SEX HEAD

Tim Miller

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Tim does a crazy shirt-and-clothespin dance while the tape plays and he strips naked.)

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh.

(Tim pins clothespins all over his body. Especially strong ones on his nipples and balls. Tape fades as he begins to speak full sentences.)

Oh that feels nice. His kisses so sweet.

Those kisses so wet. Well, they’re not really that wet, not in the big scheme of wetness. I just met him. I pull that READ MY LIPS shirt over my head. Do I know where his mouth has been? Well, does he know where my mouth has been? I can’t be bothered worrying about saliva anyhow. I can’t live in a world where we can’t kiss. Does he feel me hold back? No, I think it’s okay. He knows I’m a little nervous, I think.

Hey, now he’s sucking my dick! Ooh, that’s nice. He can do that thing way at the back of his throat that always makes me gag when I try it. Wait, if he’s sucking my dick, does that mean I have to suck his? Do Unto Others as They Would Do Unto You! No, I’m an adult. I took that workshop about boundary drawing. I can say yes and no in my life. Well, maybe I’ll just lick his balls for a while. That would be a friendly gesture. Well, maybe up the shaft for a bit. It couldn’t hurt to just lap across the head of his dick once or twice. Maybe wrap my lips around it for a plunge up and down. Not for too long though, I don’t want to have an anxiety attack tomorrow.

Gotta stay safe! Gotta stay safe!

Oooh, like in a bad Las Vegas magic act, his asshole suddenly appears at the end of my finger. The skin feels so nice, the hair there so soft.

Where’s the condom? Where’s the lube?

Well, one thing’s for sure, if we’re gonna fuck, I’m gonna be the one that fucks him. I’m negative so I’m gonna be total insta-top right? I’ll just feel more comfortable then. If I let him fuck me I might have to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and find the condom full of his cum and take it into the bathroom and fill it with water just to make sure that it didn’t have a leak. I’d rather fuck him anyway. I’ve really gotten more into my top energy lately. It’s really who I am, my deepest self, right? Ya know, now that I’m in my late thirties it’s where I feel my sex pull goes most naturally. Looking at all those spread assholes in the beaver shots in Freshman has helped too. Yeah, all I want to do is fuck that butt! But what if I start seeing this guy regular and sometimes it’s been a long day and I’m tired and I just don’t have the yang savings account to smack that butt and lift those legs and huff and puff and blow my load up his pussy-boy man-cunt hot hole of my desire? What will I do then? Be in the moment.

One finger. Two finger. Three finger. Four. (It’s like a song on “Barney.”) This is the way we open the door. Wait, since I’m pretty mostly probably sure that I’m still negative, maybe I can fuck him without a rubber just for a while. Wow, that’d feel nice. I would feel so bad, so naughty. I should be punished. I’m such a bad boy.

Gotta stay safe! Gotta stay safe!

But what about that big Wuthering Heights mansion inside me that wants to put my cum in my lovers’ mouths and assholes? I want to get my boyfriend Alistair pregnant. Make a baby that will lead us queer people to freedom. I can’t believe I thought that. What about that part of me that wants to eat up that cum and stuff it up my butt?

Tim! You just met this guy, put on a condom and shut up!

My cock is slipping into his asshole. That feels so nice. Hey, my brain is quieting down! I’m actually in the experience of fucking another man! I’m starting to feel pretty good about myself. I think I’m a pretty great guy. I’m proud of myself finding this sex with another man. I know if my Mom were here, she would be proud of me too.

My Mom appears inside of my head with gobs of leftover Tuna Helper dripping through her fingers. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, you dirty faggot son o’ mine that will never give me grandchildren?”

Oh god, I’m losing my hard-on! Quick, think of smooth-skinned eighteen-year-old boys in wet underwear splashing in the fountains of Trafalgar Square in London.

Ashamed, Mom? No, not for this. I’m ashamed it’s so hard for me to cry. I’m ashamed I shouted at that checkout person at SavOn’s when I bought all these clothespins! I’m ashamed I sometimes torture the men I love. But I’m not ashamed that I like assfucking. Mom, I’m pretty busy so would you please get out of my head?

We turn the fuck upside down. I see his chest and body, his face telling me that he likes being here. His dick is getting really big and red. Every second, it looks more like Bill Clinton’s face when he’s jogging. Does he want me to cum in him, inside the condom? I’m getting close. Maybe I should pull out. Should I ask him? I’ll just tell him. Then the ball is in his court. “I’m gonna cum!”

I’m gonna cum with bells and buzzers.

I’m gonna cum with my long curly hair.

I gonna cum with a fresh-baked pie in my hand.

I’m gonna cum with gratitude for your long legs.

I’m gonna cum with desire for the future.

I’m gonna cum with the memory of us in Fourth Grade.

I’m gonna cum with my eyes open.

I’m gonna cum with love for our bodies.

I’m gonna cum with my fear of death.

I’m gonna cum and I’m not gonna go a minute later.

I’m gonna cum…

I’m gonna cum…

I’m gonna cum…

I’m gonna cum…

I’m gonna cum…

I’m gonna cum…