but they thought we were two subspecies. They found that the two couples scored highest on all their measurements, and they were almost giddy that the top two couples included both subspecies. We were more in love with each other than anybody else on Earth. As individuals, we were all very horny. And they found that we all would be thoughtful caretakers of the environment. They figured that they had everything covered with the two couples."

  "Oy."

  "And so the fish plucked the four of us from the surface of the Earth. You and I were under arrest somewhere in Texas because we were queer, and the governor insisted on a trial before we were lynched. The fish told us that they would be killing all the other humans some way. I don't know how exactly. But once all the humans were dead, they'd transport us back to the surface and leave."

  "Couple of problems."

  "Just a couple?"

  "Yeah,” I said. “You would have a lot of bodies to bury. They were going to kill so many people that we wouldn't have time to repopulate anything."

  "But...."

  "Were the fish going to check back? Because they'd come back to find that having two horny gay men and two wild lesbians weren't going to repopulate anything."

  "It's a dream,” Wyatt said. “I didn't say it was logical. All I know is it was Edith and Cate, and it was you and me. And we were all picked by the fish to be the two couples who would repopulate the Earth. When you protested and tried to get them to save all the people, they thought you were so cute. I agreed with their assessment, by the way."

  "They didn't understand we were all gay?"

  "No,” he said. “Either they didn't get that, or they figured it didn't matter. I think they would have been okay if the whole planet reverted back to forest and jungle."

  "Okay, and were the girls okay with the arrangement?"

  "Yeah, they seemed to be. One said she was bisexual. I told her it was going to be an uphill battle to get you hard enough to impregnate a woman."

  "Uphill battle?” I laughed. “Fucking impossible, if you ask me."

  "The fish never asked anybody. They just went ahead and killed all the people on the Earth. When their instruments showed that the surface was safe for the four of us, they put us back down. Oh, and their instrumentation looked like angel hair pasta. They transported us to a beach near Miami, and we moved into adjoining estates. There were plenty of oranges to eat. The lesbians were vegans. You threw a fit at the thought of giving up meat, and the ladies thought it might be dangerous if you started eating too much fish. They were afraid that the space travelers might be watching, and they'd object to your diet. They were fish."

  "But the space fish had hairy legs,” I suggested.

  "Yeah, it was gross. But that's when I woke up."

  "That's it?"

  "You shouldn't have nudged me awake so soon,” he laughed.

  "Was it a nightmare or a dream?"

  "Maybe a little of both,” Wyatt said with a laugh. “It was weird, and I never had a dream like that."

  "I don't dream,” I said.

  "Sure you do. You just don't remember."

  "So we were living in adjoining estates with a couple of lesbians."

  "Edith and Cate, yup."

  "And I was supposed to hump the girls until we built up the population?"

  "That's what the fish said."

  "It's a nightmare."

  Wyatt shrugged.

  "No, wait,” I said. “Write it all down, and we'll get some help from Janie Marroquin. Let's turn it into a script."

  "Science fiction?"

  "I can see it as a hit at all the gay film festivals. It would be how you personally got both of the lesbians pregnant because I couldn't get hard around them. The ex-gay movement would be proud of how the gay guy saved the whole world."

  "Who would you get to star in it?"

  "I don't know,” I said, “but we should name it after the ladies."

  "Edith and Kate?"

  "Naw, we can call it Having Your Cate and Edith Too.” And he hit me with a pillow.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Nine

  ...When the Senate reconvenes next month. That's Perspective America. I'm Sean Roberts....

  "And, we're clear. That's a wrap,” Ronny said through the studio intercom.

  And so it went. I learned how to fight traffic to the studio. It was at least ten or fifteen feet of stop-and-go pedestrians. Wyatt kept the coffeepot full, and Janie kept me in plenty of nouns, verbs, and innuendos. She was big on alliteration, and I think she wrote tongue-twisters just for the sport of watching me suffer.

  The boss called to say that we were being sued after one recent commentary. A company caught cheating was apparently upset that somebody had had the nerve to go on the radio and say they had been caught cheating.

  When we put out something that sounds like opinion, we keep all the research. Janie's file of scripts is like a master's thesis of footnotes, bibliographic references, and tape recordings. We don't say somebody is cheating unless they're convicted of it or have admitted to it in public. We might hint, but we don't just come out and say it.

  Janie's commentary scripts usually side with the little guy.

  "We gotta catch their back,” she said one time.

  "What if they have that plumber-butt crack?"

  "Callate!” she laughed.

  She says that there's always going to be a debate about public policy. When the right-wing weirdo politicians get their way, they cut back government beyond what is sensible. There is still a debate about public policy, but it happens behin
d the locked doors of a company's boardroom rather than out in public in the legislature. She says we are better served to have a public debate done by people we can throw out of office.

  She has opinions, and she is a really good scriptwriter. She makes me sound good: reasonable, enlightened.

  The boss never minds the threat of a lawsuit because he trusts Janie and her research.

  Janie told me that they hired radio-TV-film majors—known as RTF in the biz—at various colleges around the country to fill in for me while I was in the hospital. Some colleges even had contests, and we only got the winners. The scripts were always a joint effort of the student's class and Janie. Nothing got on the air without going through her, but the entire class wrote the original script together. The station included regular updates on my status, and there was always one promo for the school's academic program and another for their sports program. The boss hired talent to cut the promos, so the school could keep using them if they had their own radio station.

  Me being in the hospital turned out to be a whole string of teachable moments for RTF classes all over the place.

  Janie said Wyatt made a personalized thank-you kit for each of the kids. He had pictures of him with me in the hospital and photos of Janie and Ronny and the studio. There was even a picture of me on my Harley with the Barbie doll horn. They hired an artist to do that photo because there was no such picture in existence. Snip and clip.

  The boss got thank-you certificates made for each of the student newscasters. Everybody signed them, including me. Apparently Wyatt had forged my signature.

  "Detective Iacocca is here,” Wyatt said at the doorway, being very happy and comfortable in the position of host.

  "Thanks, babe,” I said. “I'll be out as soon as—"

  "I'll stack the papers,” Janie said. “Go deal with the police."

  "Thanks."

  "Detective,” I said as I held out my hand to shake. Wyatt had led him to the informal den.

  "Agent, now, I'm afraid."

  "Agent?"

  "Yeah,” Agent Iacocca told me. “The FBI made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

  "I thought it was Marlon Brando who made offers you can't refuse. Congratulations, I guess."