Page 75 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

“I doubt it,” Fergal said. “Nothing that’s part of you could ever be ugly.” He then continued his pleasurable assault on the back of Joe’s briefs, with intermittent kisses of Joe’s neck and back, including the scar. After several minutes of getting to know Joe’s rear side, Fergal sighed. “Okay, turn over.” Joe flipped onto his back. Fergal then took him by the ankles and lifted his muscly legs into a bent position, then pressed down until Joe’s knees were framing Fergal’s face. “Limber, aren’t you?”

“I took karate as a kid,” Joe whispered. His nuts were ready to burst.

“Let’s see how far you can go.” Fergal pushed down until Joe’s knees were by his ears, and his face was close enough to kiss him longand hard, the salty-sweet wetness pouring into Joe’s mouth. He couldn’t get enough, and neither, it appeared, could Fergal. It was as if they were both dying of thirst, and their mouths were the only potable water on Earth. After several minutes of making out, Fergal shoved off his boxers. His uncut cock sprang from a natural bush of black hair, its big head spitting and straining from the foreskin. It had to be one of the most beautiful dicks Joe had ever seen. However, he had underestimated its size. This inspired an excited tingling in the base of his stomach as well as a slight, anxious clenching in other areas.

Joe shimmied out of his briefs. His own cock, circumcised and as impressive as the rumors, thumped against his belly. Fergal fell upon him, licking Joe’s hairy chest, exploring his nipples, his biceps, his belly, his thighs. Then he took Joe’s dick into his mouth, and Joe let out a sigh at how warm, wet, and incredible it felt. Vince had been completely wrong. Joe was finally—finally!—having sex with Fergal the ferryman, and everything was working great. After making his way several times to the middle of Joe’s meaty cock, Fergal tried to deep-throat him, which led to a brief choking fit.

Fergal didn’t seem to mind, though. “Sorry about that,” he said with a grin. “I’m not used to—”

“It’s okay.” Joe smiled. “My turn. Lie back.”

Joe sat up and guided Fergal so that his head was resting on the pillow. Then, starting with another deep kiss, Joe worked his way down the ferryman’s body, kissing the perfect hairy triangle at the top of his chest, then down to his small, smooth pink nipples, which he licked and then gently bit, gauging the intensity by listening to Fergal’s groans. Then he moved on to his belly button and that sexy treasure trail, which Joe’s lips rode all the way down until he landed face-first into that exquisite tangle of hair beneath. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Joe straddled Fergal, letting the wet tip of the ferryman’s cock tease his hole. It felt so right that he was going to do this with him. It at last made sense why all the other men since Elliot hadn’t worked. They just weren’t right.This is right. Fergal is right.Joe stole another deep kiss before lifting Fergal’s long muscular arms to dive into the thicket of black armpit hair.

“That tickles,” Fergal barked with laughter. Then, less than a moment later, “Do it again.”

So Joe did, and then he moved back down, running his tongue over Fergal’s balls, then on to the shaft of his cock, then the tip of his foreskin, which, after spending some time with it, he gently pulled down to reveal the wet pink head. Finally, he took it into his mouth, causing Fergal to groan with pleasure. The sound poured warm honey throughout Joe’s body. Wanting to hear what other sounds Fergal might make, Joe began testing out different spots on Fergal’s cock, listening for which area or technique elicited the strongest reaction of pleasure. Finally, after a deep breath, Joe took the whole thing all the way down until it filled his throat, causing Fergal to growl like some waking monster as his entire body quivered.Found it!Joe loved knowing he could make Fergal’s body react like that. It made him feel powerful—to be desired by someone whom he desired so completely. Joe pulled his mouth off for a moment to take a breath, but then Fergal lifted his hands to the top of Joe’s head, encouraging him to go again. Joe happily did, going from the tip all the way to the base, up and down, over and over until Fergal’s body began to buck.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Fergal begged, pulling himself from Joe’s mouth. “Getting too close.” He took a few stabilizing inhales and exhales, then said, “Onto your stomach please.”

Joe complied, figuring Fergal was ready to fuck him. Anal sex was a big deal for Joe since he rarely ever did it. Elliot had never fucked him despite how much Joe had wanted him to. As far as the handful of other men who had tried over the years, it usually ended badly. Joe just could never fully relax, his mind too consumed about worries over the virus. He’d always clench up, which made it painful. Could he ever be fully open? Could he ever have sex fearlessly? There was something about being with Fergal that felt different, that made him think it would be different with him. He trusted him—which was the hottest thing of all.

Joe’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the feeling of Fergal’s hands spreading his ass cheeks open. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to close up, but instead of feeling the painful poke of a cock, he felt the delicious scratch of Fergal’s beard pushing into his ass crack. Now it was his own sighs of pleasure that filled the room as Fergal began to devour his hole in ways Joe had never feltbefore—in ways that seemed to defy physics.Is that his tongue? His lips? His fingers and tongue together?Joe wanted to ask him what he was specifically doing so he could one day return the favor, but, paralyzed by the sensation, he couldn’t speak. In fact, something strange started to happen: He felt himself fall into a kind of trance. Flashes of ocean waves crashed inside his head as did images of Fergal naked, swimming in the deep, his weird webbed toes propelling him onward, his beautiful body undulating in an underwater world the exact color of his blue-blue eyes. The vision seemed to be inviting Joe to go deeper into the sea with him, guiding him.

Meanwhile, on land,back there, he could feel himself opening up as never before, and with each thrust of Fergal’s tongue, Joe’s body began twitching and begging for Fergal to go deeper. It was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt. Eventually Fergal lifted his damp beard and mouth and whispered, “Condoms?”

Joe almost wanted to cheer. He pointed to the side table, where a small Winnie the Pooh bowl sat filled to the brim with at least fifty various square packets and a small bottle of lube. “Howie and Lenny left that there this morning. I guess they sensed something.”

Fergal picked one of the packets labeled Magnum and tore it open, sliding the rubber over his cock. He then lifted Joe’s legs into position, rubbed some lube gently into the already wet hole for good measure, and pressed the tip of his cock against the opening. An electrical current shot directly from Joe’s sphincter into his guts, making his toes curl with excitement. He longed for that moment when Fergal would painfully push past the rim until Joe’s insides would suddenly relax and reshape to fit Fergal’s cock perfectly. Pain would turn to pleasure—or that’s what he hoped.

“Please,” Joe begged. “I can’t wait anymore.”

He held his breath, but then Fergal stopped cold. After three labored breaths he pulled his body from Joe’s and flopped onto his back. Then he snapped off the condom. Joe lay there, and a torrent of dark thoughts began swirling around his brain. Had Vince been right? Was good sex impossible after the third date? When he finally looked over at Fergal, he saw the tears in his eyes.

Joe sat up quickly. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do anything. If you’re not into it … it’s no big deal. Really.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” There was a thickness to Fergal’s voice. “Not into it? I’ve wanted to be with you ever since that first day you came over on the ferry. And that morning at the Meat Rack when you were messed up? It took everything I had to leave. I wanted you so bad. He cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is …” Fergal squeezed his eyes closed, like the words he was seeking might be hidden behind his eyelids.

Joe was numb. His mind echoed with anotherunfinished sentencefrom years before, with Elliot.No, please, no. This can’t be happening again.

“What?” Joe asked, hoping it wasn’t what he already knew it was.

“I’m HIV positive,” Fergal said. “I meant to tell you about it sooner, but then I got scared you’d reject me, and …” He stopped as if he ran out of air to inflate his words.

“When did you find out?” Joe whispered through his numbness.

“Last fall,” Fergal said just as quietly. “Remember that Buck guy from Hawaii who taught me to surf? We got loaded and stupid one night. It was the first time anyone ever fucked me, and I didn’t even like it. He didn’t know he had it yet. The good news is my T cells are pretty high, but … you know.” He used the corner of the bed sheet to wipe his nose and eyes.

For several minutes, the two men lay next to each other, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, not embracing, but not pulling away, their limbs simply waiting.

Joe listened to the old house settling. He listened for the crickets outside the attic vent. He listened for Fergal’s breathing, the way he used to listen for Elliot’s—an assurance that he was still alive. There it was, sitting inside his chest, the familiar grief for a man still healthy, a man he was certain he could fall in love with, a man who would die far too soon unless a miracle happened. He had thought his friendship with Elena, open talks with Howie, and the volunteering for the ACT UP benefit might make him less terrified of the disease, but it hadn’t. Why was this happening? Didn’t he deservesomerespite from the constant fear that the man he wanted in his life might only have a matter of years or months left to live?

“Can I tell you something?” Joe asked.

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t been totally honest with you. I wasn’t really lying … or maybe I was. But since we’re coming clean about stuff … well, it’s like this. When Elliot died, we weren’t exactlytogetheranymore.”

Fergal shifted to look at him. “Why are you telling me this right now?”

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