T-Room Trouble

Going It Alone

The door seemed much heavier than Jay remembered, getting stuck in it’s frame as if deciding who gets thru, who might deserve this pleasure, but then Tony had always been the first to go thru and leaving it ajar in those afternoons they tag-teamed this scene, had only ever noticed that squealing as the door swung open and shut.

What stopped Jay in his tracks was the pitch blackness and heaviness in the air, a smokey smell coming from across this room, that pungent stench of weed now so apparent filtered through that high note of ammonia from those urinal hockey pucks. this familiar cloak quickly enveloping him and settling his quaking knees, replacing his fear with a curiosity and new awareness of these surroundings that he only saw thru those sure steps as Joey took charge having picked out a mark, making that quick move as he went for that grab and go, most men only aware they were being robbed after the fact.

He stood stock still inside the door waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, barely any hint of those surrounding park lights leaking in from those few windows set along the roof and coated in years of grime.

Jay froze as he felt that hand reach across and grope his crotch, couldn’t confront this advance without announcing his presence to any crowd with no idea what to expect having seen few men walk thru those doors, no one entering or leaving in that last hour.

His heart thumped in time with that insistent hand, those nimble fingers loosening that tight bunch in his jeans teasing that tube steak across his hips, running that fist from the spongy tip to the thick root of his dick, insistent fingers squeezing at his balls on each upstroke.

Jay had been fixedly staring at that hand working his crotch and in that trance he could hear the slightest jingling of bells, notes so high he was reminded of those Church services he was dragged to as a child, sparkling stars floating up those walls, that fluttering flight of angels dressed in white surplices following silently behind a somnambulist priest floating through that fog of incense.

Jay had once joined in those processions enthralled by that pomp and pageantry but had quit as an alter boy suddenly, without explanation or excuse to his pastor or family.

It had been so long since that visiting priest had taken advantage of him, but that long suppressed memory now came flooding back making him even weaker somehow than the guilt he had then felt, submitting to that unexpected moment in the still air of that sacristy, standing shoulder to shoulder as they faced forwards and back, standing as sentinels in those black cassocks exposing only the extremities of their limb's, feet planted and heads held firmly as Jay's hands pointed up in prayer as neither watched that priest frantically masturbated him, Jay’s eyes screwed shut against acknowledging this sacrilege, that visiting priest staring fixedly at the crucifix on the wall all the while mumbling in Latin.

That angelic tinkling was coming from that fist at his crotch, light glistening off those gold links and Jay suddenly saw an opportunity to make a quick grab and go for that bracelet but he needed cash, didn't want any questions from that dealer at that all night pawnshop in the Combat Zone in Boston, couldn't even consider the trip with just that quarter tank of gas.

That man leaned in and whispered in his ear slurring and slow, perhaps in his most seductive voice that he thought might seal this deal.

"A booth”, he murmured, tipping his head to the darkened walkway just ahead.

Without releasing that grip on his crotch he had started walking into the murky center of that room, Jay only now aware of other men along one side of that tiled room, gathered in a football huddle across the front of that nearest booth.

To Be Continued