Date: Sat, 30 Oct 1999 03:23:55 -0700
From: daviscam <daviscam@been-there.com>
Subject: Glenn View

Once again, this is just a story.  If you mistake it for real life, then
get yourself one.  If you have a problem with gay feelings or sex, then
leave now.  If your community deems gay sex illegal, fight it and come back
when you've won.  If you won't vote, don't bitch about the politicians.

Suggestions are welcome: daviscam@been-there.com, or you can catch me
online in the Nifty Chats.

"He knew how much I loved him
And he once gave me a kiss
He said, "I wish you all the luck
"In finding your prince..."
But not in Glenview"

"Glenview" - Pansy Division

*********************************************

"Fuck you".
	Those were the last words Glenn said to his father three days ago.
That was Sunday, his birthday.  He'd come out to his parents, and in
return, they taught him his first lesson in the true meaning of the word
"Out".  Out of the closet, and into the streets.  Those were words he'd
cheered barely three months ago, on National Coming Out day.
	It was now mid-December.  Glenn was glad for the warm day that had
just passed.  It melted most of the previous days' snow.  As the sun went
down, so did his spirits.
	December in the southern Chicago suburbs could get on your nerves:
You go out in the morning wearing your heaviest coat and gloves, scrape the
quarter inch of ice from your windshield, and numbly fumble with the cold
plastics of your car.  If you're lucky, by the time you're halfway to work,
you can take off your gloves and hold the steering wheel with bare fingers
an no fear of frostbite.  By one that afternoon, you can go outside in a
shirt and sweater and baste yourself in the crispest, most welcome sun.  On
the ride home, you may be fighting the frost again, hoping that the
months-old rock chip in the windshield doesn't spread from the
contradictory temperatures.
	For Glenn, it was getting harsh.  He refused to go home.  His
parents might just outright slam the door on him, for starters.  His father
had been the loudest, but his mother had been more vicious with her words.
This was not a normal argument.  This one had been building since
childhood.  The suburban life his parents had laboured to give him was one
he'd always wanted to escape.
	"The longest journey", he said out loud, putting his red fingers up
to the two by three inch vents on either side of his Civic's steering
wheel, "Begins with a single step".  He'd taken a leap by making it into
Brown on a winged essay, a hoped-for student loan and a prayer of support
from his conservative parents.  After one semester, that leap had landed
him on his ass.
	Mark and Kim Allen knew the name of the college, and bandied it
about with their friends.  Glenn Allen wanted the break from the uptight,
super-structured sixteen years he'd had before applying.  He was seventeen
when he'd been quickly accepted for the next fall's freshman class.  He was
now eighteen and living off the $175 he'd closed out his childhood account
with at four that afternoon.
	It was now ten, and he still had most of it.  He spent an hour
enjoying the best McDonald's of his life.  It was hot, even the fries.
Normally he would have complained about McDonald's flavour being either
"burnt roof of mouth" or "throat-clogging cold", but tonight it was hot,
solid, food eaten inside a warm place.  He hadn't showered in three days,
and he only had one change of clothes, besides gym sweats, in his bag.
He'd managed to mix and match so far, but he knew that he was starting to
stink when he'd left McDonald's, opened his Civic's door and, despite the
cold, smelled his own dank.
	In three weeks of Rhode Island living, he'd met more people than in
his seventeen plus years of Illinois solitude.  In five weeks, Glenn had
found his first boyfriend, as opposed to the four, silent years of
fantasizing, restroom suckoffs and the occasional pseudo-girlfriend.  They
lasted only three weeks, but in those three weeks, Glenn had come into his
own being.  If college showed him that he was not alone, then the Pridefest
proved how many more like him there were.  No one person could contain him:
Glenn burst like a pinata, swatted at by the minions, spreading his candy
as far as he could and still manage to keep his grades in check.
	"The longest journey...", Glenn reminded himself.  He took in a
deep breath, grabbed the sweats (thank god he'd washed them after his last
trip to the gym) and headed back into McDonald's.  He headed to the
washroom for a bum's bath and a change of clothes.
	Both stalls were filled, as well as one of the three urinals.
Self-consciously, he put his sweatpants on the sink, and took a piss-stance
against the urinal furthest to the edge.  It didn't take long for the
coffee to run through him and he managed to take a healthy leak.  As he did
so, the stalls cleared, but the guy at the other urinal refused to finish.
His own well drained, Glenn shook himself slowly and chanced a look at the
guy.
	They locked eyes, but only after the guy's gaze lifted from Glenn's
crotch.  He was older, like early forties, Glenn immediately guessed.
Solid gray around the temples, salt and pepper through the rest, a slight
sagging around the eyes and a definite extended forehead, he held Glenn's
eyes for another moment, then nodded toward the stall.
	Glenn broke the eyelock with a quick and sharp shrug and shake of
his head.  He looked down at his own dick, dry of piss and shriveled from
the cold come on.  College had broken him of this kind of thing.  A year
ago, he probably would've gone into the stall with the guy and been happy
for the experience.  That was then.
	"Twenty bucks", the guy said.
	"Fuck you".  Glenn said the words outloud for the second time in
nearly four days, turning away as he pushed his head into his underwear.
	"Fifty", the guy said.  "I just want to suck you".
	Glenn started to zip up his fly.  Every notch the zipper went up
sounded like coin as he figured his cash to be about $165.  Fifty bucks
would bring him up over three hundred.  Three hundred sounded like a magic
number.
	"C'mon", Glenn said, grabbing his sweats off the counter.  He
headed into the stall and hustled himself for the first time.
	The white-templed man followed him into the handicapped stall and
gently guided Glenn to a seated position on the toilet.  He lifted the
lived-in sweater over Glenn's stomach and held it there as he licked the
twitching abs.  One hand landed on the outside of his thigh, the other
reversed the previous pattern of the zipper.
	"I wanna taste you cum", the guy said, pulling the waistband over
the now-hard dick.  His baggy khakis easily slid down to the knees, but for
whatever reason, Glenn spread his legs and stopped them there.  The guy
didn't seem to care, licking at the tip of his dick, the guy managed to
move Glenn's black Calvins down with his lips and a small tug.  Exposed to
the hilt of his cock, he accepted the mouth on him and started pumping.
	Fingers started moving: Glenn's went into the white-templed man's
hair as he slid along the roof of his mouth, pushed against his tonsils and
rammed his throat.  The guy's hands ran up and down Glenn, from the spread
knees up to the exposed dent between his chest and stomach.  With a flick
into his sweaty belly-button, the guy slipped a finger along Glenn's dick
and joined it in his mouth, sucking and stroking at the same time.  Just
when he thought he was gonna shoot in the guy's face, the guy pulled the
finger out and slid it down the side of his crotch, circled his balls and
slid it between Glenn's nearly spasming ass.
	"That's another fifty", Glenn said without thinking.  The
white-templed man put his wallet on top of the toilet paper roller.
	"Go ahead, check it", the guy said.  Glenn sat up, slipping away
from the guy as he did so.  The guy ran his lips over Glenn's hard head and
slicked his finger up and down his ass.  Glenn slid back down without
checking.
	"Yeah, do it, make me cum".
	The lips went down and took in his full length while a fingertip
slid itself into his sweaty ass.  The lips slid up, somehow warm against
his heated hardness while the finger plucked it's way inside his thin ass
ring.  With a reverse motion, Glenn was spread and fully fingered, his dick
pushing it's way across the guy's open teeth and then, as the finger
started to retreat, Glenn pushed in and shot his load.
	He swallowed the first, harsh dump: he had no choice.  Glenn pulled
the face as close to him as he could, pumping his hips on the lips and
against the finger.  The guy continued to swallow, as eager for the feeling
of spunk in his throat as Glenn was to needing to release it.  Glenn went
soft in the guy's mouth almost as soon as the finger left his ass.
	"Pay me".
	"Take it", the white-templed man said, putting his fingers to his
own task .  "Just let me jerk this load".  Looking into the wallet, he saw
two hundreds and a wad of tens, neatly separated.  He took the two
hundreds.
	"Be here tomorrow for the rest", Glenn said, unlocking the stall.
He grabbed his sweats and took off, leaving the golden arches for the rank
confines of his Civic.  Within five minutes of shooting his load, he was
onto Pulaski, two hundred bucks richer.
	He could make it to Rhode Island on $360, easy.  The dorms would be
"officially" closed, but he had a couple of friends that would be staying
over the closed term for various reasons.