Author’s note…Bacardi did not pay for the plug below in any way…but think it is my new fav beverage.
Rocco stared out the near full length window and watched the snow pound the roof across the courtyard. He assumed it was pounding as the wall of white the blizzard was creating outside the ninth story window left little sight beyond glimpses and memory.
Outside, in fact, even the street lights were blocked and reflected by the white falling on the Toronto streets giving the illusion of light coming from different angles and yet no visibility.
One thing Rocco always liked to remind people of was how little snow Toronto usually had being it was nearly on the same latitude as both Rome and, going west, fell close to the California border…but all assumed it was Canada, therefore there must be snow.
Well, today, there was.
A sip of his tin can filled with Bacardi Oakheart Spiced Rum sent a shiver down his naked spine as he continued to watch from the ninth floor window. He imagined the asphalt below getting beaten severely by the white stuff. Eyes lowering, he briefly regretted the lack of manscaping…but the soft breathing of the sleeping brunette in the other room made that thought vanish quickly.
Otherwise…other than brunette breathing, the room was silent.
The small penlight, at first, was ignored with Rocco thinking it was the illusion of the blizzard…but then it quickly caught his attention as it danced.
It danced unlike other lights. It was not a stationary street light, nor was it a slow methodical moving airline light. It moved…severely…back and forth between the snowflakes…or so it seemed until it began to grow in size.
Rocco backed away from the window as the light increased and, soon, he stood naked engulfed in a spot light. The green walls of the condo had melted away and it was nothing but the light and his body.
A voice boomed at him. “What are you doing?”
His blue eyes had trouble staying open from the brightness. “What do you mean?”
The deep voice, almost James Earl Jones-like in its Shakespearean reverb, “What are you doing?”
“Drinking, at the moment.”
“What of her?”
Rocco’s eyes squinted. “What of her?”
“Is she the one?”
His mouth did not move at first as he thought about the question. However, finally, his logic kicked in and he asked, “Who the fuck are you?”
“We have been watching you.”
Eyes searching the interior of his closed eye lids, Rocco asked, “Why?”
“Why do you call yourself Rocco?”
A shrug was the only answer he could offer.
“You think yourself a pornstar? You are not even Italian.”
A laugh belched from him. “No, not Italian, but I’d like to be a pornstar.”
“What of her, though? Are you going to hurt her?”
The answer was immediate. “No.”
“What if we were to take you away? What would she think of you?”
Again, he paused before answering. “Okay, who the fuck are you?”
“We will explain who we are later.”
“Comforting. Listen, thinking I’ve had a touch too much to drink and I should go back to bed so I can…”
“You will come with us…”
Before Rocco could complain, all went completely black and cold. All fingers and toes went numb…then legs and arms…then there was nothing left but thought. “Where am I?”
“We are showing you who you are,” said the voice with much less echo now.
A light snapped on and Rocco’s eyes saw a doctor with a blue mask stretched across his mouth.
A different voice spoke…a female voice…”Misses O’Leary, it is a boy.”
Misses O’Leary…that’s my mother’s name…
His view quickly shifted as he was pulled and he saw his mother.
Oh, fuck, mom…put some clothes on please…
The realization as to what he was witnessing shocked him.
I never hurt her!
The voice returned inside his head with echo, Are you certain?
Oh stop the Darth Vader shit. No, I don’t think I did.
The echo did vanish. Sorry, we thought that helped. She is not one you have hurt, true…but there is a reason we have taken you back here.
You were cute? In fact, you were a good boy for your parents.
I don’t get it.
You had potential that, somewhere along the line, you lost.
Wait…who the fuck are you again? The scene changed and he was back in the condo. The being standing across from him was hooded…almost looked like what Rocco would have thought of as Robin Hood in fashion.
“We are watchers.”
“Voyeurs…I like that as I have an exhibitionist streak.”
“No, watchers.” The cloak it wore shifted slightly. “You have no idea what you are, but we will show you. We must get you back on track.”
“On track for what.”
“All in good time…”
“Rocco? Are you coming back to bed?” The female voice drifted from the other room.
His mind quickly ran over the thought that four weeks ago he did not see himself here…naked…in her condo…freshly fucked and sipping his drink…talking to some spirit or aliean as she slept in her bedroom, “Yes, beautiful, I’ll be right there.”
The being vanished…not even a puff of smoke, which left Rocco somewhat disappointed.
One last glance before he turned from the window. Leaving his can on the kitchen counter, he quickly returned to the bedroom where he found her waiting propped up on an elbow.
“What were you doing?”
“Couldn’t sleep and needed a drink.” He lowered his knees on to the bed beside her, but did not crawl in.
Anticipating what he wanted, her lips found his erection and kissed the tip. “I can help you sleep,” she said before taking him much deeper.
“I know,” he whispered…grabbing a handful of her hair. His mind wandered with the sensation of her lips taking him in. For a moment…just a moment…he wondered about the being in the other room.
His mind came up with four final words on the redhead…”Sucks to be him.”…then it focused on the task at hand as he searched for the orgasm of this beauty that actually wanted him…he pulled from her lips, spread her legs, and his tongue went to work.