18C: I AM JOE’S BRAIN…MAKING PLANS
John laughed and said, “You’re saying that when you and Jack played the trust game - with you in the bottom role - you…um…asked your partner to come all the way in?”
"No, man, I’m saying I fucking begged Jack to fuck me in the ass," I answered. "But before I tell you about that - though there’s not much more to tell - besides me wanting to show you that I wouldn’t fuck you in the ass even if you begged me, the other reason, the real reason I’m asking you to consider a reciprocal ‘trust test’ is because you’ll be an even more trustworthy, and therefore an even ‘better,’ top if you know what having just a little bit of cock in your ass feels like…and you experience just a little bit of that vulnerability. So don’t answer me now, but think about it, please?" I asked.
"I’ll think about it," John said. And I knew he’d think hard about it, because I knew he wanted to be the best top he could be.
"So…about Jack’s ‘trust test’ with me. We did everything Jack told you to do yesterday…we went over the rules, showered, fingered each other, rimming, lubing, the works. Well, we did everything but one thing. After he inserted the head of his cock, and just a little bit more," I said, recalling Jack’s admission that he had fudged an extra inch, "Jack sucked my nipples, stroked my cock, but of course he didn’t suck it—"
"Of course not," John interjected. "Oh, wait - who went first?"
"My knob in his hole," I said.
"How did that feel to you?" John asked, then added, "dumb question, I guess."
I laughed. “To paraphrase Jack, ‘Feeling that tight hole contract around the head of your cock…priceless.’ It felt like I wanted to fuck him…but I stuck to the rules.
"And feeling Jack inside me, there’s not much left to tell…Jack had the head of his cock inside my ass for 3 or 4, no more than 4 minutes, before I was literally begging him to throw away his rule book and fuck the shit out of me. And John, before I had those couple of inches of cock in my hole, I truly had had zero interest in being fucked in the ass…and before I was inside Jack, I had no interest in fucking him. I was just humoring him and playing a game because he wouldn’t let it drop.
"But I’m not saying that what I felt in both positions was roughly equivalent, because it wasn’t even close. Four minutes, max, of Jack’s knob in my hole…drove me wild. I really can’t describe it, or why I reacted like I did…it was like…with two inches of my hole plugged…the rest of it felt so…empty.
"So, yeah, I begged, pleaded, demanded that Jack fill me all the way up. Of course, he wouldn’t, couldn’t, because he had promised he wouldn’t…even if I begged him to. For what it’s worth," I added, "Jack later told me that not fucking me then was the hardest thing he had ever done."
[I checked my cock but it was still lying mostly flat. If I had sprouted a boner at anything I had planned to tell John, I figured the part I had just told would’ve been the time.]
"Well, not that I doubted what you said last night," John said, "but I certainly see why you’re so sure Jack was trying to get you fucked and soon - and that he believed we’d already gone all the way."
"Right. He expected that I would respond the same way - and John, I might or I might not, but it’s no reflection on you if I show more self control now than I did five years ago - and he doesn’t believe you can show as much self control as he did."
"I get all of that…what I don’t get is why Jack didn’t just pull out, make sure you really wanted to go ahead, then give you exactly what you asked for," John said.
"Oh, that. That’s a new rule," I said, "the rules in effect when we were 17 didn’t have that ‘full speed ahead’ provision. He couldn’t fuck me until, I guess the next day…either one of us reacting like I did just wasn’t something we had even considered. And by the next day, I had decided I was not going to be a bottom - period - not even for Jack. My loss of control scared the shit out of me - both my loss of control over my own desire…and not having any control over the cock inside me.
"Jack tried to get me to fuck - still reciprocally - a few times after that, but I always said ‘no.’ Our boundaries went back to ‘no cocks in any holes.’ He found other guys to fuck and I found other guys to suck. Unfortunately, though, I was still obsessed with blowing Jack."
"A pair of star-crossed lovers…" John mused.
"In a way…more like we just did’t ‘fit’ - I needed oral and he couldn’t go there, he wanted anal and I wouldn’t go there."
"In fairness, I ought to say that when I ruled out fucking, Jack didn’t pester the shit out me to change my mind. He suggested it two or three times - when I was pestering the shit out of him to let me suck his dick. Honestly, I just could not let it go. He was way more patient with me than I ever deserved.
"So Jack came up with his other great idea to get me over that hump…that’s the other part of the story I mentioned last night, about how Jack ‘made’ me fuck this chick named Lacy. ‘The Fuck Itself.’"
"Before you go there, can I ask a couple questions?" John asked.
"Sure," I said.
"Any regrets you guys didn’t fuck then?" John asked.
"Immediately after, none…then I was relieved. Later, after Jack was fucking other guys and I felt…left out…and thinking about the feeling of him inside me…yes and no. Sometimes I wished he had fucked me that night, but I also knew it was probably for the best that that was as far as we had gone…because…"
"Because?" John asked.
"Because we really might have lost ourselves in each other…more than we already had." I replied.
"Last question. Joe, have you ever let go of it, gotten over your fixation on blowing Jack?" John asked.
"Truth Serum?" I responded. "You have a vial of Truth Serum. Without it, I’d say that I at least learned to control it. After Lacy, The Fuck Itself, I never suggested, hinted, asked, offered, to blow Jack again, I’ve never raised the subject again. I don’t know if that’s the truest possible way I could answer your question or not - but you can use Truth Serum if you want to find that out."
John thought just a very few seconds. “It’s not essential for me to know that,” he said, “not now, anyway. That’s enough for now.”
"C’mere and kiss me," I said, "I can’t really get to you." John leaned down to me and I kissed him on the mouth and then hugged him. John held me quietly for a couple of minutes, and then I felt his hand rest gently on my cock. I lifted my face to his neck and kissed it softly, moving slowly up to his ear. I whispered, "I love you, John." He started to say "I —" but I put my finger on his lips and whispered, "ssshhh…not now."
My cock stirred at John’s touch, but I wasn’t thinking about having sex then, I was thinking about talking about something I really didn’t want to talk about. So I was caught completely off guard when I suddenly felt my fat cock being slurped into John’s mouth and it began to swell (in a good way).
"John…" I protested (weakly). John kept lapping and sucking on my dick until it was mostly hard. Then he paused and said, "You said yourself that the rest of what’s on your mind can keep a couple of days." And then his mouth was rising and falling on a good solid boner, while one of his hands tugged gently on my balls.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the attention. “Finger me,” I whispered, “pretty hard, ok?” “Two fingers…” I mumbled. John vanished and was back in a second with lube. He propped my ass up on a pillow and I pulled my legs back as much as my bum ankle would allow. John had two fingers inside me almost as deep as they would go and he spread them apart to expand my rectum. He alternated massaging my prostate and spreading his fingers. “That’s some sick fucking mojo…” I said, “I’ve got my cock…you just keep doing that…” I whispered. Then, “now three fingers…”
"Joe—" We had never tried three fingers and I know he was worried about hurting me.
"Two…then the third…very slowly. If I say ‘stop,’ just stop…I’m not going to let you hurt me."
John slowly got three fingers part of the way in my hole, probably not past the first knuckle. And it did hurt. I asked him to stop, not take them out, but just pause, a couple of times, and he did exactly what I asked. And I was taking care of my cock while John stretched my hole and rotated his fingers inside me. I paid close attention to the pleasure, centered in the first couple of inches (or less) of my rectum, and ignored the pain.
"Oh fuck I’m about to cum…hurry…find my prostate again…" and I felt all three fingers push further in, and that hurt more, but in an inexplicably good way.
‘Holy fuuuckk,” I gasped as I felt fingertips pressing in the right spot and I had my second terrific orgasm of the day. “That was so fucking intense,” I think I heard myself say, as I wiped my own cum off my face and chest.
After I caught my breath, I said, “Tell me this…is your cock thicker than three of your fingers…it’s not, is it?”
John didn’t answer right away, and I knew the answer to that question by the look on his face.
"Don’t tell me," I said, "I don’t want to know."
Roommates hard as Chinese arithmetic/2.
Breaking in the roommate.
18B: I AM JACK’S DICK…WITH A GREAT IDEA
[from the archives of Jack’s Brain; Jack’s Cock does not maintain archives]
Jack’s Cock: Hey I’ve got a great idea…basically we just take a quick look-see inside Joe’s ass…see if we want to move in…
Jack’s Brain: Are you out of your fucking…Nevermind. Don’t answer that, dickhead. Haven’t you ever heard about playing with fire?
Jack’s Cock: Sure. I love to play with fire. Why?
Jack’s Brain: Trust me, dickbreath, it’s a spectacularly bad idea…they’re brothers, for crying out loud.
Jack’s Cock: WTF? Of course they’re bros - that’s why we’re so compatible.
Jack’s Brain: You probably run with scissors, too.
Jack’s Cock: Chill, dude..all I do is slip my periscope inside, see what’s up. Just an inch, see, maybe two…three if no one’s looking. If it looks good up in there…BAM. And I am fucking me some Joe…
Jack’s Brain: Do you even hear yourself? Please just STFU…and fuck off!
Jack’s Cock: No, YOU fuck off! For someone who’s supposed to be such a ‘brain,’ you sure are a fucking dumbass.
"Anyway," I said to John, "by the time Jack started coming up with his great ideas to redirect my focus away from blowing him - well, he understood it would never just be ONE blow job, you know - he was going both ways, guys and girls. He really did like girls, too, and had fucked…I don’t know…plenty… by the time we were 17, or before we were 18, anyway. And I wasn’t interested in chicks. I mean I’d go out with girls occasionally because that’s what high school guys do. And I’d even get hard when we were kissing and I was feeling their tits and shit, so I figured, you know, if I HAD to fuck some chick one day, I could do it. But I didn’t WANT to fuck a girl."
"This shit is fascinating to me…don’t know where this is going, but I want to hear more," John said. "I don’t know if I told you this or not," he added, "and if I told you, implied, anything along these lines, when we were just…buds…when you were fucking that chick at the beginning of the semester…then I probably lied. But the truth is I’ve never been with a girl. Zero desire."
That may have been the very first time I’d even remembered Bambi had ever been alive since John and I had collided in the hallway wearing only jockstraps…and you know the rest of that story. I just nodded and said, “You didn’t lie. I just made the wrong assumption. But you’ll understand, then, when I say that when I was 17, 18, I didn’t want to fuck chicks. What I wanted to do was suck cock,” I continued, “and I did that, plenty, well never enough, but you know what I mean.
"What I really wanted to do, as you know, was to suck Jack’s cock…and I was…uh…pretty relentless about it. You know that his deal about that wasn’t that he was opposed to having his dick sucked, but he was adamant that he was not sucking cock himself - he said he was just grossed out by the idea of having a cock in his mouth. So, I’m like, fine, I’d tell him, ‘no problem, you don’t have to suck me, I’ve never asked you to blow me, just let me blow you,’ shit like that, right? John, I mean, I would fucking beg him to let me suck him off. Pleaded. I was fucking pathethic.
"But it wasn’t like he wasn’t into me, too, even after he started banging girls…because he was still into me. We’d come in late at night - shit, sometimes right after Jack had nailed some bimbo - and we’d start kissing and groping each other, undressing each other, we’d be all over each other’s cocks while Jack’s filling me in on his escapades - but all over each other’s cocks only with our hands. Or cocks - when we stumbled into frotting, my God…"
"Jesus Christ, Joe, are you ok?" There were tears, just a few, streaming down my cheeks again. "Really, I’m fine, I’m emotional as hell, is all, I guess about…you fucking me in the ass, I don’t know. I know I’m rambling but I need to tell you this."
"Another whiskey?" John asked. I considered my exam the next morning and said, "Maybe a beer instead." He grabbed a couple of beers while I rearranged my throbbing (in a bad way) ankle. Then I started talking again.
"So, I’ve told you that Jack flatly refused to even consider having a cock in his mouth, which I got, or accepted, no big deal, and that he was just as determined that whatever we did we reciprocated—"
" Right," John interjected.
"So Jack would be, like, you know, ‘no fucking way can I suck a cock, not even yours, Joe, and I’d feel so fucking guilty if you were blowing me…and I wouldn’t, couldn’t return…so that’s just not going to happen."
"Joe, what’s behind his…aversion, do you know?" John asked. "I mean, I get that sucking cock is not Jack’s deal…but what you’re describing is more..sounds more like…"
"More like there is, was, a prime cause? I don’t know. I could speculate, but that would just be a wild ass guess. I’ve got nothing against making wild ass guesses, you understand, but not now. And besides…well, nevermind.
" God help him, but Jack did feel terrible about cockblocking my mouth—"
John laughed, “I don’t really think it’s cockblocking if you’re shielding your own cock…”
"Whatever it was, I should’ve just shut the fuck up about sucking his cock…because I was making him feel like shit. It was like this: ‘I said ‘No.” … ‘I realize you said ‘No,’ but how do really feel…’" or ‘but that was yesterday…what about today?’
"Can you imagine feeling like shit because you WON’T commit incest - or a certain form of incest - because that’s what we’re really talking about? Anyway, as I said, it was just certain forms of incest. I mean, Jack felt so bad for me, he gets this great idea, right? His great idea was that we should "just" fuck each other. He thought fucking girls was cool and had decided that he wanted to fuck a guy, too, and I was the most logical guy for him to fuck."
"But what about reciprocity?" John asked.
"Oh, believe it or not, back then he was all for me fucking him in the ass, too. He said he wanted to experience that at least once, and if it was OK, that was a way we could be…even closer. He was serious about the two of us flip-flopping, at least for a little while."
"And you refused," John said.
"Fuck yeah I refused. Two reasons, one, that really did feel like incest to me, some line we shouldn’t cross - probably it was that unspoken ‘no dicks in holes’ rule you nailed last night, that I hadn’t even recognized, at least, not that way.
"And, two, I just wasn’t into anal at all, had barely given it a thought. Barely - but to the extent I had thought about it, I pretty much had the same reaction - not quite as adamantly - that Jack had to the idea of having a cock in his mouth.
"Since then, of course - and both Jack and I have told you this - Jack has fucked a bunch of guys and, no, as far as I know, he’s never been topped himself. He really is about 160% top. What I think happened is that after I refused to fuck or be fucked by Jack, he went out and fucked this kid on the football team. Well, I know that part happened, because he told me about it. After he fucked that kid he just said he had decided he didn’t want to get fucked in the ass after all. But he kept topping guys, especially jocks. No surprise, he was a straight-acting high school jock and he liked hot athletic guys like himself —"
"And like you," John interjected.
"I dunno…I suppose…" I said.
"Joe, it’s not a supposition…I’m looking at you. And I’m sure there are little differences that allow people who know you both to tell you apart…in the pictures I’ve seen of you two together, though, I can’t distinguish you."
"Jack used to say that he loved the feel of his cock balls-deep in a shortstop…or second baseman."
"Shit, you guys really do tell each other everything, don’t you?" John asked.
"Pretty much, yeah," I admitted, "and when we don’t just volunteer our ‘news’ to each other, the other one usually figures out something’s up - we just somehow know the playing field has changed in some way, like we’re hard-wired together. That was then, you know…we’re a little rusty after 4 years of doing our own things. But even now a couple of pointed questions will flush out whatever the new facts are. And if normal Q&A doesn’t fill in all the blanks, there’s always Truth Serum."
"And no reciprocity with the jocks or whoever Jack fucks" John said, "because he doesn’t ‘really like’ the guy? Is that it, Jack’s revised rule of reciprocity?"
"Correct," I said, then added, "as far as I know."
"And if he does like the guy?" John asked.
"I really don’t know if or how Jack reciprocates now," I said, "but I’m not sure that Jack’s ever said he ‘really likes’ a guy. Of course he ‘really liked’, likes, me, but you already know there are…a special set of rules, a couple anyway, that apply to me."
"Right," John said, "but I suggested last night that Jack’s rules may have changed since you guys were 17…and the more I think about it…." I could almost see the wheels turning in John’s brain so I was quiet while he considered whatever it was he was considering.
"The more I think about it…." John continued, "…and it may sound strange for me to be saying this to a guy who is hard-wired to his identical twin…but I think you’re wrong - Jack’s rules HAVE changed. God knows your own ‘rules’ have changed in the last month, not to mention since you were 17."
"Maybe," I said, "and yes about my rules - I surprise myself at how elastic my own rules can be." I thought about Andrew leaned against the bathroom counter taking my cock up his ass that afternoon. "But I didn’t say Jack’s rules haven’t changed, just that if they have, I don’t know about the changes."
"True…anyway, you were telling me a story…" John said.
I got up out the chair. “I’ve got to do something else with my fucking ankle,” I said as I hobbled toward the couch. “Will you come over here?” I asked, stretching my leg out on the sofa. “You want more ice?” John asked. “Not now, I think it’s had enough.” John pulled a chair over and settled in next to me.
"By the way," he said, "I like that you’re just hanging out nude."
"I fucking hope so," I said, smiling. "So do I, it just feels good. The other reason is that if I get wood telling you any of this shit, you’ll know what turns me on.
"OK, Jack’s great idea that we fuck instead of suck each other," I resumed. "We’re 17, right? I really didn’t want any part of that, but Jack was pretty keen on it - he thought it would replace my blow job…fixation…plus, he really wanted to fuck a guy, and preferably me. He came up with ‘knob-in-the-hole,’ what he described to you yesterday as his ‘trust test.’ He explained to me that we wouldn’t really be fucking, see, but we could both get some idea of what it felt like to have our cock in another guy’s ass, and to have some cock - but not much - in our own asses. Then, depending on how that went, Jack’s idea was that we could start fucking each other if we wanted to. Not 2 minutes later but, say, the next day or whenever.
"Don’t get me entirely wrong - trust was a part of the game even then - but the emphasis when we were 17 was more on getting our knobs into each other’s holes. Jack switched that emphasis when he was texting you yesterday, I assume, because he thought that would be a more plausible way for you to pitch it to me." I laughed then, and said, "and I think all that emphasis on trust was a not-so-subtle dig at me…remember, he knew you weren’t just going to make a pitch to me, he knew I’d be reading it…trust, trust, trust…"
"So what was the dig at you?" John asked.
"Oh, he guessed - again correctly - that I had NOT told you that he and I had played knob-in-the-hole together…and that I wouldn’t really want to tell you about it how it went before you and I played. It’s not a big deal, at least once you get past the idea of 17-year-old brothers experimentally inserting their cocks into each other’s assholes. I figure Jack just saw some humor in you trying to build all this trust with me while the whole time I’m holding back some key info from you…it is kind of funny, I have to admit."
"Except that here you are now telling me about it," John said.
"Who knows, maybe that was the point of Jack’s digs - to ‘make’ me tell you - and I know it WAS a dig, because we never called knob-in-the-hole a "trust test" like Jack was saying yesterday. It was a game that tested us, but we didn’t ever call it the ‘trust test.’"
"You make it sound like we’re puppets on a string," John said.
"That…and Jack is a master fucking puppeteer," I agreed. "His puppets do usually have a good time, though, so we’ve got that going for us."
"So is there more about the "trust test" that YOU think - not what Jack thinks, but you think - I ought to know?" John asked.
"There is. The first thing is that we, of course, reciprocated. So I know what it feels like to be behind both the knob…"
[For the first time I felt a real pang of guilt for having pushed my knob so thoroughly into Andrew’s hole just a couple of hours earlier. But I wasn’t going to tell John about that, not then or ever.]
"… and the hole. I told you last night that I wanted to suggest a couple of changes to Jack’s ‘trust test,’" I took a deep breath and continued, "and the first one is this: Tomorrow night I’d like it to be reciprocal—"
"Joe—" John started to object (I assumed).
"John, please just hear me out. I’m not asking to top you - we’ve talked about that and I’m content with our roles. Seriously. In fact, I want to show you that I wouldn’t fuck you in the ass even if you begged me…" We both laughed. "I wouldn’t, but I know you won’t beg me to fuck you. My guess is your reaction to having having a small piece of me in your ass would be about the same as Jack’s was…pleasant enough, but not what moved his needle.
"My experience is limited," I continued, "but I don’t think the guy on the receiving end begs for it - ‘beg’ is pretty strong…let’s say ‘asks his partner to come all the way in’ - anyway I doubt that happens unless the guy with the head of a cock parked in his hole has ‘the soul of a bottom.’ And I know you don’t."
“‘The soul of a bottom’…Jack used that phrase yesterday to describe you…More ‘twinspeak?’” John asked.
'Nah…just a phrase he knew I'd recognize…and, at least in the context of what we're discussing, it's a recognizable phrase that happens to be 100% accurate. Jack was just reminding me how I had reacted to having his knob in my hole …not that I could forget that.”
John laughed and said, “You’re saying that when you and Jack played the trust game - with you in the bottom role - you…um…asked your partner to come all the way in?”
Breaking in the roommate.
Anonymous said: Do you know what verbose means
Yes. It means that writing takes a fuckload of time, and good editing, even longer. Just as an example, if my own tumblr posts put food on the table, I would spend more time editing than writing. But they don’t, so they get a quick proofread, if that.
So, applied to your situation, “verbose” means stop fucking reading it if you don’t like it.
Now, if you’d like to discuss any issues you have with MY writing, stop hiding behind your anonymity, and we can talk.
Do you know what “rude” means?
18A: I AM JOE’S DICK…ON TRUTH SERUM
Me: improv op exceds all expctns, improv’d my cock str8 up th mark’s ass in libry bthrm…literally
Me: no hotter 4 me ever
Jack: ur abt to hurt my feelings
Me: ben awhile since u offerd anything to compare
Jack: WTF…ur serious? u fucked that dude…in libry??
Jack: that duz sound like clever plan for avoidng expulsn on morals chrg
have u lost ur fucking mind?
Me: I didn’t plan to fuck him, just happened…
Jack: most gr8 fucks aren’t plan’d joe they just happen…’s why I think all ur BS abt whn/how u finaly roll ovr 4 tex is bad for u & him
Me: fuck, sorry I gotta go john’s home
Jack: what ur BF jealous, cant chat w/ ur on bro 4 a min?
Me: not about fucking the libry help, ive got enuf to expln as it is
“‘Truth Serum’ is twinspeak for some, uh, ‘sick fucking mojo’ Jack and I had, have - it definitely still works. But Truth Serum’s not just twinspeak for telling the truth…it’s not ‘at the core’ of my and Jack’s relationship, it is THE core…” I was explaining to John.
I had been sitting naked in a big stuffed armchair, examining my cock and balls for any permanent injury, with my swollen left ankle elevated and wrapped in ice, when John had come in - with my takeout dinner, bless his heart - 20 or so minutes earlier, and I had been talking pretty much nonstop ever since. After fucking the surprisingly hot Andrew in the ass in a library bathroom (almost by accident) and then catching a ride home from him, I had limped inside, stripped off my filthy cum-stained clothes at the washing machine and started a load of laundry. Then I had taken a very long and very soapy shower, gingerly dried off my bruised and sore privates and poured myself a big fucking glass of whiskey. I had settled into the same big cushy chair from which John had so often exposed himself to passers by on the street outside (in the early “straight” days of our living together), to more closely examine my damaged genitalia and have a quick chat with Jack. I knew it was bad form to kiss and tell, but I still had to tell.
The chair’s back was turned to the window now and my splayed junk was facing the door (and John) when John walked in. He looked me up and down, and burst out laughing. “Not exactly what I expected to see when I walked in,” he said, “but I like it…except for the leg. What the heck happened to you?”
I told John that I had a lot I needed to tell him, and launched almost immediately into a streamlined recitation of the interesting and unusual events - not quite all of them unfortunate - that had marked my day (and some body parts) in the library: my conversations with Jack, getting caught masturbating in the men’s room, breaking my dick almost in two against the urinal, the near-amputation of my left nut with my zipper, the freshman library assistant’s extortionate threats and his photo of John’s big ejaculating cock in my mouth, my attempt to snatch the kid’s phone that had resulted in a very severe sprain of my left ankle, my brilliant improv operation that had neutralized the threat of my imminent expulsion from the university, how I bent the blackmailer to my will and then, having vanquished my enemy, how I had magnanimously befriended him.
I summarized everything that had happened - everything, that is, except those parts of my conversations with Jack related to my efforts to get my twin to fuck me in the ass as soon as I got home for the holidays and, of course, how I had sealed my new friendship with Andrew with seven inches of rock hard cock straight up his delicious little ass. But everything else I told John - I even told him that after “the kid spilled his guts to me about a hot-as-fuck buttfucking session he had recently had with an upperclassman in a locked staff restroom in the stacks,” I had discreetly explored the possibility of a future three-way with the little sex-crazed demon, who was definitely game. John expressed healthy skepticism over this last item, until I showed him my photo of the kid’s giant cock. “Honestly, I think the kid’s just lonely…anyway, that’s out there if we’re interested when we come back in January…” I trailed off.
I took a deep breath and a long drink. “That was my day…and that’s just the prelude for ‘story time,’ I said. “If you’ll listen to me, I think that before tomorrow night I should tell you the “bigger story” I skipped over last night. You know, about Jack’s two greatest ideas for getting me over my fixation on sucking his cock.”
John was, of course, interested and he encouraged me to tell him as much as I felt like I needed or wanted to tell him. He got a drink for himself and, returning to his chair opposite mine, he stopped and said, “Joe, I think a lot of the time you just don’t give yourself enough credit for who you really are…besides being the most interesting guy I’ve ever known…to walk in tonight and find an absolutely gorgeous guy just sitting there butt naked with a big fat beautiful cock and killer balls…waiting to talk to ME…I’m just blown away by you.”
I loved John for spewing all that BS, though it did embarrass me. “Ha, I may have a fat cock..tonight…but that’s because I broke it today…when the swelling goes down—”
"That’s what I’m talking about, not giving yourself credit. I promise you your dick looks exactly like it did yesterday, last week - fat, beautiful and suckable. Got it?"
I felt like I might have blushed. “Got it…and thank you. So if you’re ready, this is what I’m going to tell you about. To refresh, Jack’s greatest ideas to get me off my brotherly blow job fixation, were, first, that we start fucking each other. That didn’t happen, but…” I looked up and held John’s eyes, “…but Jack and I played ‘knob-in-the-hole,’ the trust test, together, two-way street, when we were 17. The second idea was for him to turn me onto fucking girls, that’s the Lacy story. I did fuck her, with some help from Jack. How that went down is called ‘The Fuck Itself’ in twinspeak, and you’re going to need to pay particular attention to that…it was ‘the perfect setup.’”
‘The Fuck Itself’ - Jack mentioned that yester—” John started to say, “…and ‘the perfect setup…’”
"He did," I said, "and I thought he was just being clever, cute, tweaking me about the Lacy deal, but he mentioned it again today, so I’m thinking it wasn’t just a casual reference. He also mentioned that our apartment out back is ‘the perfect setup,’ which it is. But ‘perfect setup’ is also code for, basically, a major fucking game, or sting, is afoot. Coincidentally, The Fuck Itself, the original one with Lacy, went down in the same ‘perfect setup’ where you’ll be..sleeping…with me. I know this is confusing, but I think I can make it all clear."
As soon as I had said that, another piece of Jack’s puzzle had fallen into place. “Fuck. I just realized that Jack is…probably…serious as he can be about a three-way…didn’t he say ‘the perfect setup’ for ‘illicit romance?’ I should’ve gotten that yesterday…”
"You mean—" John began.
"I’ll explain everything…but I need to do it my way, ok? There’s a priority here. Knob-in-the-hole…you need to hear about that tonight for sure. The Fuck Itself and the rest will keep a few days if I run out of steam.
"But before all of that you need to know about Truth Serum. You’ll see why in a few minutes, " I said, "because nothing better defines my relationship with Jack than Truth Serum… it’s our cornerstone." And that’s what I was talking about when I began my digression about filling John in on the series of mostly unfortunate events that befell me in the library.
“‘Truth Serum,’” I continued, “is one of a pair of what Jack and I call ‘words of power’ - the sickest fucking mojo there is. Let’s say Jack invokes ‘Truth Serum’ on me - like he did today when he asked about my anal virginity - that compels me to answer the question in ‘the truest possible way’ without—”
“‘In the truest possible way?’” John interrupted, “didnt Jack say the same thing to me in his texts?
"He did, " I said, "a couple of times. As you’re beginning to see, that dialogue was full of twinspeak references. They may be clues to what Jack is really up to - advertising his availability for a three-way…maybe…aside from trying to help me get fucked in the ass last night - or they may just be sprinkled in so I’ll THINK he’s up to something else when he’s not. Who knows? It’s all just an elaborate game Jack is playing, but I’m planning on sitting this one out."
If you think I was approaching John with a remarkable degree of candor that evening, you’re right. While I was showering and checking my injured package I had essentially resolved to spill my guts about everything - except for fucking Andrew and about my plans for Jack’s cock before John’s visit. I guess I instinctively knew that, even for me, there were just too many secrets being kept. I needed to clear away some of that underbrush. I was even toying with a (secret) way to make my surrender to Jack’s master gamesmanship irrevocable. I was undecided, just keeping my options open - but if I had been playing Jack’s game, that last library chat with Jack in which he had so aptly paraphrased my hypothetical concerning what a once-fucked ass might feel like as ‘Papa Bear wanting to know if someone had been eating his porridge,’ could’ve served as the foundation for a double game. Not that I was playing anyone.
"So Jack invokes Truth Serum and that compels me to answer the question in ‘the truest possible way’ without any evasion or omission. You can only invoke it with respect to ‘essential’ things, but the one invoking it is the sole judge of what is ‘essential’ to him. And - oh yeah, this is kind of big - the one invoking Truth Serum had damn well better be prepared to deal with the answer he gets. There’s no recrimination for an answer compelled by Truth Serum. You ask it, the truth is spoken, that’s the end of it…that doesn’t mean ‘no consequences,’ by the way. You can’t un-hear something that hurts, and you can’t help how you feel about having heard it…but no recriminations."
"What happens if you say Truth Serum and Jack lies, or vice versa?"
I laughed softly, “That can’t happen,” I said.
"No, just suppose—" John said.
"I can’t say it any more clearly than that, John - it cannot happen, does not happen, has never happened, will never happen." I tried again to explain, "Look, I said this was some sick fucking mojo. It’s our core, John, and it’s inviolable."
"You make it sound like magic or something," John observed.
"Oh, no,’ I said, ‘I didn’t mean to equate Truth Serum with magic. Truth Serum is much stronger than magic."
"Thought experiment, OK?" John asked. "Think of the one thing about yourself, something you’ve done maybe, that would be the very last thing you would want Jack to know about you - don’t tell me what it is - you got something in mind?"
I laughed ruefully, “That’s a no-brainer. To Jack, this would be the absolute worst thing I could have ever done. And it kills me that I did it.”
"Oh, wait," John asked, "was this about a…an ‘essential’ thing?"
"That’s not my call, Jack would say that it is, so it is. But I’d have to agree with him. This would be most essential to Jack. The fact that I knew that BEFORE I did what I did, and did it anyway, well, that’s what makes it so bad."
"Alright, so you’re about to get busted by Jack. He calls ‘Truth Serum’ in a way that means you’re supposed to tell him this terrible secret. Do you really tell him??"
"John, don’t you see, I am compelled. I don’t HAVE a choice to lie or not. Of course I tell him…in the truest possible way."
"So you disclose to him the last thing in the world you would ever want him to know…how can you do that? I mean, don’t tell me what this thing is…but can I ask how that happens… how would you begin?"
"Sure," I said, "but there’s no formula or anything, it just depends on the question. I just have to say it in the truest possible way. In this case, the thing itself, while embarrassing, is not nearly as bad as what it would represent to Jack. If I’d done the same thing but with a different person, let’s say, and I got caught doing it, I’d be embarrassed but that’s probably about it. But it wasn’t someone else, it was Jack. And I knew it was an ‘essential’ thing. I’ve thought about this every single day since I did what I did, so it’s easy, not easy to say, but easy for me to know the truest possible way to say it. I’ve been practicing, I guess."
John asked, “Joe, maybe you shouldn’t tell me any more, not even the first few words. I mean, you don’t have…you are not compelled - and I’m not sure it’s my place to know…”
I slowly shook my head back and forth. “This much at least is your place to know, because I think hearing this will give you a sense of the power - and maybe the danger of - Truth Serum. To be clear, the consequences of me disclosing this ‘thing’ to Jack would be…awful…for both of us. On the brighter side, we’ve both come to understand the dangerous side of Truth Serum, so we don’t toss that shit around casually [[except for the last couple of days when we’d both handled it with all the care one would give a beanbag ]].
"Even so, let’s say Jack has compelled me to answer, and I would. I’d begin by saying, ‘Jack, I have violated your sacred trust in the worst possible way…’" A few tears were rolling down my cheeks.
"Oh, Joe…I’m so sorry…I wouldn’t have…taken you there if I’d had any idea…that was stu—"
"John, I’m fine..really," and I laughed when a fat tear plopped down onto my fat cock, "that’s exactly where I was going when I started talking about Truth Serum. And the reason it’s important for you to understand this sick fucking mojo - more twinspeak, by the way - is that for the rest of what I’m going to tell you, and while you’re visiting next week, you have Truth Serum with me. Just in case you have any doubts about what’s what, you can compel me to answer any question you have in the truest possible way. It’s the best way I can think of to keep you…perfectly safe."
"Joe, that really doesn’t make any sense..you’re voluntarily telling me things that are significant to you - I’m not about to try to compel—
"Compel, not try to compel…Maybe not, but we’ll have to see how far this game of Jack’s goes. Look, that was way too melodramatic…whatever Jack has on his mind, it IS only a game, mostly a mental exercise. Even with Truth Serum I’d tell you he would never hurt me..or you, because of me."
[[That was the first rule of any ‘perfect setup’ and, as you’ll see, Jack followed that rule - I don’t want you to start thinking that anything diabolical was going to happen, because it didn’t. It proved to be a clever, even a devious game, but not a hurtful one. And Jack had spelled it all out in his texts to John and me. His only mistake, if he had made one, was in thinking I’d figure out what part I did sooner than actually happened]].
"So now there are a couple of things you need to hear…" I began.
Roommates hard as Chinese arithmetic.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1690.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1689.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1688.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1687.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1686.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1685.
Hard as Chinese arithmetic/1684.