I am, as are millions of other Americans looking forward with great anticipation to the President’s speech tonight. Is this going to be the defining moment? Is it the speech that draws the line in the sand? Is President Obama going to be able to persuade those on the fence? Is he going to finally accept that there is no way that any Republican is going to vote for this or any other legislation he proposes? Is he aware that no Public Option means a bad bill and a total defeat?
I just question if the so-called Blue Dog Republicans are going to find those vestiges of decency and wisdom that is hidden behind in their minds blocked by their allegiance to the insurance and pharma interests. They are after all Democrats, and what that means to me is that at one time or another they had compassion and some degree of intelligence. Would it be too much to ask that only one dissenting Republican will cross over party lines and provide that 60th vote that would have been Senator Kennedy’s?
Will Olimpia Snow cast a vote to legislation that contains a Public Option, no “trigger bullshit” like she has proposed? Then make a declaration that basically says “I am a Republican and my ideology is diametrically opposed to those of the Democrats; however, I was elected by my constituents and I am compelled to vote according to their wishes”
Nah, that is too much to ask, these partisan, shameless politicians are not going to come through, that
would be out of character and would also bring them too
many negative repercussions from their party.
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The Public Health Option - No Compromise: Rachel Maddow weighs in
The "politics of fear" has long been the playbook for the GOP - divide and conquer - fear - vs. reality. If anyone doubts that the Republicans deliberately slowed down the whole process in committees so that the voting would not take place until after the Congressional recess was over, they are living in some other planet. This concerted effort was planned and carried out because they know the types of tactics they would employ: to lie and to confuse an already ticked off American public. It has worked, and I hope the Republicans are happy as they collect their checks from the insurance companies and the pharmaceuticals as they all laugh all the way to the bank at the expense of the American people.
What is truly disappointing is how easy and effective the GOP "politics of no" was - and is. To your credit Rachel you were the only journalist who pointed out that "traditional" media was being led by the nose by the vocal minority at the health care public meetings.
It's high time that the "traditional" media ONLY dealt with facts. With all the gray matter on the web, radio
and TV - this is an opportunity for "traditional media" to actually do what it is charged to do - inform and educate - to present the facts - and allow the user, reader, viewer, listener to draw their own conclusions.
It isn't news simply because a lunatic says it - even a congressman - if it has no context or truth - and let's leave the raving minority to the multitudes of blogs on the web - and Fox Entertainment News. (While watching them closely - like, say tracking hate organizations from the Southern Poverty Law Center.
http://www.splcenter.org/index.jsp
Hello America - the world is watching - and frankly the vocal minority is looking like idiots - and lunatics. This can't be good for our national security. We are fooling ourselves if we think that the insurance companies will lower premiums on their own accord. We are idiots if we pass through some “trigger type of mechanism” that would be so totally useless as the insurance companies would feel more emboldened after the Democratic proposal defeat that they will do just the opposite.
How do we achieve the public option given the fact that we all know the insurance companies will not reform without it and we know the majority of Americans want reform? How do we hold these politicians accountable when they were sent to Congress by the voters to seek change and they have betrayed them by aligning themselves with the insurance interests?
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ONE YEAR ON THE
AIR FOR RACHEL…HAPPY ANNIVERSARY
Is Democracy in peril? Are we seeing the end of the concept as most of us understand it?
I pose to you this question because I cannot help for the life of me understand what is going on with Congress. We see that it is becoming more and more an entity that represents special interests and not the interests of the constituents who elected them.
What I am at a loss in comprehending is why all these Americans who call themselves patriotic don’t get that concept. We see them at town hall meetings and we see them ranting on television how they are “losing their America” and why are we not going back to the principles the Founding Fathers laid out for us in the Constitution.
They seem to think that by flying the American flag in front of their houses, or slapping on some asinine bumper sticker to their cars, wearing a lapel flag and going to town hall meetings to disrupt the attempts of constituents to have some meaningful dialogue with their elected officials is exercising their freedom of free speech and displaying their patriotism for all to see.
What the fuck are they thinking? We have a political party that produced and supported the worst president we have ever had and left this country on the brink of ruin. We saw how they lied and usurped their power, how they trampled on the Constitution; we also saw how they got us into an unnecessary war and lied to us and the world to convince us it was necessary. They produced the biggest economic crisis since the Great Depression. They tortured and maintain that it is something necessary to keep the country safe, something that is so egregious and immoral that totally negates our long held principals.
These Republicans should at the very least keep quiet, not only did they drove this country into a crisis, but now are sabotaging and obstructing any efforts by the Obama administration to get us out of the mess. Yes, it is going to be costly, and yes we will be acquiring a big deficit, but take the blame for it, you mother fuckers, don’t blame Obama for what you created!
Do us all a favor, stop calling yourself patriotic…there is nothing patriotic about destroying the middle class, getting us into a costly and unnecessary war and now blocking a much needed health care reform. It is unpatriotic as well to have a government that is only beneficial to special interests and the super rich.
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My boyfriend is back. Hans in my life again
I came home for the holidays and had heard how this young man named Hank had been caught at the border with drugs and the trial was coming up. I understand they tried him as an adult and really threw the book at him. Not surprising, he was poor and his alcoholic father could not afford a lawyer, and Texas drug laws are the most severe and ridiculous in the country. There are people still incarcerated from the sixties serving a life sentence and all they were caught doing was smoking a joint. Time went on and I graduated from college. I was openly out and living a very active gay life. All my friends were gay; all my activities involved one or other aspect of the gay community. I had a great job and was able to support myself although I knew that some day I would inherit a considerable fortune. I went back home for my uncle Carlo’s funeral, he got killed in an accident in the family farm, it seems a lose belt from the corn mill broke and got free and he was hit across the face and was killed instantly. My grandfather had died a year before and my mother and father were the only ones left to inherit lands on either side of the Rio Grande and I had no idea the extent of the fortune. Carlos was a sweet man and one of my early lovers. What a waste.
After the funeral, I went into town to buy some liquor and cigarettes, yes, I smoked by now, what a horrible habit it is. It happened, as I walked out of the
drugstore that I saw Hans walking on the sidewalk downtown Eagle Pass. I recognized him from half a block away. I waited leaning against the car, lit a cigarette and he saw me. As he got closer his smile widened showing the gap between his front teeth. He was more mature, even manlier than and twice as big as I remember. I will tell you why later.
“Richie, my boy, how are you little buddy? I was hoping I would run into you some day” I said: “Hans, is it really you? Wow, you have changed a lot, but you look even better! You are even taller! What? Seven feet? I said, let’s catch up, are you up for a drink? He nodded in approval, nah, I am 6’7”. Now, remember, Hans was not the talkative type. From my home visits, I knew of a bar in Eagle Pass that was not homophobic and on the weekends had the reputation of catering only to fags. I suggested we go there; Hans did not seem to mind. We got in the car, drove the few blocks and parked in front. They had just opened and there were only a couple of the regulars, two at the bar getting plastered before going home to their fat ugly wives and two others playing pool in the adjoining room. Hans and I sat at a booth in the cavernous and dark place. Then Hans told me the whole story.
To begin with, his mother had not left his father because of drugs, although she was a user, but because he kicked her out when he found her in bed with the Mexican handyman of the apartment house they lived in. His father turned to alcohol and lost his job, two older brothers left home and joined the service, Hans was left to actually take care of his dad, he cooked, cleaned house and even did odd jobs to make extra money. This was about the time he ran into me when those boys raped me. Hans then told me his dad had died while he was in prison. I did not quite understand whether it was Hans or his dad who was in prison, so I asked. Hans said: “yes I was busted for trying to smuggle drugs into the country” No big deal, I just got out a few months ago and the trailer is gone, so is my dad and I don’t even have a place to stay. That is when I remember how sweet and kind he had been. Without giving it second thoughts I told him to come back with me to Houston, he could stay for as long as he wanted, no strings attached, but I thought he would have a better chance at getting work in a bigger city, not suckie Eagle Pass. Again, he just nodded, so I was thrilled to have company on my way back and someone to talk to during the long drive home to Houston.
Hans did not have many material possessions, but what little he had he kept in a suitcase in a locker at the bus station. He said he would shower at the Y and had been eating out of a soup kitchen a local church had for the homeless. That was the first time I had actually met or talked to anyone homeless. We picked up his bag and he stayed in the car while I said my goodbyes to my folks. They asked me who that was; I said it was an old friend who was going to help with the driving.
The hot south Texas sun was now setting but it was still hot so I asked Hans if he would mind if I put the top down. “No, I like that”, so I did, and Hans also took off his shirt. What I saw was incredible. I remember Hans being hot, but now he was totally ripped. I said: “you have been working out some?” “Yeah, that is one of the only things you can do in the big house” That explains it, I thought. He had grown taller as well, I figured he was easily 6’7” and was close to 300 lbs., all solid muscle. But the sight of him was so tempting, he now had a lot more tats, some were veritable works of art, others homemade sloppy attempts at tattoos. He said that he got most of them from a guy he had been involved with and owned a tattoo studio, in between his two prison stints. There were tattoos every- where, many, covering his forearms and biceps all the way up his shoulders and some about the neck, his back had a stylized eagle, he said it was to remind him of Eagle Pass. For the life of me I can not think why anyone would even want to remember they come from Eagle Pass, as a matter of fact, if they ever give Texas an enema, Eagle Pass is where they are going to insert the enema hose.
Tats are sexy, excessive tattoos I am not so sure, but on Hans it was a total turn on. He was the bad boy, the misfit, the delinquent, the forbidden fruit. But to me, Hans was the sweet, gentle protector and the owner of the biggest cock I had seen in my life. We stopped at a truck stop to grab some food, he put on his shirt and I put the top back up to lock the car. I knew he had no money so I paid for the meal, he was thankful and polite and I knew he appreciated it.
You can imagine how the rest of the evening went; Hans would hold my hand and would sweetly smile
displaying the familiar gap between the teeth. It was well into the night when we stopped at a rest stop to piss and for me to light up a cigarette. When Hans was with me I had no desire to smoke. But now he was passed out on the passenger seat that was reclined all the way in an almost horizontal position. I sat on a bench and tried to figure it all out. Was I making the right move? Did I want Hans into my life? What kind of future was there with this unsophisticated, uneducated brute? Nah, it does not matter, he is so gorgeous and so butch, and I think I want him for a husband, even if he doesn’t work or never gets to be “somebody”. After a couple of hours, he offered to drive, he was fresh from his nap and I was tired from driving. He told me he did not have a driver’s license yet but we could wing it. I rode beside him and fatigue overtook my alertness and fell into the most restful sleep I have yet to match. Hans touched me gently to awaken me and said we were getting close to Houston, and he needed to be told what interchange we should take. I told him to keep on going and follow the sign to Galveston on I45, we had to get off at Bayou Vista, it is the last town before you get to Galveston, and I would then tell him the rest. We arrived at my house, which was in the middle of nowhere really, and my backyard faced a bayou so I had plenty of waterfront where there were ducks and egrets and a lot of wild life. On the other side there was nothing but bushes and trees so my place was secluded on a sort of bend of the water more like a nature preserve. I had purchased the acreage with some of the money my grandfather left me and I followed his advice to invest it in real estate since land was the only thing that was in limited supply. I was still paying for the land. I had found an old 1850’s farmhouse and I actually had it moved about 10 miles to my property. After extensive renovations and some small additions, like a back porch and a utility room, as well as a bay window in the living-dining area, the old farmhouse had a second life and I had turned it into a showplace. We pulled up the gravel driveway and Hans was impressed. I could tell he looked at everything like a child in a toy store. The cottage was small but had a lot of curb appeal and the landscaping was outstanding in my opinion, all the fruits of my labor. Once inside in the foyer, Hans embraced me and kissed me passionately, catching me by surprise. He then went into the big room and he was in awe. I had a friend named Benjamin decorate it for me and I had gone home the year before and brought back in a large rented truck a shit load of all kinds of antiques and fine stuff that had been in the family for generations. I am sure a lot of what I brought back was worth a fortune if one is to buy it piecemeal at antique stores. But all was done in very good taste and nothing was over the top or indicated any kind of pretentious attempt at displaying wealth although it looked rich. I told him to make himself at home, I would fix us coffee and something to eat and then I would drive over to my friend to pick up the dog which was there for my friend to take care of while I had gone to the funeral. Hans offered to go with me, so I did not mind, in fact, I wanted Benjie to meet Hans. I showed Hans to the guest room and I could see the disappointment in his face. He looked at me and said: “you mean you are not going to let me sleep with you?” What was I to say? I told him that I had a sleep disorder and that I also thought that if he had a separate bedroom he would not feel pressured into an unwanted relationship. He said: “Nah, fuck that crap, I always do what I want, and I know I want you”. I held my breath and told him, we would play it by ear. We ate breakfast and went to fetch Queenie. As we drove up to my friend’s house, Hans said: “Wow, this guy must be loaded” I told him that yes, he was well off, but that he was a decorator and actually the house had belonged to his now dead lover. No more explanations, as Benjie walked out having been warned by Queenie’s barking, I thought Benjie was going to shit in his pants when he saw Hans. “My, oh my, and who might this handsome and virile young man be? Asked Benjie. “Benjie, meet Hans, Hans this is Benjie” “Hans is an old boyfriend from my hometown who is going to be staying with me for a while, but keep your paws to yourself, bitch, this one is off limits to nelly queens particularly more so to you” Benjie said: “Piss on you Mary,thought good friends shared good things” Not this one, I said, Hans is off limits. Queenie actually went to Hans first and licked his face like she had known him all her life, you talk about acceptance, this dog was readily taking him in even before I had made up my mind to take him as a husband. Benjie invited us in, so we went and Hans was looking around like a kid in a candy store. If my small house was decorated well and had valuable antiques, Benjie’s house was sumptuous, imposing, finely appointed 
with the finest marbles and expensive curtains and furniture, it all fit together and was color coordinated. There were multiple French doors that led to a conservatory. Hans had never heard the term before so he was doubly fascinated, and beyond that there was an Olympic size swimming pool with a pool house and cabana on the other side. There was also a small guest cottage almost the size of mine and I knew it was where the Mexican gardener and part-time stud to Benjie stayed. Hans said: “Gee, what a beautiful place you have here” Benjie thanked him but assured him that it was empty, and that it was lonely after his lover passing.
Hans said he was sorry, that soon he will find someone nice. Benjie just shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate indifference to that suggestion.
We returned to my house and told Hans that I had to buy groceries because there was nothing in the house I could cook since I had gone for a few days I did not want to leave anything spoiling in the fridge. I asked him what he wanted me to cook and he said that why didn’t I let him cook for me. We went to the store and he filled the cart with stuff, some of which I would never buy since I would have no idea how to cook it or what it was used for. He then told me he had been cooking at the prison and that his rehabilitation training was focused towards food preparation. Great, I thought, someone who actually knows how to cook living with me.
He fixed dinner and it was divine, this guy knew what he was doing. I stepped out into the back porch to smoke and he followed, standing there behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders and eventually running his hands under my shirt. I knew he meant business. The thought of having sex with him again excited me to no end, but it also terrified me. What if he wanted to fuck me? Could I actually take his cock up my ass? I had never even tried a dildo bigger than 8”. One thing led to another and I was once more in the arms of Hans. He smiled and there was the famous gap between the teeth, and I melted, literally my legs felt they could not hold my body, they were like Jello. And, one added reaction: my rod had stood in attention upon his embrace and I was stimulated by his musky, masculine smell. I knew I was toast…finished; I would fall in love with this bastard easier than you could drink lemonade.
The night brought Hans into my bedroom and into my bed. He shed his clothes slowly and in a very sexy fashion, not as a stripper would but did it in a manly, deliberate manner, revealing each part of his body in the order of importance, first his shirt and the pecs and a torso to die for, then the pants and the strong legs, his thighs were even thicker than my waist and with traditional Fiji style tats then it was finally his undies. It was as I remembered, but now it looked even bigger. His cock was a national monument and a lethal weapon all at once.
THE BIG FUCK. Hans did speak at this time. He told me that he had been incarcerated almost the whole period of time since we had last seen each other. He said he first served a 6 year term followed by another 4 years that he got in addition for insubordination and for almost killing another inmate. He said the prison authorities did not understand that he was not about to be someone’s sex slave and his refusal to give into another prison boss, who headed an internal gang caused a fight between himself and a couple of others and it grew into a prison uprising. He said he didn’t want to get into details since it made him sad and angry at the same time. He actually had caused the riot as there were two opposing factions of queens fighting over him. He said that while in prison, he had many “boyfriends” and there was not one who could take his cock up the ass, except one: this middle age black queen the rest of the inmates also used as a fuck-bag. There was also this guard who managed to get him out into some kind of private area to blow him. But Hans confessed that he had not been able to find true love nor had he ever felt sexually satisfied except that one time in the woods when we had our encounter.
Hans then said to me that if I didn’t want to or if I was not able to take him that he understood and that it was not a matter of life or death at this point since he had resigned himself to live with his curse. Imagine that, thinking a schlong like that was a curse! I felt sorry for Hans. It was right then and there that I decided I would actually welcome Han’s cock into my boy-pussy, and if it hurt, so much the better, but I realized that I had fallen head over heels for the guy. Hans then did not say anything else, just started to sweetly cuddle and hold me, he kissed my neck, my face and my chest, resting his head on it as if to prolong the inevitable. I think he was just as scared as I was for what was about to come.
Hans then went down on me, expertly and making me shiver with pleasure, he traveled under my dick and worked my testicles. It was then he started on a journey led by his tongue and down my crack until he reached its destination: my ass hole-boy-pussy. If getting sucked by Hans felt good, his expert tongue, darting in and out of my bum felt 100 times better. I had heard of this: there were people who actually had orgasms while getting rimmed. As Hans worked his magic with his tongue, darting in and out of my bum, it started to build up into frenzy and I had a series of contractions and spontaneous spasms within the walls of my crack. I was not cumming in the front, but producing a lot of pre-cum nectar. Hans would periodically lick it with the tip of his tongue bending my dick to get to it from behind. Yes, I had actually experienced an ass orgasm. I know I wanted him inside of me now, without reservations and the fear had gone away. It was then that I positioned myself on top of him squatting and guided this monster right to the entrance of my anus. I did have a chance to put some lube but I knew that it was not necessary, I was primed, ready and wet, and my asshole was juicy and relaxed, ready to admit his manhood. Slowly, I sat and laboriously introduced the head which stretched my hole to the limit. Yes, it hurt but I was going to let Hans fuck me and the thought encouraged me to sit on it and let it travel farther into me. Now, mind you, just having half of Hans’s tool inside me was the equivalent of having anyone else’s full erection from the tip to the pubic area. With my hand I tried to guess how much more of this schlong was left outside of my hole and it was at least 7 or 8 more inches. As luck would have it, in the process of repositioning myself, I lost my footing while squatting and lost my balance. I fell on his pecker until it rammed all the way inside me. I let out screams: “Ay, ay, ay, papi, ay, que verga! I actually saw stars, felt dizzy and knew that he was inside of me, all glorious 14” of manhood, the phallic monument to delight the most demanding of all size queens in gay land. Just one problem: I was not a size queen. I just wanted his love and was willing to do anything to get it.
Hans was not long in reaching an orgasm. It was fortuitous for me that he was not into ramming it all the way in and out but he liked for the head to rub against my ass opening while making a small and fast backward and forward motion. I looked in the mirror across the room and Hans did not move any other muscle in his body, it was just his hips working it, with a very sexy pace and undulating movement. Hans built up to frenzy and then deposited his seed inside me, it was not warm but downright hot, I could feel his jizz fill my hole as he spurted load after load of months of stored up liquid love.
Hans fell backwards totally spent. I just laid there and placed my head on his beautiful chest panting and crying. I had ejaculated as well while he was fucking me and I did not even touch my pecker. I could feel my ass on fire. After a while, I felt like getting up and going to the john. Yes, I bled, and a long gelatinous mix of ass secretions mixed with his cum came out. Some of it was left on the toilet tissue when I wiped. Hans loudly asked from the bedroom: “Are you ok babe?” Yeah, it is ok stud.
I went back to bed and Hans wrapped his arms around me making me remember the first time he did that in the woods after the gang bang his little friends had done on me. I realized that I was going to make Hans my lover, my husband, my partner. Hans was my stud horse and when a fag like me has been fucked right, there is no turning back; you get total dedication and unconditional love in return.
In the morning, I woke up and Hans was not in the bed at my side. It must have been 6:30 but I questioned if it all had been a dream, then I got on my feet to piss and I had to walk funny, I sat on the toilet and went, some blood came out as it did for the next couple of days. I was curious why Hans had risen so early, I went to the kitchen and saw the coffee perking, looked outside and there he was, sitting on a plastic milk carton with a fishing rod trying to catch something in the bayou. Queenie was there alert and guarding him. I walked over and bent to give him a kiss. Hans puckered and said: “morning little buddy, are you hungry? I hope so, because we have a shitload of catfish to fry.”
That afternoon was idyllic, warm and just the two of us alone. Tomorrow I told him we had to go to the mall in Friendswood, a town near the Johnson Space Center. At Baybrook Mall I wanted to buy him some clothes. I think his wardrobe only consisted of two cowboy shirts, two pairs of jeans and one pair of beat up boots. That would not do, I thought, I want to take this guy everywhere, show him my world, take him to dinner and the theater, introduce him to my friends and to give him a pleasant life for a change. That Saturday I serviced Hans three times. It was a good thing he was uncut and very sensitive, because I could easily get him to cum just sucking his dick head and going up and down with both hands as I had done that first time in the woods.
We carried the catfish and he cleaned them and filet them like a pro. I thought to myself: Now here is an enterprising fellow, He is a gatherer-hunter and a provider as well as a stud. I think this might work out. We headed for the mall after brunch and I bought him a suit, a sports coat, proper shoes, a couple of pairs of dress pants, several shirts and a brand new pair of very expensive ostrich skin cowboy boots at this western store where he went bananas. I let him pick several shirts, a new buckle and belts, even a cowboy hat which he never took off after that.
The evening brought new possibilities for romance when I took him into Houston to a gay restaurant where we could eat by candlelight and hold hands without raising an eyebrow. I swear there wasn’t a queen in the place who did not stare at tall, beautiful blond Hans in his new jeans that accentuated his crotch and bubble butt. I felt like I was on top of the world. While we were dining, a couple of friends entered the restaurant and spotted me. It was Ferguson and his younger lover, his “houseboy”, more like his live in whore, if you ask me. The kid was cute and very young, but Duchess Fergie as we called him would pick up hustlers and would keep them around for a while and rubbed them on our noses as if bragging at his ability to buy these pretty boys. When Fergie saw Hans I thought he would shit a green brick. He insisted in changing tables so we could all sit together and also to pay for the bill, I suppose to impress Hans. Fergie ordered some very expensive wine and told us it was on him. I saw the discomfort in Hans face but could not figure out the reason. We sort of tried to finish dinner quickly and get the hell out of there. In the car Hans told me why he was not too happy with Fergie. Fergie had taken off his shoe and kept trying to play footsies with him. Hans said he even ran his foot all the way to his crotch and that Fergie was no friend of mine.
We got home and over an after-dinner cordial sitting in the back porch Hans confessed that he thought he was falling in love with me. It was music to my ears. How I wanted for him to be my husband. How much I wanted to have a relationship with someone who would actually love me back. I told him I was very fond of him as well and that I had always dreamed of being with him again since that day in the bushes.
Sunday morning I woke up and looked in my bed and Hans was not there again. It turns out the guy is an early riser and I found him in the back reading the paper. He was actually going over the want ads looking for a job. I walked in and he flashed the smile with the gap in the front and I melted. Good morning, did you sleep well? “Not really little buddy, actually I was not very happy with what happened last night and it took me a while to fall sleep, then I woke up and started to think that I need to get a job. Lookie here, there is almost a full page of want ads for restaurants in the Chronicle, I can apply to some of these, I am after all a good cook.” I told him not to worry and not to rush and take the first thing that came along; he was more than welcome here and there was no pressure.
Hans then asked me if I would be able to take him to the drivers license place the next morning and I agreed even though I had several deadlines and some work accumulated from having gone away for a couple of days to the funeral.
Queenie became Hans’s companion, the bitch took to him and almost ignored me, and she did not leave his side and recognized him as the alpha male. I had been deposed. Monday morning Hans rose early, shaved and got all spiffed up ready to get his driver’s license. He asked me if he could then drop me back and if he could borrow the car to go to a couple of places to apply for work. This guy worked fast. He had us at the driver’s license place before it opened, we were out of there in less than an hour and the queen that administered the driver’s test took a good look at him and passed him without making Hans jump through hoops. Hans dropped me off and he returned around 6 pm with a smile on his face. He said he got a job at a steakhouse nearby as a cook or assistant chef. He would start work on Wednesday.
Hans started to work but I had to loan him my car and that put me in an awkward position. There were times I needed to leave the house or run to the store or do work related errands and could not. I then took the decision to buy him a car. That Sunday we went car shopping. Hans wanted a pick up truck. Why am I not surprised?
We saw several and he finally picked a yellow one. He said, “Babe I will pay you off and the clothes you bought me too; don’t think I am into you for a free ride” I actually believed him. Life was good. It took me a couple of weeks to recuperate from the major fuck Hans gave me and I was ready for more. Hans fucked me again, this time it was not as difficult as the first time. Yes, I bled some afterwards but I was able to take his gigantic rod into my ass and even enjoyed it. After all, aren’t there fags that get fist-fucked? I know that Benjie for example, is a size queen. He showed me one of his dildoes and it was for sure as big as Hans’ dick.
Hans was doing well at work and usually got home around 11 pm. and weekends well after midnight. He would bring home food and we would eat breakfast and lunch together. Sexual activities started to diminish as he worked and did not wake me when he got home. We had reached a point where we would have sex in the mornings a couple of times a week, and he would actually fuck me every other week, as it took that long for me to recuperate. This was what they call the lover’s plateau. But there were some things that started to bug me. I noticed there were some things missing. I had this ring in a drawer that disappeared when I went looking for it. Hans was not paying off the truck as he had promised, not that I really expected it, but I thought an effort would have gone a long way. A few months passed and Hans was made head chef. His hours at work were extended and we sort of started to drift away. Now Hans arrived at 2 or 3 in the morning. It was peculiar to me since the place closed at midnight. This went on for a while and I was much too involved in my work to dwell over the changes. But one night Hans did not come back home. He got back and it was midmorning. I was worried and at the same time annoyed. I told him he could have called to let me know, I was furious with him. That was our first real fight. Hans was not able to offer me a reasonable explanation.
The following week, something similar happened, only this was during the day. I got into my car and drove past Benjie’s house and there was Hans’ truck in the driveway. I parked across the way and waited in the car. Benjie’s driveway was long, maybe half a block, but from where I was parked I could clearly see the front door. It started to get dark but the lights in front of his house went on automatically and a little while later they both emerged, Benjie wrapping his arms around Hans’ neck and giving him a long, passionate kiss. The feeling of anger and foreboding overcame me. I was pissed at Benjie but even more so, I was pissed at Hans. He drove past me and did not see me. I waited a few minutes and got home. Hans was sitting in the back porch, Queenie by his feet and he was staring into space. I walked in, sat down, lit a cigarette and did not say a word. He made a piss poor attempt to smile but it did not work. He sensed I knew something. He asked me: “Did you miss me?” I said, no, I know you were very well taken care of by Benjie.” Hans blushed, he realized I knew. He had been busted big time! I told him, “listen this is not going to work out” I think you should start packing and finding you a place for yourself” Hans tried to justify his behavior, he said, that it was not that he did not love me, but that Benjie let him fuck him every day two or three times a day and our sex lives were lacking.
So that was the end of my relationship with Hans. Oh, he did not last long with Benjie either. Benjie was a sexual butterfly and soon tired of him and found himself another hustler sending Hans packing. Queenie, my dog for ten years died a couple of weeks after Hans’s departure. He was a male but I named him Queenie because I swore he was gay, he was old, true, but I did not love her anymore since she was not faithful like a dog is supposed to be. I fed her, let her out to do her business, but never petted her again and she waited by the door expecting Hans to return. Something inside of me had died as well.
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