Chapter 2
George parked the car and hurried towards the terminal. He felt disgusted with himself. He had lied to Veronica for the first tone. That she lied to him constantly made absolutely no difference to George. If he had lied, his lies were those of omission. Now he had violated a strong principle. He did not have to go to Boston. The deal could have easily been handled over the telephone. The fact was that he wanted to go to Boston for a very different and for a far more pressing reason. He had even lied about his flight He still had two hours, two hours he had to have to be alone and to think.
He went into the restaurant and ordered coffee, waiting patiently until it was served. Then at last there was nothing to stand between him and the thoughts which had been increasingly demanding his attention, the thoughts which caused him at last to lie to the woman who made falsity a way of life. His hand trembled as he lifted it to his chin. It was Philip.
Two days earlier Veronica had been getting herself fucked by a kid gas station attendant while he, George, waited in the car. He was, of course, supposed to be ignorant of the situation. He got a hard-on while he waited, imagining her experience. It was then, while sitting in the car with a hard-on, that the memory of Philip had suddenly popped into his mind. After all these years the memory had crane out of nowhere. He had tried to push it away, to put it back into the forgotten past where it belonged. But he could not shake the memory.
George had belonged to the fraternity on campus, the most prestigious and the most corrupt group of young men at Stalmouth University. Incoming freshmen in the fraternity had been assigned by lottery to senior men. The freshman and the senior had then roomed together, and the freshman had been responsible for keeping the room clean, running errands and generally acting the slave to the senior's master. It went far beyond that, of course. The freshman had also had to suck off the senior to whom he had been assigned. At any time during the year that the senior had wanted a blow job or even a hand job, his freshman had been obliged to service him. George had been Philip's freshman.
Philip had been kind enough about it In some respects. He had helped keep the room clean and had run his own errands. He had, in fact, been the ideal roommate. Nor had he submitted George to some of the indignities other seniors inflicted upon their freshmen. Philip had never even suggested fucking George in die ass, for instance. But he had asked George to blow him at least once each week. Knowing he had had to do it and knowing that everyone else had also been doing it had somehow taken the sting out of it. No, it had not been having to do or even doing it that had stung so sharply, but that he had liked doing it George had liked blowing Philip. And on several occasions Philip had stroked George's cock while George sucked him off. He had liked it!
He remembered Philip stretched out on his back, Ms cock like polished pink marble straining to stand upright above die soft mass of blond pubic hair. He remembered lying on his stomach between Philip's legs, sucking at the prick, and stealing looks op at Philip's flat stomach, his heaving chest, his head thrown back with the lips slightly parted in a lost, dreamy smile. He had actually liked eating Philip's cock and beating himself off. Dear God!
George had been a virgin at that time. As he had slowly come to recognize that he enjoyed blowing Philip, he had begun to question his masculinity. He was well built and was good at all sports. There had been nothing at all effeminate about him, but it had begun to occur to him that he was queer. Philip had apparently begun to suspect it, too. On the night before the dance at Veronica's sorority, Philip had wanted a blow job. He had told George he had wanted him to swallow his load that night and not spit it out the window as he had usually done.
"I want you to drink it, George," he had said.
"I'll try," George had whispered. "I'll try."
He had begun to suck Philip slowly, realizing and for all that he had enjoyed doing it Philip been more obviously responsive than usual. He had begun to writhe upon the bed. Suddenly he had grabbed onto the side of George's head and pushed it down over the entire length of his cock. George had not been prepared and had begun to choke on Philip's throbbing cock. Then Philip had released him and, lifting George's head up in his hands, he had said, "You like it, don't you?" His voice had sounded menacing. It had been unlike Philip to be rough.
George had felt himself flush. He looked down at the throbbing piece of meat. "Yes," he had whispered. "Yes. I like it."
"Cocksucker," Philip had snarled, his beautifully chiseled face suddenly ugly with contempt and disgust. "Eat me, then. Eat that fucking cock."
George had sucked furiously, taking the entire length of Philip's dick into his mouth easily. Philip's body stiffened. Clamping George's head onto his prick, he had cried out more loudly than ever before and had pumped wave after wave of molten come into George's mouth ... George had begun to choke, frantically working his throat muscles to swallow the thick load which had threatened to suffocate him. When the last of the spasms had passed through his body, Philip had released his hold on the back of George's head, In a hoarse voice, he said, "You don't have to swallow it, kid."
But it had been too late. George had swallowed it. He had forgotten the command. He had begun to swallow the load to keep from suffocating but, in the end, he had swallowed Philip's come because he had wanted stood up and walked across the room, pretending to spit out the window. Then he had sat down, stunned and frightened. Philip had rolled onto his side, facing the wall. George had looked at the sloping back with a mixture of contempt and affection. He had wanted to lie beside Philip and beg his forgiveness.
The dormitory walls were very thin. The senior next door banged on the wall and shouted, "Hey, Phil, how about loaning me your frosh? He sounds like a good one." Then there had been a burst of laughter which had masked the sudden sound of a sob which burst from George's throat.
Convinced that he had been queer, George had decided to give himself one more chance. And the next night at the dance he had met Veronica, by far the most sexually desirable woman at the dance. Who better to give him back his masculinity than a super sexy woman? Who better to make him feel human again.
"They had been attracted to each other instantly. As they danced he had tried to concentrate on her cleavage and had deliberately avoided contact with Philip. It had surprised him most of all that a woman who looked as fast as Veronica had been a virgin. He had expected her to be knowledgeable, to have had the experience necessary to give him his masculinity. Instead, she had given him her cherry and that, more than anything, had restored his sense of worth. Their fuck had been violent as if both of them had been determined to give the other the fuck of their life. Her wide black eyes had swollen with slight alarm when he roughly pulled his demanding cock out of his pants. Her slight fear, too, had reassured him that he was a man. He had succeeded. She, the superwoman, had proven to him that he was every inch a man. He had been able to face Philip with level eyes.
With only two weeks left to school, he and Veronica had become engaged almost immediately. He had needed to have her forever as the badge of his masculinity. But if George had recovered his poise, Philip-had not been able to look him straight in the eyes during their last two weeks. Nor had he asked George to blow him again. One night George had awakened from sleep to find Philip standing naked over his bed staring down at him. For one moment he had almost reached out to pull Philip towards him, but the moment had passed and Philip had turned away without ever knowing that George had been awake. And later that same night, George had heard the springs of Philip's bed sway. Silently holding his breath, he had listened to Philip jacking off.
Then Philip had graduated and left for graduate school at another university. He had not heard from nor had he seen Philip since that year at Stalmouth University when he had been Philip's freshman. He had not really thought of him. Veronica had continued to tell him in a million different ways that he was a man. He had had no doubts. Until the other day while he had waited for Veronica to get fucked in the gas station, Philip had been forgotten. And now Philip grew in George's mind like a voluptuous, cancerous flower.
George suddenly sat upright. The coffee was cold, but that wasn't what had startled him into awareness. He had a raging hard-on.
George forced his mind to concentrate. Slowly, the hard-on subsided, his cock withdrawing into the jockey shorts for the time being. He sighed and got up quickly. He left an outrageous tip as if to apologize for his thoughts and hurried from the restaurant. Just beyond the exit was a men's room and the sudden hard-on had left him with a need to urinate.
He pulled out his dick, which was passive now, and glanced down at it with a puzzled expression. He slipped the foreskin back and looked at the head. There was no sign at all of the frenzy which had possessed it a moment ago in the restaurant. He took a leak.
As George was shaking himself off, he became aware of someone standing at the opposite end of the row of urinals. He looked up. A young man caught his glance, smiled frankly and simply, then lowered his eyes, glancing briefly at George's cock as he did so. George suddenly understood that the clean-cut young man with the soft smile was in the men's room specifically to suck cock, that he wanted now to suck George off. He smiled and looked down at his cock. It swelled suddenly within his hand, throbbing again with the urgency he had felt in the restaurant, demanding quick release.
The young man moved over to George's side quickly and took the swollen cock into his hand. He squeezed it gently.
George's heart began to pound and his knees felt weak. He suddenly realized how dangerous it was, what an incredible risk both he and the young man with the gentle touch were running. But he did not turn away.
"Eat me, then," he said suddenly in a voice he hardly recognized as his own. "Eat that fucking cock."
And now, after all these years, he felt the exquisite triumph of Philip as the young man sank quickly onto his haunches and took George's aching member into his greedy mouth. In a moment, under the pressure of risk and from a fever pitch of excitement, he climaxed, roughly holding the young man's head clamped between his hands and ramming his cock all the way down his gasping throat. The young man began to gag and George quickly released him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean...."
"It's okay," the young man answered. He quickly resumed his position at the opposite end of the urinals.
George went into a booth and wiped away as much saliva as possible with toilet tissue. Then he stuffed the satisfied cock back into his pants and pulled up the fly. As he began to leave the rest room, the young man smiled and said, "Come back when you can do it again."
George stared at him in disbelief, suddenly realizing the young man would probably stand there for hours, running the double risk of getting arrested and getting beaten, for no other reason than to suck cock. He smiled weakly and felt slightly sick. Then he left the rest room and walked into the crowd.
George was amazed at himself. Veronica usually took the juice out of him for a good twelve hours. And now suddenly, after a particularly passionate session with Veronica less than two hours earlier, he had dropped his load in a public toilet like a horny school kid. That was unlike him. Veronica's hot pussy had always completely satisfied his needs before.
And she had been hot that morning. He had wondered who she could possibly have been fucking that morning before waking him up. Seeing her peignoir in the bathroom later, he had realized she had finally screwed Tom. He had hired Tom himself, knowing the minute he laid eyes on him that sooner or later Veronica would get around to screwing with him. But Veronica had oddly not wanted to have Tom on the place. He had, however, been insistent. He was beginning to understand why.
George had known about Veronica's sexual habits for some time now. It had never bothered him except when she took risks which could socially ruin them. business, after all, depended upon a certain social age. At first he had merely looked the other way, pretending not to know from her loosened clothes or her flushed face that she had just ripped off another extramarital piece of ass. Then he had begun to wonder precisely why it did not disturb him. It seemed odd despite the fact that he never tried to consciously impose his standards on anyone else.
Several days ago, however, he had realized that, far from leaving him indifferent, her affairs had excited him all along. The realization had come to him during the same incident when the memory of Philip had suddenly flashed into his mind. Waiting there in the car with a hard-on, he had not only suddenly thought not only of Philip but had also thought of Veronica getting fucked by that young kid. And he had hardly been able to wait to get her home to fuck her senseless. Was it merely the thought of her getting racked that excited him or was it more than that? Before fucking her that afternoon, he had first juiced up her pussy. Had he merely been eating out her pussy?
George searched about for a bench and quickly sat down. He felt faint. The implications of his thoughts were screaming in his mind. He had not been merely tolerant, had not merely adopted a live-and-let-live attitude all these years of outrageous infidelity. Any other husband would have been jealous. At the very most another husband might be proud that so many other men wanted his wife. But George had actually been excited about it. A new knowledge crept into his awareness. No, he had not merely eaten Veronica's pussy two afternoon's ago. He had been sucking out of her the dregs of her hurried affair with the gas station attendant All these years, he had experienced all those men vicariously through Veronica.
A wave of disgust passed through George. His heart was pounding furiously.
Veronica the insatiable. Now it occurred to him, also for the first time, to question the cause of her infidelity to begin with. Perhaps she strayed not because she was a natural tramp but because he was not man enough to satisfy her. God, what kind of a man was he? Unable to please his wife, finding satisfaction in possessing her after other men had had her-he was BO man at all.
He leaned forward, overwhelmed with horror and disgust.
And the white lies he had told Veronica this morning and which had violated his precious principles. How could they even compare with the colossal lies he had fed Veronica and himself throughout their marriage?
"Sir? Are you okay, sir?"
He looked up. A stewardess was smiling her concerned smile at him. He wondered if she smiled the same careful way while she was getting fucked.
"Fine, thank you. The flight for Boston?"
"Gate 27, sir."
"Thank you."
George stood up. Determined to hide his shame, he held his head up and walked towards the gate. He hoped no one else could see through the exterior into the corrupt and hateful interior.
Philip's hometown had been Boston. Perhaps he still lived there. George had to confront him.