Here’s the second part of the…unusual…Jack’s Devil story. In which Jack receives an unasked for present.
I wake up to a knock at my door. It takes me a second to clarify the world into things that make sense again. The bits and pieces of my dream slip through my fingers as I try to recall them. There was a trumpet that played a beautiful sound…
Then there’s another knock at the door so the trumpet is as far as I can go. I climb out from under the sheets, which are all twisted around me and stuck to my skin in the sweaty early-summer heat. I kick my way into a pair of sweatpants lying on the floor and swipe my hair into some kind of working order.
“One minute,” I call toward the front door and head to the bathroom instead.
I do some quick mouthwash action and inadvertently check myself out. I look like shit basically. Cowlick is in full effect, there’s an angry red zip on the top of my left ear, and my “warm-as-honey brown eyes” are bloodshot to shit. Lovely.
Still shirtless and sticky from sleep I start to think I should have applied deodorant, but it’s too late in the game for that. I answer the door without checking the peep-hole which I rarely do. It’s too early in the morning for visitors.
There’s a guy standing there in cargo shorts and an ironic t-shirt. His keys are attached to his shorts via a carabiner. I assume he’s delivering something.
“Hi. Can I help you?”
“Happy birthday, Jack,” says the stranger at my door.
Three things occur to me near simultaneously: 1—It’s my birthday. 2—I haven’t heard anything from Sid all morning. 3—The delivery guy (or whoever he is) is standing in my doorway on a Wednesday morning with his dick hanging through his fly.
“Pretty good, huh? I sent him an email last night and arranged this little affair,” Sid says cheerily into my head.
So now my devil knows how to email. Fucking great.
“And I mean, you already paid for it, so you might as well enjoy it,” he continues.
Paid for it?
“Don’t worry, I used your credit card,” Sid explains.
Not for the first time I wonder about the possibility of an exorcism, but since that didn’t go so well last time, I just shake my head, take a deep breath and smile at the nice prostitute in my doorway.
“Sorry to be that guy, but I think my friend is playing a prank on me. You can come inside though.” I step aside and let him in, he surreptitiously puts his junk away. “Do you want a coffee or something?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m caffeine-free. It gives me the jitters.”
I nod. Caffeine makes me jittery too, but it’s the only way I can deal with Sid all day without the use of a gin IV. I start to offer the guy something to eat, but Sid cuts into my consciousness.
“Are you really not going to fuck the guy I bought for you?” his ‘voice’ has a tone of mock hurt.
“Breakfast then? I was going to make eggs,” I say to my impromptu visitor, ignoring Sid altogether.
“Are you going to make yourself breakfast on your birthday?” He wrinkles his nose.
“I can make you fuck him, you know. It wouldn’t even be hard…” Sid says, clearly put out.
“I don’t mind,” I tell the guy, already moving to the kitchen. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“At least let him blow you, Jack. You already paid for it. You might as well take a blowjob. Just a blowjob and I’ll leave you alone,” Sid whispers. He’s at his most dangerous when he whispers.
I set the eggs on the counter and think about Sid’s deal.
“Hey, Ted,” I start.
“A blowjob? Sure,” he replies. He’s coming toward me with a substantial grin on his face. I notice for the first time how handsome he is in the stubbled, downtown resident kind of way.
He’s pulling down my sweatpants before I have time to ask the question on the tip of my tongue. He’s already sliding my half-hard cock into his mouth before I can form the words. It feels so nice and relaxing that I never get to find out: how did he know what I was going to ask?
“See, that’s not so bad, is it? Sometimes you just have to give yourself something nice.” Sid is still whispering. I shudder for more than one reason.
Ted’s keys jingle every time he moves his head. I slide to the back of his throat and he doesn’t gag. Most excellent.
I close my eyes and put my hand on Ted’s head while he swallows my cock. I’m in my kitchen, barely awake and I’m getting my dick sucked. Not a bad way to start my birthday off. I barely think about how much of my money that Sid spent on this blowjob. Instead I thrust my hips forward and Ted takes it with a few grunts that only make me harder.
It’s crazy how relaxed I am. Ted’s casual sucking lulls me further and further into a rhythm that clears my thoughts, saps the tension from me. I almost forget I’m standing.
“Relax,” Sid murmurs. His voice is like having someone softly stroke your neck. A little part of me, thinks maybe I shouldn’t trust him.
I think I’m starting to cum, but it’s so mellow that I almost miss it. It’s like a rolling wave of positive energy flowering below my waist. It’s more of a sigh than a shout.
Then I open my eyes and I’m in bed. I look around and there’s no Ted.
“What the fuck?” I mutter.
I find my phone lying beside my pillow and I have six missed calls. Apparently it’s Friday afternoon and I’ve missed work. For two days.
“You were so relaxed, I thought I’d let you sleep,” Sid says.
“Oh my god. I’m going to be fired. You just got me fired.” I’m already trying to figure out how to pay my upcoming rent without a job. It’s irritating that I’m having trouble working up a sufficient level of panic.
“I don’t think He would help you with that even if He could. Besides, aren’t you wasting your talents at a sandwich shop?”
I ignore him and get dressed. I have to get down to work so I can beg my boss not to fire me. Best/worst blowjob ever.