I've had this re-occurring dream since I was a kid.
I'm alone, standing on a 3-foot-wide "bridge" arching into space...probably the stratosphere, with the darkness of space above and the blueness below, but no visible planet. The bridge disappears into the distance behind me but ends at my feet... too slippery and steep for me to turn back, so I face forward at the edge of emptiness...somehow steady and balanced, suspended in the clear, cold silence.
In the dream, as I stand there, another "tile" appears at my right-hand from nowhere...like polished marble but as thin as an egg-shell. And I take it, and kneel, and place it next to the last, forming an almost seamless surface. It magically clicks into place, forming the next step in my path...and I rise and take that step to look into the vast expanse again from a slightly higher observation point.
I am afraid and confident at the same time...not knowing where this "bridge' will take me; there is nowhere in-sight...but confident that each step brings me closer to something.
The dream ends here most of the time. But every once-in-awhile, perhaps once every six months, when I step onto the newest platform, it shatters beneath my feet like fragile glass, and I pitch-forward into nothingness. I awaken then with a start, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Apparently I cry-out. It's why I usually sleep alone...to avoid the necessity of an explanation.
Dreams foreshadow the future sometimes. When Jim and Gardner stood at the door of the loft, I heard the sound of shattering glass and I saw the shards of paper-thin marble fall away into the blue-blackness.
One step too many. One step before I was ready. One step predestined to fail. A knot in Clotho's skein. "This is a thing you may not know; so do not ask."
All this...for a piece of blonde boy-ass.
We would pick the coldest night of the year to go check out the new secret sex place. Now that Stockwell has shut down all of the gay watering holes, including the backroom at Babylon, the gay community has had to resort to secret, "underground" meeting places. Brian had done some snooping and found out where it was. Of all things it was in the back of a tractor-trailer - complete with blue lights. It was so fucking cold I told Brian I was afraid my tongue would stick to his dick. Inside was the usual moaning and heavy breathing but it was so cold I couldn't stand it so we decided to go back to the loft and fuck like "normal" people. Brian's bed still seems different with the orange lights after fucking under the blue ones for so long but Brian isn't exactly the same man he was before and I don't guess I am either. There's a clearer understanding between us now and Brian isn't as cold or withdrawn about letting me know what he's thinking as he used to be so I guess really the new lights are significant.
Brian was behind me with me on all fours. He drove and drilled his cock into me so hard and so deep that I swear I thought it was going to come out through my naval. And I loved every thrust. I used my hands and knees to push back against him meeting every plunge while my head and chest was pushed deeper into the mattress. When your ass has been fucked by Brian Kinney it STAYS fucked
"That was great" I said after he had withdrawn his shaft from inside me. We both lay there side by side exhausted and fulfilled. Brian lit a cigarette while I expounded on his being the master of evil and got a few more digs about Stockwell in. It feels so good to be able to say what I feel to Brian without being afraid of what he will say or do.
I knew Brian would persuade Stockwell to speak at the Gay & Lesbian center so I did some digging and found the names of some past victims of hate crimes in the gay community that the police had done nothing to solve. Brian is right. Straights don't give a fuck about us. I got all the gang to help. Even Mom. She's great. Brian told me after I got out of the hospital that I was lucky to have a Mom who cared so much about me. Daph, Mel, Lindz, and of course Debbie all pitched in. the look on Stockwell's face was priceless. We had him pinned in a corner and he knew it. He just slithered away. On his way out he glared at me. I think he recognized me from the office.
We all celebrated at Woody's afterwards. Everyone was congratulating me on my detective work. Brian deserved just as much credit for getting Stockwell there even though he knew I was planning something.
Brian and I could barely keep our hands off each other when we got back to the loft. He complimented me, in his own way, for being so clever about Stockwell. "I learned from the master" I told him with a grin. After checking out my latest anti-Stockwell poster we made love in the living room on cushions. Our way of having a picnic on the floor. Brian fucked me with my legs over his shoulders. I love it when he fucks me that way. Just like the very first time. I love watching his face while he drives his cock into me. His skin shines and glows with a thin sheen of sweat and I can feel the heat radiating from him. I used my legs to push him closer and deeper into me. Just as we were both getting close to shooting someone banged on the door. Brian grabbed his black briefs and held them over his still erect cock and sauntered to the door. When he slid the door back I almost shit. There stood Stockwell and Gardner Vance. I don't know which one of the four of us looked more surprised. "What's the matter, haven't you ever seen two guys fucking before?" Brian demanded. Vance just stood in the doorway looking idiotic. Stockwell barged in, looked at me lying naked on the cushions, grabbed one of my posters, crumpled it up and shoved it at Brian. Then they left without a word. I was afraid to speak so I just lay there waiting to see what Brian was going to do. "You want to finish?" he asked almost mockingly. Shit. I can't believe they showed up like that.
It happened. Brian lost his partnership and his job at the agency. His career has always meant everything to him. I kept expecting him to take out on me. I was afraid he'd hate me for being the cause of it but he wasn't at all. Stockwell finally pushed Brian too far. Brian the proud gay man overshadowed Brian the driving career man this time and his integrity, which I've always known he had, surfaced. That night we went to Babylon. Brian had me by one hand and a sledge hammer with the other. We walked straight to the padlocked door of the back room and with one might swing Brian busted the lock, kicked the door open and shouted "the backroom is now open for business." Then he pulled me inside and proceeded to devour me with his hands, mouth and tongue. No wonder I love this man so much. He really was being the gay crusader and I was his boy wonder close to his side.
Reflections 312 is incomplete
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