Excerpt: Being Fitz

“Shit, that’s the way,” Jerry Mendoza said in between grunts as he fucked me in the ass from behind. He didn’t seem to care that my neck was at an unnatural angle where he had it mashed against the door with one hand, or that my own grunts were from pain, not pleasure. Hell, my dick was at half-mast and fading fast.

It hadn’t always been like this. When I’d first laid eyes on Jerry, it had been at the end of a long, miserable shift, and I’d needed a distraction in the worst way. The same old crowd had been at my semi-regular hangout, and Jerry had stuck out because he was new, interesting, and had a great smile. He’d been flirting with a dude who was my total opposite in size and age, and I had assumed I didn’t have a chance in hell. Then Jerry had looked my way and wandered over to lean next to me at the bar, beer in hand. Five minutes later, I was giving him head in the john, my knees on the dirty, sticky floor while he held my head tight and wore out my mouth.

After that first, hot encounter, I couldn’t get enough, and the sex had seemed to mean something. And then, things changed, or rather, showed themselves for what they really were. Jerry would come around to my dingy apartment with a sob story about his crap day and then screw me into a semi-coma to make up for it, not caring whether I got off or not. And I let him.

“Fitz,” he’d say in a whiny voice. “I need a little something to make me feel better. Won’t you help a guy out?” And he’d flash me a sly grin. “You know you want to.” After a few times, I finally caught on. I wanted to say “no”, but he’d give me a smile that turned me inside out—the same one he’d dazzled me with at the bar where we’d met—and I always gave in, like the fool I was.

Why? Because when he was here, with me, I had contact with another human being, no matter how unsatisfying. It meant there was a guy who wanted to have sex with me and look past the fact that I was overweight and just plain ordinary, if tall. Who am I kidding? I probably could have been as cute as a button and slender, and it wouldn’t have mattered. I was a willing hole—a total pushover. End of story.

And… Well, Jerry was hot—unbelievably so. I’d thought I was ridiculously lucky to have caught his eye in the first place and had wondered what a man such as he, as tall as I was at six-foot-three, coal-black hair and brown eyes, was doing looking my way. A few fucks later, I understood it had never really been about me.

I’d never had a long-term relationship with anyone, and sex before Jerry had been desperate groping in dark places. Now, the desperation had moved to my doorstep. Lately, I wondered if it was worth my self-respect. Sound pathetic? Maybe, but I was past caring. Except, damn it, my neck was killing me.

“Jerry, you done? I’m dying here,” I muttered, sweat pouring down my face and his hand like a clamp pinching my hip. From the vaguely pig-like sounds I heard, he was close to busting a nut. Thank God.

“Yeah, in just”—thrust—”a sec.” Then he hiccupped like a drunk and moaned, his jizz warming the condom in my ass. My cat Rapunzel chose that moment to rub against my leg. I pushed her away awkwardly with one foot and hoped she’d get the message. Frankly, I got more pleasure from Rapunzel’s attention than Jerry’s so-called lovemaking.

I was panting now, not because of need, but because Jerry was damn heavy and too warm. I reached behind me and pulled out his shrinking dick with the condom still attached, and pushed him off me.

Pulling up my pants, I zipped the fly and turned to lean against the door, sweaty puke-brown colored hair falling into my boring gray eyes as I watched Jerry toss the used condom to the floor with a splat and tuck his wet cock back into his pants. I had news for him: he was getting a little chubby around the middle, and those tight jeans he was wearing gave him a muffin top. I chose not to comment.

“You always give it up so good, baby,” he purred, or at least, that was what he probably thought he was doing. Rapunzel did it better, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see that devious feline eyeing the kitty food on the kitchen counter. I just stared at Jerry and wondered what I really saw in him.

“It was just what I needed,” he added, and he leaned in to kiss me on the mouth. God, how had I not noticed his breath was rank? It smelled like rancid ass, and not mine, either. I stepped aside so he almost collided with the door before I opened it and pushed him outside.

“You got what you wanted, Jerry. I have to be up early for work tomorrow.” And I should tell him to stop using me for a booty call, but…

He smirked. “I know you’ll dream of me tonight when you—”

“Heya, Fitz,” a voice cut in, and I saw it was my almost-new neighbor, Henry Teegle, who had stopped next to Jerry in the middle of the hallway. He’d just moved in last week and if my heart hadn’t been completely stomped on by life, I might have found it in me to have a crush.

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