When the fog comes, I always get lost, a throbbing that pumps
me up like a balloon, shaping me into the strawman, stirring up the broth until
I can think of no one but her, convincing myself I want to think of nothing
else.
This fog that creeps through me, that steals that part of me
that might otherwise resist, as fog that fills me up and makes me ache, losing
myself, in my continual search for love.
In my dreams, it opens before me like a raw oyster, with all
I have to do is stick a fork in it and plop it into my mouth.
It is almost always the same dream, there at the bar with
her, a dish of oysters she gobbles up, a bit of moisture on her lower lip, irresistible,
even in a dream where anything is possible, churning up some deeper feeling that overflows
on me, the dream like a photograph of a real moment in time, but with a much
happier ending, when we gobble each other up just like oysters
I still recall what she looked like in the lobby below, in
the old office, in August, so hot my eyeballs sweated just to look at her, so
taunt under her sundress, sunglasses hiding half her face.
I melt even recalling it, how intense the sunlight was, how
I could – even if the cubbyhole a whole flight up – smell her scent that send
me into an enthrall turmoil, thinking she was going off to meet another man,
somewhere where the two could roll in the hay in some cheap motel room maybe or
in her perch above the church.
I recall the ache I felt at thinking of another man’s hands
moving over a landscape my hands ached roam, that sundress, that August, in
that overwhelming heat.
I still feel her lips against my lips, and I guess I always
will, a kinetic memory that clings to me. I wake up with it, live with it all
day, and crawl into bed with it at night, even though I know it is all that it
will ever be, a precious memory, and maybe it is enough.
To feel it even in memory is to live it again, tender to
touch, even with my fingertips, pressing in, watching the flesh contract,
anticipating a closer, more personal contact.
Sometimes, this memory wakes me from sleep, inspiring other physical
reactions that will not dissipate without vigorous effort, the feel of those
lips, the memory of a kiss, stirring me now and always.
Although I grew up with my two best friends, Bill and Lou –
going all the way back to Kindergarten, I was never as close to either of them
as they were to each other.
They were inseparable from the start, sharing secrets with
each other but nobody else, an odd couple to say the least.
Bill was a star athlete, who came very close to making the
pros, while Lou was far more academic, a sensitive soul most of us thought
would become a professor or a priest.
Even after we each went to college, we remained close, often
hanging out at the local bar, sometimes attending baseball or football games or,
at Lou’s insistence, theater shows.
They were so tight, nobody could foresee a time when they
wouldn’t be.
It took the two of them to fall for the same woman to wedge
them apart. A real sparkplug of a girl named Sue who was nearly as athletic as
Bill and twice as smart as Lou.
She seemed to love each of them for different reasons: Bill
for his manliness and his (rumored) nine-inch dick, and Lou for his compassion.
The rivalry for her affection became so extreme, they two
men refused to even talk to each other (since I was their mutual close friend,
I got to hear their nearly constant complaints about the other.)
Sue felt very guilty about coming between these two old
friend, and even consulted me about what she might do to rectify the situation.
The best I could come up with was for her to pick one and let the other one get
over it, suggesting time might heal even such a deep wound.
But apparently, she had a better idea, even if she didn’t share
it with me at the time.
She decided not to see either of them individually. If she
went out with one, the other one had to be included. Both grumbled about it, but facing a choice of
not dating her at all, they begrudgingly agreed. They went to movies together,
picnics together, even vacations. The four of us often ended weekends in lounge
chairs near her swimming pool. I got invited to some of these as a kind of
referee, while Bill and Lou nearly constantly bickered.
This went on for months, and Sue finally came to the conclusion
that one of the two men would have to change in order to get this feud resolved,
someone she would have to coax one of them out of their current frame of mind.
Bill, of course, was the more difficult in this regard, a man so stubborn it
would take an earthquake to change him. Sue pinned her hopes on Lou, and around
whom she shaped her devious plot.
I did not realize anything until it was far too late to stop
it.
Sue decided she needed to make the two men attractive to
each other, and figured she could get Bill to cooperate if she reshape Lou into
someone Bill thought he could not live without.
She started out by insisting that the two men treat each
other with respect. When they went out together to an event, she insisted the
two men shake hands, this evolved over time to more affectionate greetings,
such as giving each other hugs. Later, she insisted they become even more
expressive and wanted each to kiss the other as a greeting the way she did when
she greeted them.
Bill hated thew hole routine and only went along with it to
remain in Sue’s good graces.
Lou seemed more receptive, even though he still hoped to
become Sue’s sole companion. He seemed to still have a residual affection for
his childhood friend. Sue capitalized on this, insisting Lou do things stir up
fond memories when they grew up together, or anything else that might get under
Bill’s skin in a positive way.
“What kind of things,” I asked her once.
Sue gave me a devious grin and said I would see for myself.
She managed to meet Lou privately, where she advised him to making
himself warmer and more welcoming when she, Bill and Lou were together, things
that would put Bill in the right mindset.
Later, I was shocked to learn that she insisted Lou wear women’s
panties – not just while on a date with her and Bill, but all the time, telling
Lou this would make him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Lou balked at the suggestion, but after much badgering by
Sue, he caved in.
“No one will know you’re wearing them except you,” she told
Lou. “Wearing them will make you feel different.”
And perhaps it did. I sensed a bit less chill when we got together
with her, especially at the pool side where we all tried to relax.
Pushing the envelop further, Sue said hugging and innocent
kisses were not enough when they greeted each other, and told both men needed
to kiss each other as if they meant it, offering a demonstration on me that
left me more than just breathless.
They resisted at first, but gave it their best shot after a
while.
At some point, Sue decided Lou’s wearing of women’s panties
was not enough, and suggested he also wear panty hose, assuring him these would
show no more than the panties had. Lou reluctantly agreed, although he resisted
harder when she insisted that he wear a bra, more alluring female blouses. She
even supplied the fake breasts to puff out the bra a little. While after much pestering,
he gave in for most if it, he absolutely refused to wear a skirt, and Sue – the
moment – relented and allowed him to wear woman’s slacks.
She apparently knew Bill better than I did, and Bill’s
reaction to the changes she was imposing on Lou, subtle subterfuge that worked
on something behind Bill’s macho image, or perhaps reflected it. Bill’s tough
wall began to crack.
While Sue had introduced makeup early on, she had kept it
tame, just a touch of eyeliner and an almost clear pink lipstick. But as she
got more aggressive, so did the makeup, and soon Lou began to look like Sue’s
sister, rather than a potential lover.
Because Bill seemed so receptive to these, Sue changed Lou’s
attire, not only insisting on a skirt, but one that barely covered his bulge,
adding high heals to the mix.
By this time, the plan became obvious to me, but more appalling,
not to Bill, who suddenly seemed seriously attracted to his one-time best
friend.
When they greeted each other each time we met, Bill’s kiss
was more than just a kiss, and Sue liked this so much, she insisted they
continue the greeting several times each night, and when we parted company
later.
I was stunned when it became clear, Bill was kissing Lou as
if Lou really was a woman.
Sue took full advantage of this new-found closeness, and
insisted when we all went out or even hung out at the pool for our night cap,
Bill and Lou should sit together, often on the love seat she provided.
We all talked of the old days, about our man adventures
growing up. When she heard about how we used to skinny dip in a local river,
she insisted we all strip and skinny skip in her pool, but stayed back and held
me back, letting the two naked men go into the pool together, where Bill’s
attraction for Lou became way too obvious. You can’t hide a fully erect
nine-inch dick, even the dim pool light.
Bill was not the only one in this strange attraction. Lou was
memorized by Bill’s equipment.
I did not know until mush later that Sue – almost from the beginning
– had been feeding Lou hormones, and several times got Lou appointments for
shots—which she claimed were to build up his immunity. The hormones had allowed
him to do away with the phony breasts Sue had supplied him with earlier, and had
reshaped him a bit into something more like an hour glass.
Lou could not stop staring at Bill’s huge dick.
Bill laughed it off, claiming it was Sue that had inspired
his erection, although by this time, we all knew the truth.
Sue was thrilled and did her best to keep this going, insisting
we all skinny dip every night as long as the weather held out. She dressed Lou
in more elaborate female wear, including a two piece bikini which showed off
his breasts, even though she insisted he remain naked after we did our thing in
the pool.
Only later, did I find out how she managed to hide Lou’s
manhood, a private battle she won by said she would never see him again if he
didn’t put the cock cage on and keep in it on, day and night.
I didn’t see it when Lou and Bill were skinny dipping, but
if Bill saw it, he showed no sign of it.
Day by day, the whole thing got more embarrassing, as Lou
became fixated on Bill’s dick, and Bill seemed to love the attention.
Then one night, Lou asked Bill if he could touch it.
I started to intervene, but Sue grabbed my arm and said, “Don’t.
Let’s see where it goes.”
It went where we all knew it had to go, Lou touching the dick,
and stroking it, and then getting down on his knees go examine it better with
his mouth.
I was flabbergasted. Sue looked triumphant.
“I think they’re in love,” she whispered to me.
At that point, Bill or Lou – I don’t recall which – asked if
they could use her bedroom.
Sue was more than accommodating, grinning wildly as we
watched the naked couple walk hand in hand into the house.
“How can it possibly last?” I asked.
“It will,” Sue said. “I’ve already arranged for Lou to get
surgery.”
I glanced at her and shook my head.
“If they’re a couple, where does that leave you?” I asked.
“That’s why I have you,” said and squeezed my hand.
“You won’t like me. I don’t have a nine-inch dick.”
“You’ll do for a while, and when I get enough of you, maybe
I’ll buy you a dress.”
