Spammer by Anel Viz

“Spammer”

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(Author’s note: In keeping with the theme of Internet spam, I have not given the main character of this story a name.)

8. What if...?

“Short date,” he said when Norm walked in the door not much more than an hour after he’d left. “She stand you up or something?”

“Not exactly. You stood him up.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He told him what he’d done. “He won’t be bothering you anymore. He’s scared shitless.”

“Of you?”

“Of my big mouth.”

“Who is he?”

“I said I wouldn’t tell.”

“What if you did? Would he know any different?”

“He might. From the way you looked at him.”

“So it’s someone I know?”

“Someone we both know.”

“Somebody from work?”

“I’m not telling.”

“But it is a guy.”

“Yes, it’s a guy.”

“It has to be some guy from work if we both know him.”

“Maybe.”

“About how old?”

“Quit it with the twenty questions already. I ain’t gonna tell you and that’s that. Why’d you want to know, anyway?”

“Just curious.”

“You weren’t curious enough to find out for yourself. You had every chance in the world.”

“I thought I knew who it was.”

“Me? Well, it wasn’t. You think I went somewhere to meet myself?”

“I used to think it was you. Once I found out it wasn’t I didn’t care. And just in case you haven’t guessed, I’m mad at you for doing it.”

“You gonna miss getting his emails?”

“Fuck the emails. It was a stupid thing to do. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“In a public place?”

“Not like that. I mean in trouble.”

“What for? For going to meet some jerk?”

“What if it was a set up?”

“It was a set up. I set him up.”

“He could’ve been setting you – that is, me – up too.”

“What kind of set up?”

“To expose me as queer. You saw the emails. He didn’t suspect you. And then what if you show up and...”

“I have his emails, the ones he sent me thinking it was you. All you have to do is read them to see he’s the one hitting on you and you couldn’t be less interested.”

“You were still taking a risk. What if you started punching the guy out? He’d bring assault charges against you. You hit me, or have you forgotten that?”

They lay together in a bed a long time, just thinking their own thoughts. Then Norm said, “If you really want to know who it was, it’s Joel. You have all of tomorrow to compose a straight face for Monday.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why would I make something like that up?”

“I’d never have guessed.”

“Me neither, not even when he came in the bar. Not till I saw him in that dumb hat.”

“I thought it had to be some guy at the gym.”

“Someone’s been eyeing you there?”

“Not anyone in particular, not the same guy all the time, as far as I’ve noticed. Lot’s of guys check the others out, to see if they’re bigger than them, I suppose. I do.”

“But not to see if they’re bigger. You just like cock, you old fairy,” Norm said, nuzzling up to him.

“You’d check them out too.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Like hell!”

“I like the one I got.”

“Not one. Two.” He reached over and put Norm’s hand on his penis, then lay his on Norm’s.

“I love ’em both. You still mad?”

“Uh-uh.”

Their cocks were slowly filling with blood beneath their hands. He felt the sticky wetness leaking out from under Norm’s foreskin and closed his lips over the silky knob. The dicks he used to imagine himself sucking in his lean years had all resembled his, cut. He’d come to appreciate the advantage of that little extra flap, though what he liked most about it was that it belonged to Norm.

They didn’t speak much when the made love. Their couplings were anything but silent, but their words few, things like “You’re so beautiful” and “That feels good.” Neither of them ever talked dirty or needed to tell the other what they felt like doing. Somehow they were always in the mood for the same thing.

That night he wanted to be passive, to let Norm take charge, as he had with Joel, and within minutes of getting into sixty-nine position Norm had slid his tongue between his buttocks. His prostate woke to the tickling around his hole, swelled, and communicated its warm pleasure to his loins and the back of his thighs. As if he could feel the iridescence behind the rosebud he was rimming, Norm’s cock stiffened like rebar in his mouth. Soon all other sensations dissolved in the exaltation of being fucked.

His right hand moved wildly, at a speed more frenetic than the thrusting inside him could duplicate. For many years his only lover, it now came into play only when he lay on his back like this, his legs in the air, staring up at Norm, who looked lovingly into his eyes throughout his exertions. He came, and Norm pulled out, stirred their combined seed pooled on his belly, gave him his fingers to lick – their spam, they called it – then cleaned up what was left with his tongue.

The room was pitch black. The two men, sticky with sweat and drying ejaculate, bathed in the afterglow of their sexual union, Norm’s head resting on his lover’s chest.

“What if you hadn’t thought it was me, and answered and found out it was Joel? Would you have had sex with him?”

“I didn’t answer.”

“Yes you did. You waited until I was eighteen and answered me almost immediately.”

“I never sent you an email.”

“No, you asked me over in person. It’s the same thing. I’m sure you would’ve answered and he’d be here in bed with you right now.”

“Joel’s married. He wouldn’t be here at this hour of the night. Besides, Joel doesn’t turn me on. You do.”

“Anyone could’ve turned you on. You were desperate.”

“Then aren’t we lucky I thought it was you? Christ, Norm, the reason I thought it was you was because I was hot for you. Are you jealous of someone who doesn’t interest me and never did and would only have had sex with because there was nobody else?”

“Not really,” he said, turning his head to kiss his chest hair. “I was just imagining the two of you here, having sex.”

“Pervert! Are you thinking of a three-way?”

“God, no! And you’re calling me a pervert?”

Posted: 10/17/08