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Sexual Paradigm, Part 3: Anthology

by Epaphus and Wrestlr

Disclaimer: There's sex, sodomy, and maybe a few other minor perversions
in this. If you don't like that sort of thing, go elsewhere. Everybody in
the story is legal age. Parts of this story may be autobiographical, or it
might be all fiction--who can say?

Copyright - 2000 by Epaphus and Wrestlr. Permission granted to archive
if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is
charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your
site, you can't use this without the express permission of (and payment to)
the authors. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

Comments to and

Sexual Paradigm, Part 3: Anthology

Origins are so difficult to determine. I don't know if the day I met
Dante could be called the beginning. I don't know if the day I first met
Jeff or first saw Jeff or first had sex with Jeff should be where things
started. Maybe it was when I left Dante. Maybe it was when I began to
miss Dante. Maybe it was when I called him to tell him how I felt.

Beginnings are so hard to define. Maybe it begins with this moment,
with these words. This moment has cohesion. This moment can be defined.
This moment has symbols to keep it in place.

* * *

It started with a phone call. "Hi, Dante. It's Alain."

* * *

When I called you, You said you didn't like My voice, said it Twisted
you inside, Made you remember how I used to call you Every day, leaving
poetry On your machine Because I loved you then- Forever, never leaving
Messages anymore.

* * *

That night, I went to Jeff's. When I walked in, he was on the couch,
stretched out. We watched a movie and didn't talk. Somehow, after that,
discussing our relationship seemed like overkill.

Life with Dante was much more stable. We had so much in common and
spent our days obsessed. I once heard that everyone, straight or gay,
should model their relationships after lesbians. I think Dante and I were
lesbian. We acted like lesbians: so into each other that our bond came
first and the rest of the world was forced to wait. Of course, it wasn't
practical. Of course, it didn't work. I think there was a rule I forgot.
I broke a rule, and nothing has made me happy ever since. There is no
turning back.

Jeff was distant. There was something on his mind he wouldn't say. I
knew what it was. He was a porn star and a prowler of men. He lived
without morality, and I loved him for that. He was free, and by accepting
his freedom I denied our relationship that something special that makes
things last.

* * *

"Do you want to stay over," he asked.

I said, "Yeah, if you want me to?"

He said, "Of course I do, but I'm kinda tired. I was on the set for
nine hours. Is it okay if we just go to bed now?"

"Sure," I said. "If you're tired ... I understand."

* * *

He turned off the light, kissed me, said, "G'night," and rolled onto his
side, his back to me. I pressed my chest against his skin, draped my arm
over his side. Resting in the crevice of his bare ass, my dick started
hardening. His body was tense, unresponsive, but still blatantly aware of
my presence.

I held onto him anyway. I held onto the part of him I didn't want to
let go of. I held onto him because I felt him slipping away, and I wasn't
ready to let that happen yet. I knew I couldn't stop it, but I felt the
instinct to resist.

Jeff rolled over suddenly. It was like an answer to a prayer. He
started kissing me, pressing down against me, his cock growing against my
thigh. "Why won't you let me sleep?" he growled, lips inches from my own.
"Huh, boy? Why won't you let me sleep?" He buried his tongue in my mouth
and quickly pulled away. His breath was hot on my skin. He whispered into
my ear, "Do you need to get fucked?"

"Yes, sir," I whispered back, lips just brushing his shoulder.

* * *

This, our only intimacy On a day we never kiss, Touch, pretend until
now, When you enter me Like a billy club, a broom handle, A Spanish pistol
with a bullet At the end

* * *

He fucked me from behind, and I felt the curve of his cock pulling up on
my asshole like a hook, each time he thrust forward to scratch his crotch
across my ass. The cock was hard and eager, the latex making it a foreign
thing, the smooth phallus of some statue on which I'd been impaled.

My own cock was buried in the sheets, my only important part being the
soft, warm hole wrapped around his flesh.

When he came, he buried himself, the cum filling the empty space inside
the latex, the latex filling an empty space inside me. He lifted me, let
me fist my cock. I knelt on his bed, his finger entering my insides, his
teeth striking nerves along my neck. As his single, strong finger fucked
me in his place, I felt his other knuckles brush against the soles of my
bare feet. It made me think of Dante--the way he would kiss me in places
that weren't exceptional, except that he thought enough to kiss me there.

The finger found my prostate, the cum shot from my cock, and I leaned
back to let the warm fluid pour onto my own heated skin. I cried out and
collapsed, falling against his chest. He kissed my neck. I strained to
let my lips touch his. "Jeff," I breathed, "that was amazing."

"Yeah," he said. "Now let's get to bed."

* * *

I called Dante the next day. "Hi--it's Alain. Can we talk?"

"You know it hurts me to hear your voice."

"O might I kiss those eyes of fire / A million scarce could quench ..."

"You're a fucking sadist."

"I was just kidding."

"Look, what do you want?"

"I miss you."

"Oh, now you miss me! You're such a fucking asshole."

"I know. I want to see you again."

"Not everything in life is about what you want. Other people have needs
too. It isn't just about you!"

"I know."

"Then why are you calling me?"

"I just thought that maybe we could go out sometime. Maybe just meet at
a club or something?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Sometime."

"I really do miss you."

"Whatever. Miss you too, I guess."

* * *

At the El Rey, the men moved like an ocean. From the upper level, I
looked down at the dance floor. Bare skin undulated like water, the
multicolored lights making ripples out of violent arms. I glanced around.
Dante was there in just a pair of jeans and his favorite Airwalks. He was
leaning against the rail and staring up at the three massive crystal
chandeliers floating above the crowd. The light from them was faint, just
enough to give the thousand tears a warm, unobtrusive glow.

I walked toward him, pulling off my own tank. "Hi," I said.

"Hi, Alain," he said, brushing dark bangs from his defensive eyes. I
could see cruel words in there, but he didn't say them, and I was grateful.
Instead, he said, "It's fucking hot up here."

"Yeah, and humid. It's all the sweat."

We looked at each other. He smiled. We smiled. I wanted to kiss him.
I wanted to press myself against his body and kiss him, hold him, kiss him,
drop to my knees, and kiss his crotch. I shifted my weight toward him one
inch, and he looked back to the dance floor.

* * *

There was a time when I could have done whatever I wanted with Dante,
like lead him deep into the center of the club, letting three thousand men wash over us. I could have tasted his mouth, smelled his skin, felt his
dick straining in his jeans, against my thigh, my ass, my groping hand. I
could have taken him home and drained the salty flavors from his cock. I
could have surrendered to the soft warmth of his tongue and the quickening
pulse of orgasm. I could have felt him inside me, thrusting against the
glands that made my sex drive. I could have felt myself deep inside of
him, inside his ass, buried deep enough to make me see the phantom of his
soul inside his eyes.

* * *

I could say I love you, Could say I have to have you Back, that I'd do
Anything, that I was wrong, That I never should have said I didn't need you
when All I need is you and want Is you and could beg for Like a dog and
still never get is you.

* * *

"Hey, Alain!"

Dante and I turned around. Jeff came toward us, in black jeans with his
shirt off, his pecs bouncing as he walked, his short blond hair looking
darker in the club's throbbing light. He stopped in front of us, a little
taller than us, a little more massive.

"Hey, Jeff," I said, completely trapped. I didn't know if I should keep
talking or give him a kiss. I didn't know if I should look innocent or
confused--confused for Dante, innocent for Jeff.

"I think I'm gonna get a drink," I said. "Do you guys want anything?"
Distance was my only option.

"Water," Jeff and Dante said simultaneously.

* * *

Forever passed before the bartender shot a look in my direction. When
she said, "What can I get for you, cutie," she sounded as if she were
taking care of me because I was something special. I ordered three waters
(one for myself as well, because I didn't want to stand out). When I
headed back to my two guys, I saw them leaning on their railing. Their
wide, muscular backs glowed with sweat.

"Here you go."

They were laughing, smiling--at each other. Jeff put something small in
Dante's mouth. Jeff looked at me. "Here--open up."

"What is it?" He held broken pieces of a pill in his offered palm.

"Just take it," said Dante, and I did.

"But what is it?" I asked after washing the jagged pieces down.

"Cyanide," Dante said, and laughed. My expression stayed blank. "Don't
be stupid--you know what it is."

* * *

Jeff and Dante were getting along. I didn't expect that. I thought
Jeff would be out someplace else. He typically said he had "other plans"
on Saturdays. They were getting along and laughing and talking about where
they both grew up; and as time passed, I started feeling warm inside and
content and somewhat detached in an extremely ethereal way, and Jeff looked
back at me, reaching out to touch my neck, and pulled me to him until his
tongue was pushed inside my mouth. I felt panicked, but I couldn't
react--this was taking place in front of Dante. But then, Dante kissed me
too, and I felt my skin tingle every place he touched, and the sensation
spread out in waves and flowed slowly to my limbs. And then Dante pulled
away, and he kissed Jeff, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. They
kissed, and I watched, completely amazed. They were both so beautiful, and
together they were beautiful, and I couldn't help myself--I wasn't jealous.

* * *

In the cab, heading back to someplace--Dante's place I think--Dante put
his arm around my shoulder and looked into my eyes. "Jeff and I were
talking earlier," he said, "so I was wondering, which do you like better,
novels or anthologies?"

I looked at him, confused. "Anthologies, I guess."


"Because there're more people in them. There're more voices. It's more

"That's kind of simple coming from you."

I laughed with him. "Exposition isn't easy right now, but yeah--I like
anthologies better."

Dante glanced over at Jeff, then kissed me, his lips expressing
something romantic in their soft touch. He smiled. "That's exactly what I
thought you'd say."

* * *

Three from three Thousand, we move like we Are not of This world but
some Other place in which our skin Cannot contain the meaning Of who we
are, the three Of us constructing Energy from flesh with each Connection,
as always me Attaching placement to An unfamiliar life Because you're here.

* * *

Walking back into Dante's place felt strange. But Jeff was there,
kissing me, and Dante was there, in the kitchen, making drinks. When he
came back, he led us to his bedroom and put a porn tape into his VCR. It
was odd, out of place, the images, the latexed dicks piercing clean-shaven

Dante kissed me, and Jeff kissed me, and Jeff opened his fly and told me
to go down on his cock. I did. I lowered myself and took his cock into my
mouth and let him push it down my throat, while Dante filled Jeff's mouth
with a wet tongue that used to be mine alone.

Then Dante joined me--on his knees--and let Jeff's cock push past his
jaw and fill his throat, and I watched and took the cock back and gave it
away. Dante and I licked each side of it and worked together, one of us
licking Jeff's nuts, the other swirling his tongue around the head.

* * *

How should I feel Toward this moment: I would Suffer a world on my back
Just to have your spit Inside my mouth.

* * *

With our clothes removed, we looked tossed about the bed as Dante probed
his tongue inside my ass and Jeff made my dick leak juice within his mouth.

And then it was Jeff sucking Dante's cock, while I kissed Dante and
thought about the past. Soon, Jeff opened up his ass to my tongue and I
tasted him, thinking how beautiful my new lover was and that if what I had
right now was not Love, as least he was a god.

Dante gave me his cock and his ass too. I sucked in his essence, and
someone orgasmed on the tv screen. It distracted me. The actor came a
lot. "Damn!" I said.

"Yeah," Jeff said, "he does that every time."

"You've worked with him?" Dante asked.

"Yeah. He's a nice guy," Jeff said as he stroked his cock casually,
watching his friend spread cum across his chest.

Dante asked, "Does doing it--porn, I mean--make fucking kind of boring?"

Jeff said, "Alain told me that you write. Does that make books or
movies boring?"

"Sometimes. Not always."

"I feel the same way about sex."

Dante laughed. He liked cleverness as much as I did. He moved over to
Jeff and started sucking his cock. I watched, playing with myself. Soon,
we were back into our sexual groove. I was swallowing all of Jeff's cock,
and Dante was shoving a lube-covered finger into my starving ass.

* * *

Eventually, Jeff got Dante down on his stomach, put a condom on, and
pushed his cock into Dante's ass. I got behind Jeff, covered my cock in
protection, and entered his ass. We were fucking each other: Jeff inside
Dante, me inside Jeff. Dante was grunting under Jeff's weight. Jeff was
the biggest and most muscular among us and, in the middle, he set a wild
pace, forcing Dante to take his angry prick and forcing me to keep up as
best I could.

* * *

men in the porn were talking nasty, and we were talking nasty too.
There were a lot of voices. They merged and overlapped as we fucked and
the guys on the screen fucked. It became what porn directors call pure

* * *

Oh Yeah Fuck My Ass Take That Cock Oh My Fuck boy God I Like That Take
That Do You Like That Cock That Cock Up My Ass Sir pig Sir Aw Fuck I Can't
Take Sir It Sir Take That Cock boy Anymore Sir Oh Fuck man You're Fucking
The Shit Out Of Me Fuck Me man Fuck Me Oh You're A Fucking Daddy God Oh
Daddy Smack My You're Gonna Get It boy Ass You're Just My boy Sir hole boy Just My hole Sir Aw Fuck What Are You Yes Sir Fuck You boy Take That Cock
Slut Your hole Sir I'm Just Your Fucking hole
* * *

They talked me into the most degrading things. I straddled Dante's hips
and sat down on his cock, the latex-covered head piercing my ass, sending
me to heaven. I sat down all the way and moved up and down a bit to loosen
up. His cock felt good inside my ass--felt like it belonged there--and the
bottomless look in Dante's dark eyes made his cock seem like an umbilical
cord connecting our souls.

* * *

I normally don't write about souls. They're too ethereal, and what I
was feeling was more concrete.

* * *

Jeff pushed down on my back until my chest rested on Dante's, our
stomachs touching and pulling away with every breath, touching and pulling
away. Dante held me and humped his cock up into me at an angle which
stretched me open. That was when Jeff positioned his cock and slowly
forced it into whatever free space he could find in my ass.

It hurt as he filled me with a second cock. It felt like my ass was
being torn in two, but I endured and held on to Dante, deriving strength
from the calming kisses he placed on my neck. Soon, Jeff had his cock all
the way in, and both cocks were forced into me each time he thrust forward.
I held on to Dante, letting the two cocks take over my ass.

* * *

"Oh, fuck, Alain," Jeff breathed, "you got a hot fucking ass."

Dante grunted, "Fuck his ass, man. I like feeling our cocks rubbing
together inside him. Oh, yeah, take those cocks, boy."

* * *

Encased in your Arms, I can endure For you and let the morphous Walls of
my body give in To you as you Invade me, Reshape me, make me Into the Kubla
Khan of your Libido, my insides Contorting, flexing, Metamorphosing to suit
Your needs, your needs Being the fruit From which I feed.

* * *

Jeff was pounding his cock as best he could into my overcrowded ass, and
Dante was being driven to the edge by the sensation of Jeff rubbing up and
down on his cock.

"Oh, fuck!" Jeff shouted.

"Fuck!" Dante echoed.

It was as if the friction getting them off had nothing to do with me. I
was just the space in which they played. Sliding along each other's
lengths, they both ejaculated thick blasts into their condoms at nearly the
same time.

"Fuck! Fuck!" they yelled in unison, bucking wildly into me, each
working to thrust all the gushing warmth out of his cock. My cock slid
along Dante's abs, and the waves of force caused my dick to explode. Hot
puddles collected between our stomachs and flowed down Dante's chest,
dripped slowly down his sides.

* * *

"That was so fucking hot, Alain," Dante said. "Fuck, I love you."

I didn't know what to say.

* * *

We slept together, tangled, knotted. Through the night, I'd wake up, my
sore ass insisting that I turn on my side or my stomach. I'd try to move.
I'd lose track of which limbs were mine. I couldn't decide which legs or
arms to rearrange to appease my wounds.

* * *

In the morning, I escaped to take a shower. I'd slept as comfortably as
I could, losing myself in the bodies of my lovers. Now was my time to
define myself alone, to separate and rejoin the pieces of my shattered
understanding of myself. I stood under the water, running fingers through
my wet hair, letting the streams pour down the bruised muscles of my back
and the deep canyon of my ass to wash against my irritated hole.

Dante came into the bathroom, stepped into the shower. He put his arms
around me, kissed me, his toes touching my feet, his soft dick pressed
against my nuts. As if he knew what I was doing, he reached around and
stroked the cheeks of my ass, holding the cheeks open a bit to let more
soothing water flow across my hole.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

* * *

I've thought so Many times of calling you To leave some Trinidad Or Dove
on your machine, To leave something I've discovered in a magazine By
accident That says, "I'm sorry, I miss you, I've never Stopped stumbling
across poems For you, for me, for what We had a chance to be."

* * *

"Got kinda out of control, huh?"

"It's okay. I liked it. It just hurts now. That's all."

"Yeah, um--I have to be honest. Just so you know, I set all this up."


"I saw Jeff at the gym yesterday, and we got to talking. I told him to
meet us at the El Rey, and he did."

"Really," I said calmly, too used and worn to get upset. "Why did you
do that?"

"I missed you, but knew I could never measure up. If you can't beat
'em, join 'em, right? Anyway, I'm sorry. I just want you back. I'd share
you with Jeff just to have you back."

I stood there staring at Dante. His vulnerable eyes begged me. This
moment seemed impenetrable, even when our third lover interrupted, shouting
from the hall, "Hey, guys--you want pancakes or waffles for breakfast?"

"Pancakes! Thanks!" I yelled back, and paused. Dante held me, kissed
me, held some abstract part of me in his eyes. They were deep and dark,
his face so boyish and innocent. I couldn't help myself--I tightened my
grip on his body.


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