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(ed note – Lucien is one of my rare reoccurring characters. Prior stories about him can be found with the lucien stories tag.)

“When was your first time?”
“Having sex?”
“Mm no, with a man.”
Lucien rolled his head to the side and looked at me. “You think I just do this for money?”
“No. But, you seem so casual with so many men. Just men as far back as I can imagine. I was just wondering how it started.”
Lucien huffs air out his nose. “So many men indeed. My first customer was a guy moving from Virgina I think to -”
“No no,” I insist, giving him a little kick in the shin, “Your first gay experience. When you knew, you know, that you liked men.”
Lucien raises an eyebrow. “I don’t usually tell those kinds of stories to clients, stories about…” he trails off suddenly.

“You were going to say your real name weren’t you?” I ask.
“Yes,” he admits. “That boy…he is very different from Lucien. I’m not sure you’d like him.”
I furrow my brow. “But you share the same body. I like your body. I like being in your body…why wouldn’t I like him?”
“Because,” Lucien insists, “He was an angry person. A sad person. Someone who hated the world because of the life he’d been born into. When I …he was seven, his mother got him a big Costco size box of Lucky Charms for Christmas. Cause they could never afford name brand cereal right? And that meant he’d get breakfast for a few days. He ate some of it, then put it on the top shelf to save it for special occasions, like when there wasn’t food. A week later, he went to sneak some in the middle of the night and discovered a mouse had moved into it, as well as these moth things… he cried and cried. He learned that day that life wasn’t fair. I don’t think he ever recovered.”
“Lucien…that’s so sad.” I gave him a kiss. “I’m sorry.”

“See?” he insists. “This is why I don’t tell these stories. They’re not fun, or sexy, or happy.”
“So…the story of your gay encounter, it wasn’t any of those?” I dare to ask. I’m not sure now if I want to know, but Lucien has become a figurehead of fantasy in my daydreams when I’m off at university, and I feel that I must know his full story.

Lucien takes a deep breath and sighs patiently. “I thought…he thought, it wasn’t fair that God made him gay in a very rural, very conservative town in the Bible Belt. So, for a while, he was angry about that too. One summer, he got a little work detasseling corn and washing dishes for a big BBQ restaurant. Under the table. And it wasn’t fair – the other boys were spending their money on comics and sodas and cassette tapes, and those with older brothers got them to buy them cigarettes and dirty magazines; but I… – he had to save his money to buy a new pair of shoes for school, money for lunches, hair cuts. Really good duct tape to hold up the tarps that kept the rain out of the trailer. Nothing ever fun.”
I listened intently.
“There was a boy I worked with. We were both 14. He was a beautiful creature. Very serious face, a strong nose. Freckles. Bony shoulders. He was so beautiful, very distracting. A bunch of boys would go down to the quarry to go swimming after our shifts, but as more of us would wander off to go smoke or hang out with girls, it ended up just being me and him one day. And he suggested that we’d skinny dip because it was so hot. He was so stunning naked, he had the most perfect penis, even at his age. It was going to be just the right size when he was done growing, the right color, shape. I was so envious how he looked like a model, standing there in the dirt, naked with corn silk in his hair.” Lucien chuckled at the memory. “He saw me staring at him, so he came into the water and swam over to me. He asked if I ever kissed a boy before. I said no. And he kissed me. And we kissed a long time. He sat on this rock shelf submerged into the water and he let me touch him. He was so hot, so virile. His balls…Jesus, they were huge. I played with him until the water turned cloudly, then he did the same to me.”
Lucien doesn’t talk for a while. The moment is too tender to interrupt. I cuddle up against him and wait.
“As we were cycling back into town, the other me…he realized something. Life isn’t fair, but even if it isn’t fair, it can still feel really wonderful. And thus, life can be OK, as long it’s by our standards and not someone else’s standards. From then on, he thought being gay was the best thing to ever happen to him.”

“I’m glad you’re gay,” I offered.
Lucien reached over and tousled my hair. “You do love a good dick.”
I snorted and playfully shoved him. “Lucien, did something unfair happen to that boy?”
Lucien shrugs. “No.”
Relief floods through me.
“He moved away. Father lost his job or something. They moved back in with his mother’s family in Tennessee. I’m happy he got out of Cordova, went back to a bigger town, where people can appreciate a beautiful man like him. Last I heard, he joined the Marines. I bet he looks crazy gorgeous in that uniform.”

“You still think of him,” I hear myself say, in awe.
Lucien blinks at me. “I looked him up on the internet at the library some time ago. I just like knowing he’s happy, that his life is fair. Somehow, it makes me happy too. Like the universe has balanced itself out.” Lucien moves his hand over my belly and starts rubbing my half erection through my underwear. “Did that excite you? Are you ready to have sex now?”
“Fuck Lucien,” I gasp. “Even when you’re telling stories, you make me so horny It’s like the pure, unfiltered, raw kind of horny. It’s just not fair.”
He laughs for the first time today. “Not fair hm? But it feels good, right?”
“Yes, very good,” I breathe as he plays with me.
Lucien smiles mischievously at me. “Then by our standards, it can’t be all that bad.”

I can’t think of what to say to that, but Lucien is already reaching for the lube, preparing for the next stage where talking isn’t real necessary.

Text is fictional. Photo was shot by Markus Bollingmo; the original was in color and the rest of the series (must see!) are at his Livejournal here, actually.

Reblogging this from 2014 cause I wrote a sequel.


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