His Special Something

My entire life had turned into a steaming, stinking pile of shit and I had no one to blame but myself.

I had married Susan 10 years before. It should have warned me of what was to come that we got into a screaming match at the church, in front of the altar, during the ceremony. Someone should have shot us both and put us out of our misery right then. But, no one did.

I started drinking 8 years ago. If you had been a part of my marriage, you'd have started drinking, too. I don't mean a martini before dinner, I mean I started throwing them back on the way home from work and continued until I passed out, every night. Susan liked to drink, too, which did wonders for our relationship. It was like an amateur production of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" every night, only not so civilized.

I had a good job that I literally pissed away because who can work a productive day after fighting and passing out nightly? Our house was in foreclosure and we had to hide the car from the repo man. And then things got even worse.

Susan and I went "out to dinner" to discuss our situation. Dinner, in this case, consisted mainly of scotch and we wound up being thrown out of the restaurant. I had drunk myself into semi-consciousness and Susan was only a tad better, which is why she drove. Halfway home, even drunk as we were, we got into another screaming match that began with "drunken prick" and "whoring cunt" and then got ugly.

Susan was half turned in the driver's seat and beating me with her purse when we hit a patch of black ice. The cops said they didn't even see any skid marks before we went through the guard rail, so I assume that Susan wasn't even aware. She was lucky, we flew over an embankment and at the bottom she broke her neck and died instantly. The cops also said that I must have been so drunk that I bounced around like a jellyfish in the car. It took 4 hours and the Jaws of Life to extricate me from the wreck.

When they finally got me out, I heard one of the EMT's say to the other, "DWI, look like a pair of alkies. Unfortunately, one of them survived."

I was miraculously almost unharmed, a bunch of bruises and cuts and strained muscles. I should have died, too.

Shortly after the wreck, I lost the house. I'd already lost my job and the car was uninsured because Susan was supposed to pay it and didn't, so I was without a car, too. At least I had some good prescription pain killers out of the mess.

I wound up renting a shitty little studio apartment, hoping to drink myself to death. The only problem with the plan is that you need an income to buy booze.

There was one of those crappy big box stores within walking distance of my place and I cleaned myself up as best possible and applied there. The only thing they offered me was a job stocking all night with the rest of the walking dead and, of course, I accepted.

I hated the job, the store and 99% of my coworkers from the first minute. There was one guy I could halfway tolerate, an old alky like myself, so we usually wound up working together.

About a month after I started the job I was already so fed up that I felt empathy for those assholes who take a semi-automatic to work with them one day. So, when I came up with the idea of destroying stock, it was par for the course with every other fucked up thing I'd ever done.

We would nightly get print out sheets of what we needed to stock. We'd use a forklift to download the stock from the over head racks, drive the pallet to a location and unload whatever was needed. I discovered that the loading dock and the garbage chute to the compactor were never occupied over night, so I started stopping off there. I'd load up the stock needed, fill in what was called for, then drive the forklift to the dock and dump the rest of the new stock down the chute. I laughed every time I did it thinking about the billionaire families I was screwing.

There was only one security guard on the overnight, a short fireplug of a guy. He was only around 5' 9" but he was solid muscle. His upper arms looked about as big around as my skinny thighs and you could have probably bounced a quarter off of his pecs.

My co-worker and I were in the break room eating lunch one night when the security guard came in and sat down to have a coffee. I was in the middle of a really rude story about some tramp that I had supposedly picked up the weekend before and brought back to my room to fuck. I was being really crude and insulting, which was my standard mode at the time, running the tramp into the ground and laughing.

After a few minutes, the security guard stood up and came over to the trash can by us and threw his cup into it.

"Funny how all of you big time players are stuck on the night shift with a dog shit job, isn't it?" he said.

"I see you're working the overnight, too." I said. "Maybe if you got a little pussy it would ease the stick back out of your ass."

"And maybe if you got a little pussy, you wouldn't have to sit around and fantasize about it." he replied.

"Oh, wait, a burn out like you probably can't get it up anymore, anyway, and wouldn't know what to do if he could."

He really pissed me off because he was fairly accurate. Alcohol has a way of making sure your dick stays limp.

"I'm betting I get more pussy than you ever do." I said.

"That could be." he replied. "But first you'd need to take a bath in Kwell and be scrubbed down with a wire brush and boiling water to get the stink off of you. A shampoo and a haircut and brushing your teeth once in a while might make a difference, too. At least you'd look halfway human."

I was pissed off the rest of the shift, mainly because everything the guy had said was true. When I got home afterward, I took a long look in the mirror. It would be a compliment just to say I looked like warmed over shit. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like having a drink.

I crashed for a few hours and then got up and carried my sorry ass down to the barber shop. I did look better when he had finished and that night before work I took an extra long shower and did some much needed grooming. I used to be a fairly good looking guy.

When the security guy unlocked the door to let me in that night, he looked me up and down and said, "You still look like 'The Lost Weekend" but it's an improvement."

"And you still look like an Arnold Schwarzenegger wanna-be rent a cop, no improvement." I replied.

He responded by making that two fingers to the eyes and then back at me movement meaning, "I'm watching you".

I went to work and my fury at the cop, myself and my generally shitty life fueled me up. I worked all night and still managed to dump several pallet loads of inventory down the trash chute before morning.

That day, I didn't drink again and I felt better, amazingly. I'd forgotten what it was like not to be half lit 24 hours a day.

That was a Friday and I had two days off. I spent time sleeping, eating decent food and doing more personal grooming. I even started exercising a little bit.

Sunday night when I reported for work I was feeling a lot better about myself.

The macho security guard let me in and I said, "How you doing, Occifer Friendly?"

"Just shut it and get to work." he replied.

"You don't like me much, do you?" I said.

"What's to like? You're a total fuck up and a waste of time."

"I've been through a couple a shitty years." I replied. "I'm not making excuses, I'm just saying that I may have reasons and I'm not a bad guy."

"We all have shitty times and we all have reasons. But unless you're a total asshole you suck it up and move on. So, don't expect sympathy from me."

"Jesus, I bet when you fuck you cum ice water." I said and went to work.

Over the next few nights I found myself looking for the guard during work and often I'd look up to see him watching me. It was getting embarrassing.

He had started to grow a mustache and by the next Thursday night it was almost grown in.

"I like the mustache." I told him when he let me in that night. "It makes you look like one of those 70's porn studs."

"That's me." he said. "Straight up dirty sex, asshole."

I looked at him, his muscular arms and his tight torso. He had beautiful eyes and full lips that I noticed for the first time. Suddenly a realization hit me and I hurried away into the store.

I had a crush on the security guard. I'm not gay; at least I've never had gay sex. I've had a couple of man crushes over the years but nothing ever happened, I just admired some guys. This was different because as soon as I realized what was going on, I started fantasizing about what the guard would be like in bed, what he looked like nude and what kind of sex acts I'd like to do with him. I got a spontaneous erection just from the fantasies.

Knowing that I had the hots for him made me act like an even bigger goofball than usual whenever he was around. I'd trip over my feet, stutter, all of the stuff you do when you're thirteen and suffering your first adolescent infatuation. I could barely formulate a sentence and I began preening in front of the mirror, hoping he'd remark on how much better I was looking.

That went on for about another week and a half, me getting flustered every time I saw him and fantasizing hot gay sex scenes whenever I didn't.

Finally, one Thursday morning around halfway through my shift I looked up and he was at the end of an aisle staring at me. He made a beckoning motion, so I climbed off of the forklift and went up to him.

"Upstairs in the office, right now." was all he said before he spun on his heel and walked off.

The security office was built on a mezzanine inside the store at the front and had large windows that overlooked the whole store. I climbed up the metal stairs and walked into the office where he sat at a desk.

The guard said, "Shut the door behind you." and then got up and closed the shades over the windows.

"I've got something to show you." he said.

He motioned me over to his side after he sat down and then hit a key on his computer. A black and white film clip played, shot from overhead, showing me dumping inventory down the garbage chute. He hit another key and the clip stopped and was replaced by another clip, showing me in different clothes doing the same thing. I broke out in a cold sweat.

"You're an even bigger asshole than even I thought." he said. "I've got a whole series of these. The manager asked me to review the security tapes because inventory keeps coming up short and they thought someone was stealing it somehow. What the fuck is wrong with you, didn't you think anybody would notice and watch the tapes?"

"I didn't know about the tapes." I said, feeling like the biggest asshole ever.

"There are fiber optic cameras over every square inch of this place." he said. "You're totally fucked. There's enough here to send you to prison."

Now I really began to sweat and my legs felt wobbly. I crouched down beside him to keep from falling down.

"Can't you give me a break?" I asked. "I've never done anything like this before and I won't do it again. For the first time in a long time I feel like I'm on the right track but I fuck everything up, no matter what I do."

"I read your personnel file." he said. "I read some old news stories online, too."

"And so now you know that I'm a total piece of shit. I'm the one who should have died; maybe Susan could have had a happy life if I were the dead one."

"And maybe she would have just found another asshole exactly like you." the guard said.

I had never thought that maybe Susan and I were both to blame. It was too much to take in along with being busted.

"Give me another chance." I said. "You won't be sorry. I'll do anything you tell me to from now on."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking puzzled.

I rested my hand on his thigh and said, "I'll do anything. You're a good looking man and I realized I'm really attracted to you. There's something different about you and I can't get you out of my head. I'll do anything you want me to. I'll suck your dick. I'll even let you fuck me in the ass."

"Whoa." he said. "Now you're trying to bribe me with sexual favors? I could have you arrested just for that."

He stood up and walked over to stand by the windows.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I've got like an obsession about you. Go ahead and have me arrested, I don't care, but I still want to suck your cock."

He stood looking at me without speaking for a couple of minutes as if he was weighing something in his mind.

Finally, he said, "Stand up."

I did as instructed and then he said, "Strip."

As I started removing my clothes I said, "I've never actually done anything with a guy before. You'll have to tell me what you like."

"You're not going to touch me." he replied. "You're going to give me a show."

By now I had taken off everything except my briefs and he motioned for me to remove them. I was excited and my cock had gotten stiff while I undressed. Now, as I lowered my briefs it sprang free and swayed upright in front of me.

The guard looked me over and said, "Nice sized cock."

I always thought I might be a little bigger than average but I'd never had a guy comment on it before. I was glad that I'd started exercising a few weeks before, at least my body had a bit of tone to it.

There was a long table in the center of the room with chairs on both sides and the guard sat down in his desk chair and rolled over so that he was at the table's end.

"Climb up on the table on your knees at the other end." he told me.

I did as he said with my throbbing cock leading the way. When I was on the table, he told me, "Lean back and sit on your haunches. Spread your legs so I can watch your balls swing and look at your ass hole while you jerk off."

If this was supposed to be some kind of punishment, he had misjudged me. I'd spent the last couple of weeks fantasizing about every gay sex scenario I could think of involving him and this was even hotter than my fantasies.

Precum had started leaking out of my piss hole and I made sure that he was watching as I spread it over my cock head and then licked my fingers clean. I grasped my stiff cock shaft and slowly began to jack it in front of him. He had his hands under the table and I could tell that he was masturbating too.

I made a good show of jerking off; varying my speed so that I didn't cum too fast, leaning back so that he could see my ass, spreading the sticky precum up and down my cock. He was getting more and more into it and his hands were speeding up under the table. I started jerking myself harder and faster with my right hand while pulling my balls down tight in the sack and stretching them. That seemed to turn him on more and he began panting. I could tell from his face when he came and it put me over the edge, too.

Long ropes of jizz squirted out of my piss slot and splashed onto the tabletop in front of me. The guard sat and watched intently, taking in every spurt.

When my balls were finally emptied, I leant back. The guard got up and opened a drawer and threw a roll of paper towels at me.

"Clean up your mess." he said. I noticed a large wet spot in the crotch of his trousers.

I cleaned up the table and put my clothes back on and then stood waiting while he moved over back behind the desk.

"Are you going to call and have me arrested now?" I asked.

He looked up at me and said, "I've already deleted the security files." He detached a thumb drive and held it up and said, "But I saved it all on this. Fuck up again even a little bit and I'll turn you in. Now get the fuck out."

I didn't know what to say, so I turned and walked over and opened the door.

"I can come back again tomorrow night if you want." I said.

"It's not like we're all of the sudden BFF's or something." he said. "Pull the same shit and you're going to jail. And stay the fuck out of my way from now on."

It wasn't exactly the kind of ending that I had fantasized about but I was feeling pretty high over the whole thing anyway. The rest of the shift I kept popping a boner whenever I thought about the guard's gorgeous eyes watching me while I jerked my dick.

I was off the next two nights so I didn't see him again until the start of the next week. When he let me into the store I said, "I never did ask your name."

"That's because it's none of your damned business." he said and turned away.

I began to walk away and I heard him say behind me, "They call me Sandy."

That was enough to make my evening and I went to work on the stocking energized. Late in the shift I went into the john to take a piss and as I standing at the urinal letting go, one of the stall doors opened and Sandy came out and walked to the sinks. I pulled back from the urinal so that he could see the dick in my hand and he glanced my way, then back into the mirror.

"This is a retail store." he said. "We don't deal in used merchandise."

I was so surprised that he'd made a joke that I burst out laughing and he looked in the mirror and started laughing, too.

"You don't get paid to stand around with your dick in your hand, asshole." he said and walked behind me and out the door.

I had spent all weekend replaying the previous week's encounter in my mind. There was something about that guy that made me crazy with lust. Even when he walked by and I smelled his scent I got stiff. I'd never experienced anything like it in my life and I was confused and excited.

We saw each other in passing over the next few nights but I didn't get a chance to talk to him. He was the first thing I thought about in the morning and the last thing at night. I even surfed the internet reading articles to see if you can suddenly become gay later in life and how common it was. What I read just made me more confused.

The next Thursday during my shift I was in the john again, washing my hands when I looked up and saw Sandy once more coming out of a stall. He walked over to the sink beside mine and began to wash his own hands while we looked at each other in the mirror.

He looked so hot to me and I was so hot for him that before I even thought about what I was doing, I turned to him and pulled him into my arms and kissed him hard on the mouth. For the briefest second he kissed me back and then he used his full strength to push me away from him. I stumbled backward, hit the wall and slid down it to sit on the floor.

"Jesus Fuck, what the hell was all of that?" he said.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I just lost control. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Well, it did, asshole. What is wrong with you? I've got my own problems; I don't need anymore shit in my life."

"How do you think I feel?" I asked. I could feel myself getting pissed off. "I never had any kind of gay shit going on in my head before I met you. Now it's like I'm obsessed with some jerk who hates my guts. This is all your fault."

"Don't put your shit on me." Sandy said. "You don't know anything about me." He looked pretty pissed off, too.

We glared at each other for a minute and finally he said, "Are you hurt? Can you get up?"

"I'm fine." I said. "The only thing hurt is my pride. Some people would like it if I tried to kiss them."

I dusted myself off and was heading out the door when I heard Sandy say, "And I don't hate your guts."

Just like that, I was euphoric and my obsession was back in full force.

I was on my way out at the end of my shift at the same time that Sandy was leaving.

"Want to go have breakfast?" I asked.

"No." he replied.

"Want to go have coffee?"

"No."

"Want to go out to dinner tonight?"

Sandy stopped and looked at me.

"Are you like mentally ill or what?" he asked.

"I just want to spend some time with you." I said.

"Believe me, I'm not that interesting. Don't you get it when somebody is ignoring you?"