David Erlewine


On a business trip, I met Mark in a quiet bar. Eventually, we started betting on pool. As he won more and more, the trash talking typical between guys became one-sided. My neck hairs stood when he hissed, in my ear, “You suck.” After that, I began missing on purpose. The money at stake got outrageous, with both of us laughing and shaking our heads at how I'd ever pay up.

When my debt reached $3,000,000, Mark said, “Do what I say tonight and we'll forget about the money.” I immediately got hard. He was only a few inches taller than me but had broad shoulders and thick black hair. I nodded. In the parking lot, I glanced over at my car on the way to his. He opened his passenger side door. “Get in.”

As his garage door rumbled shut, he unzipped and grabbed my ears. I kept my eyes open most of the time.  I was surprised that he didn't smell nearly as bad as I'd always expected another guy would. After he finished, he told me to take a long shower and clean myself thoroughly, except my face and hair.

In the bathroom mirror, I studied the drying cum streaks in my hair and on my nose. The shame at acting on this type of fantasy loosened my bowels. I thought I might pass out. Mark pointed at the shower. “Come on now, get that ass sparkling clean before I say hi.”

My face got hot and I felt like crying. My son's friends would drive him to suicide if this ever got out. Did Mark have a webcam in the garage?

I turned on the sink faucet, splashing water on my face. Mark laughed. “You don't listen too good. Keep it up and I'll invite some friends over here to really have some fun.”

He pushed me to my knees. “Look up,” he said, cupping me under the chin.

I pictured thousands of eyes on me. I was no different than the hundreds of other men and women I'd jerked off to, those abused by other Marks. Why had I told him where I lived? Why had I volunteered my full name? I could be a blackmail victim for years.

I closed my eyes, pictured my life and my future. How had I let this night get away from me? I bit down on his left ball, filling my mouth with blood. He screamed and then passed out. After putting him in a choke hold for awhile, his pulse stopped. I cleaned him in the shower, and then wiped down everything I'd touched. I ripped up the bar receipt and flushed it. I tore the house apart but never found a camera.

I ran back to the bar, getting lost a couple of times, my eyes burning from sweat. The rental car was where I’d left it. I drove back to the hotel. In my room, I closed the curtains to cry and pray until my flight home. Somewhere over Colorado, I began considering how, precisely, to be more careful. 


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