Date: Tue, 1 Nov 2016 19:47:31 -0500
From: Natty <bacteriaburger@gmail.com>
Subject: Reunited

Originally published in the Bruno Gmunder anthology Whipping Boys

Reunited
by Natty Soltesz

Chuck Fisher. There he was, drinking a cheap beer under the dim lights of
the Groom Ramada's Bay Field Hall. I let the door swish shut behind me and
when I looked again his brown eyes were right on mine.

I looked back. Let him see me, let me see him. He tilted his face to the
floor, sucked in the mouth of his bottle. Then he peeked back up at me.

I moved on, looking past and around him to the crowd of about a hundred,
the badly-dressed and almost middle-aged lot of them. My class. Groom
Senior High Class of 1993.

There was Monica Berretz, slurping a Long Island iced tea, makeup thick as
buttercream frosting on her tore-down face. Oh she'd been a bitch to me,
particularly in our junior-year history class. We reported on a pop-culture
figure from the sixties/seventies, I did David Bowie. I mentioned his
bisexuality and she said something like, "Well now we all know why Shane
did his report on him."

She was talking to a short, round woman whose name I couldn't remember,
getting in her face, making some sort of point by poking a skeletal finger
at her.

Phew. I needed a drink if I was going to get through this so I sidled up to
the bar and ordered a martini from the sorta-cute bartender. "And a shot of
whisky," I added on second thought.

"Shane. Shane Scully?" I looked to my right. A string bean of a woman
looked back at me. She had a nest of curly hair on her head, bright orange
earrings.

"Molly Ignario," I said.

"As I live and breathe," she said, and embraced me. She held me out, looked
me over. "You have held up well. I like those shoes."

"Thanks," I said. The shoes – bright pink as just as expensive as my
tailored suit and hot pink tie, thank you very much – had been a
color-as-message masterstroke. It said Hola motherfuckers, I'm gayer and
more successful than you'll ever be, so suck it up. "You don't look so bad
yourself."

"Pff." She leaned into me, her hand held up next to her mouth
conspiratorially. "Better than some of these folks, that's for sure." I
laughed. I liked Molly. She'd always been nice to me. "I saw your article
– The New York Times...that's large potatoes, mister. Congratulations."

"Eh, it was just a profile. Sunday edition." She rolled her eyes and jabbed
her elbow into my side.

"Still, that must be great for your business. Christ I'm practically
selling my soul to get a mention in the Groom Gazette. Though, all in all,
my store is doing pretty well, I mean I can honestly say that I'm doing
better than some of the small business owners out there..."

Her voice drifted to the back of my brain. He was looking at me
again. Chuck fucking Fisher.

Talk about holding up well: Chuck had matured into exactly my type. Or
maybe he'd been my prototype, despite the fact that I'd considered him my
worst enemy in high school.

He was with four other guys all of whom I unfortunately remembered. The
douchebag brigade – they'd all harassed me at one point or another in
high school. Brody Ravenstal, Jim Gallaway. Chuck was shorter than any of
them – shorter than I remembered, muscled and fit, with a barrel-wide
chest (hair peeking from the collar of his beige oxford shirt). He was
poured into his Dockers, with thick thighs and an ass that looked better
than I remembered, cheeks thick and plump as succulent chicken breasts. A
big round bulge up front.

Nobody had been worse to me than Chuck. I knew that part of the reason I
was at the damn reunion (and looking so fly) was because of the chance that
he might be there. I wanted him to lap it up.

Now he was, like a thirsty dog in the heat of summer, and it made me a
little uncomfortable. While Chuck had never been physically violent to me,
he'd been plenty threatening. He'd called me every name in the
queerbasher's handbook. The douchebag crew in the hall, Chuck right up
front: "Hey Shane, how much cum did you swallow last night?" Not a high
school day had gone by without Chuck asserting that I had less worth than
the crust on the bottom of his shoe. I dreaded coming to school. I threw up
nearly every morning of my sophomore year, mostly because of him. Now he
was staring me down and I felt helpless all over again. I couldn't be sure
of what his gaze implied, but it was persistent.

"So yeah, that's my life in a nutshell." Molly, still talking. I turned to
her, nodded, and when I turned back Chuck was walking toward us. Toward me,
his tits leading the way, his tight core contracting as he maneuvered his
way through the crowd. Molly looked at me, looked at Chuck, and shut up.

"Hi Shane," he said.

"Chuck." He glanced at Molly for a moment. She got the message and slipped
away.

"I'm glad to see you here," he said in low, confident voice. A familiar
voice. It was the way he'd say faggot in my ear when passing me in the
hall, a low rumble. "You look good."

"Thanks."

"Look..." he said. I looked. "I know in high school I was a dick to you." I
nodded. He held out his hands. "I'm sorry. I just want to say that."

"Okay," I said. My defenses were hard as steel. "Thank you." It was hard to
reconcile the contrite man in front of me with the sneering bully I
remembered, but there was something in his eyes that stuck – a fierce,
kinky gleam I'd forgotten about.

"I'll see ya around," he said, and walked back to his friends.

I ordered another drink. I caught my breath. I caught up with some old
friends, mingled.

He never stopped looking at me. I tried to ignore it at first – smiled
at him, nodded – but it wouldn't stop. I started to see it for what it
was – not hostility, not even anxiety; more like curiosity. Maybe even
interest. Was I getting cruised by Chuck Fisher?

Everyone got drunker. Chuck stuck with his posse. God I hated those
guys. They slapped him on the back but Chuck seemed above it, on a
different wavelength. I suppose he seemed that way to me in high school
– the leader, the alpha – but I got the distinct sense that I was the
alpha in the room now, at least in his eyes.

I went outside to smoke a cigarette. I listened to the lonely sound of
highway, cars rushing past. The door opened, I turned and there was Chuck.

Was I surprised? Not exactly.

"Hey," he said. "Can I bum a cigarette?" I paused. I shook one out for
him. He held it between his fingers. "Got a light?" I produced a
lighter. He leaned forward, touched the tip to the flame, inhaled. It
crackled and glowed. He nodded thanks.

"What do you do these days, Chuck?"

"I run an insurance company. Big company, out in Denver."

"Married?"

"Yeah."

"Kids?"

"No." We sucked our cigarettes. "Are you married?" he said.

"Nope."

"Got a...partner?"

"A couple boyfriends." Chuck paused as if to gauge my seriousness. Then he
snickered - not out of malice. He just seemed tickled. "So your wife didn't
come with you?"

"She works for a tech company," he said. "An upstart. It's hard for her to
get away." He looked at me and I knew. I just knew.

Over the years I've gotten better at spotting ones like Chuck. It's
surprising how many there are out there: guys in high-powered, high-stress
positions who spend ninety percent of their time at their jobs and juggle
family life at the same time. They're so high up on the totem pole and so
inured to erotic domination that a dominatrix just won't do it
anymore. They need the total humiliation and release they can only get from
a man. They need to be fucked, frankly.

These kinds of guys have become my specialty because I know what they
want. Also, I don't question them. If they want to call themselves
straight, so be it, as long as they're taking my cock and following my
orders.

"Too bad she's not here," I said. Chuck didn't say anything. His gaze was
anything but level. "You know what, Chuck?"

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna let you see it, since you've been after it all night," I said.

"See what?" Acting like the virgin innocent but not doing a good job of it.

"My cock," I said, hefting the bulge my pants. It was the moment of truth
and Chuck was right there in it. I took my hand away. My rising cock jerked
in my pants and Chuck eyed it, excited and frightened. "C'mon," I said.

He followed me around the side of the building, away from the street. I
took him by the shoulders and spun him around. He used his hands to brace
himself against the brick wall of the building. I grabbed the cleft of his
substantial ass, the ass he used to parade around in gym class. I swear he
did it to drive me crazy - strutting around in the locker room, big hairy
chest leading the way, cock swinging between his legs, tight, cocky butt
following him like his own personal procession, perky cheeks flexing as he
snapped towels and talked about the girl he was going to fuck that night
and about what a fag I was.

"Does your wife know you like cock?" I whispered into his ear.

"Yes."

"Does she fuck your ass?"

"Just once, she did."

"That's not enough for a little straight cunt like you though, is it? Is
it?" He shook his head and pressed the hot center of his ass back into my
hand. "Say it."

"It's not enough."

"For?"

"For a straight cunt like me." Those words, coming out of Chuck Fisher's
mouth, may as well have been the crooning of angels. I turned him to face
me. He was breathless, flushed. I looked into his eyes; took hold of his
face and brought it to mine. I pressed my mouth to his and shoved my tongue
between his lips. He sucked it in as he exhaled. Kissing isn't something I
normally spring on my straight slaves, at least not in the early going, but
I had no intention of beating around the bush with this one.

While I kissed him I slid my hand down his back, past his tucked-in shirt
and the belted waist of his pants. I felt silky underwear. The waistband
was thin, frilly. "Well well well," I said, and reached for his belt
buckle. I took his pants down to get a good look. His panties were pale
pink, with a darling little bow on the front. His cock didn't fit in them;
it hung out of the leg hole, just as hairy as I remembered and a lot
harder.

"Are these your wife's?"

"Yes."

"Does she know her husband's a pussy boy who likes to wear her panties?"

"Yes sir." I was tickled. He was more ready for this than I
realized. Probably he had another queer daddy in his life who'd taught him
the ropes. I slipped my hand under his panties and felt his hot, hairy
asshole which instantly relaxed against my finger. Chuck pressed a hand to
my crotch.

"Uh-uh," I said, swiping his hand away. "You don't get to touch it yet. But
I did promise you could see it. On your knees." He dutifully dropped to the
pebbly black top, eyes trained on my crotch as I took my time unbuckling,
unzipping. I have a massive prick - always have, though I went to great
pains to hide it in the high school locker room. I lowered the waistband of
my briefs slowly, revealing the thick root of it, the shaft like a Roman
column. I wasn't even fully hard. His eyes widened. He gulped.

"That's right, slut. That's what's going inside of you. Are you excited?"

"Yes sir."

"A little scared?"

"Yes sir."

"You should be."

***

I had him follow me to my room. The elevators were a few feet from the
entrance to the banquet hall and the doors were closing when Molly walked
up and saw us in there, together. Her eyes widened, the doors shut. I
looked at Chuck, savored his red-faced embarrassment.

We went into my room. "Strip."

He complied. His body was gorgeous. "Take out my cock." Chuck knelt and
took down my pants. "Now suck it."

It was a sight. Chuck Fisher buck naked and sucking my cock like a common
whore, his cock hard as a railroad spike and standing straight up from his
bush. He did a good job of it, too, keeping his teeth in check, his
masculine bearded face bobbing up and down, lips stretching to accommodate
my girthy cock. He was loving it. He started stroking his cock while he
sucked. I slapped him across the face.

"No touching yourself. Focus on me. Focus on being a good cocksucker." It
only turned him on more. He ate my cock like a fifty-dollar steak, grunting
and groaning as he took every inch, his watery eyes glancing up at me.

I pulled my cock out of his mouth, slapped his face with it. "Keep your
mouth open," I said. Chuck did as he was told. I jacked off. I got a nice
drop of precum on the tip. "Lick it off," I said.

"Yes sir." Moaning with delight as he ate my precum.

"Like that?"

"Mm, yes." I fed him some more, then I was ready to taste him.

"On all fours." His hard cock led the way as he got on the bed and arranged
himself doggy-style. I savored the sight of his solid, muscular body
arranged like a table for me to eat off of. And that legendary ass in all
its spread-wide glory, round as the sun with a dark stripe of hair down the
crack and a gorgeous pink hole.

I cupped one substantial cheek in my hand. Chuck's flesh went covered with
quivery goosebumps. I gave it a good slap.

"This is my ass now."

"Yes sir. It's all yours. Use it however you want." I pressed the tip of my
finger to his slot, pushed in just a bit. His hole relaxed for me. "Man
that's a hot cunt."

"It's yours."

"I'm gonna fuck it."

"Yes sir. Please."

"But not yet." I got in close, sniffed around. He smelled like cologne and
I wondered if he hadn't slapped some right on his asshole before he went
out, like he wanted it to be as fresh as possible for whatever cock came
along.

I had to get a taste. I licked up his thighs first. Chuck moaned
immediately. "You want my tongue in there? Opening up your hole?"

"Yes please."

"Yes please what?" He knew the answer and corrected himself. I gave his ass
a hard, stinging slap. "Don't make that mistake again."

I licked all around that gorgeous ass and finally wiggled the tip of my
tongue around the slick skin of his asshole. You would've thought I dipped
his dick in honey the way he moaned and pressed his ass against my face. I
held his cock, felt it get harder the deeper I dug my tongue into him. I
ate him out for a good fifteen minutes. His cock dripped a small puddle of
precum on to the bed spread. That's when I reached for my suitcase.

I pulled out a bright red butt plug, medium-sized, and held it in front of
his eyes. "Get it ready," I said. Chuck opened his mouth and sucked it
in. I reached back and pressed a spit-slicked finger to his hole. He moaned
around the plug as I slid the finger inside his tight chute. He took his
mouth away.

"Oh fuck, oh god, that's so good."

"Keep sucking," I said, and shoved the plug back in his mouth to shut him
up. When it was nice and wet I brought it back to his asshole and plugged
it into him. His hole closed around the narrow end of it, the red disk of
the handle pressed against his body.

"Get up," I said. He stood, looking confused. "Get dressed."

"Sir?"

"We're going back downstairs. You don't want to miss the reunion, do you?"

I laid out the rules as I got dressed. "We're going to socialize for at
least another two hours. I'm going to tap you on the shoulder at some
point, and when I do you'll excuse yourself to the bathroom, go into a
stall, and fuck yourself with the plug for five minutes. I'll time you, and
I may come into the bathroom to listen. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." He was looking just past me, at his clothes on the bed. His cock
was so hard, still. I put a finger under his chin, tilted his head upward,
and kissed him. As I tongued his mouth I reached behind him and grabbed the
plug with my fingers, pulling it out and plugging it right back in. Chuck
groaned. I broke the kiss, slapped his ass and told him to get dressed.

***

Back at the reunion I mingled, had some more drinks. The tension was lifted
and I realized I was having a pretty grand time. It was funny, when I first
got there I'd been holding on to my pride so hard, trying to project it. I
was so hungry for respect I'd lost sight of everything else. Like the fact
that these were humans who were probably just as insecure as I was, and
that I'd been friends with some of them, and many of them were actually
quite funny.

I kept an eye on Chuck, of course. He seemed relaxed, too. At least he
wasn't looking at me every other minute. Now we were joined by the plug in
his ass, a persistent reminder that he was mine for the night, that I was
inside him.

After a half hour I tapped his shoulder, trying to be surreptitious but his
idiot friend Brody noticed. Chuck didn't miss a beat. He went to the
bathroom as ordered, came back five minutes later looking a little
flushed. I watched him from across the room as he rejoined his
friends. Brody said something to him, glanced at me. Chuck shrugged it off
but you could tell Brody was suspicious. It was fun to watch.

The second time I followed him in the bathroom and when the coast was clear
I joined him in the stall, fucked him with the plug. Two guys came in while
we were in there. I kept pumping. I loved watching his ass stretch around
it, listening to him try to stay quiet while I got rougher and rougher.

"I'm gonna enjoy fucking your ass, Chuck," I whispered in his ear.

"Yes sir. I just want to please you."

"We could've had so much fun in high school, you know? If I'd known what a
cunt you were back then," I said, alternating shallow thrusts of the plug
with pulling it all the way out and back in. "Did you know back then that
your ass was made to be used?"

"Sorta," Chuck said breathlessly. "I used to stick markers up my ass." I
laughed.

"Anything else?"

"Cucumbers, sometimes."

"A cock is what you need, though."

"Yes sir."

"When did you get your first cock up there?"

"A few years ago. A guy my wife and I met online."

"He was lucky to get first crack at your ass. But I'm gonna make sure I get
mine."

"It's yours all night, sir. Use me as much as you want." I jacked his cock
as I fucked his ass with the plug, getting him just to the edge and backing
off.

We went back to the party and hung out for a while longer. People were
getting trashed. I was well lubricated myself. Things were starting to
break apart, with the lightweights leaving and the partiers doubling down.

I tapped Chuck on the ass when it was time to go. I said my goodbyes while
he said his. Molly and a couple other guys gave me their phone numbers. I
really felt like I might stay in touch.

Of course the real reunion was just beginning. I didn't waste time when I
we got to my room again. My cock wanted to be in that ass. In some way my
whole life from adolescence onward had been leading to this. I ripped his
clothes off, enjoyed Chuck's look of shock when his shirt buttons went
flying. I tossed him onto his back and chewed and sucked his hairy tits,
made his nipples red and tender. His cock was so leaky and wet, I couldn't
resist a taste. I trailed my tongue down his flat and hairy midsection,
licking around his abs and down to his hairy crotch. I sucked the tip of
his cock, licking off the juice there, savoring it. Then I took his cock
all the way down my throat, letting it fill me up, going back up and down
again.

"Thank you sir," he kept saying.

I put him over my knee, took out the plug and tossed it aside.

"You were a good boy tonight but you weren't such a good boy in high
school."

"I know, sir."

"So you agree that you deserve to be punished?"

"Yes sir. Please punish me. I deserve it." His substantial ass was right
there, practically quivering, perched atop my thighs, his hard cock pressed
into the side of my leg. I reared back my hand and slapped him hard. Whack!
I did it again and again, in quick succession. Then I shoved two fingers
inside him, pumping his hole while I gave his reddened cheeks a rest.

"This is what you're good for. You kept it a secret back then but now I
know. Say it."

"I'm a cunt. For you to use."

"For all cock."

"For all cock." Whack! Another five hard slaps. His ass was getting welts,
but Chuck took it like the tough bitch he was.

It was time. I pushed him off of me and positioned him like a doggy, with
his face and chest pressed into the bed and his rear wagging up high. I
rolled on a condom and lubed up my fat cock. His ass was gaping and spread
just for me. I savored the moment, swiping my cockhead against his hole,
pushing in just slightly. Then I pushed it home. Chuck moaned as I bottomed
out inside of him, going slow so that he could feel every inch of my
massive piece. He was panting, squealing. When I got all the way inside him
I reached down to feel his cock - it was completely hard. I didn't intend
on paying it much attention.

I started off with a sure and steady hump, pounding the full length of my
prong in and out of Chuck's fleshy ass, enjoying the sight of his firm
cheeks rippling each time I pounded in. Chuck kept up a steady stream of
squeals.

Despite Chuck's considerable musculature I was almost a foot taller and had
a good twenty pounds on him, which made it fun as I turned him into a total
fuck toy. I pulled him back so that he was sitting up onto my cock, then I
raised him by grasping on to his waist, lifting him off my pole before
dropping him right back down. I could hear his hard cock slapping against
his belly and thighs as I speared him like a rotisserie chicken. Chuck
found his footing and began doing most of the work, impaling his ass on my
cock again and again. I pinched his tits, rolling his hard nips between my
fingers and telling him what a hot slut he was.

"I'm gonna..." was all he got out. He was going crazy on my cock, riding me
like a prize-winning pony, fucking himself on me again and again. I looked
around his torso just in time to see his hard cock start spurting cum,
unbidden, spraying jizz all over the bed as his boner swung around like an
out-of-control garden hose.

There's nothing that gets me off more than a slut who loves to get fucked,
and this was just too much. I shot my own load into the condom, in Chuck's
hole, bruising his tits with my hands and sucking hard on his neck, intent
on leaving a mark.

We lay down for a bit. I think we both fell asleep. I woke up to Chuck
playing with my cock.

"Can't get enough, can you?"

"No sir." I tossed him on his stomach and fucked him again, this time
making him keep his ass raised up so that my hips pounded those fat cheeks
down with every thrust. I had him stand up and fucked him that way and it
was rough and unforgiving, a revenge fuck if there ever was one. Chuck
wasn't moaning so much whimpering and holding on to the wall for dear life
as I ravaged his ass. I slapped him good, even whacked him across the back
of the head a few times for good measure.

"Thank you sir," he said. I had him repeat after me: "I exist to be
used. I'm worthless except as a vessel for men to stick in their cocks."

"Apologize to me again," I said, grabbing him by the hair, my nuts slapping
against his ass with each thrust.

"I'm sorry," he said, near crying. "I'm so sorry, sir. I'm sorry." That
made me cum the second time.

I made him take a shower in the morning before I fucked him a third and
last time. This time was slower and sweeter, almost romantic. I kissed him
a lot, with tons of tongue, and he gave it right back to me. I even jacked
him off as I fucked, timing it so that we came at exactly the same time.

We didn't talk much as we got dressed, Chuck having to put on the panties
he'd worn last night and his button-less shirt. I gave him a kiss and he
went off to his room to pack.

The hotel had a continental breakfast and many of my classmates were there,
looking rough and hung over. I suppose I looked as bad as any of them,
though I may have had the glow of the freshly laid. Chuck came in a few
minutes after me and after getting his bagel and fruit, he sat next to me,
ignoring the douchebag contingent who were sitting just a few tables
away. He had a bit of that glow himself.

"Come to New York," I said. "Bring your wife. She can watch."

"Okay," Chuck said, smiling at me. Some balance had been achieved between
us, and it felt good. I got up to leave. He stood and put out his hand. I
ignored it and kissed him full on the lips. The douchebags looked at us
with dropped jaws. You could've heard a pin drop. It almost made the hell
that was high school seem worth it.

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