Changing Seasons

Thirty-Four

****

As he lay in bed that night, he thought about being young and the various situations he had found himself in while in active addiction.

He recalled being nineteen. One night, he'd ridden along with Michael and Athena when she was working. She'd had a ninety-minute "date" with an older man at a local private hot tub rental spot in SE Portland.

They'd been sitting in Michael's piece of shit Accord. It was a cold evening in December. The windows kept fogging up, and the sunroof was leaking.

"Fuck, I want to sit in a hot tub," Krist muttered from the backseat.

Michael laughed, "I can rent us one."

Krist had thought it was a joke and initially agreed. When he realized Michael was serious, he backpedaled and told him he wasn't interested. After some pushing, Michael convinced him to go in. Krist had felt embarrassed as they rented the private room, the dude working the desk giving them a knowing smirk when he protested, "It ain't even like that."

The room was cool and would have been a chill spot to take a chick. The in-ground hot tub was large. There was a small rock fountain built into the wall and low music playing.

He stripped out of his clothes, warning Michael, "If you touch me, I'm knocking you the fuck out."

Michael laughed, undressing, "Trust me, I ain't tryna touch you."

He slipped into the hot tub across from Krist, pipe in hand. They took turns hitting it.

"You ever let another dude suck you off?" Michael had asked as he handed Krist the glass piece.

Krist felt rage racing through his veins, "Dude, what the fuck."

Michael laughed loud and hard, "I'm just fucking playing, dog."

There had been other questionable instances after that. Once, he had been flat broke and fiending for dope. Michael casually mentioned a porn theatre downtown where someone could make a hundred bucks just to jerk off on camera.

"You just jack off, and they don't touch you?" Krist had clarified.

"Yeah, you just sit on a couch, and they record you."

It sounded simple enough. Krist masturbated enough that it seemed like easy money. Desperate, he and Michael drove downtown to the theater. Michael spoke to a middle-aged Asian man at the counter, who had recognized him immediately, explaining he and Krist were looking to make money.

The man nodded, looking Krist up and down. "You two, together?" He asked.

"No, by ourselves." Krist snapped, wanting to turn and leave.

"I see, I see." The man looked at Michael, motioning towards a staircase. "You. You go first."

Krist watched his friend disappear upstairs with the man, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wandered around the small, musty-smelling room, picking up various porn DVDs, examining them, and setting them back.

Towards the back of the room were two curtained entrances. Each led to a theater that played porn movies. The left side showed gay videos, the right side straight.

Krist peeked around the curtain of the theater on the right. It looked like any other outdated cinema, but instead of a regular film, it was a bored-looking woman getting her ass railed by a muscular African-American man.

Several men sat alone in the cinema seats, and a couple leaned against the wall. All of them mindlessly masturbating like a horde of horny zombies. A few patrons had noticed the sliver of light when the curtain parted, turning their glass-eyed stares to his direction, cocks still in hand.