Love Is A Feedback Loop
Eric and I maintained our now-normal schedule of activities for the rest of the school week, except that our sexcapades each afternoon now always involved role play. Why fix something that isn’t broken?
Nothing of interest happened at school. Eric and I slept at his house Friday night, because Liam (Eric’s father) would be taking me to the local community college early Saturday morning, so I could take the Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT.)
Saturday Morning, March 29, 1974
We got rudely awakened by Eric’s alarm clock at the usual time (7:15 am.) Rudest alarm clock, ever. Then, we went through the normal morning activities as though it were a school day. It sort of was that, for me. Liam dropped me off at the community college about 5 minutes early. As it happened, the actual start of the test wasn’t until 8:30 am. Now, 50 years later, I can’t recall a single question that was asked. I think that some of the “questions” on the verbal portion might have been requests to write mini-essays? Not sure.
As we had arranged, Liam picked me up just after 12:15 in the afternoon. I had only had to wait roughly 15 minutes. When he inquired, I told him that I thought I had done well on the test: There were no questions that had stumped me, although I couldn’t be certain whether the answers I thought were correct would be scored that way.
When we got back to Eric’s house, I was surprised to find that Eric was not alone: Greg, Brandon and Misha were all there, visiting.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you guys here”, I said.
“I wasn’t either”, said Eric. “But it’s Greg’s birthday today! So he, and the other two, decided to come over and party with us.”
“Oh! Well, in that case, Happy Birthday, Greg!”, I said. [I stand 5’10.5”, auburn hair with reddish highlights, blue-green eyes, neither fat nor thin, a relatively handsome face (but not “pretty,”) and—thanks to the exercise regimen I had started about a month prior—I was beginning to look borderline “buff.” I was often told that I was “good looking,” but I never could believe it.]
“Thanks, John!”, Greg replied. [Greg was a very good-looking, in-shape, red-haired dude with freckles.]
“You may be 18 now, Greg, but you still can’t go to bars,” teased Misha. [Misha was more than just “in shape”: He was ripped, had dirty-blond hair, and a classic Slavic face.]
“And now, he’ll have to register for the draft—in spite of not being allowed in bars, yet,” Brandon observed. [Brandon was a rather tall, thin dude, with dark auburn hair.]
“Just like all the rest of our gang have already had to do,” observed Eric. [Eric was toned (borderline buff,) had relatively short (for the era) blonde hair (but not a crew cut,) a relatively handsome face (not exceptional,) and was about average in height (no more than an inch taller than me, so just a tad shy of 6 feet tall.)]
Given what I had been doing that morning, I decided to change the subject: “Will you be going to college in the Fall, Greg?”, I asked.
“Sure will: I’ve been accepted by [University Y, which is about an hour’s drive from University X, where Eric and I will be attending.]”, Greg replied. “I’ll be majoring in Electrical Engineering.”
“Cool! So, we’d actually be able to hangout on weekends?”, I asked.
“I guess,” Greg replied. “I don’t know how long it takes to go from [the city where University Y is located] to [the city where University X is located.]”
“I do”, I said. “My father used to drive between those two cities all the time. Part of his job. But that was before we moved up into the mountains, right before I started high school.”
“What about you, Misha? And Brandon? Going to college?”, I asked.
“Yep: I’ve been accepted at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill”, said Misha. “Majoring in Computer Science.”
“In that case, we definitely need to keep in touch after high school”, I said.
“I had already made that one of my after-high-school priorities”, responded Misha.
“Georgetown. Law”, was all that Brandon said.
[Note: The universities that I’ve actually named are far enough away from where this story takes place, that I don’t feel the need to blind the names.]
“I already know what Eric will be majoring in. But what about you, Johnny?”, asked Greg.
“I finally decided on a double major: Linguistics and Math”, I replied.
“Oh, wow!”, said Greg.
Eric’s mother (Beth) chose that moment to call us all to lunch.
During lunch, Eric asked how things had gone on the test, so I told him essentially what I had told his father. But I elaborated further, explaining that I had answered questions based on the doctrines held by traditional grammarians and lexicographers, and not based on the precepts of modern linguistic science. I had to explain the key differences between those two points of view, but I won’t bore you with any of that, except to say that the doctrines of grammarians are prescriptive, but linguistic science—as an actual science—is descriptive (how academics/publishers want people to use language versus simply observing and describing their actual behaviors.) Liam, after he understood that point, said he thought that that had been the right thing to do. As it turned out, he was quite right—but more on that in a later chapter.
Apparently, Beth (Eric’s mother) had already been informed that it was Greg’s birthday today: She served German chocolate cake for desert.
After lunch Eric led all of us down to his basement bedroom…and then closed and locked the door. I thought that that was interesting, but I made no comment. Eric then turned to me, and said: “So John, this is totally up to you, so don’t panic, but Mike, Brandon and Greg would like to participate in our role play this afternoon.”
I just stood there, looking at him. Initially, I didn’t know what to even think.
“Are you OK, John”, Eric asked. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t believe you’re even OK with this, Eric”, I replied. “You’re actually willing to share me with others? Really?”
“Normally, I absolutely would not be!”, he said. “But, well, these are my friends. And this would not be happening behind my back. I’m actually the one who suggested it!”
“Huh”, I said. “So, first of all, how and why did that even happen?”, I asked. “I thought all three of them had girlfriends…”
Eric replied: “Oh, they do. You know that. But earlier this morning, while you were taking the SAT, Greg started asking me why I had apparently switched from having girlfriends to boyfriends. That started a big discussion among the four of us about guys having sex with guys, what it was like, what sorts of things we actually did, and why I preferred that to having sex with girls, that sort of thing. Anyway, long story short, that got me thinking, so I just flat out asked them whether they might be interested in giving it a try, themselves.”
“That’s pretty much what happened”, Greg interjected—interrupting what Eric had been about to say. “And John, if you don’t want to do this, that’s totally OK. We would completely understand. The last thing we’d want to do would be to cause any sort of rift between you and Eric.”
“Right,” both Misha and Brandon said, in unison.
“OK, but how did you get from suggesting they ‘give it a try’ to offering to have them be part of our role play?”, I asked.
“My response to Eric’s suggestion was ‘How can we do that?’?”, said Brandon. “It’s not like we could just walk up to some dude and ask to fuck them.”
“So, Brandon’s question caused me to consider whether you might be willing to help them out—and whether I might be willing to permit it,” said Eric.
“Hence this discussion”, I commented. “So, obviously, you decided you’d be willing to permit it. But that still doesn’t answer the question, ‘Why involve them in our role play’?”
“Because doing it that way lets them choose to do, or not do, whatever they’re comfortable with doing—they’ll be able to ‘talk themselves into’ whatever they decide they’d like to try, or talk themselves out of it, without losing face, and without making any real-world commitments”, Eric explained.
“Exactly”, said Misha. “It’s brilliant: Actors in a play can do things that they can claim—both to others, and to themselves—didn’t actually mean anything.”
“It also will let me oversee whatever happens”, noted Eric.
“I see”, was my initial response. After a pause, I continued: “But..doing this would forever change our relationship. You all understand that, right?”
“Good point”, said Greg. The other three all nodded.
Eric asked, “John’s right. Is everyone OK with that?”
“We’re all about to graduate, and then go our separate ways. That is going to forever change our relationship, regardless. My girlfriend and I are facing the same reality,” observed Brandon.
“Another good point”, replied Greg.
“So what’s the story, John? How do you feel about this”, Eric asked.
“You all really want to do this?”, I asked.
All four answered in the affirmative. So I said, “OK. I’m in. But I don’t think we can do this at Eric’s—at least not today, while Eric’s parents are home.” If including his three friends in our sexual role playing was what Eric wanted, I was not going to deny him. Not happening.
“Right”, said Eric. “John and I always try to have sex only when our parents aren’t home.” He decided to exclude any mention of what might, possibly, happen during the night, when everyone was supposedly asleep.
“So..we have to wait until Monday?”, asked Greg.
“No, not at all”, said Eric. “We just go to John’s house: His mother works weekends.”
“Apartment. Not a house”, I corrected him.
“Right. By ‘house,’ I just meant the place where you live,” Eric replied. A prescriptive lexicographer would have scored Eric’s use of the word house’ in that context as semantically incorrect. A scientific (descriptive) linguist would have noted it as a data point regarding the semantics of the word ‘house’ as it is actually used in the wild. Upon realizing that, I silently corrected myself.
“How far is that from here?”, Misha asked.
“About a 30 minute walk—probably less”, answered Eric.
“Then let’s get going”, said Brandon. “Yeah, I’m actually eager to get started”, added Greg.
“Hold up”, I said. “We should first agree on the role playing scenario.”
“Why?”, asked Misha.
“Because I don’t want to be discussing that while we’re walking to my place: I don’t want to have to worry about being overheard while we’re talking about that”, I said. “And also because we should all have time to think about the scenario, and how we want to play our character”, I added. That was an insight I had gained over the past few days.
“He’s right”, said Eric. “That also makes sure that everyone is on board with the scenario, before we all actually take that half-hour walk.”, he added. Eric had probably had the same insight.
“What scenario did you have in mind, Eric?”, I asked.
“I didn’t”, he replied. “This is not for me or you, John. It’s for Misha, Brandon and Greg. They should work that out.”
“Well, in that case…”, Greg started to say, but then paused. The three of them were obviously giving the matter some thought. Finally, Greg continued:
“How about this: Eric, Brandon, Misha and I are all living in a frat house. John and Eric are friends. John’s father, who had been supporting his living expenses at college, has unexpectedly died. John informs Eric of this, and of the fact that he won’t be able to afford to pay his rent next month, unless he can get a job in the next 2 weeks. The scene starts with Eric’s response.”
“So, we’d all be playing ourselves, just in an alternate reality?”, I asked.
“Right,” said Greg.
“And the expectation is that Eric ‘makes me an offer I shouldn’t refuse’?”, I continued.
“Yep,” was all Greg said.
“I think I can handle that,” said Eric.
“Sounds like a plan”, said Brandon.
“So it’s settled, then?”, asked Misha.
We all answered in the affirmative. We then set out on the walk to my place. We arrived just after 2:15 pm. I could only hope that this wouldn’t blow up in our faces.
I showed Brandon, Misha and Greg around the apartment. While doing so, a thought occurred to me: What if one or more of the other four wanted to try anal sex? I took Eric aside, and raised that issue with him privately. He said he thought it best to handle that issue (cleaning me out with an enema) only if one or more of the other three “went there.” He didn’t think that that was likely.
We all took seats in the living room, and Eric and I prepared to hold the initial conversation, as outlined by Greg.
The Curtain Rises
“Very sorry to hear about your father, John. And about your rent situation”, he said. “But I may have a solution to your rent problem, if you’d like to hear it”, he added, after a pause.
“I’m all ears”, I replied.
“What if I told you that I might know of a place where you could stay, rent free?”, he asked.
“Well, the ‘rent free’ part would work for me. But what’s the catch?”, I asked.
“You’re right to ask that”, he replied. “‘The catch,’ as you’ve called it, is not entirely up to me: I live in a frat house, with three other fraternity brothers”, he explained. “We’d have to get their buy-in.”
“How? By providing maid services? Doing the dishes? Doing everyone’s laundry? What?”, I asked.
“Well, I can’t speak for the others. Some of them might be OK with that deal. But that wouldn’t cut it for me”, Eric replied.
“So..what would you want, then?”, I asked.
Just so you know: The way Eric and I collaborated to give each of our three friends a “get out of gay sex” card was totally unplanned. No prior collusion, at all. But I thought that Eric deserved more of the credit.
“Please keep in mind that I’m just trying to help you out”, he said. “Yeah, I’m trying to help myself out, too. But we haven’t really known each other all that long, and..well..I’m just not willing to share my room at the frat house with you without getting something in return”, he explained.
“OK. I get that”, I said. “But you’re making it sound like you fear that I won’t like what you’re about to say”, I replied.
“You’re right: I do fear that. I just want to make sure you know that I mean no offense. So here it is: I’d be willing to provide not just free rent, but also food, and gas for your car, in exchange for blow jobs. One reason for that is that the frat house rules forbid us from having females as visitors, unless they’re direct relatives.”
“You mean, even if you had a girlfriend, you couldn’t take her to your place to have sex?”, I asked.
“Right. And my frat brothers have the same problem”, he said. “That’s why I think they might be willing to go for the same deal.”
“But it’s all moot, unless all four of you agree to the same deal? Or at least, agree to have me living with you guys in the frat house?”, I asked.
“Exactly”, he replied.
“I see….”, I said, pretending to think it over. I happened to glance over at Greg, and noticed that he had a huge hard on. This was the scenario he had suggested, playing out, so that actually made sense. I wondered whether the reason he had been able to come up with this scenario so quickly was because it was one of his sexual fantasies.
“Well, before I commit either way, I think we should find what your three frat bothers think of this idea”, I stated.
“Of course”, replied Eric. “Meet me back here in the cafeteria, once the last class of the day gets out. We can go by foot to the frat house, where we can present the idea to my frat brothers.”
“Sure”, I said.
[Note: College is not high school; student class schedules can differ not only by subject, but also by when the last class of the day happens to be scheduled—but none of us knew that at the time.]
Eric picked up on the fact that we had reached a natural scene break, so he switched roles from one of the actors to what we would now call the “dungeon master” (or, as I thought of it at the time, he “went meta”):
“OK, time to move forward in time to where John and I have arrived at the frat house. Should we assume all three of you are here at the frat house, already? Or would you prefer to each arrive one at a time, so that you can negotiate with John independently?”, he asked, turning his attention to Brandon, Misha and Greg.
“Guys, that was excellent acting!”, said Greg. “Especially not having rehearsed your lines from a pre-written script”, he added.
“Thanks”, I said, blushing.
“We’ve had a lot of practice this past week,” commented Eric.
“It shows”, said Brandon.
“I know that Eric is taking drama”, said Misha. “But John, there’s only one drama class, and I know you’re not in it.”
So drama was one of Eric’s other classes. Apparently, that class did not assign homework? Or, like me, he didn’t need to do homework for that subject? Or perhaps what we had been doing for the past week was his homework? I also realized that it made total sense for someone whose passion (professionally / academically) was psychology to be taking drama courses (and vice versa, for that matter.) The other implication was that Misha was also in Eric’s drama class.
“Right. My previous experience is zero”, I said.
“Now I’m really impressed”, said Greg—referring to my acting chops, I had to assume.
“So then, what’s the verdict?”, I asked. “A group negotiation? Or one-on-one?”
Misha, Brandon and Greg all looked at each other. Finally, Misha spoke up: “To make this whole thing work, should’t it be a rule that, at a minimum, each of the three of us must at least agree to let John stay with us in the frat house? Even if we don’t require anything in return?”
“Right”, said Brandon and Greg, almost simultaneously.
“Doesn’t that mean that the negotiations should be one-on-one?”, asked Greg. “We’ll all know how each negotiation turns out, either way”, he added.
“That might simplify things”, I observed. “Less confusion due to multi-party interference.”
“So, who wants to go first?”, asked Eric.
“I will”, Greg said instantly. We all noted Greg’s enthusiasm.
“Actually, shouldn’t Eric and I both be parties to each negotiation?”, I asked. “He would at least need to make the introductions.”
“Yeah..I guess so”, said Greg.
“So, Eric and I arrive at the frat house, and when we do, the only one home is Greg? Where do you want us to find you, Greg?”, I asked.
“Sitting on the couch, in the living room”, he answered.
“OK, then. Let’s resume: John and I enter the frat house, and we find Greg sitting on the couch”, Eric said—after which he took off his dungeon master hat, and put his actor hat back on:
“Hi Greg! How’s it hangin’?”, Eric started things off.
“Hi Eric! Who’s that you have with you?”, he asked.
“Greg, meet John. John, meet Greg”, Eric said. So, playing our parts, we both shook hands.
“I’ve brought John here because he has a problem that I’m hoping we can help him with”, said Eric.
“Oh? What’s the issue?”, Greg asked.
Eric and I proceeded to collaboratively explain that I wouldn’t be able to pay my rent for the next month, and why.
“I see”, said Greg. “And how do you think we might be able to help?”, he asked—looking at Eric.
“I was thinking that we could let him stay here—with us—perhaps in exchange for providing us with certain services”, Eric answered.
“Knowing you, Eric, the ‘certain services’ you’d want would be nightly blow jobs”, Greg said, matter of factly.
“You know me too well”, replied Eric.
“Does John know that already? Has he already agreed to that?”, asked Greg.
“Yes, I knew. But no, I have not agreed: I didn’t want to agree to anything like that, without first knowing that all four of you would be OK with my staying here, for whatever reason”, I stated. “And, to be honest, even if all four of you agree to let me stay here, I still haven’t decided whether or not I’d be OK with such an arrangement.”
“In other words, you want to know whether I, and the other two you haven’t even met yet, might agree to let you stay here? And what conditions we’d each want to impose?”, he asked.
“That’s about the size of it”, I replied.
“Well, I can’t agree to anything like that, without first sampling the quality of the service”, he said. “But you probably would’t want to do that, without first knowing that the others are willing to at least give you a chance”, he added.
“Actually, that’s a good point”, said Eric. “Although, I’d be willing to train him to be a world-class cock sucker—but he’d have to be willing to obey me, to give me total sexual submission,” he added.
Greg looked at Eric, then at me, and then asked, “So John, I know Eric well enough to know that I can trust him to do what he just said. Would you be willing to do what Eric would require of you? Assuming the other three of us provisionally agree to let you stay, based on our trust in Eric’s expertise?”
“You’re suggesting that you wouldn’t need a personal demonstration in advance, as long as Eric will vouch for the quality of the services I’d be providing?”, I asked.
“Right. So, I think that means that that same arrangement will be acceptable to the others—assuming they’ll even be interested in having you suck their cocks at all”, he replied. “They might not be.”
Well, that was interesting. I got the strong impression that I’d be sucking Greg’s cock, before this was over.
The negotiations with Misha, and then Brandon, went very similarly. Both decided to use my negotiation with Greg as a template for their own.
After the negotiation with Brandon, Eric again took off his actor’s hat, and put on his dungeon master’s hat:
“We could continue this in two different ways”, he announced: “We could act out my ‘testing’ of John, or we could just assume that that went well, and that I’ve vouched for the ‘quality of his services.’ Which would you guys prefer?”
“I think I’d like to see Eric put John to the test”, said Brandon.
“I agree”, said Misha.
“Hmmm… I guess I can see the value in that”, said Greg. “Seeing how it’s done would be educational….and might make us more comfortable about actually going through with this.” Greg had obviously been ready to go.
“In the interests of brevity, we’ll need to skip what it actually requires to break a new cock sucker in”, Eric said. “We’ll act it out as though that can all be done in one go. Just understand that that’s usually not true—even if the person has no gag reflex. And of course, in John’s case, I’ve already taken care of all of that for you guys. But if you ever do need to break in a new cocksucker, please talk to me first—even if you have to make a long-distance call across the country. And that applies to any girls you want to have broken in, too.”
“Ain’t no one gonna turn that offer down”, said Brandon, grinning.
“OK then. So John, we’ll use your bedroom as the ‘prop’ for my room in the frat house. The others can stand in the room and watch. We’ll start the scene with both of us in my frat room, with the next order of business being my taking control, instructing you regarding what I want you to do”, he instructed, using his dungeon master authority.
We all filed in to my room. On the way in, Eric grabbed a towel from the towel closet in the hallway.
Eric put his actor hat back on: “OK, John, lay down on the bed, flat on your back, with your feet pointing towards the head of the bed, and your head pointing towards the foot.” I knew that he was now in character simply because those were the instructions that he used to have to give me, but hadn’t needed to for weeks, now. I did as he had instructed, without comment.
Eric handed me the towel, and instructed me on how to use it as a bib. Yet more words I would have no longer needed in real life. He then took off his pants, and his boxer shorts, walked up to my head, and placed the head of his dick to my lips, and said, “Open up, Johnny.” So I did.
He hadn’t been fully hard yet, but quickly became so, by using my mouth get himself fully aroused. Then he forced himself all the way down my throat, in a single stroke. I heard three people gasp.
“Never do that with someone who hasn’t been fully broken in”, Eric advised—clearly breaking out of the scene, temporarily. “And also, don’t stay in the throat too long: You have to give your guy—or girl—the chance to breathe.”
He then proceeded to fuck my face—quite vigorously. I’d estimate that he came after about 15 minutes or so, after which he pulled out, and then dismounted off of the bed.
“As you saw for yourself, John’s quality of service is quite high. I’m fully satisfied”, he announced.
“HOLE LEE FUCK!!!,” said Greg. “You’re definitely going to have to teach me how to train my girlfriend to be able to do what John just did!” Greg was so impressed, he reverted to real life, leaving the character he was playing (himself, I know) stranded.
“No problem”, said Eric—playing both his real-life self and also his character. “Just don’t be surprised if she—or most girls—will not agree to being trained to do that,” he replied.
“But guys are generally more agreeable?”, asked Brandon. Brandon was also being ambiguous about whether that was a real-life question or one coming just from his character. It could be taken as either one—or both.
“Yes, and no”, he said. “A girl is far more likely to agree to have sex with you than a guy. But if a guy is willing to have sex with you at all, then he’s far more likely to let you train him the way I’ve trained John.” More of a real-life answer.
“I think I’m beginning to understand”, said Greg. Also more of a real-life comment.
“Why don’t you go next, Greg?”, said Eric.
“I think I will”, said Greg, who proceeded to take off his pants and boxer briefs. I noticed that he was rather well hung—and quite hard, already. Not as big as Eric, of course, but probably at least 9 inches. He walked up to the foot of the bed—just as Eric had done—placed the head of his dick to my lips. I opened my mouth for him, and he tentatively and shyly inserted his dick into my mouth. He didn’t initially try to plunge himself down my throat, but began to fuck my mouth.
Eric watched him for a while, and then commented, “Greg, don’t be afraid to fuck his throat—balls deep.” In response, Greg started to try to push farther and farther down my throat with each down stroke. He was timid about it, but after a few minutes, he was going balls deep every time. It probably took him about 10 minutes to come. His load was massive. And his vocalizations were quite something, too. He didn’t even have the strength to walk, afterwards. Eric and Misha had to help get him off of me.
“That was…that was…I don’t have the words! I think I’m forever changed”, he announced. Misha had to hold him; he couldn’t stand without help, yet.
As for me, the way I would describe how I felt would have been perfectly captured by that meme in which Steve Urkel (Jaleel White) is quoted as saying, “Did I do that?”
So Brandon was the next at bat: After taking off his pants and boxers, I saw that he was also fully hard already: Maybe 7.5 inches, but very thick. He was far less timid than Greg had been. He had been paying attention, and needed no additional instructions. After about 20 minutes, he also came quite profusely, and was quite vocal about it. But he was able to stand, afterwards—even if he was a bit unsteady. He made no comment.
Finally, it was Misha’s turn. He announced, “You know, I wasn’t sure I was going to actually go through with this. But after having witnessed all of that…”
He took off his pants and boxers, and performed like a trooper. I’d say that he was in between Greg and Brandon, both in length and girth. But he was an absolute wild man, sexually. His load was the smallest of the three, but he was also at least as incapacitated, once he had come—which took him about 15 minutes. Greg and Eric had to help him dismount, and then had to help him stand.
Once he had recovered sufficiently to talk, his only comment was, “God damn, Eric! You’ve got yourself another student. You need to have your own sex dojo. Award Black Belts in oral sex mastery.”
We all laughed.
And with that, the curtain fell, we got ourselves cleaned up, and made ourselves presentable in polite society.
Looking at the time, I told them that my mother would be home in about 2 hours or so, and then asked whether they’d like to go play pool at the apartment complex’s rec center. They liked that idea, so that’s what we did. But I left a note for my mother, letting her know that there would be 5 of us for dinner, not just 2.
“Won’t you guys need to get permission from your parents, to stay here for dinner?”, Eric asked—clearly addressing the other three.
“It’s Saturday night, so my parental curfew isn’t until 11 pm”, commented Greg.
“Same here”, said Mishah.
“Things change, once you’re 18”, said Brandon. “Of course, the fact that tomorrow is not a school day also helps”, he added. Brandon already had the makings of a fine lawyer.
Misha, Greg and Brandon got introduced to our community pool table, and to the regulars who played pool there every night. I gave them rudimentary instruction on how to actually make the billiard balls do what you wanted them to do. They seemed to have enjoyed themselves immensely.
On the way back to my apartment, Eric asked the other three, “So, was that enough to satisfy your curiosity? Or will you be wanting to do that again?”
Everyone knew he was not referring to billiards.
Greg was the first to respond: “Are you offering a repeat, Eric? ‘Cause if you are, I accept.”
“I’m not the only one who needs to approve”, Eric responded. So Greg turned to address me, and said: “John?”
I looked over to Eric, who nodded at me. So I said, “Whatever Eric wants. I belong to him.”
Responding to Eric’s initial query, Misha said, “I wouldn’t turn down such an offer, Eric.”
Brandon then said, “I have to think about it.”
Eric then said, “Well..If John would just say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ then I’d just say the same. But he’s delegating the decision to me. And that makes me uncomfortable. Last thing I would ever want to be is John’s pimp.”
“Seems like neither one of you wants to decide for the other”, commented Greg.
“We’re creating a recursive feedback loop by the fact that each of us is making our answer a function of what the other one wants”, I observed.
“Now that there is such a John thing to say,” commented Brandon.
“Think of it as analogous to a microphone connected to an amp connected to speaker, such that the sound picked up by the mic is being re-emitted by the speaker, creating a sound that is being picked by the mic that is being re-emitted by the speaker, etc. And every time the feedback loops around, the sound emitted by the speaker gets louder”, I explained.
“Oh. I think I’ve heard that happen before”, said Misha.
We had to end the conversation there, because we had reached the stairs going up the front door of my apartment. And my mother was certainly home.
My mother very graciously cooked dinner for all five of us. So we very graciously praised her cooking to high heaven, washed all the dishes, and put everything away. Just like the righteous, upright, wholesome teenage boys she probably thought we were—even though we were not.
While we were doing that, a now-infamous song was being sung in my head:
Chip the glasses, crack the plates!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates,
So carefully, carefully with the plates!
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
Smash the bottles, burn the corks!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates,
So carefully, carefully with the plates!
Greg, Brandon and Misha then headed home, while Eric and I got ready for bed, and then slept in each other’s arms. But before we fell asleep, we had a long, deep conversation about what had happened, and how we felt about it. I think—I hope—that I convinced Eric that all I cared about was his happiness.
We continued the conversation when we woke up the next morning. Eric successfully convinced me that what makes him happy is making me happy. And he also convinced me that what makes me happiest is being sexually dominated—especially by him, but also by others whom I respect and/or like. That is, after all, why having my face power-fucked by 4 different guys the previous day had made me feel so good, right?
I could not prove him wrong.
