make me lose control as well. I felt an orgasm looming, spreading through my entire body and then hitting

me like waves on the shore. I rode those waves, pretending that it was David’s body that I was drowning

in. Afterwards, before I pulled out of him, I smelled his longish hair. It didn’t smell nearly as good as

David’s. Afterwards I went home and never saw the guy again.

6. A taste for more

That first I guy had definitely given me a taste for more and although I’m very picky when it comes to

making friends, I wasn’t when it came to guys I could fuck. It was almost too easy to find someone to get

laid with. Everywhere there were guys to pick from; men walking around Morningside park before going

to work, students having a drink at one of the coffee bars or admiring Greek art at the Metropolitan

museum. I’d fuck as many as I could; bookish students, stupid jocks and even a college football player

who played for the Columbia lions. They’d lost their game that day, not surprising, and I helped to cheer

him up again.

These guys came nowhere near to how I still felt about my brother though. I just wanted to explore their

bodies and get laid without too much fuss. I don’t think my old friends at home would have recognized me

if they saw me now. Within months I’d transformed from a virginal high school football player to a coldhearted

fuck, who had one-nights stands three times a week. I couldn’t help it, none of the guys I met

interested me longer than a couple of hours and being a jerk became a second nature quickly.

I discovered the New York nightlife too. I went out on my own most evenings, going to the East Village,

cruising around at places with alluring names like ‘the Cock’. I liked this dark, dank spot with its sleazy

chic reputation. All the lanky hipster boys would hang out here and I would have my pick from them.

There were so many shallow pretty guys that would go for a big blond guy that I didn’t even had to try

very hard to seduce them. I think my indifference made me even more attractive and I didn’t even try to be

nice.

Some nights I would just stand against the bar watching the crowd until some sulky twenty-year old

would come on to me. I was taller than most guys in this place and could peer over the heads of the

people dancing in front of me.

So I was there on a Friday evening, having a beer and looking to score when someone asked me: “Do

you want another drink?”. I looked to my left and saw a smallish guy standing next to me, desperately

trying to get my attention although he pretended not to care. I was still holding a glass that was half full

and I showed it to the guy.

“Do you want something other than a drink?” he asked playfully. I looked at him; he wasn’t really my

type but not too bad-looking either. He was wearing a black tuxedo jacket with rolled-up sleeves, a white

T-shirt and very tight dark jeans. He reminded me of a pixy, with large eyes and a mouth that was slightly

too big for his face. I sipped from my beer and wondered what it would be like if he gave me a blow-job

with that mouth.

“Let’s go to your place then,” I said and walked after him as he led the way through the crowd.

We took a taxi to his home. While he undressed in his place he kept chatting about this band I’d never

heard about and his friends that I didn’t feel like meeting. I wanted him to shut up desperately so I walked

up to him and kissed him roughly.

“Are you always this forth-coming?” he asked me panting when I released him.

“Just shut up and lie down,” I said while I pushed him on his bed. He was drunk enough not to care.

Even when I was fucking him hard he kept on talking. He was moaning dirty little obscenities that he

though would turn me on. I had the urge to smother him with a pillow just so that he would be quiet.

Finally I was horny enough to overcome my annoyance and I came with my hands tangled in his spiky

hair. Afterwards I just wanted to leave. I got up and started dressing again.

“What are you doing?” the guy whined. “You are not even going to stay for a drink?” “Believe me that’s

the last thing I want,” I snickered. I put on my shirt and started tying my shoestrings.

“So do you want my phone number?” he asked. “No thanks,” I said and I started walking towards the

door.

“Jerk,” he said and he threw his pillow after me when I walked out.

I went outside and closed my jacket. It was a cool night and the wind felt icy on my face. Although I

was freezing, I decided to walk to my own apartment. It wasn’t that far and I needed to think.

I thought about David of course. It was his senior year now. If he got accepted to Columbia as well, he

would be in New York in a couple of months. Maybe he was still up at this moment, it was 3 o’ clock and

he liked to stay up late in the weekend to watch stupid horror movies.

“Maybe he’s watching those movies with another guy now,” said a voice in the back of my head.

“Maybe he’s letting that other guy wrap his arm around him when he’s scared, just like you did. Maybe

that guy is feeling him up the way you liked to do. Slipping his hand underneath David’s shirt, feeling his

warm breath on his face. He might even be getting laid right now, that other guy fucking him the way you

just fucked that dumb asshole.”

“Shut up!” I told myself and my voice echoed the empty street.

Still, the voice in my head didn’t stop me from going to a Campus party for college boys the next day.

Large video screens blared dance remixes while some trashy go-go boys danced on a little stage. Drinks

were strong and expensive and I only had enough money to buy myself two rum and cokes before I was

broke. Luckily, one of the bartenders took pity on me and gave me a free beer when no one was looking.

He was kind of hot and I ended up with him in his apartment after closing time. I undressed him quickly as

we came in to his bedroom and admired his body. He was Brazilian, he’d told me on the way to his

apartment, and in perfect shape. After I fucked him he pretty much begged me to stay the night. I told him

he was being pathetic and left. On my way home I felt guilty though. The bartender, I didn’t even know his

name, was probably a nice guy. He’d bought me a drink and had taken me home, he deserved better than a

guy like me…

Sometimes when I talked to David on the phone, I told him a little of my exploits in New York. I never

called him; he always called me. When I was annoyed because his voice reminded me of how much I

missed him, I bragged about all the guys I’d fucked. “Jeez Michael, I never knew you were such a slut,”

he told me. His voice sounded pinched.

“Those are not proper words for a high school student,” I told him.

“You’re not being proper either, so why should I?”

“Seriously David, there are so many hot guys here, it’s almost too easy to hook up with somebody. The

other night I fucked a Brazilian waiter, can you believe that? And he had a body like a swimsuit model,

really trim…”

“Yeah but don’t you want a real boyfriend instead of fucking around like that?” he interrupted me,

before I could give him the more gory details of my night with the bartender.

“What the hell are you talking about, I’ve just turned nineteen. Why on earth would I want to settle

down at this age when the whole of New York is waiting for me!”

“I’m just saying that if it were me, I’d like to find someone who’s really in to me and who loves me…”

“You’re such a pussy David. I’m not looking for a guy to fall in love with.” “I just love you, no other

guy can compare to you,” I though but of course I didn’t say that last line out loud.