So it happens that, through a mutual acquaintance, I met a guy I'll call "Yoel", for the sake of protecting his pride and innocence. At first, I deemed him incredibly hot, but nothing more than a blip; a dot on my radar, never to be heard from or seen again. As it happens, I found myself in the wrong; he kept coming around, until a rift came between us.

You see, as someone who lost their mother due to a heart attack quite some time ago, I can not, at all, countenance the thought of someone damning their mother, which is what he did, to my eyes anyway. At that point, context and perspective (two things I pride myself on) flew out the window, not to be heard from or seen again, for quite some time. The walls I had up at one point were then demolished, only to re-appear taller, wider and stronger than ever.

Then he showed up at my birthday party, and things got ugly... quickly. I attempted to distance myself from him as often as I could, but in a crowded bar the size of a walk-in closet, and with people milling about like roaches, I wasn't quite successful at it. So all I could do when I wasn't singing or getting loaded, was shoot him the stink eye and wonder what in the actual HELL I was going to do. When my roommates and I (with him in tow, I might add) got back to the house, I immediately tried to cast him out of my brain, but all I succeeded in doing was getting highly nauseous. As he was dead to the world on the couch (or so I supposed), I decided to tiptoe outside for one last cigarette before bed.

Oops.

As I was sitting there on the deck, the chilly breeze wrapping about me like a cloak, pondering the night and preparing myself for the mother of all hangovers, my stomach lurched. Hard. I knew full well what was going to happen. And it did. I could no more control that than I could have parted the seas. I flat-out vomited. Liquor, food... everything I had consumed that day, flew out of my mouth in a spastic, heated rush. I'm the type that, even with encroaching age, still begins to cry when that happens. I fear choking to death and I try to internally correct that, stupidly thinking that, if I start bawling, whoever is above in the sky will shake their head ruefully at me and say, "Nope. You're an idiot, but you're still alive. Gold star in the mail, dumbass." Little did I know that night that the living room window was wide open, and the retching, wheezing, and gasping sounds emanating from my mouth were making their way inside, indirectly, to HIS ears. My dogs caught the noises first, and reacted by barking like lunatics. In turn, this roused him from his slumber and he dashed to the door to see what was going on. He threw the door open and wilted at what he saw. "Oh, shit. What happened?"

"Go back to bed, dude. I can handle myself; I got this." I replied stoically as I stumbled and nearly clocked myself on the door.

"No. I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna watch you tonight."

"The hell you are! I'm quite capable of taking care..."

I didn't get the sentence finished in a timely fashion, at all. I was unceremoniously grabbed up in his arms, my brain liquefied at that moment, and he carried me off to my room.

Picture this, if you will: I'm 150 pounds at 5'5". No lead weight, but no heavyweight either. Him: Nearly six foot and tipping the scales at over 200. When you throw in arms and legs like tanks, it wasn't a fair fight. At all.

"What are you doing, dude? Put me the hell down. Right now!" I wheezed as he began to pick his way slowly through the darkened house.

"Stop it. Right now. I'm putting you to bed and I plan to watch you like a hawk until the morning."

"Why? I ain't given you much of a reason to. So why on earth is THIS happening?"

"I don't know. I have not given it any thought. Now shut the hell up. Don't make me drop you."

I sighed heavily and gave in, feeling this hand press my head to his shoulder. Besides; this was quite, in fact, pleasant. Who was I to argue?

He opened my door, and kicked my clothes out of the way. Sitting me on my bed, he then admonished me to not move a muscle or say a word. He closed the door behind him and then came back two minutes later with a full glass of water. "I know you keep Advil in your desk. Where is it?"

"Directly above the computer; first door," came the weak reply.

He opened up the door above my computer and grabbed the bottle. Opening it, he shook out three of them and said, "Here. Take these and drink this."

I shot him the stink eye again. He stood up and growled, "Do not test me."

"You don't scare me AT ALL, Yoel! The hell do you think you are? Get over yourself."

His stance softened after he realized that, no matter how sick I got, I was not going to roll over. His gaze relented and he said, "You're 100% right. I should not have done that. OK. Re-calibrate. Got any pajama pants I can put on for the night?"

"You DO realize, right... that I sleep naked?"

"What about the sweats and t-shirt?"

I pointed to a heap on the floor in front of my closet.

"I see. Well, that's not gonna work."

I looked around for something he could put on. "Aha." I reached for the pair of folded pants lazily draped over the footboard of my bed. "Here. Toss these on. I'll close my eyes while you change."

"Okay."

As promised, when I heard him slide his TIGHT pants off, I summarily closed my eyes. But it damn near killed me to do. I sighed heavily and took another giant gulp of water, secretly wishing it was him. I heard him snicker as I tried to suppress my sighs.

"Open your eyes. I'm all done."

"What now?" I asked, clueless and bleary.

He didn't answer. Yet. What he DID do left me speechless. He pulled some of my pillows into an upright position and sat back. Then, he pulled me into his arms, draping them over my shoulders like a mink stole. Try as I might, to gain some distance, even an inch or two, it was all for naught. Eventually, I gave myself over to the idea of laying my head on his silky, nearly hairless chest and breathing in the silence.

Again, it was beyond amazing. I turned my head and let my eyes dance over his face. He grinned at me, real silly-like, and my skin became liquid. Attempting to ignore it, I instead pulled the covers over myself (and him, by extension) and tried to fall asleep. That was not to be. The thinness of the pants he was wearing allowed his manhood to be nearly 100 percent visible to the naked eye. And what I didn't see, I felt full-force. He was erect, rock-hard and throbbing.

"Jesus, dude! What the...?"

"Oh, shit."

I reached out my hand to grasp it, and got more than I bargained for. It was thick, pulsing and hard as a brick. I was impressed, terrified and also highly turned on, despite my lack of sobriety. I could tell he wanted to move my hand away, and he could have, but he didn't. Instead, he sighed, whispering, "This was NOT supposed to happen. Damn."

I chuckled and chuckled some more when my half-hearted ministrations began to take effect. As he was uncircumcised, he could not control his discharge (nor can I, to be frank; and I am uncircumcised as well). He began to ooze like maple syrup from a tree, and in less time than it took for a look of utter embarrassment form upon his visage, the front panel of MY pants were drenched in it.

"Whoa. What the..."

He didn't have the time to finish his statement. I reached into the crotch area, unbuttoning it and slowly, gently, fished him out. It was a breathtaking sight. My mouth watered. He cooed slightly, then snapped back into stentorian mode. It didn't faze me in the slightest.

"I want this. I want this... now."

"You're wasted. You don't know what you want."

"Drunk? Yes. Hungover? In the morning, yes. Right now, I have a good portion of my faculties about me and I don't have to work tomorrow. Here goes nothing."

I gently pulled the foreskin back and applied the tip of my tongue to the underside of the head. I began to lightly, yet firmly, lick that portion of the head until he had no choice but to concede.

"Oh my god... what is going on here? Why is my body quaking?"

"Yoel... te quiero tanto que puedo saborearlo... I want it all. And badly. And right now. For right now, consider this my way of paying you back for staying with me all night."

"Whatever the case, keep licking. And sucking. I'm ready to blow."

With that said, I pulled my head down and got to business; kissing, licking, sucking the head and as much of the tree trunk-like shaft as I could swallow whole. I heard him moan as I covered my teeth and pistoned my mouth downward.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Dude... I'm gonna cum if you keep going."

In response, I tightened up my mouth and began to pump faster.

"I can't hold back much longer, but I have a gigantic load waiting in there, and it's about to come out." All this in a breathless, ragged pant.

I lifted my head long enough to retort, "Let it. I'm ready."

He panted a few times more, gasping as if the air was slowly being sucked from his lungs, then dug his hands into my shoulders. The pain was intense, but so was this feeling of animalistic passion. Lifting his body nearly off the bed, he began to fire into my mouth. One, two, three, four...I lost count at eighteen viscous globs ricocheting off the back of my mouth, all bearing faint traces of lemonade.

I swallowed every drop and grinned at him like a damn fool.

"You are INSANE. But I like that. Let's get some sleep."

"Hold up, dude. Not so fast. I got you off, but how about me?"

"Um..."

"Fair's fair, motherfucker."

"You're right. Can I do it my way?"

"As long as your way doesn't involve pain or torture, sure."

He pulled me back against him and doffed my pants and underwear completely. He moved his legs so that mine were completely pinned beneath his. Fishing my throbber out, he began to gently stroke it, making me whimper.

"Like that?"

The only sounds escaping my lips were low, throaty moans, thick with passion.

"I know. I'm not stopping until I'm done."

"I beg you; don't."

His actions began to increase in speed and depth until my body was on fire. Liquid lava shot through my veins, my brain turned to jelly, my skin excised itself from my skeleton, and as much as I wanted to cry out with all the passion of a million blazing suns, all I could do was thrum and shudder.

"Almost there, baby?" he growled in my ear; the words were enough to set off a forest fire in my brain.

By way of answering his query, my eyes flew open. It only took about a minute after that. I grunted, "I'm coming. I can't stop!"

"Don't."

My body, or what was exposed, flew off the bed. My legs suddenly took on the strength of Mack trucks, and my torso folded in half with the sheer, brutal force of my orgasm. White fluids began to rain from the sky, unabated for what seemed hours.

A dripping wet, heavy-breathing, sopping mess, I laid back heavily, erupting in a deep sigh. He picked up the towel from the floor and cleaned me off. After he took care of the mess on my skin (a big one, might I add), he dropped the towel to the floor. Kissing my cheek, he then said quietly, "Feel like sleeping now?"

"Yes, but one thing: This NEVER happened. Got it?"

"Understood."

Pulling the covers back over us, me laying back against him, I fell quickly into a heavy, dreamless slumber as his arms wrapped around me once more. The last thing I heard from him was "This DID happen. And I WILL not forget it."

I let out a deep, quivering breath as his lips touched the nape of my neck. Sleep. That was all and everything. I plummeted headfirst into blackness.

When I awoke in the morning, I was laying in bed, him still by my side, covers wrapped around us like cocoons. He brushed my short bangs away from my sweat-drenched forehead and grinned. "Well, hello there. Better now?"

I moved closer...