Recreational Drug Use

PART 1: WAITING FOR THE MAN

An old flame of his was coming to visit for the night. She would be in New York for business and had gotten in touch with him via email to see if she could stay with him. They'd had a brief relationship their first year of college and had stayed in touch at random over the years. Whenever they saw each other they'd have sex and it was always good. They hadn't seen or heard from each other in almost five years, though, and he was a little taken aback when she first contacted him.

She lived in Cinicinatti, Ohio, and he'd written her off, assuming she'd gotten married and had started a family. Turns out this was not the case. There seemed to be a little flirtation going on between them in their email correspondence and he was excited to see her again and "catch up".

He was almost certain they'd have sex that night. Of course they'd have sex that night. Why else had she gotten in touch with him and been so eager to stay with him?

He decided he'd be prepared and called up a guy he knew who had a Viagra prescription. Not that he needed it. But damn if he was gonna fuck this up! He had sex so infrequently he was worried he'd get drunk, not be able to perform and have to wait another year before an opportunity to copulate presented itself again.

His left a message on his Viagra friend's cell phone asking for "a little help".

Two days passed and he never heard from the guy. His old flame's business meeting would be over in a few hours and he was getting worried. On the way to the hotel where her meeting was, however, his "dealer" called and they arranged to meet at a bar on St. Mark's place later that evening.

He picked up the girl at the hotel and they went out for dinner and caught up. everything was going swimmingly. After a few drinks at the restaurant he suggested they go to the Village "to this cool little dive bar on St. Mark's."

They arrived and met his "connection". He bought the man's drinks for almost an hour and they all talked and laughed and had a good time. Eventually his woman friend excused herself and went to the bathroom.

"Alright," his erectilely-challenged friend whispered, leaning closer. "Let's do this."

The man pulled a white pill from his shirt pocket and handed it to him.

"Just take half at first," the man informed him. "If you need more of a boost later, take the rest. But half should do ya good."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and you'll probably have a killer hangover tomorrow. Or maybe not. I always do, though."

"Oh...really?"

"Yeah. But small price to pay." The man laughed.

The woman came back to the bar, where they sat, and they finished their drinks. The Viagra supplier downed the rest of his drink and excused himself. He had somewhere to be, but it was nice to meet her. And then he left.

PART 2: A NOT SO SURE THING

When they got back to his apartment they continued drinking. They flirted and talked about their respective love lives over the last five years. They watched some television, smoked and drank, and at one point, when she had gone to the bathroom, he ate half the pill, washing it down with his beer.

When she returned she informed him that she was feeling tired. He grinned and could feel a tingly sensation start to brew in his crotch.

"Is this where I'm sleeping?" she asked, pointing at the futon.

"Um...uh..."

NO! his brain screamed. You'll be sleeping in the bedroom. With me.

"I guess," his voice said. "If that's what you want."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well," she said, then laughed. "We had a good time tonight, huh?"

"Yeah," he said. "I guess."

The tingling sensation was growing. So was his "friend". He had to put a stop to this!

"You really should sleep in the bedroom. It's more comfortable. It'd be nice to wake up next to you in the morning."

She smiled nervously.

"And I promise I won't try anything if that's what you're worried about," he added quickly.

"I'd rather sleep out here," she said matter-of-factly. "On the futon."

He turned, dejected, and got an extra pillow out of his room and a sheet from the hall closet. He gave them to her.

Apparently she hadn't wanted to sleep with him after all. He wasn't surprised. But he wished he hadn't popped that pill already.

"Sleep tight," he said. He gave her a hug and tried to plant a kiss, but she pulled back skeptically, unsure of his intentions. She moved in slowly and he gave her the weakest, tiniest peck on the lips.

"Goodnight," she said.

PART 3: ONANISM

So there'd be no sex tonight. There hadn't been sex in almost ten months. There'd only been six separate sexual encounters over the last five years. And now here he was with a raging hard-on and a beautiful girl asleep in the next room!

He sat with this self-inflicted thrombosis of the genitals that he couldn't put to use.

He wasn't going to let this go to waste, he thought. He would give himself the most mind-numbing masturbation ever!

But his pornography collection was secretly stashed in the other room. Where this beautifu girl was sleeping. On the futon.

He walked through the kitchen to the bathroom and picked up The Village Voice off the kitchen table on his way.

He spread the paper out on the bathroom sink and stood over the toilet. He flipped to the back of the paper where all the sex line numbers and nude pictures were. He kept flipping through the pages looking for a good picture to toss off to. To his disappointment, 95% of the ads were for transexual he/shes. This just didn't do it for him. And why did New York have such a huge ratio of tranny sex phone lines? Was this really representative of the Voice's readership's fantasies?

As he flipped the pages he looked at the ads for escort services.

He wondered if he had any money to spend on a prostitute?

He believed prostitution should be legalized. In fact, at this very moment he strongly felt it should also be subsidized. Wouldn't it be great if you could take out a "hooker loan" from the government? He could consolidate it with his student loan and get a forebearance every year. He thought about the interest he would conceivably accrue on said loan. He'd gladly spend the next 32 years paying off a loan on a blowjob if it meant he'd be able to avoid the blue balls this Viagra-induced erection would most certainly cause.

His mind kept wandering like that throughout the course of the "task", so it took him an extremely long time to finally achieve the much needed release, but when he did accomplish it he was more than ready for bed.

PART 4: PLEASE KILL ME

The man who'd given him the pill was not kidding when he warned about the hangover. He felt like a bucket of pounded assholes. He had the most excruciating headache when he awoke the next morning. And, of course, a fully erect penis. He got up and went to the bathroom, expecting it to go down after he'd emptied his bladder, as per usual. It didn't. In fact, it stayed hard for most of the morning, so he pretended he was asleep, even after the woman in the next room had gotten up, taken a shower, fixed herself some coffee, and watched half of "Zoolander" on pay-per-view.

He took several Advil and rode with her on the train back to the airport. She said how good it was to see him again and how much she had missed him and how glad she was to be back in touch with him and all he could do was try to concentrate on not getting a hard-on. Everytime he saw a half-decent-looking woman get on the subway car, everytime he saw the slightest bit of leg (and this being summer, it was constant) he felt himself getting aroused. He would try to think about how the Mets were doing or the free checking offered at the bank on that advertisement on the cieling of the car or how many miles he thought he walked in an average day, anything to keep his mind off sex!

When they got to the airport they said goodbye to each other and he kissed her on the forehead, knowing that she didn't want his mouth anywhere near hers. She laughed and went inside and he went back to the train station and wanted nothing more than to sleep off this horrible "hangover".

After he watched one of his porns and wanked it for awhile, of course. Laying in front of the television. On the futon.