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Too Drunk To Go Home
by Don bellew
"He's wrecked, drunk as a skunk!" Somebody muttered.
"That damn scotch, he was okay with the beer. Never should have started with the scotch ..."
"Don't let him try and drive home, Donnie ... make him sleep it off."
He roused up about the time everybody left. I was gathering up glasses, emptying ashtrays. He tried to stand but didn't make it. He slumped back into his chair and his head hit the table with a thump on the green felt.
"Oh, shit!" He sat up with a groan.
"You all right?" I stopped to watch him.
"Mmmm? Yeah, I'm fine. Real fine!" His grin ran downhill on one side. "Where's the guys?" He looked around, rubbed at his face.
"Long gone, man. You pretty gone, yourself. Can you make it to the bedroom? Here, let me give you a hand ..." I put a hand under his arm.
"No ... Uh, no, man ..." He let me lead him but still kept telling me, "I gotta ... no, man!"
"You gonna pass out if you don't get to bed. I dount I can carry you. You can't drive, Wally ... you know that."
"I know, man ... I know, but I gotta ... I gotta piss, dammit!" He finally got it out.
"Oh. Okay, sure ... this way, then." He leaned on my shoulder and I had to put an arm around his waist to keep him upright. "Here you go, right in here ..." I stood him in front of the commode, held his waist from behind to keep him steady. "Can you manage it?"
"Hey ... hey", he cocked his head and looked back over his shoulder with a grin. "You gonna hold it for me?"
"No thanks, Wally. I believe you can do it, take your time ... damn, bad aim, man!"
He giggled, over-corrected and leaked a trail off the other side. "Damn, make that toilet stay still, man!" He chuckled. "Told you to hold it for me." His chuckled broke into raucous laughter.
"Okay, okay ... come on. You've done enough damage. Just don't pass out on me. Come on." I got him moving and steered him to the bedroom.
"Mmmm, ceiling is spinning round and round ... hold on a sec ..." He turned and grabbed at my shoulders, lay his head against my chest. He took a deep breath, coughed a little. "Okay, let me ..." He fumbled with his belt. His cheek still pressed at my chest. "Shit." He muttered. His hands swung uselessly at his sides.
"Sit down ... on the bed. Back up and ... that's it." I knelt down on the rug, untied his shoelaces and pulled off his shoes. He was struggling to tug his tee shirt over his head.
"I can't ... get ..." he grumbled.
"I'll do it, man, just wait a minute!" I got his shirt over his head and tugged at his arms, again. "Stand up, let me get your pants down."
He giggled, back to his drunken leering jokes. "Want me to drop my pants for you, Donnie? Hell, I'll drop my pants for you anytime, man ...I'll ..." He swayed and dropped the laughter. "Whoa, kinda shaky, ain't I?"
"Yeah ... and drunk as hell, too." I told him. That damn brass buckle didn't want to give up its grip ... finally got it loose and unbuttoned his jeans ... they fell to his knees. He wasn't wearing drawers. I bent down, grabbed at one leg. "Lift this foot ... " Tried not to notice the long, heavy dangle of meat that brushed my cheek. "Now this foot." I pulled the jeans from his foot. "Okay, hit the pillow, man. You're out of it." All I had to do was press one finger to his chest; he collapsed to the bed with a grunted "Oooommph."
I sat on the bed beside him and kicked off my shoes. "Hey ... hey Donnie ... You gonna sleep with me, ain't you?"
"Yeah, guess I will ... seeing as how this is the only bed I got." I wasn't too pissed about it, either. I examined those feelings. Not that it was exactly exciting to be laying down beside a catatonic drunk but he was Wally, after all, and I liked him ... especially liked him naked and making jokes about dropping his pants for me. I'd like to pursue that topic when he was sober.
"You gotta sleep with me, man. I don't want to sleep in here by myself." He half raised up and grabbed at my arm.
"Okay, okay ... Wally, I'm right here. Let me get my clothes off, okay?" Damn, he didn't talk this much sober.
"...sleep by myself all the time, get fucking tired of being by yourself ..." he continued to grumble quietly.
"Yeah, buddy. Me too. Me too." I knew what he meant, sure enough. I stood to shrug off my shirt and drop my pants. What the hell, he was naked, right? So I dropped my drawers, too. Wallace was staring at my dick, squinting as though he couldn't figure out what he was seeing. "You ain't gonna tell the guys, are you, Donnie?" I flicked out the bed side lamp, climbed in beside him.
"Tell 'em what, Wally? We ain't done nothing. They know you staying over. Told me to take your keys ..."
"But ... just don't tell 'em ... you know, don't tell nobody." His mutterings sighed into a whisper as he cuddled up nearer, on his side facing me; lay his face on my shoulder. His thigh slid over on top of mine and his palm slipped across my chest. He sighed deeply and began a quiet snoring.
I lay still, eyes closed and relaxed. His dick pressed warm and moist against my hip. I covered his hand with mine, leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on his thinning hair. "I'll never tell, buddy." I whispered.
I woke sometime over in the night. Wally had turned away from me and I was curled up behind him, arm around his belly. I had to take a leak, carefully extricated myself from his warm limbs. "mmm ... Donnie?" He mumbled.
"It's okay. I gotta take a leak." At least he knew who I was, where he was.
"Okay." He sighed. He rolled over to take my pillow. His erection flashed in the soft light from the hallway as he flipped over, scrunched up into a fetal position. Interesting. Erotic.
I went to pee.
Felt cool when I got back, took a blanket from the closet and spread it over Wally, crawled in under it. He backed up to make room for me then snuggled close when I lay down. This time his hand slid across my belly, came to rest just below my navel ... almost there, not quite. When his hard cock pressed my hip I covered his hand, pushed it down lower. His fingers curled around my shaft as it hardened to firmness. I turned towards him; my hand went over his hip to cup his round, naked ass. Then we slept. His breath wafted up from my throat, sour and rancid but not disgusting. He smelled like a man, a man like me.
Saturday morning, daylight bright and harsh at the blinds ... Wally was in the bathroom. The flush sounded loud. He stumbled back to bed and crawled in. His eyes ducked away when they met mine. He stayed on his side of the mattress, curled to the far wall.
"Come on back, man ... please. I'm cold." My voice sounded raspy, hoarse.
He rolled over, his eyes caught mine, held. His look was startled, timid but he held the contact. "Come on, it's okay ... this is me, Donnie ..." I reached out and touched his cheek, felt the stubble of his jaw. His fear relaxed, a grin peeped out. He scooted over by me. I put out my arm, allowed him to lay on it, move in close. He kept his hips back, didn't push up against me. His hand rested in the cleft between us. Just his face on my shoulder, his knees against my thigh. "You want a smoke?" I asked him.
"No ... thanks. I just want to go back to sleep. I was dreaming pretty good." His cheek moved, made a caress of its slide on my skin.
"Are you sure it was a dream?" I chuckled.
I felt him tense up. His head rose ... "what ... uh, did you? ... did I?"
"You were too drunk to remember, huh?" That's what they all say.
"Hell, it don't matter. Don't count if I was drunk ... does it?" He relaxed, sunk back into the curve of my arm.
"Well, I sure remember ... won’t forget it, never!"
"But you can't tell nobody, ever!" He curled closer. His hand came out and slid across my belly. His hips shoved forward and his knees moved down. At last his dick pressed to my bare skin. "I thought it was just a dream ... wasn't sure it really happened."
"Well ..." I took his hand, shoved it down lower until he gripped my cock and fondled my balls. "Even if it was a dream ... we got plenty of time to make it come true."
........ jackertoo@aol.com ..........
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