I wouldn't call it rage.
Well, yes I would.
I was full of it, I was full of an intense murderous rage. I had no idea that I could ever have the capacity to kill someone, but now I realized I did. I wanted to kill them all. All of them for what they've done to me.
I sat in my room, some pretentious faggy room designed by some Halston knock-off-- looking and planning my escape. I felt like such an idiot for ever letting them talk me into this-- and FOR THREE MONTHS!
And I was obsessed. Obsessed with my dick, with someone's dick, with anyone's dick. I couldn't stop thinking about sex. I'd brought along some work, some research I'd been doing on new orthoscopic surgery techniques. It lay at the desk by the window overlooking the La Jolla cove-- it lay there and I lay on my bed, masturbating...over and over again.
What was I thinking when I agreed to go on this damn journey?!?
The Tiffany clock on my nightstand read 3:24am...I was still wide awake. I was restless. Had I drifted off? I didn't remember, all I knew was that I was horny again.
But this time it was different.
This time I felt like I was a kid again in high school, I was Luigi again in the 12th grade and I'd just asked Anjelica Donatoni to the prom-- and all I wanted...was to get into her panties.
I was so horny for her when I was seventeen. I hadn't thought of Anjelica in years...I wondered where she was. I was happy I never saw her after high school-- she would always be seventeen in my mind, in my memory.
I was hard as a rock-- thinking of Anjelica.
I did it again...and finally fell asleep.
"Mark! What are you doing here?"
It was Mark Fitzgerald standing over my bed. In the dark, looking down at me. He was naked and erect, he was standing there, his arms folded over his broad chest, he was wet from a swim...he was smiling down at me, leering at me.
"Eric--I've missed you-- get up."
I felt myself getting up, rising from the bed to my knees on the floor before him. I felt myself lifting my t-shirt over my head and slipping off my Calvins...I felt myself being touched by him, being grasped by him, hard, rough...just like it always was.
Mark put one hand over my mouth to silence me. The other grabbed me harder and began to pull.
I woke up.
It was a dream-- a wet dream.
I was shivering in my sleep, a light covering of sweat all over me. What was happening to me? Where would this lead?
"Andrew!!!" I screamed out loud.Silence.
