The Lies We Tell

These things have a way of creeping up on you. The slow lingering doubt, swirling slowly around my gnawed fingertips cast aspersions around the room. I had had my fair share of crestfallen faces staring up from between my legs, but this one was uglier than the one before. The one from last night. He was better. This one made me want to give it all up and become a priest. There's a noble profession.

I drifted off into my thoughts as his lips slowly closed and I felt the damp exhilaration once again, in my head. My eyes, misty and unfocused moved around the room and came to rest on the window, there the rain had been pounding away for hours now, and the drops of water formed their groups and made and severed alliances. One droplet looked set apart from the rest; alone amongst the throng. I recognised its pain, there pinned against the window, all alone and no one listening. Strapped as I was, arms outstretched on the bed, I felt I knew the pain of Christ. The pleasure of my groin, augmented by the unbearable agony in my arms, the smile on my face reached from the very depths of my anus to the tip of my skull, about to cry out. I felt that droplet of water, Christ, and I were the real holy trinity. My cock in the chicken's mouth, Christ forever in his death throes, erect and weeping, and the drops of water dripping from his forehead and mine. It was bliss. Horrible, disgusting bliss.

I came around and came, and he came, and he smiled, and he drank my Dr. Pepper which I had placed on the side for him, and he gargled with it, and he pulled up his trousers and he left, and I shut the door, and I sat in my chair, and I finished the garlic bread which I had been eating when he showed up, and I sank lower into the chair and I crawled into the bathroom and started running a bath.

There I spied the mirror, and I turned it around. I wasn't prepared to see that beard again just yet, that would have to wait.

As I lay on the bathroom floor, gushing water echoing through the air and bouncing back louder still, I stared deep into the ceiling and saw only hatred in the stark white. I turned off the light, and sat in the bath, in the black, listening to the calming water flowing through my head, then over my hands, over my groin and down my legs, pooling around my feet and ankles. Hot life giving liquid. I had given mine up already today, and I surround myself in nature's - because it makes me feel more like a man.