#SELL ME SOME METH PLEASE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misserabella · 11 months

Text

perfect sin

innocent sub virgin! abby x dom fem! reader

synopsis;; Abby was a good girl. Was…

cw;; use of y/n (sorry but it was needed), sub and complete inexperienced yet not innocent abby, references to the bible (algo unholy use of abby’s one) and church, mocking of god, the bible and sins (PLEASE AGAIN, DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY), cursing, alcohol drug use, dry humping, loss of virginity, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, scissoring, dumbification, masturbation (both receiving), oral sex (a receiving), worshipping kink & god kink (kinda???), overstimulation, dacryphilia (kinda?), finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Abby Anderson was a good girl. A straight A’s student, not a big fan of parties, hated alcohol, didn’t do drugs kind of good girl. And… she was really religious. She had always been. She accompanied her father to church every Sunday, went to a religious school and based her reading on her worn bible before going to bed every night. At her eighteen years of life, the most ‘unholy’ thing she had ever done was lie, and she made sure to swear that she’d never do it again.

But that oath didn’t age well, since she was, once again, lying about the fact that she’ll be staying over one of her church friends’ when she was planted in front of the biggest party she had ever seen —the only one she had ever seen, to be honest—.

Although Abby was a good girl, her best friend, Ellie Williams, surely wasn’t. They were complete polar opposites. You just had to stare at them to see that. Whilst Abby seemed like a complete church girl with her button shirt tucked on her caqui pants and her school’s white little sleeveless sweater on top. —She looked so nerdy and cute with those glasses of hers…— Ellie looked like a rockstar, with her smeared eyeliner, short auburn hair, black clothes and silver rings…

Nobody knew how the two of them could be such good friends… But they were. Ellie was a bad influence, always breaking the rules and getting in trouble. And Abby was… the good influence, the pure one of the couple, always in charge of putting some sense into Ellie’s head when her mind convinced her on doing things that seemed like a good idea when in reality were not and getting her out of trouble. They worked.

Ellie loved to hang out with Abby, always trying to make her do something bad and ‘unholy’ but always getting a ‘no’ for an answer. And she thought that it will be that way forever, but surprisingly enough, Abby had acceded to go with her to one of those crazy parties she always attended. So there they were, stepping into the packed house and automatically being hit by the smell of cheap alcohol, weed and hormones.

Abby didn't like it. She couldn’t help scrunching her nose, overwhelmed by the new surroundings. The air was saturated and it was too warm, making her glasses slightly fog.

Ellie laughed at her face, pushing one of her arms over her best friend’s shoulders and dragging her further inside with her. Abby felt as if the devil had took a hold on her and dragged her to Hell.

"Yo Ellie! Got some crystal?" Oh, right. Another thing about Ellie was that she was popular. Really popular. A lot of people waved at her as the two of them passed by. Probably due to her incredible stash and weed. But either ways, she had a lot of friends.

"Look for me later, 'lright? I´ll see what I can do for you then, pretty girls." the girls that had approached her smiled, nodding and giggling as they took off.

"Crystal?" Abby wondered, to what Ellie rolled her green eyes.

"Meth, Bibi. Meth." the blonde scrunched her face. She was well aware that Ellie was a dealer, she wasn't that stupid, she just didn't know much about it. And honestly, she'd like to keep it that way. Of course she was concerned for her best friend's well being, but Ellie had promised him that she wasn't getting into anything hard, weed was her way to go. "That shit is selling like Tommy’s beers." she shook her head, pulling her down the hallway and towards the salon, which connected to an open garden with pool and where the dancing floor took place.

"Ellie!!!" both of them turned to a brunette smiley girl with a cigarette on her left hand.

"Dina!" she seemed just as pleased to see the brown eyed as her to see her. "What are you doing here!?" the arm that stood around her shoulder fell when she stepped closer to her to pull her into a tight hug.

"Oh, you know... y/n." she rolled her eyes, still a happy smile making her cheeks swell.

Ellie chuckled. "That little friend of yours is a true menace..." she shook her head. "I like her." that only made Dina laugh.

"Everyone does..." she sighed, taking a hit to her cigarette as her eyes found Abby's. "Let me guess... Perfect hair, ironed clothes, that church girl's face...Is this Bibi?" Ellie smiled as she nodded, surrounding her friend's shoulder with her arm again before pulling her flush to her side.

"In holy spirit." Abby pushed her hand away when her fingers dug on her hair, messing it all up.

"Nice to meet you Dina." she said, offering one of her warm hands, trying to be polite.

"My pleasure." she actually took it, giving her a funny smile. "You seem scared... First party?" she felt his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as she nodded. “Aw, isn’t that cute… Try not to get eaten alive, hm?” Abby’s eyes widened at her words, but she simply laughed, stealing a bottle of whiskey from one of the guys that went heading towards the kitchen to refill the drinks before giving them their back, cigarette in between her lips as she walked away, turning around when she didn’t hear the two pair of friends following her. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”

They understood then, nodding and following her down another hallway and into a more private room. From the little people inside Abby thought it could be for VIPS. The room was big, with a couple of sofas sitting around a little coffee table, which stood full of cigarettes, alcohol, little plastic bags, weed…

It seemed to be that they had found the stoner room.

“Dina! Dina’s back!!” a sweet and drunk voice filled the room as the door closed behind their backs. Abby’s eyes met a dark haired girl on one of the sofas, cup in hand and a tipsy smile on her face.

Dina chuckled before going towards the drunk girl, who wrapped her arms around her, pulling her so hard down and against her that almost made her fall. “Lily!” she whined when her face was filled of little kisses, what made Ellie laugh.

Abby looked a little bit shocked when the two of them started kissing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you… Dina is gay. She’s dating Lily too.” Abby seemed amused by her reaction, which quickly faded. Was she surprised? Yeah, she was surely not expecting it. In her church everyone was so… straight. Was she disgusted? Absolutely not. She didn’t see any wrong in any kind of love. It was not ‘conventional’, as people would say, but it was still love and Abby was nobody to tell anyone what to or not to do. Also, she knew her best friend liked girls, and she didn’t love her any less for it.

“Thank god. She wouldn’t stop whining about how much she missed you, almost choked her to sleep for a moment there.” your amused voice chuckled beside her. When Abby’s eyes wondered towards the origin of the sound, she met a really pretty girl. Gorgeous even. Stealing breath away kind of pretty girl. You were dressed on a really tight and short red dress and black high heels. From her position she could see that your lips and eyes were of the same red color of your dress, the first due to a beautiful lipstick and the other probably for the blunt that stood in between your fingers. There was a hazed look on your face, and a soft smile tugging on your lips. Your hair flared a little bit as you turned to face the two best friends by the door. Abby felt like she couldn’t breath. Maybe due to the smoke inside the room… She thought. “Well I’ll be damned… Is that Ellie Williams?” your red eyes squinted a little bit, trying to focus on the auburn haired girl beside her, who shrugged as she stepped further into the room.

“What can I say? I’m famous amongst the ladies.” that made you laugh. And the sound of it was almost angelic. Abby’s heart tightened on her chest, your smile warming her up and making her feel all fuzzy inside. She was completely whipped. “Looking good y/n, been a long time since I last saw you.”

‘y/n’ So that’s who they had been talking about before… y/n, y/n… Even your name was pretty.

“Too long I’d say. Missed your weed. It is the best I’ve ever had.” she pressed a hand to her chest, honored. “And who is pretty girl over there?” Abby felt like fainting when your eyes met her body, lips around the blunt, sucking a new hit that left your throat burning up as the smoke filled your lungs.

“This…” Ellie pulled her by her arm, closer to you and the other two girls, strong enough to have her adjusting her crooked glasses. “Is Abby. Abby Anderson. My girl.” a smile crept on her lips when she recognized that look in your eyes as you scanned her up and down. “And who you are absolutely not getting closer to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus. That fast you claiming a pretty thing like her?” you chuckled, shaking your head just to ignore her and focus on the brunette. “Nice to meet you Abby.” her name rolling on your tongue made her heart fall to the pitch of her stomach, fingers tingling and breath hitching. “I like your sweater.” she coughed, clearing her throat when one of your legs crossed over the other, chest sticking out and your back arched as you accommodated yourself on the sofa. Her eyes darted elsewhere as she awkwardly scratched her neck.

“Thank you.” she stuttered. “I like your…, dress.” that’s the first thing that came to mind and, as she realized what she had just spit out, the stupidest thing too.

You smirked, taking another hit to the blunt. “You do?” you looked down at it. “It’s a little bit uncomfortable though, too tight.” you teased, although she didn’t seemed to get it. Not as Ellie did, scoffing to bring your attention back to her. “You seem uncomfortable too standing over there, why don’t you come take a sit?” you patted the empty place beside you.

“This is Abby’s first party.” she said, eyebrows raising in caution. “Came straight from church studies.” she put extra emphasis to those last two words, which only made you smile harder and Ellie sigh. You were the devil in disguise.

“Oh… A church girl.” you smirked. “That’s why I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember a pretty face like yours.” you winked at her, and her whole body flushed, making you chuckle. Why was this happening to her? She’d never felt like this… Not even with Owen, who had been dating her for a couple of weeks before she told him she couldn’t keep doing it. She didn’t love him. She wasn’t sure she even liked him. She couldn’t even bring herself to kiss him. And now you were making her blush that easily? Making butterflies come up her stomach?

“You. Stop it.” Ellie pointed at you with squinted eyes, making you rise your hands in a peace offering, faking innocence.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, you know what you are doing.” you tilted your head a little bit, smirk returning.

“Yeah I do…” you chucked, just to sigh afterwards. “Fine. I’ll be good.” you gave in. “But still, sit your ass here and give me something good, will you?”

Ellie smiled, quickly sitting down in one of the single sofas beside you. “Yes ma’am.” she teased you as she extracted from one of her front pockets a little plastic bag full of a shiny white powder. “Is this good enough?” she inquired and you only smiled, teasingly answering.

“This will do.” she laughed, watching you take a peek at the drug, shaking it in between your fingers a little bit. “You. Pretty girl.” you called for Abby, who had never stopped staring at you and got startled by your sudden attention. “Lend me your bible, will you?” she quickly pushed one of her hands on her front pocket, pulling out a pocket mini bible from it before walking towards you to hand it to you. Her eyes widened when you pulled her from her arm so she would sit down beside you, fingers lingering on her own as you took her bible from her hand. “Thanks.” you whispered, eyes on her own as you opened it to find just what you were looking for: a picture of Jesus.

You took it out and pushed the bible on top of the tea table before spreading the white powder on top of it, using the photo to spread it in thin and large lines. She was stunned, and Ellie was just too amused to stop you, finding it funny the fact that you were using something ‘holy’ to deal with something that was not.

“Amen.” you muttered before bowing down and pressing your nose to the bible, sniffing the whole line in a go. When you pulled back up and against the sofa, Abby saw the remains of the power on your nose. And even if she knew that she wouldn’t think it, she still found you unbelievably beautiful. “What is it pretty girl? Want to give it a try?” she quickly shook his head.

“No! I think that would be…, a sin.” that only made Ellie, the girls and you laugh. She looked so scared you almost felt bad.

“Come on, you’re not gonna tell me that you’ve never sinned, are you now?” she remained silent, making you frown. “Really?” Ellie chuckled beside you.

“Abby is a fucking saint. Never drank, never kissed… Never fucked.” Abby’s cheeks flushed red as she gave Ellie a death stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” your eyes were wide open. Well, as far as they’d go. You were starting to feel all fuzzy and tingly due to the coke and weed in your system. “A fucking virgin… And you are friends with Ellie Williams… Isn’t that funny?” the green eyed seemed hurt, mouth falling open. “With all respect, you are a whore.” her mouth only fell further open, what made you laugh. “You have at least rubbed one out, right?” once again she remained silent, eyes elsewhere and bottom lip in between her teeth. “Right?”

Ellie seemed interested too, as well as Dina and Lily.

“I can’t believe it.” you whispered when she didn’t correct you. Ellie was just as shocked.

“Oh my god…” Dina muttered.

In eighteen years. Not even a little rubbing?

“Jesus…” they all sighed at the same time, and Abby’s cheeks only reddened even more.

“Committing adultery is a sin, alright?” she groaned, too overwhelmed by the attention that was being poured on her. She felt like running away.

“You know what’s a real sin, Abby?” you said, making her stare at you. “Not having an orgasm ever. That’s a fucking sin.” she felt even the tips of her ears redden.

“I’ve—“

“Man, I know you and your father has always been super religious, but you don’t always have to follow some rules that were written centuries ago. If that makes you happy then that’s okay, but aren’t there a lot of things you’ve wanted to do that you couldn’t do due to that goddamn bible?” Ellie inquired, to what Abby nodded.

“I mean ye—“

“Then fuck it!” Dina said, snuggling closer her drunk girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. “Do whatever you want.”

“I can’t…”

“Oh yes you can, and you are gonna do it.” you smiled. “You can always ask for forgiveness, you know? Cry up a little bit at church tomorrow afternoon and say that some evil spirit got a hold on you or some shit like that. You wouldn’t be the first miscarried little sheep around here.” she stiffened when your hand fell on her knee, thumbs rubbing imaginary circles on her skin. She gulped, eyes on your pretty hand before you would lean in and grab her attention once again. “So…, what is it that you wanna do, pretty girl?” she was wicked. Under the spell of your gorgeous smile, reddened eyes and haunting face.

Your smile only grew more when her eyes fell to your red lips…

“Eyes up here, Abby.” you muttered, pointing to your eyes and making the rest of the group chuckle. Ellie sighed, knowing it was probably too late for Abby. You had that power of making people lose themselves into you. And Abby was absolutely lost.

“I… I don’t know…”

“Okay…” you hummed. “Why don’t we start off with something soft, hm?” you offered, and the brunette was the first to catch on, offering you a bottle of tequila that stood on the tea table along with a shot glass.

You poured just the perfect amount into it, grabbing another one for yourself along with limes and salt before leaving the bottle where it belonged.

“Okay. This is a shot of tequila. Of course, you could just give it a go dry, but I like to make it more interesting with this.” You pointed at the lime. She was the one who seemed interested now. “I’ll show you how to have one, then it’s your turn alright?” she nodded and you smiled as you poured a pinch of salt on the back of your palm. That twisting feeling in her stomach returned when your tongue slid through your palm and the the salt, all while keeping your eyes on her own. After that, the alcohol went down your throat as you bent your head slightly backwards, pouring after that the lime as your teeth sank in it. Your face scrunched up due to the sourness of it all, but still the people around you cheered for you as you slammed the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, smiling. “Did you get it?” you inquired the blonde, whose eyes seemed eager on you, probably due to the rush of adrenaline that went through her veins at the thought of trying something new and exciting. “Then go ahead pretty girl.” you poured salt once again on the back of your palm, handing it to her with a smirk. Her cheeks grew red at your actions, but despite that, she took a deep breath and dove in. All of you seemed surprised by her decisiveness. Your breath hitched when you felt her warm tongue on your skin, licking it clean of the salt before pulling away, and without giving it much thought —since she knew that if she did she’d repent— poured the liquor in her mouth, almost gagging as the tequila hit her tongue, what made her nose scrunch. The turn on her stomach and the burning of her throat was a new feeling, maybe not the best, but it was something new. And that excited her. She knew that drinking was not something forbidden, she had just been too scared of her dad’s disappointment if she ever tried it, so she never did. “So?” everyone stared at her, expecting to know her thought about her first time dealing with alcohol.

Abby coughed, squinting a little bit as her hoarse voice broke the silence. “It burns.”

All of you bursted out in laughter, she could have said anything, and yet she went with the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, it usually does.” Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “That’s the fun of it. Trying to see how much of it you can handle before passing out.” Abby seemed confused as she frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very amusing.”

“Oh, that’s because you aren’t mixing it with anything else...” you smiled. “Actually, you could use a little bit of weed.” Ellie was quick to pull a little bag from her pockets with a bright smile. Once on your fingers and opened, you groaned at the strong and sour smell. “Fuck, I’d eat you out right now if there weren’t so many people here.” Ellie chuckled at your words, and Abby only blushed, taken back by your language. There was a burn in her stomach that pleaded her to make you let out more of those little sounds out of your mouth. And maybe she should be scared, of feeling all of this for a girl. But somehow she wasn’t. She just needed to learn more. Know more. Feel more.

“I don’t think that…” she started, but you only looked at her and she was a goner, the words dying in her throat. Her best friend seemed pretty entertained by the situation. Abby the saint Anderson was finally giving in to having some fun, and it was all because of you. She didn’t know if she should be happy about it or be absolutely jealous.

On the other hand, Abby was absolutely haunted, haunted by your fingers dealing with the drug, rolling up the blunt and your tongue sneaking in between your lips to lick it seal. She felt that tingling on her pussy, although she tried to soothe it off by going over the Genesis.

“Done.“ you smiled, and Dina handed you her lighter so you could light the blunt up.

Abby looked closely as your lips wrapped around the joint and how your cheeks hollowed as you took a hit. You let out a pleased sigh when the smoke filled your lungs. “Fuck.” you loved it. The high, the dizziness, the numbing of your limbs. “Williams, let me marry you. I’ll make a good wife, I promise.” she let out a laughter as she reached out for the blunt, which you obviously handed her.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know I love you, but you’d be too much for me to handle.” you fakely pouted when the blunt was back on your hands.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyways.” you shrugged, taking another hit with a playful smile. “You are not my type...” Abby’s breath hitched when your eyes found hers. “What do you say pretty girl? Are you in?” you offered her the blunt, and after a little hesitation, her fingers stole it from yours. You noticed that she had beautiful hands, soft, with large and thick fingers that would surely look better pushing inside your…

“How should I…?” she seemed scared of it, holding it away from her as if it were a deadly weapon. And maybe it was.

“Right. A saint. Probably haven’t even smoked a cigarette.” you said, scooting closed to her ‘till your thigh was flushed against hers, fingers around her wrist to guide the joint to her lips. She felt her heart skip a beat when her eyes fell to your chest, which stood dangerously close to her own. “Okay. So you put it on your lips and then you suck, but don’t just leave the smoke in your mouth, it has to fill your lungs, so as you suck you need to inhale as deep as you can. If your throat burns, then that means you are doing it okay.” she was following your words and doing as you told her. “But don’t do it too hard or you’ll…” but maybe she was going too fast, since she started to choke on the smoke. “Choke.” you were quick to give her back pats.

“Are you okay?” Lily inquired her, handing her a cup of alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t the best option to go for, since alcohol and weed actually were a strong combination for a beginner, but it was the only thing around.

“Aw she’s fine…” Dina laughed. “You aren’t a beginner if you don’t choke on your first hit.”

“On god.” Ellie teasingly said, sending a kiss to the sky.

She shivered when your fingers dug in her hair, comforting her as her coughing ceased. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” she nodded, too lost on the feeling of your touch. “Wanna try again?” she looked at you as if you were crazy, what made you let out a laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, here, let me help you.” you urged her, taking the blunt from her hand and raising it to your lips to take a deep hit. Her breath hitched when the hand that stood in her hair pushed her near your face. Her eyes widened and her pulse spiked up when your breath hit her own, the weed and alcohol on it making her feel dizzy. Or maybe the fact that your lips were mere inches away from hers was. She really couldn’t know.

Neither of you noticed the way your friends were staring at the two of you.

The hand that held the joint went to her cheek, thumb pressing against her bottom lip as you pulled from it. “Open.” she was quick to do what you’ve asked her to. “Now breathe in for me, will you?” she nodded, and as you blew the smoke on her lips, she took it in. The burning was still there, in the back of her throat, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the first time. You pulled away with a satisfied smile on your lips, seeing her hold her breath as much as she could —like she had seen you do—. “Good girl.” she almost whined at you words, not understanding why they had had such a great impact on her. There was something in the way you’ve said it that made her shake in your hands. “Now, that wasn’t that bad, was it?” she shook her head, fighting the urge to lean on your touch, on the fingers that now massaged her scalp after a third hit from your lips.

“Woah, are we… Interrupting something here?” Dina was the first to break the silence, making Lily and Ellie laugh.

“The room suddenly feels too hot…” the auburn haired said, fanning her face and making your eyes practically send her daggers. “Just saying…” she rose her hands in surrender.

Abby was feeling her limbs tingle as the clock ticked, eyelids heavy and and mind fuzzy. You seemed to notice. “You okay, pretty girl?” she looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Feels amazing.” she muttered, and all of you laughed at her reaction.

“Ellie, I think we’ve just created a monster.” you mocked her, but she just seemed happy to see her best friend so relaxed, and having fun.

She was about to answer you, but suddenly the girls that had asked her about having some crystal before peeked through the closed door. She understood what they had come looking for just by taking a look at them. She tapped the arms of the sofa before standing up, grabbing the attention of the group.

“Ladies, I need to go and make some business.” she announced with a smirk. “Do you mind if I leave Abby with you for a little bit?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you could Lily and Dina were standing up.

“Yeah, we’re gonna— Lily needs to— Bathroom.” she simply said before she could grab the curly haired’s hand, her lips on her neck as they left the room, Ellie right behind.

It was then when you realized that only you and Abby were left behind. Alone. She seemed to realize too, since her body seemed to stiffen up

“Well, I guess we’re alone now, pretty girl.” you said, taking another hit of the blunt. You were probably overdoing it already, but you knew you could handle it. She nodded, trying not to show the way her hands were shaking. It was a really strange combination of feelings really: She was high. She was excited about her first party. She was nervous about being near someone as pretty as you… “What are you thinking about, hm? What’s going on inside that little head of yours?” Oh, and she was completely caught up in the way that your fingers kept brushing though her hair, in the way your eyes never left her.

“Nothing.” she sputtered out, what made you smile. You scooted a little bit closer, getting on your side so you could face her.

“Tell me, Abby…” you started. “What other things are there that you would like to do?” you bit your bottom lip, the fingers on her hair sliding down to her neck, where you connected the moles on her skin. Her eyes were on your red lips, on your chest, on your thighs… God, she felt impure.

“I… Uhm…” you decided to give her a little extra push, your chest almost brushing against hers as you leaned in, blowing the smoke on her face. She was taken aback, feeling the heat of your body against her making her pussy throb on her pants. She looked away from you, cheeks red and mind fuzzy, although her eyes found their way back to you when your palm pressed against her cheek, leading her back to you.

“Where are you looking at, hm? Eyes on me, Abby…” you muttered, your breath colliding with her own as you leaned in. “How pretty…” you muttered, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, pulling, getting a shaky breath as an answer. “Such a pretty face and yet no one has ever kissed you before? What a waste…” You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the way the blonde stared at you, expecting doe eyes, lingering blue shining above the red… “Such a pretty pretty girl.” she whined as your lips brushed against hers, teasing her, pulling her in to the sin she had learned to avoid. The sin she had made herself avoid.

“y/n…” she let out a short breath, hoarse voice only a whisper as she leaned in ever further, trying to pursue the plump of your lips and the electrifying feeling that shook her body anytime you were near.

“What is it, hm?” you smirked, and she whined when you pulled from her hair to keep her from getting any closer. “Want me to kiss you Abby?” you inquired. You liked the girl, you wanted the girl, and you were selfish about what you wanted, but you were no monster.

She nodded, tongue sneaking in between her lips to dampen them before they’d fall apart in a plead. “Please…”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head and making her cry out. “Nuh-uh… You can do better than that, baby. Use your words. Let me hear you ask for it.” she whimpered, eyes on your red lips as her own cheeks flushed, probably due to embarrassment, or the alcohol that travelled through her veins, or the fact that she wanted it, you, so bad she felt like dying…

“Please, kiss me…” she whispered, almost inaudible under the music playing from the party. “Please…” and when her eyes met yours, when you saw that linger in the blue of them, the need… You were quick to pull her in, leaving the blunt aside as your lips met hers. God, you’d been wanting to do that since she had stepped in the room. Your core ached when she moaned in your mouth, her hands shaking at her sides as her eyes squeezed shut, what made you laugh as you pulled away, shaking your head. You quickly threw one of your legs over her lap, straddling her muscled thighs and making her eyes widen, muscles incredible stiff below you. “Come on, Abby, why don’t you relax on me a little?” you left a couple of wet kisses on her neck, making her sigh under your touch and letting your hands guide hers to your ass. “You can touch me, I don’t bite.” you amusedly said, teasing her before you would lean in once again to meet her lips, nor before a “Unless you want me to…” she was shaking when you kissed her again, breath hitching and a moan leaving her lips when you started to rock your hips against her. She was already wet. So wet… “Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you muttered against her mouth, your thumb pulling on her bottom lip. She did as you said, what made you smile. “Yeah, just like that, good girl…” she moaned when your tongue slid right inside her mouth, swirling around hers. Her fingers dug on your ass, making you hum into the kiss as you pulled on her hair. Her jaw fell slack as you ground a little bit harder against the crotch of her pants and against her aching cunt, which throbbed.

When you pulled away, her glasses had fogged up due to your wet kisses.

“y/n…” she whimpered as your lips trailed down her throat, harshly sucking hickeys on her skin and hands bucking you against her. She felt dizzy, high in a drug under your name, delirious even. This felt so good, you on top of her, dry humping her, kissing her… She never wanted it to stop.

“Shit… That’s it.” you said, getting off her lap —hearing a whine fall from her lips— and pulling from her hand so she could get up. “Let’s go.” you were fast to leave the stoner room and start to drag her upstairs, getting her in in the first empty room you could find and locking the door behind your back before you’d kiss her again. Seeing your lipstick all smeared on her lips made you want to devour her.

She opened her mouth for you, just like you had taught her, stumbling backwards in between groans as you led her towards the bed. She let out a surprised gasp when you pushed her on the chest, making her sit down. “What… What are you doing?” she inquired you as you kneeled in front of her, breathing strained and lips swollen. Her blonde hair was all messed up, as well as her clothes, and her pussy hurt so much under her pants she couldn’t help but wish you were back kissing her, rubbing against her and making it better. She was high, and needy, and the sight of you down on your knees with your hands brushing her thighs was absolutely not making the pain go away any time soon.

“Praying.” you smiled at her as you unbuckled her pants and pushed them down her thighs along with her underwear, your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“W-Wait!” she tried to stop you, overwhelmed by being so exposed in front of you, but all that embarrassment left her mind when you pushed her legs apart and left a little peck on her clit. Her pussy was pretty, blonde mound and pinkish dripping folds soaked for you. You smiled when she let out a load moan at the fat strip you made up her pussy, taking in all her slick, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing at her moans and whines.

“Such a pretty girl with a pretty pussy...” she whimpered when you licked clean her arousal off her slit. “Does that feel good, hm? Like my tongue?” she nodded, eyes squeezed shut when you gave it a long stripe from her hole to her clit before sucking it inside your mouth. You moaned against her, ‘cause she tasted so good… And you wanted to fuck your face on her pussy so bad that it had you thrusting your hips down on your heels to look for some relief.

“Oh, God… Ohgodohgodohgod…” you chuckled as you let her go with a pop, spitting on your hand before your fingers would circle her entrance, making her thighs clench and a moan leave her lips.

“No God here, baby, ‘s just me.” she whimpered when your mouth went back to her, slowly pushing one finger into her tight walls. Her fingers unconsciously laced on your hair, making you hum against her clit and her whine. She felt like chocking with her spit. She has never felt something like this. How could this feel so good? This was supposed to be a sin. She was supposed to be taken away by Satan to hell and burn for the eternity. And yet there she was, feeling like stepping in Heaven.

She seemed extremely sensitive on her clit, where you teased her with your tongue, making her moan and whimper as you curled your finger against her g spot. There was this pressure, this heat building up in her lower stomach that made her head feel all fuzzy and her limbs weak as you pushed your ring finger inside.

“y/n…” she whined, her pussy throbbing around your fingers and fully leaking. You could feel she was about to cum, and its speed and her poor stamina only made her cuter.

“Poor baby… Is it too much? Is my mouth too much for you, hm? Want me to stop?” you inquired her, entertained by her slack jaw and glossed over eyes. She was gone. Completely dumbified. You’d love to see how she’d react once she was thrusting against you, maybe fucking into you with a fake cock… You were dripping down your thighs at the thought of it.

She shook her head, the hand on your hair only tightening. “No! Please, don’t stop, please? Pleasepleaseplease…” she begged, moaning loudly when you went back to fucking her g spot. “Feels so good, so good, please…” she was a babbling mess, unable to think, desperate to reach something that she was stumbling towards, something new, something unknown…

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my mouth? Gonna give me your first orgasm, hm?” her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she saw you stuck your tongue out, drool falling onto her pussy and clit and connecting it to your mouth through a string of spit. She was sure that you were a succubus, a devil in disguise that had come to haunt her and led her away from God. And honestly? She’d let you do it. ‘Cause just how beautiful you looked with her clit in your mouth, the sight of your glossed and red eyes staring up at her as you sucked her clean with all your red lipstick smeared all over her pussy and folds… Fuck. Simply… Fuck. She was so close to reaching that feverish feeling that had her shaking on her spot that she started to moan and whimper more loudly.

“Please, please, please…” she didn’t even know what she was begging for, her strained pleading making you start to lap at her faster, sucking on her clit harder. “Oh god, something’s gonna… I’m gonna…” she was a whimpering mess, eyes watering to the overwhelming sensation of her first orgasm, which was about to crumble her to pieces.

“Come on pretty girl, let go for me. Let me have it, hm? Let me taste you.” you said before kitten licking her clit, fucking her with your fingers. That’s all it took for her to fill your mouth up. Her orgasm hit her like a wave. So hard she was gasping for air, as if she were drowning under water. Her sight went completely white, mind blank and ears ringing as her body relaxed under your touch. When she came back from it, you were cleaning her up with your tongue, swallowing her warm cum and caressing her thighs in comfort. You hummed at the taste, sucking your fingers clean. “You okay, baby?” you inquired her as her eyes fluttered open, glossy and teary, pupils fully blown. She shivered when your lips latched to the skin of her hip bone, sucking hardly enough to leave a bruise, making her fingers lace harder in your hair.

“y/n…” she whimpered, feeling how your lips slowly trailed up her lower stomach, your hands getting rid of the buttons of her shirt as you sat back down on her lap. You were starting to believe it to be your favorite seat ever.

“Did that felt good baby?” you smirked, loving the fucked out look on her face and her dizzy nodding. “Look at you, so fucked out you can’t even speak. You liked cumming in my mouth, huh?” you teased her, making her moan as your hands sneaked up her unbuttoned shirt. “Want a taste?” you whispered on her ear, nibbling on her jaw and making her gasp, her pussy was already getting wet again. So eager… “Open up for me.” you whispered against her lips when she nodded. And she did. In a heartbeat.

Your tongue was quick to push inside her mouth, both of your moaning in the kiss as your hips rocked harder against her own. She was shaking when you pushed her hands from your waist to your breasts, she groaned when you squeezed hers to make a domino effect and urge her to touch you just how she wanted. “Tell me Abby, what is it that you want?” you inquired her as your breaths mixed, sucking on her bottom lip. Her eyes squeezed shut when you went back to sucking on her neck. “What do you want to do now?”

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” she breathed out, glossy brown eyes full of lust when staring into your own. She wanted to make you feel the way you had made her feel, better, if that could be possible…

You smiled at her words. “Oh yeah?” you bit your bottom lip brushing her messy hair backwards and playfully tugging on it, making her take a shaky breath as she nodded. “You wanna make me feel good, Abby?” her skin grew on goosebumps when you guided one of her hands down your body, ‘till her fingertips got lost underneath your dress and in between your legs. You moaned when her palm cupped your clothed cunt. She felt her heart skip a beat when you started to rock your hips against it. “Gonna let me teach you?” she nodded once again as you pushed your dress over your head, tongue coming out to lick her lips, eager to pull out of you more of those beautiful sounds. “Good girl…” you couldn’t know if she had moaned due to the amount of beautiful and flushed skin on display just for her or for your praise, but, at the moment, it truly didn’t matter, not when she stared at you like that.

She felt like fainting when she felt you, underneath the lace of your panties, her fingertips against your soaked cunt, so soaked you dripped on her fingers. “There.” you whined when you pushed her hand upwards, ‘till her fingertips bumped against that little bundle of nerves that could make you cum over and over again with just a little bit of stimulation. “Fuck, move your fingers around it, baby.” you instructed, moaning when she did, what only made her crave you more. “Yeah just like that.” you rocked your hips against her touch, pressing open mouthed kisses on her chest. “Now use your fingers. Inside.” you muttered on her neck when you pushed her hand down towards your hole. “Inside, please.”

Abby was lost. Lost in the new experience, in the new knowledge, but most of all, lost in the way your eyebrows knitted together when she first touched you under your underwear, or the way your mouth was falling open now that one of her fingers was fully inside of you, up to the knuckle. And Abby knew she was a goner when she found herself swearing. And she didn’t fucking swore. “Fuck.”

You were clamping around her finger when you pulled her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around each other as she started to pump in and out of you, making you moan and push on her touch. “Another one. Put in another one, please Abby.” you gasped out, and she followed, willing to do anything for you, anything as well as you kept moaning, and kissing her, and begging her for more, and… “Fuck, just like that…” you cried out.

Her pussy was throbbing like crazy, leaking in between her thighs as she took in just how… Heavenly you looked. On your black lace underwear, smeared red lipstick, messy hair, glossy eyes… You looked like an angel, no, like a god.

A god she would die to worship.

And she surely felt like cumming when her fingers slightly curved and hit that spot inside you that pulled out a whimper from your mouth. She wanted more. More of you falling apart. So she curved them once again, and again, and… But before she could know it, she found herself being pushed and laying on her back. “Wh—What?” she tried and ask. Had she done something wrong? If she had… But her voice died out when you were taking off your bra, and she felt like choking. They were perfect — it’s not like she had ever seen tits before, but if she had she would have thought the same—. They looked so soft… And your nipples, erect from lust… She just wanted to suck and bite on them.

She moaned when you rocked against her hips, the lace of your panties rubbing against her thigh. “y/n… Shit.” she could feel the dampness on the cloth, the heartbeat of your pussy against her.

“Too much, pretty girl?” you smirked, grabbing her wrists to lead her hands towards your breasts. Her big hands made you sigh when her fingers felt the plump of them, thumbs rolling your nipples…

“y/n…” she breathed out when you leaned in to kiss her neck and chest over her bra, marking her all up as she whimpered below you, loosing herself on the way your hips thrusted against her, your lips on her skin, your warm own in between her fingers… On the way your bare cunt felt against her skin once you’ve gotten rid of your panties, slick coating her skin as you slid against her. The two of you moaned before you could find yourself to hum in answer, eyes meeting her glossy and dazed ones. “More…” she whimpered, needing more, more of you. She noticed the hesitation in your eyes before her lips parted once again, “Please…” her hips thrusting upwards against your core, making you groan.

“So pretty begging…” you muttered before kissing her so deep and wet that she was left shivering.“You want to fuck me, hm? Want to fuck me, Abby?” you teased, pressing down against her and making her moan as she nodded. You moved in between her thighs sliding your fingers in between her lips.

“Yes, yes, yes… Pleasepleaseplease… Can I fuck you? Please, y/n, oh please. Let me fuck you, please…” tears swelled her eyes at the feeling of your pussy lining up with hers, mound barely touching, pressing down, teasing her with every false thrust of your hips. She needed to make you cum, needed you…

“How can I say no if you ask so nicely, hm?” you whispered against her lips before you’d push one of your thighs on her lap to push yourself against her, moaning at the feeling. It felt so painfully good you found yourself sinking your nails on her abs, moaning. “Shit, so wet…”

“Fuck.” she breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you felt so warm, so wet… Her fingers dug on your hips to keep you still when your clits met. By the way she was throbbing against you and how her breath sounded strained, you knew she was trying her best to not cum. So you waited it out, both of you did. A moan left her lips when your started to slightly grind against her, you biting down on your lip as she whimpered. “y/n…”

You slowly rose ‘till only your lips touched before slamming your hips back down onto her heat, moaning when your clits met and hearing her groan. “You like that, pretty girl? Your virgin pussy seems to, dripping like crazy for me.” you teased her, chuckling slightly when she nodded —too pussy drunk already— before starting to fuck yourself against her like the two of you needed.

And as your pace quickened, the more moans, pants and whines left both your lips.

“Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgi—“ she was a babbling mess as she watched you thrust against her sopping cunt —incoherent, moaning and whimpering, words becoming lost—, the sound of your juices filling the room along with the slapping of sweaty skin. You chuckled at her messed up appearance and crooked glasses.

“He can’t listen to you now, baby. Your moans suffocate it.” you smirked when she let out a whimper as you fucked her harder, kissing her neck and biting down on the skin. It was all so overwhelming… Your velvet lips leaving red stains all over her body, the prettiest tits bouncing up and down with every thrust, your soft moans and sighs of pleasure against her ear, the way you ground your puffy clit on hers, the way your warm and soaked pussy slid against hers… It was too much, too much that the blonde could feel tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks.

It surely was too much, but at the same time not enough.

She whined when you pushed yourself up and away, flopping on your elbows in front of her under her confused gaze. You gave her a playful smile before parting your legs, letting your pulsing wet hole show only for her. Her dilated pupils latched onto it, not letting go as one of your hands came to it to spread your sticky lips. She felt her mouth water, gulping loudly. “Why don’t you come fuck me like you’ve been wanting since this afternoon, hm? Don’t need to be a good girl with me, Abby.” she was quick to sit up and crawl her way over to you, enchanted by your sweet voice as if some enchantment had fogged her mind. She was even quicker to discard her glasses aside, unable to see no longer through the glass.

You gasped for air when she pushed in between your legs, and before you knew it, he was pushing her pussy against you in a quick and harsh thrust, making you grip and sink your nails on her broad shoulder blades as she started to relentlessly fuck you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you moaned on her ear. “That’s it, shit.” you cursed in between heavy breaths, hearing her grunt.

She was hard, fast and needy, now being you the mumbling mess as you tugged on her hair and her lips sucked on your tits, biting your nipples and bruising the skin of your neck and chest, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere, kneading your soft skin as she moaned against it. “Fuck Abby, that’s it, baby…” your body was buried and shook on the sheets with every new thrust, sliding up and down the duvet. She was fucking the brains out of you.

You gasped for air when one of her hands gripped your neck, pinning you to the bed as her hips harshly clashed against yours. You smirked when she groaned at your wetness, the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers. “I knew you had it in you. Not that of a good girl anymore, huh?” she whined when your fingers tugged harder on her hair, hips staggering at the pleasure as her eyes squeezed shut. She was in a daze. “You like that pretty girl?” you teased, moaning when her grip around your neck tightened and she gave you a extremely harsh thrust that pressed just on the right spot, making your thighs shake and a needy and loud moan leave your lips, crying out for her to fuck you harder, to fuck you just like that.

You could feel the coil on your lower stomach, every new hit on your clit making you get closer and closer to that high and making your walls clench. “Shit, y/n…” her lips parted in a whimper, her hand leaving your neck to take a hold on your hips and seek more of those pretty moans of yours… She dragged you against her pussy with every push of her hips, pulling from you to reach your highs.

“Abby i’m close, fuck, i’m so close baby, gonna cum all over your pussy, shit.” you were choking on your words.

Your moans got muffled when she kissed you, her tongue pushing inside your mouth as her thrusts lost their rhythm, too close to cumming on your sopping cunt. “y/n, y/n, y/n…” she could feel yourself throbbing against her, your orgasm approaching right beside hers. She wouldn’t last, you knew that. “fuck, ah, y/n I’m gonna…, I’m—“

One of your hands came up to her face, your thumb pressing against her bottom lip as she rested her forehead against yours, her breath fanning over your face. “Cum on me, please Abby, please…” you breathed out, eager, begging, gone. Her eyebrows knitted together as her lips fell on a moan, pussy throbbing as she thrusted against you one, two, three more times before painting your folds in white, making you moan at the feeling. Droplets of her cum were falling on your thighs and the sheets every new thrust, whimpering due to the stimulation but still eager to make you come, to make you feel good.

“Oh shitshitshitshit…” you muttered, your hips following hers as you felt yourself seconds away from your own release.

“Cum for me, y/n, please? Please, y/n, please…” she begged, driving you over the edge and making you cum so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

She groaned when she felt your cum mixing with her own, coating her pussy.

The two of you stayed still as you came down from your highs. You were sticky with cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away, and she didn’t seem to despise the idea of holding you for a little longer.

Now Abby understood. She finally understood how even a creature as perfect as Lucifer couldn’t had helped falling to the deep depths of hell. All it took was the perfect sin, the perfect poison.

And Abby was sure to had found hers in you.

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69balcony · 1 year

Text

Larry Kramer Speech at Cooper Union

“The Tragedy of Today’s Gays”

November 21, 2004

I think this has been the most difficult speech I have ever had to write and to deliver. It is a long speech. I pray you will bear with me until its end.

It is an attempt to give you some idea of who and what we are up against. It is also an attempt to discuss our ability to deal with these.

I recently learned about two dear friends, both exceptionally smart and talented and each in his own way a leader of our community. One, in his middle age, has sero-converted. The other, in his middle-age, has become hooked on crystal meth. Both of them are here with us tonight.

I love being gay. I love gay people. I think we’re better than other people. I really do. I think we’re smarter and more talented and more aware and I do, I do, I totally do. And I think we’re more tuned in to what’s happening, tuned into the moment, tuned into our emotions, and other people’s emotions, and we’re better friends. I really do think all these things.

To us it defies rational analysis that this incompetent dishonest man and his party should be re-elected. Or does it?

I hope we all realize that, as of November 2nd, gay rights are officially dead. And that from here on we are going to be led even closer to the guillotine. This past week almost 60 million of our so-called “fellow” Americans voted against us. Indeed 23% of self-identified gay people voted against us, too. That one I can’t figure.

The absoluteness of what has happened is terrifying. On the gay marriage initiatives alone: 2.6 million against us in Michigan. 3.2 million in Ohio. 1.1 million in Oklahoma, 2.2 million in Georgia. 1.2 million in Kentucky. George Bush won his Presidency of our country by selling our futures. Almost 60 million people whom we live and work with every day think we are immoral. “Moral values” was top of many lists of why people supported George Bush. Not Iraq. Not the economy. Not terrorism. “Moral values.” In case you need a translation that means us. It is hard to stand up to so much hate. Which of course is just the way they want it. Please know that a huge portion of the population of the United States hates us. I don’t mean dislike. I mean hate. You may not choose to call it hate, but I do. Not only because they refuse us certain marital rights but because they have also elected a congress that is overflowing with men and women who refuse us just about every other right to exist as well. “Moral values” is really a misnomer; it means just the reverse. It means they think we are immoral. And that we’re dangerous and contaminated. How do you like being called immoral by some 60 million people? This is not just anti-gay. This is what Doug Ireland calls “homo hate” on the grandest scale. How do we stand up to 60 million people who have found a voice and a President who declares he has a mandate?

The new Supreme Court, due any moment now, will erase us from the slate of everything possible in no time at all. Gay marriage? Forget it. Gay anything, forget it. Civil rights for gays? Equal protection for gays. Adoption rights? The only thing we are going to get from now on is years of increasing and escalating hate. Surely you must know this. Laws and regulations that now protect us will be repealed and rewritten. Please know all this. With the arrival of this second term of these hateful people we come even closer to our extinction. We should have seen it coming. We are all smart people. How could we not have been prepared?

They have not exactly been making a secret of their hate. This last campaign has seen examples of daily hate on tv and in the media that I do not believe the world has witnessed since Nazi Germany. I have been reading Ambassador Dodd’s Diary; he was Roosevelt’s ambassador to Germany in the 30’s, and people are always popping in and out of his office proclaiming the most awful things out loud about Jews. It has been like that.

All Mary Cheney is is a lesbian! Even her mother is hateful! That Cheney must be one fucked-up kid to stick around that family. I hope she doesn’t want to teach school. One of the reelected Congress persons vows to make it illegal for lesbians to teach school.

I know many people look to me for answers. Perhaps that is why many of you are here. You want answers? We’re living in pigshit and its up to each one of us to figure out how to get out of it. You must know that by now. Crystal meth is not an answer. You must know that by now. And quite frankly statistically it is only happening to so few of us that it is hard to get anyone worked up about that problem. Just as it hard to get worked up about a middle-aged man with brains who sero-converts. You want to kill yourself. Go kill yourself. I’m sorry. It takes hard work to behave like an adult. It takes discipline. You want it to be simple. It isn’t simple. Yes it is. Grow up. Behave responsibly. Fight for your rights. Take care of yourself and each other. These are the answers. It takes courage to live. Are you living? Not so I can see it. Gay people are all but invisible to me now. I wish you weren’t. But you are. And I look real hard.

No one likes to be told to grow up. It’s insulting. But these are always the answers. They will always be the answers. The only answers. There will never be any other answers. Grow up. Behave responsibly. Fight for your rights. Take care of yourself and each other. Be proud of yourself. Be proud you are gay. I don’t know why so many find all this so complicated. But then I am 69 years old and have less patience for the many problems I had myself when young. It is one of the privileges of getting old.

It is 25 years since 100,000 of us marched on Washington.

The Aids service organizations are all about to collapse. No money. And the problem is too big to handle anymore. We have not slowed this thing down at all. $100 billion we’re spending on Iraq. This is a conscious choice by our “leaders” and by a large portion of the population of this country. They have in their infinite and never-ending cruelty decided this was the most effective thing to do with 100 billion dollars that might also end Aids, and a few other things like worldwide hunger. But the cabal doesn’t care about these. People say: well we can’t take care of the rest of the world. That is so stupid. The rest of the world is us. We are so intertwined geopolitically that we cannot separate ourselves off into parts, into sections. Those days are over. If they ever were here. We have everything required to save the world except the will to do it. In a recent New Yorker piece Michael Specter writes that because of Aids Russia is on its way to disappearing. Disappearing. Imagine that.

The immense knowledge we have learned about Aids has provided us with precious little more than that knowledge. HIV/AIDS is now the worst disaster in recorded human history. In parts of Africa 7000 people are infecting each other each and every day. We who are here are idiots if we think this fact is not going to alter our lives mightily. If your company loses enough world markets, which it most certainly will, you are going to lose your job. You will not have health insurance, for a start. And for a finish. Economies are simply going to collapse. This is already happening.

In 1990, that is some nine years into what was happening, 46% of gay men in San Francisco were still fucking without condoms.

60% of the syphilis in America today is in gay men. Excuse me, men who have sex with men.

Palm Springs has the highest number of syphilis cases in California. Palm Springs?

I do not want to hear each week how many more of you are becoming hooked on meth.

HIV infections are up as much as 40%.

You cannot continue to allow yourselves and each other to act and live like this!

One of these days the miraculous drugs we have to keep us alive are going to stop working. Our systems cannot process these extreme chemotherapies indefinitely. That is what we are on. We are on daily chemotherapy. No one wants to call it that. We call it the cocktail. We are on chemotherapy! Chemotherapy either kills the disease or kills us! What are we going to do when they don’t work any longer?

Some 70 million people so far are expected to die. “July 3, 1981, Rare cancer seen in 41 homosexuals.” When I first started yelling about whatever it was there were 41 cases. THERE ARE NOW OVER 70 MILLION WHO HAVE BEEN INFECTED WITH HIV. Somebody up there is really listening, don’t you think? There is no way that all infected people can be saved. No one ever says that out loud. Have you noticed? Somehow in some dream world we are going to get treatment into 70 million people. It is never going to happen. IT IS TOO LATE. We told them. But they didn’t do anything. Did you notice? Nobody every does anything. I hope it’s finally dawning on you that maybe they didn’t and don’t want to. So, in case you haven’t noticed, we have lost the war against Aids. I thought I’d tell you that, too. I hope you might have noticed. I can’t tell.

The President refuses to buy generic drugs for dying people. He is still saying he is waiting to hear if they are safe. These drugs have been approved. In some cases for several years. Does this sound like a President who wants to save anyone?

I do not understand why some of you believe that because we have drugs that deal with the virus more or less effectively that it is worth the gamble to have unprotected sex. These drugs are not easy to take. There are many side effects. Not life but certainly comfort threatening. I must allow at least one day out of every week or two to feel really shitty, to have no sleep, to be constipated, to have diarrhea, to require blood tests and monitoring at hospitals or in doctors’ offices, and to have the shakes. The shakes, which come often, are not useful with a mouse or reading a newspaper or with a lover in your arms. And I don’t enjoy eating anymore. Keeping on weight is a constant problem. I have dry mouth. I get up six or seven times a night to pee. Many of the meds we are now taking are new meds and were approved quickly and side effects have a sneaky way of showing up after FDA approval, not before. I recently discovered that I was taking an FDA approved dose of Viread that has turned out to be five times the amount I actually need. We are all probably taking too much or too little of every single one of our drugs. Doctors don’t want to test for this; tests are not readily available. You have to do a lot of homework yourselves on these drugs. Is a fuck without a condom worth not being able to taste food? Obviously for too many of you it is.

My lover often sits on top of me to make me eat. The first time this happened I was in the hospital just after my liver transplant and I wouldn’t eat and Dr. Fung said I had to eat, or else I would die, and I just couldn’t eat (do you know how strange this is to someone who was always on a diet?). It was New Year’s Eve. We were in beautiful downtown Pittsburgh. David had brought a hamper filled with my favorite dishes. And I could not eat anything. Furiously he crawled into bed with me, boots and all, and started to cry. “We haven’t come this far for you to die because you won’t eat,” he screamed, tears streaming down his face. I will never forget that. I will never forget this man I love so much in bed with me with his snowy boots on starting slowly to spoon into me whatever he’d made and I trying so desperately hard to swallow it, looking at him, this man I love so much, doing this for me, both of us now bawling our eyes out and hugging each other in this strange bed in this strange town, wondering how we got here.

It’s so wonderful being a gay person. I said that before. I’m going to say it again. I love being gay. And I love gay people. I think we’re better than other people. I really do. I think we’re smarter and more talented and more aware and I do, I do, I totally do. And I think we’re more tuned in to what’s happening, tuned into the moment, tuned into our emotions, and other people’s emotions, and we’re better friends. I really do think all of these things. And I try not to forget them.

Since the very first day of this plague we have been given, almost as if by some cosmic intentionality, American leaders who most assuredly wish us dead. There can no longer be any way to deny this fact. Each day brings more and more acts of hatred. Tell me it is not so. Tell me that the amount of good that is being attempted is not totally and intentionally overwhelmed by the evil. Point out to me how this is not so. I cannot see it. I have been unable to see it since July 3, 1981. I thought it was because it was a tricky virus. That is what we have been told. It’s a very tricky virus. I hoped for a while. But we are being played for chumps and it has been so since July 3, 1981. And we never saw it.

We of course continue to be in our usual state of total denial and disarray. Whatever structure the gay world had, if we ever had one, is gone. Our organizations stink. Almost every single one of them. I cannot think of one single gay organization that despite the best will in the world is now anything but worthless to us. Oh maybe one or two. We have no power. Nobody listens to us. We have no access to power. The cabal disdains us totally. We are completely disposable. It is a horror show. There is not one single person in Washington who will get us or give us anything but shit and more shit. I’m sorry. This is where we are now. Nowhere. And you expect me to cry for you if you get hooked on meth or can’t stop the circuit parties or the orgies. OK, I feel sorry for you. Does that change nything? I would say I feel sorry for myself, but I don’t. I know I am fighting as hard as I can. I may not be getting anywhere but I am trying. It’s exhausting and I have to do it every day, every single day, like taking my meds which if I stop I know my body will cease doing something or other. I have accidentally missed a few days of meds and boy do I know fast that was a mistake.

I fear for us as a people. Is that crazy? I am always being called crazy by somebody. I love being called crazy. That’s a sign to me that I’m on the right track. Maybe it takes a crazy person to see into the future and see what’s coming. Straight people say “my how much progress gay people are making. Isn’t that Will and Grace wonderful.” If it’s so wonderful why am I scared to death? More and more I am filled with dread. That is my truth that I bring to you today. Larry is scared. Do you see what I see? I don’t think so. Most gay people I see appear to me to act as if they’re bored to death. Too much time on your hands, my mother would say. Hell, if you have time to get hooked on crystal and do your endless rounds of sex-seeking, you have too much time on your hands. Ah, you say, aren’t we to have a little fun? Can’t I get stoned and try barebacking one last time. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND! At this moment in our history, no, you cannot. Anyway, we had your fun and look what it got us into. And it is still getting us into. You kids want to die? Because that’s what I sometimes think. Well, then, die.

You cannot continue to allow yourselves and each other to act and live like this!

And by the way, when are you going to realize that for the rest of your lives, probably for the rest of life on earth, you are never going to be able to have sex with another person without a condom! Never! Every time you even so much as consider this I want you to hear my voice screaming like crazy in your ears. STOP! DON’T! NEVER! NO WAY, JOSE! Canadian scientists now warn that even partners who are both un-infected should practice safe sex. As I understand it, more and more new viruses and mutant viruses and partial viruses that are not understood are floating around. Are you ready for that one?

Does it ever occur to you how much you have been robbed by both your country and your behavior? America let the men who should have carved out a space for you in the social discourse, the development of your history and being, America let these men who should have been your role models die. So there is this big empty space in which you live. And you don’t know where to go or how to fill it in. This is not my original thought but Michael Brown’s of the NYU gay student organizations that helped to bring me here, who gave me this to think about. It is sad for a young gay person to feel this way.

I had people to follow and many of you have not. No baton was passed to you. In a way you must start everything over. You must invent a world from which you can move forward from. This is both an extraordinarily exciting challenge and a terrifying one, one that can just as easily leave you by the wayside as make a new man of you. I say man because it is gay men who appear to have the greatest difficulty, it seems to me, in moving forward, getting off their particular dime.

Many of you deny the horrors of what happened to your predecessors. That is something I do not understand. Every moral code I know of requires respect for the dead. I often hear that many of you don’t want to know about them or admit to them. You disdain anyone older who was there.

This is denial of a most destructive nature. You cannot move forward without accepting your past. I am going to say that again. We cannot move forward without accepting and understanding our past. We were as varied as you are. We were no different, really. We were very different from those who preceded us. We were the first free gay generation and we were murdered because of our freedom. And yes you were robbed of this freedom that for obvious reasons could not be passed on to you as your heritage. So instead of being understanding of all this, you condemn your predecessors to non-existence and flounder into a future that you seem unable to fashion into anything you can hold on to that gives you emotional sustenance. You refuse to be part of any community. But if you don’t have any community you have no political strength. You are too busy denying and disassociating to know that. You do not seem able, it seems to me, to fashion your future. To discover what you want. You don’t even ask what you want. You don’t even ask what you need. Your needs are as mighty as needs always have been, but you don’t ask what they are, which amazes me. How can you not have curiosity about your future as a gay person? Don’t you want to go anywhere? Do you want to stay where you are? That is too bad if you do because we are about to enter a place more monstrously worse. You can deny that, as you deny those of us who went before you, but just know that down this path of your numerous denials lies your own continued destruction, the continuing destruction of gay people as gay people, which this cabal of haters I shall shortly describe, and its supporters, which are legion, are intent on accomplishing with increasingly ruthless vengeance. If you do not fight back you will be murdered in ways just as hideous as the ways in which we got murdered.

Every single president since 1981 has denied our existence and denied the existence of AIDS. And we let them get away with it. Oh a few thousand of us fought for the drugs that we got but many millions of us did nothing and of course an enormous number of them died. They died because they lost their health along their journey of non-involvement and their lack of responsibility to their brothers and sisters. Instead of learning from this lesson, you are repeating it. And you are acting like this with your health intact, many of you, which strikes me as even more perverse than what your dead predecessors did to destroy themselves.

Does it occur to you that we brought this plague of aids upon ourselves? I know I am getting into dangerous waters here but it is time. With the cabal breathing even more murderously down our backs it is time. And you are still doing it. You are still murdering each other. Please stop with all the generalizations and avoidance excuses gays have used since the beginning to ditch this responsibility for this fact. From the very first moment we were told in 1981 that the suspected cause was a virus, gay men have refused to accept our responsibility for choosing not to listen, and, starting in 1984, when we were told it definitely was a virus, this behavior turned murderous. Make whatever excuses you can to carry on living in your state of denial but this is the fact of the matter. I wish we could understand and take some responsibility for the fact that for some 30 years we have been murdering each other with great facility and that down deep inside of us, we knew what we were doing. Don’t tell me you have never had sex without thinking down deep that there was more involved in what you were doing than just maintaining a hard-on.

I have recently gone through my diaries of the worst of the plague years. I saw day after day a notation of another friend’s death. I listed all the ones I’d slept with. There were a couple hundred. Was it my sperm that killed them, that did the trick? It is no longer possible for me to avoid this question of myself. Have you ever wondered how many men you killed? I know I murdered some of them. I just know. You know how you sometimes know things? I know. Several hundred over a bunch of years, I have to have murdered some of them, planting in him the original seed. I have put this to several doctors. Mostly they refuse to discuss it, even if they are gay. Most doctors do not like to discuss sex or what we do or did. (I still have not heard a consensus on the true dangers of oral sex, for instance.) They play blind. God knows what they must be thinking when they examine us. Particularly if they aren’t gay. One doctor answered me, it takes two to tango so you cannot take the responsibility alone. But in some cases it isn’t so easy to answer so flippantly. The sweet young boy who didn’t know anything and was in awe of me. I was the first man who fucked him. I think I murdered him. The old boyfriend who did not want to go to bed with me and I made him. The man I let fuck me because I was trying to make my then boyfriend, now lover, jealous. I know, by the way, that that other one is the one who infected me. You know how you sometime know things? I know he infected me. I tried to murder myself on that one.

Has it never, ever occurred to you that not using a condom is tantamount to murder? I cannot believe you have never considered this. It is such a simple and intelligent thought to have. And we all should have had it from day one. Why didn’t we? That has been haunting me for a while, that question. Why didn’t we? It is incredibly selfish not to have at least thought that question at that moment, all those moments when we were playing Russian roulette.

>From here on I am going to get even more complicated. I want you to pay attention. This is the most important part of this speech.

Bill Moyers recently said this in a speech on October 20, 2004 at the Palace Hotel:

“For years now, the corporate, political, and religious right—this is documented from 1971 on—the religious and political right has been joined in an axis of influence whose purpose is to take back the gains of the democratic renewal in the 20th century and restore America to a rule of the elites that maintain their privilege and their power at the expense of everyone else. For years now, a small fraction of American households have been garnering an extreme concentration of wealth and income while large corporations and financial institutions have obtained unprecedented levels of economic and political power over daily life.”

“Take note,” Moyers continues. “The corporate, political, and religious conservatives are achieving a vast transformation of America that only they understand because they are its advocates, its architects, and its beneficiaries. In creating the greatest inequality in America since 1929, they have saddled our nation, our States, and our cities and counties with structural defects that will last until our children’s children are ready for retirement, and they are systematically stripping government of all its functions, except rewarding the rich and waging war.”

In other words, our country has been taken away from us by a cabal that includes all the people who hate us.

These people make the rules. They are rarely elected officials. They may or may not know each other. They have several things in common. They are very rich or have strong connections to money or power. They are in agreement on what they do not want. They believe fervently in their God. And that they are doing all this for Him. And they stay in constant touch.

I hope you realize that all these people Bill Moyers is talking about hate us. Thriller writers write better histories of our times than actual historians.

Anyway, it is done. What Moyers is talking about. It’s already happened. On a scale of such magnitude that it is difficult to see how we can ever take it back. It’s all in place now, this cabal of power. It almost doesn’t make any difference who is president.

You want to know why AIDS was allowed to happen. This is your answer. You want to know why gay people have no power and are unlikely to get any. This is your answer.

The top 1% of wealth holders control 39% of total household wealth.

The richest 5% of households own 2/3 of the value of all stock owned in the our country.

The the top 1% have as many after-tax dollars to spend as the bottom 100 million.

The richest 20% of households received almost 50% of the national income, while the bottom 20% received only 3%.

At a time when 265 people in the United States were billionaires, 32 million people were living beneath the official poverty line.

This inequality gap in the United States is the highest in the industrialized world.

“That drive,” Moyers continues, “is succeeding with drastic consequences for an equitable access to public resources, the lifeblood of any democracy. From land, water, and natural resources, to media and the broadcast and digital spectrums, to scientific discovery and medical breakthroughs, and even to politics itself, a broad range of American democracy is undergoing a powerful shift in the direction of private control.

“We are experiencing a fanatical drive to dismantle the political institutions, the legal and statutory canons, and the intellectual and cultural frameworks that have shaped public responsibility for social harms arising from the excesses of private power.”

In 1971, Lewis Powell, a Richmond lawyer who called himself a centrist, was secretly commissioned by the U.S. Chamber of Congress to write a confidential plan on how to take back America for the survival of the free enterprise system. Not democracy. Free enterprise. Barry Goldwater had lost, Nixon was about to implode, Vietnam had sucked the nation’s soul dry, the cabal saw their world unraveling. They saw the women’s movement, black civil rights. student war protests, the cold war. They saw the world as they knew it coming to an end. (We are not the first to feel our world crumbling and becoming powerless.)

This is what Lewis Powell wrote: “Survival lies in organization, in careful long range planning, in consistency of action over an indefinite period of years, in the scale of financing only available through joint effort and in the political power available only through united action.”

This was the birth of what is now called the vast right wing conspiracy. It is known as the Powell Manifesto. You can google Lewis Powell (not the one who helped to assassinate Lincoln) and read it in its entirety.

Under the supervision of some of the richest families in America, that plan has been followed faithfully since 1971 and it has resulted in these past years of horror and the reelection of George Bush. Nine families and their foundations, all under the insistent goading of Joseph Coors, have financed much of this. The Bradley Foundation. The Smith Richardson Foundation. Four Scaife Family Foundations, The John M. Olin Foundation. The Castle Rock (or Coors) Foundation. Three Koch Family Foundations. The Earhart Foundation. The JM Foundation. The McKenna Foundation. From 1985 to 2001 alone they contributed $650 million to this conservative message campaign. They have helped to launch and gain financing for networks of newspapers and magazines. They have seen to it that hundreds of the most powerful think tanks have appeared, including the Heritage Foundation, the Hoover Institute, the American Enterprise, Cato, Manhattan, Hudson Institutes, and many more. There are now in place an ever growing number of well-funded student organizations at many colleges. There are legal advocacy foundations, such as the Center For Individual Rights and Judicial Watch. There are Leadership Institutes and Action Institutes and Institutes on Religion and Public Policy and Religion and Democracy. There is a heavily visible media participation: Fox Television and Pat Robertson and Oliver North and Radio America and the Washington Times and Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh, to name but a very few, including the editorial page of the Wall Street Journal.

For the preparation of this manifesto, Lewis Powell was rewarded by Richard Nixon with a seat on the Supreme Court, where among other things he voted against gays in Bowers v. Hardwick, and against Black people in Bakke v. University of California.

It is vital for us to realize that this plan was written in 1971. The people it was written for did not go off then to a disco, or to the Pines or into therapy, or into drugs. They took this plan and they have executed it religiously every day and night for the next thirty-five years initially with some 400 million dollars and always from then until now with unending hours of backbreaking, grinding, unglamorous work, of civic engagements county by county across the entire expanse of America. They took the richest and most liberal nation in the history of civilization and turned it hard right into a classist, racist, homophobic imperial army of pirates. 30% of America now self-identify as conservative or extremely conservative. When Lewis Powell wrote his Manifesto that figure was less than 10%.

And on the morning of November 3d we wrung our hands and wondered why.

And we have a community that still cannot decide on what we want or what to do. We are completely inept at organizing ourselves and have a monstrously bad record of attempting unity.

The continuing existence of HIV is essential for the functioning of the totalitarianism under which gay people now live. It works out like this: HIV allows “them” to sell us as sick. And that kills off our usefulness, both in our own minds, their thinking we are sick, and in the eyes of the world, everyone thinking we are sick. All of this obliterates the consciousness of those who should help us and don’t. This liquidates and incinerates our individuality and our spontaneity, our abilities to fight back, to hold our oppressors to task. They want to keep HIV going as long as they can! Why haven’t we seen that? The signs have always been there! But like everything else we couldn’t believe them. No one could be as cruel as that. They want to make us superfluous. Their media, their newspapers, their networks will see to it that our good qualities are invisible.

It should therefore come as no surprise that when HIV came along they, this cabal, facilitated its rapid deployment and continue to do so. Before even making the feeblest attempt to commence any miniscule response or inquiry into what their press was not reporting, which they most certainly knew about themselves, they waited until masses of us had all been exposed to the whatever it was. We on the other hand chose to not believe that the whatver it was was a virus until this was incontestably proved. But they knew what it was, or were willing to take the chance and hope that it was, and they just sat back and waited. Their wildest dreams then started to come true. The faggots were disappearing and they were doing it to themselves! I can locate no work of any urgency, or indeed much work at all on aids for most of the period between 1981-1984. Oh many claim it, as many claim seeing cases many years earlier, which I also doubt, but I cannot locate whatever these are claiming. In those four years almost every gay man who had fucked in America had been exposed to the virus.

And when they did start doing anything it was with such feebleness that it amounted to nothing for ten years. You can give me all kinds of reasons why it took so long but my research has convinced me that the actual scenario was completely intentional neglect. Oh perhaps not the doctors or the scientists. But they had no money. And they were not going to get any money. Or enough money. People upstairs were going to see to it that there would be no money. Let even more people get infected first. Blacks, junkies, prostitutes. Every color of skin but straight white. Every religion but Christian. Excuse me, white Christian. Then we’ll throw them a few pennies to make it look like we’re concerned.

The cabals Bill Moyers talked about have called all the shots in facilitating and accelerating the plague of aids. If scientists discovered something useful, it has rarely been available. I spoke earlier about the refusal of this president to allow already approved generic drugs out to a desperate Africa and elsewhere. Of that huge Congressional approval of many billions for HIV around the world that Bush brags about, something less that 2% has left Washington almost four years after its approval. Does this sound like a President and a government and a country that wants to help?

I guess I have suspected behavior like this all along. But I never knew it in quite the way that I have now come to see it thanks to Bill Moyers: intentionality is the only word to describe the genocidal treatment the world is drowning in. Much of the world, most assuredly including us, has been intentionally hung out to die. So far some 70 million of us. That is some manifesto Lewis Powell birthed. And all we have to do is keep fucking each other without condoms and the rest of their “moral issues” will be dead.

Do you seriously think they care about the continuing rise again of HIV infections? They are grateful for them. Do you think they care about a sudden plague of crystal? They thank us for our cooperation. And we thought for one brief second of time that we might even be allowed to marry the ones we love.

And while all this happened, even if we had enough suspicions to act, what did we do? We completely shrank from our duty of opposition. Those are Christopher Isherwood’s words: “the duty of opposition.” But he was flagellating himself with these words. He fears that should he have to live face to face with a war in his backyard that he “would shrink from the duty of opposition.”

Marriage? Forget it. Non-discrimination laws? Forget them. Those that have been enacted will be rescinded or amended into toothlessness. Adoption? Equal rights? Forget everything. We are going to be erased into nothingness. They hate us so much and now they are in complete and utter power, the most dangerous situation in the world for the unwanteds to live under. And I no longer think it matters who is President. Clinton turned out to be as rotten for us as George Bush, either one.

Ok, keep putting your life in jeopardy. 110 of their drug companies certainly want you to do so. Keep dancing your asses off at circuit parties all over the world as you go down to the sea in ships that are made to intentionally capsize and take you down with them. Ok, keep being bored and crying for your poor selves. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. With our complete cooperation they have already murdered several generations of us so far. They won’t have to murder so many more of us to get their wish. Like Russia, we will disappear. That is what they want to do. Disappear us. And now they are able to officially do it. George Bush has his mandate. Can’t you see all this! People high up there in their secret powwows don’t want us here. Word has come down from on high: get rid of the faggots once and for all. You think the law will protect us? Think again. Wait until you see the new Supreme Court.

You are here as a gay person because of certain events and certain people who lived and suffered and died before you. You must learn about them and not continually deny their existence and importance in our history, the history of gay people in America. You must learn about them! They have made your life possible! What kind of person doesn’t want to learn about themselves? I don’t know why but you don’t want to. Most of our fellow gays don’t read books about us. Or come to plays about us. What do you want to do? I don’t know. And for all I can tell in talking to many of you, you don’t know either. And this is very frightening. A large uncongealed mass of potentially superior beings doesn’t know what to do with themselves or bother to learn their history. So they dance. So they drug. So they go on to the internet to find more sex. These are useful lives being wasted. Why is that? Why is there no useful creativity going on? Why is there no mental agility visible, no audible questioning discussions of… almost anything of importance? Don’t you long for some involvement in the humanity that you belong to, for your place in the scheme of things? You don’t know how to make entrance on these playing fields, is that it? I don’t know what is wrong with us. I wish you could tell me. What do you do with yourselves all week long, seven days and nights a week, that amounts to anything really important? I can’t see many of you as doing anything important, to give your lives meaning. Oh I can see lots of frocks on the runway but I can’t see bodies inside of them, bodies with brains and concerned with anything but pretty and orgasms. What do you do to make your world, our world, a better place? A world that needs every bit of help it can get, our world, not their world. You don’t seem able to connect with anyone beyond the basest ways.

“Why can’t we look at our bodies and see not just a sexual definition? Why can’t we see in the body all that the body represents? Sexuality, yes. But also mortality, humanness, humaneness, innocence, purity, health, sickness, strength, consideration, responsibility, divinity. When did we rob our bodies of all the complexity they possess? Why do we refuse to see all that we are capable of? All the other things that make us full beings.” That very beautiful paragraph was written by my friend, Jordan Roth, who is one day going to be a very fine writer if he just keeps at it.

Do you know you are taking the same crystal meth as Hitler? The stuff that was being used well into 1997, the government outlawed one of the ingredients and so the orignal process was resurrected, the one as used by the Nazis. It was first synthesized by the Germans in the early part of the 20th century. Hitler was a crystal addict. The new version is much more potent than the stuff you were taking before 1997, which is the main reason why it is so hard to break an addiction. Dr. Howard Grossman told me this bit of history. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you about the Hitler part. To the more twisted among you it may be a turn-on.

I love being gay. I love gay people. I think we’re better than other people. I really do. I think we’re smarter and more talented and more aware and I do, I do, I totally do. I really do think all of these things. And I try very hard to remember all this.

But I am finding that I am not so proud of being gay anymore. It’s come over me slowly. As much as I love being gay and I love gay people I’m not proud of us right now. It’s disappeared. I almost could say we’ve disappeared. But since you are here I can’t quite say that. But that’s how I feel.

I do not see us, don’t you see? I do not see us! They are killing us. They are eradicating us from this earth. Little by little by little we are disappearing. I do not see us and I am beginning to see us less and less.

I have recently come to believe that gay men and women are tragic people. We are so wonderful but we are also so fucked up. So blind. So ignorant in ways to look after ourselves. So uninterested in the Outside World that is subsuming us when we thought we were making them pretty and giving them songs to sing. So without agendas to utilize our wonderful-ness. We know who the enemy is and we just stand here letting them shoot us over and over again. WE STAND HERE AND LET THEM DO IT! All of the brains and abilities we have among us are useless. The smartest among us, our famous ones, our rich ones, seem to allow this most of all. The ones who should help us and speak up for us refuse that responsibility. We have enough rich gay men and lesbians to finance a takeover of the world but their brains and their money and their skills are not available to to help us. To lead us. To inspire us. To finance us. To be like Lewis Powell’s Nine Families. That, too is tragic. To have so much money and to not to use it for brothers and sisters, for family, for our continuation here on earth. Why is that? Rockefeller tithed himself from his very first dollar, to go to his church for his salvation. Please, can we get word to every rich gay person to show up to help save us. We need our Nine Families desperately.

Public service: how many religions demand this of their members? How much public service in behalf of your brothers and sisters, your family, have you performed recently? Don’t tell me you don’t know what to do. If you can find another ass to fuck, and you seem endlessly inventive at accomplishing this, then you should be able to locate a more useful and responsible outlet.

For a few brief years we had some noble moments, of togetherness and anger and progress. Not many of us, mind you. If you are still alive, you know who you were and where you were during those worst years of our mass murder. You know what you did and what you didn’t. And I know too. I know that most of you, should you still be alive, didn’t do a goddamned thing. In fact, you were ashamed of us, many of you were. I remember that as well as I remember those who died. “Friends” crossing the street to avoid me because I was advising cooling it. I was actually told to not come back to Fire Island Pines. Lots of people come up to me now on the street and say, thank you for what you did for us. I do not consider that a compliment. My response quite often’s been a curt Fuck You, why aren’t you doing it too! I don’t do anything that anyone else couldn’t do. I just do it, and some 10 or 15,000 other people did it too then. And the rest of you sat on your asses. And, those of you who are still alive, know who you were and how little you did.

Yes for one brief moment in time we got angry. Correction, a few of us got angry. Of all our many many millions of gay people in this country, about 10,000 of us or so got angry enough to accomplish something. We got drugs. We got aids care. We got enough so we could continue fucking again. That in the end is what it amounted to. As soon as we got the drugs, you went right back to what got us into such trouble in the first place. WHAT IS WRONG WITH US? The cabal can’t believe their good fortune.

How many gay people in America in those years of Aids? Ten million? Twenty million? Thirty million? How many of us are there now? We don’t even know how many of us there are! Or how many we lost! And every time some statistical number is released by some faceless organization or government office, I always wonder: how the fuck do they know how many of us there are when we don’t even know how many of us there are? And none of our so-called gay organizations ever bothers to find out. It would be nice to know, helpful to know. Don’t you think?

You know, it isn’t meant to be easy, life. I don’t know why it isn’t meant to be easy, but it just isn’t, so we might as well get used to it and try to find things that give us a certain sense of pride. We must create ourselves as something we can live with. It takes energy, yes. Why are we so crippled intellectually? Oh, we study sexuality and gender stuff until it comes out of every university’s asshole but we don’t study history, who we were and where we came from and our roots, the wellsprings of our historical existence. We do not honor our dead as we do not honor ourselves. We continue without surcease to be and remain, endlessly, day after day, helpless victims. “In my country when they raise the bus fares, we burn the buses,” a Brazilian journalist said to me as she watched a sparsely attended Act Up demonstration.

There is never one single hour that a disenfranchised minority does not have to fight to breathe and stay alive. The hate out there will never lessen. It only grows and grows, this hate. Most of you refuse to face this. I hate you for your doing that. I really do. I have no more patience for this kind of weakness. I know this is uncharitable of me. I don’t care. I am too tired of fighting with so few troops. You are now dancing your own dance of death, you know. And I hate you for this, too. Grow up, I beg you. Oh, grow up.

Time goes by so fast. We are allotted so precious little of it on this earth. How sad that you use it so stupidly. Every minute that goes by is gone forever. You who have been given a new lease on life, the very gift of life itself, piss it away. It is so incomprehensible to me who has come so close to death a couple times. I find your inactivity and ingratitude and lack of imagination on how to act in emergencies incongruous, incomprehensible, insulting. And unacceptable. I could never understand during all those years of Aids why every single person facing death would not fight to save his own life. And I cannot understand now how, life having been given back to us again, again you treat your life with such contempt.

Yes, all that I have spoken of tonight is the stuff of tragedy.

I wish we could truly look upon each other as brothers and sisters. It sounds corny I am told when I keep using terms like this. How can we be related I am asked dismissively. You do not know or want to know that we have been on this earth as long as anyone else and that we have as many available heroes and heroines as anyone else. Your family has been here a very long time and has an ancient and distinguished lineage. You must learn that Abraham Lincoln was gay and George Washington and Meriwether Lewis and so many others we are only just beginning to uncover. But they will not let gay history be taught in schools and universities. And we seem unable to teach ourselves. My own college, Yale, with $1 million of my own brother’s money to do just this, will not teach what I call gay history, unencumbered with the prissy incomprehensible gobbledygook of gender studies and queer theory. Abraham Lincoln did not talk that language.

We richly deserve the government we have received. We do not even know who we are. And our enemies participate in their convictions every day of their lives. We only show up when we want to, which is not very often. But then perhaps you do not love being gay. Or think we are better than other people, and smarter and more talented and more tuned into what is happening, and are better friends.

I leave the hardest topic we must face till last.

How do we fight as a united front when they don’t approve of our “behavior” and when our behavior is inseparable from our beings? How do we fight as a united front when some of us won’t or are unable to change certain behaviors that many of us have difficulty in supporting and defending ourselves? We’ve been so concerned about showing the world a united front. We feel the need to say that everything gay people do is good and it simply isn’t so. We must have an honest discussion amongst ourselves about what’s good and what isn’t. This is of course the problem that has finally brought us down because we have refused to deal with it, and perhaps is one reason today’s youngsters have difficulty in acknowledging our past. It is the unfaced devil in our closet, if you will, that we have refused to deal with and which, now, now that they have achieved their position of imperial power, will be used to hang us once and for all. To be crude about it, how do we market and sell our wishes and our needs as they have been able to package and sell their wants and needs so successfully for thirty-five years? How do we frame this issue? How do we claim the God that they have subsumed into their own ownership? It is inhuman to think that the only way we can get through to some safe other side is by policing each other and in so doing destroy whatever hope we have of getting along? If they have been able to convince this country that the Republicans are the party of the people, surely so many sons and daughters can be smart enough to find a way to sell our parents permission to co-exist.

I do not know how to answer any of this. And I don’t think anyone among us does either. To talk out loud about what our bodies have done and continue to do is asking for trouble from others of us. How do we admit our past, own it, and evolve from it and move on? For we must do this.

I know some of you will immediately jump up to act. I caution rushing off to form anything quite so fast until we decide how we want to deal with what I have raised tonight. I know many of you are prepared to tough it out and say to them, “fuck you, I am what I am.” And point out quite rightly that they have simply pushed us too far and, no matter what we have done and continue to do we simply cannot allow them to treat us this way any longer. We are human beings as much as they are, and their God is the same as our God and He simply cannot be allowed to be as punishing as they are requiring Him to be.”

But this is perhaps too honest and reasonable to say to those who are not either. Reasoning like this has not worked for us in the past. But I sense that ignoring this question of responsibility for much that has murdered us will only please them more.

These are the problems we must confront as we go forward. If you are going to fight in a united way, which I am convinced is now the only way that can save us, we must find a platform that all of us can support without divisiveness and shame and guilt and all the other hateful weapons they will club us with.

And if we do want to go out and fight again in a united way we must ask ourselves: are we able to replicate the kind of devotion and commitment and backbreaking thankless work and tactics that continues to bring them year after year into such positions of unlimited power. Thirty-five years of that? For thirty-five years the cabal I have spoken of has worked every single day and night to bring them their success. Quite frankly they deserve their victory and we deserve our loss.

I would like to quote this from a Baptist minister, Tom Ehrich, in Durham. By chance, I found it on a Christian website at 3:00 this afternoon. “It would be helpful if we started in silence and just listened to each other’s voices. Whether we can muster such maturity amid toxic political attitudes remains to be seen. If we are to have a meaningful national discussion of moral issues, we will need to start with the sexual issues, not because they are the most important but because they are the fire engulfing the tower. Let’s get it all on the table…

“And let’s do so openly and boldly, without the code language that we often use in moral debates, without our usual cherry-picking of Scriptures, without our usual blistering indignation, without the bullying that elevates one’s viewpoint into divine certainty.”

So we are being invited to this table whether we want to or not. We must be prepared.

I love being gay. I love gay people. I think we’re better than other people. I really do. I think we’re smarter and more talented and better friends. I do, I do, I totally do. I really do think all of these things.

And I passionately and desperately want all my brothers and sisters to stay alive and well and on this earth as long as they want theirs to.

Can we all help each other to reach this goal?

#gay #politics #hate #larrykramer

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