The Door

Note: This Story was inspired by the writing of the amazing Carson Shepherd. I know I'll never get to his level, yet it is something to aspire to nevertheless. Thanks Carson, you're my writing soul-mate!!

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Click!

The old man breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been trying to get the massive wooden door open for some time now, and finally he was able to push it forward a bit. How he came to be in a tiny hospital room in just a skimpy gown was a mystery to him. All through the day he'd heard whispers of "infarctions", "stents", and "blood flow" yet had absolutely no memory of what had happened. Even his name did not come quickly....oh, that's right....Tom Clancy.

Tom Clancy III, as he preferred to be called, had scrambled out of bed as soon as the perfume-ridden nurse was safely out of sight. In the half darkness of the depressing hole in the wall, he had crawled along the musty dusty floor until he came in contact with his nemesis: The Door.

The Door was no ordinary portal. A full six feet high, it rose out of the floor like a skyscraper gone awry, with odd beveled edges and mysterious openings that kept their secrets. In his dazed state, the old man kept pushing on the bottom panel like a woodpecker in overdrive, until finally he heard the sound he had been waiting for.

Click!

The stubborn door had given an inch. With renewed vigor, the old man attacked the hard paneled monolith until suddenly the entire structure opened up in front of him.

Tom rubbed his tired eyes. In the half light of the decayed, sickly atmosphere of the room, he could barely discern a short passageway, with six additional doors, three on each side.

The groan that escaped Tom's lips echoed away quickly in the acoustically dead hallway. He scraped along like a man possessed, determined to see what was behind each and every wooden entryway. Finally, he reached the first door on the left. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he heard church bells ringing in the distance. The wizened 70 year old pushed the door open eagerly. To his delight, the panel gave way easily, and brilliant light flooded his consciousness.

*

The shrill organ rang out with the Wedding March as Tom and his new bride Christine walked hand in hand down the red-carpeted aisle. They took little notice of the cheering people on either side of them, they were so much in love.

The receiving line was a blur of delightful fragrances and kisses, and the reception melted away as quickly as the ice cream cake that fell on the floor. Soon, Tom and Christine were in a limosine being escorted to their humble honeymoon abode. Yes, it was only a small cape, but Tom had saved the money himself doing odd jobs as he put himself through college. The two 20 year olds had met in English class while reading their favorite author, Sinclair Lewis. It was a romance from the history books, and Tom had proposed after just three months of blissful courtship.

As the newlywed couple entered their new home, no words were spoken. They mounted the pristine stairway to the Wedding Suite slowly, smiling at each other in complete rapture. Once in the simple bedroom, they disrobed turning away from each other, anxious yet very curious at the same time. With only the light from the hallway illuminating their virginal bodies, Tom gently placed Christine on the stiff, starched sheets. Their first kiss was enless, as their tongues played a soulful duet that reached the heights of an exquisite aria. Christine let out a moan of pure ecstasy as Tom's hands caressed her breasts gently and lovingly. The moan turned into an intense scream of desire as he entered her with infinite grace. The couple then built up slowly to a mutual groan of desire, which slowly increased to a huge crescendo of sound. Tom came first, shooting his 20 year buildup of seed into Christine with such force the bedboards shook. At the same time, Christine wailed with such passion Tom thought she would wake the neighbors. Her pussy spasmed unrelentlessly, as in her mind eight tiers of ice cream cake came crashing to the floor. As quickly as the intense lovemaking began, it was finished.

"I love you, Tom." Christine managed a hoarse whisper.

"I love you, too, Honeybun." Tom held her hand tightly, never wanting to let it go.

*

The vision faded slowly as the first door closed shut. Tom rubbed his eyes, trying to remember 50 years back. Did he really love Christine that much? And he hadn't he just seen her.... No, never mind, that was a memory he preferred not to hold on to. Instead, he crawled across the floor to the second door. Raucous laughter could be heard from within. Tom recognized the guffawing as that of an old friend. But what was his name? With his heart pounding, the wrinkled hands pushed the door open with all their might. The portal swung open wildly, and Tom was assaulted with the heady scent of a French Whorehouse.

*

"YES, YES, YES!!!" Frank Mulberry jumped into the air wildly as Tom Clancy, his best friend whooped up a storm. The two 30 year olds had stayed behind in their office cubicles because Frank had managed to convince two prostitutes to visit the horny men. Tom's marriage to Christine had long since passed the honeymoon period. Their lovemaking was predictable and dull, and Tom was constantly as sexed up as a jackrabbit. Frank was in a similar position, and finally in frustration had dialed a number he had found in a seedy telephone booth. One thing had lead to another, and by pooling their money the two hapless men had managed to secure the services of two call girls for an hour, Laverne and Alice.

"I heard these chicks give one hell of a tube job!" Frank glared at his best buddy as the two men rubbed their crotches in anticipation.

"Let's get out of these suits, before I shoot my load in my shorts!" Tom quickly dispensed of his jacket, tie, shirt, and trousers, as Frank followed suit. In a manner of seconds the two men were clad in nothing but their striped boxer shorts, which were tented obscenely with their endowments.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Both men leaped toward the entrance to Acme and Sons, colliding with each other in their excitement.

Laverne came in first. She was a good 6 feet, with bleached blond hair and knockers that spilled over her bra, threatening to burst their confines any minute. Alice was a little shorter, with a tiny mini skirt and equally tiny black panties. The girls looked at the men with amusement, eyeing their tented boxers.

"I see you guys are ready for us!" Wasting no time, Laverne got on her knees and unsnapped the flap of Tom's boxer shorts. His large endowment with a full mushroom head came flopping out like a hungry baby bird searching for food. Laverne sucked it into her mouth like a madwoman, causing Tom to moan and groan in complete ecstasy.

"J-J-E-S-U-S this is fuckin' unbelievable!" Tom grinned at Frank, who was getting a similar sloppy blowjob from the eager Alice, bobbing her head up and down unrelentingly. After a minute of this intense treatment, Laverne got up and positioned Tom's cock in the cleft of her tits. Alice followed suit and soon the two men were breast-fucking the prostitutes into oblivion. Although they tried to hold back, the forbidden aspect of the whole scene was too much for them.

"This is it...I'm going to PPPPOPPPPPPP!"

Tom blasted the Load of Loads, setting off Frank who screamed wildly as he let go of a good eight strong spurts. The two men collapsed on the floor, just in time to see Laverne and Alice slip a couple of 20 dollar bills into their panties and quickly sashay out the door. They lay panting and coughing from the dusty linoleum, not quite believing what had just happened.

*

The old man shook his head, not quite believing what had just happened. Had he really cheated on Christine in such a sneaky way? And what had happened next? The fog slowly lifted as the awful conclusion revealed itself to him. Alice had revealed the secret tryst to a friend of Christines, who then told her all about the "visit" in a drunken stupor. He had begged his wife to forgive him, yet all he could remember was her icy stare. It was a stare that could cut glass...

In his disorganized state, the old man managed to find the third door. He hesitated, as if a premonition from hell had just whistled through his fragile bones. Something evil resided beyond this door, he was sure of it. Yet he had to see. With all the strength he could summon, Tom pushed the door open. With a loud creak, an inky darkness within etched itself upon his consciousness.

*

The back roads to the Sunset Motel were incredibly dark. As the 40 year old Tom Clancy drove to meet his latest conquest, he marveled at how quickly their relationship had developed. From a shared drink at the local seedy bar, to regular visits on a weekly basis. It was just sex, of course, and good sex at that. He and Christine had long since stopped intimate relations, although they did share a bed from time to time. Oddly enough, they had decided not to have children, even though Christine loved them. Tom had been promoted to Vice-President of Acme and Sons and put in 60 hour work weeks. He was horny as ever of course, but Christine just wouldn't put out.

In due time Tom arrived at the dingy hotel. He could tell by the light in the last room to the right that Amy was waiting for him. He increased his pace, scratching his genitals in anticipation. When Tom opened the door to room number 12, Amy was already in bed, waiting for him. She was naked save for a pair of turquoise crotchless panties.

"Hi Lover," Amy grinned. "Fly me!"

Tom didn't need any further encouragement. He tore his clothes off in a frenzy, throwing them around the room in abandon. When he lowered his boxers, his dick stood out like a baseball bat. He looked over to Amy, who was smiling in anticipation. All of a sudden, it wasn't Amy who was smiling at him...it was Christine, who shot daggers his way in her best icy stare!

Tom's erection drooped. "W-W-H-A-T-T???" he started to panic.

"Tom, what's wrong...it's me...Amy!"

"No, you're not Amy...you're....you're....

Tom stumbled. He couldn't say her name.

Christine continued to stare, the icy stare that could cut glass. Tom couldn't take it anymore. He ran naked into the street, yelling like a banshee until he collapsed onto the wet grass.

*

The old man broke out into a cold sweat as the horrific scene played itself over and over in his mind. He hadn't really cheated on Christine, Amy was just a fantasy. Or was she? In his disoriented state, reality and fantasy had become a distorted blur. He continued with shaky hands until the fourth door. Should he open it? The last scene was so unsettling he wondered what could be worse. Yet, somehow he had to see...All it took was a gentle push and the door opened quickly, to the sound of a copy machine spitting out papers and a distant intercom calling his name...

*

Tom despised his new job at Kittle Inc. The cat food company was the latest in dead end jobs for the increasingly despondent 50 year old. His affair with Amy had long since ended, and he had lost his job at Acme and Sons when they needed to cut hundreds of employees. Tom had become so disenchanted with women, he started to fantasize about men. A certain co-worker named Max was constantly flirting with him, and it was time to return the favor.

"What are you staring at?" Tom caught Max eyeing his crotch, which he had been scratching idly.

"Looks like you have something going on down there." Max smiled seductively.

"I always have something going on down there." Tom grinned.

"Can I take care of it?" Max looked at his co-worker pleadingly.

"You mean HERE?" Tom was incredulous.

"We're the only two left for the day...let's take a chance."

Before Tom had a chance to reply, Max got on his knees and undid his suit pants. In a matter of seconds they dropped to his ankles. Max skillfully worked Tom's fat prick out of his white boxers. He jacked him off for one glorious minute then took the head of his prick deep within his mouth.

"GAWWWWWWWDDDDDDDD" Tom wailed as his favorite co-worker played the best skin flute in the world. Max explored every nook and cranny of his buddy's dick, then moved to his hefty balls as Tom grunted up a storm. After one particularly deep thrust, Tom suddenly began squirting a huge load in Max's mouth. His buddy swallowed it eagerly, reluctantly letting Tom's softening prick escape from his lips.

The two men suddenly felt very awkward. Tom quickly got dressed and walked out of his office, hastily hailing a cab . As he rode home feeling a mixture of guilt and exhilaration, it seemed like every time he looked in the rear view mirror he saw Christine staring back at him. The stare that could cut glass....

*

The old man felt suddenly nauseous. Had he really let another guy blow him in desperation? No, that never happened...or did it? His ears started to ring and a low grade headache made its presence known. Part of him wanted to crawl back to the safety of his hospital bed, but another part knew that he could only go forward. As the 5th door emerged from the inky gloom, the old man's hands shook violently. With infinite difficulty, he pushed on the unyielding portal. Suddenly, it swung open wildly, accompanied by the distant sound of a whip cracking....

*

Tom awoke from uneasy dreams still tied to the bed. His 60 year old body had become fatter and splattered with age spots, but Debbie The Dominatrix didn't care. Tom had tried to fool around with men for awhile, but as he got older he couldn't find anyone hot enough to have sex with. And Christine had discovered him in bed with a floozy named Isobel a few years ago, leading to a bitter prolonged divorce. But now he was free, and at least attracted the attention of Debbie once in a while. He had to pay of course, but any sex was better than nothing.

"Oh, Tommy boy, I have a surprise for you!"

Debbie entered the cluttered hotel room wearing nothing but a thong and a smile. In her hand was an eight inch dildo, which she lubricated heavily as Tom watched in amazement.

"You-You're not going to!" Tom's face twisted in horror.

"Only a tiny bit!" Debbie shrieked with laughter as she advanced on her helpless captor. Without warning she plunged 4 inches of the dildo up Tom's beet red butt!

"OWWWWWWWWW" Tom screamed. "That burns, dammit, that burns!"

Debbie ignored him, screwing him with the dildo until all eight inches were up his butt. Tom screamed for mercy, but Debbie didn't care. After all, it was only a game. Tom made enough noise to wake the dead, as Debbie laughed and laughed. After a particularly deep thrust, he mercifully passed out....

*

The old man felt the sweat pouring off his brow. How could he have let himself be used like that? He was completely disgusted with himself. His life had not gone according to plan at all. But wait....there was the final door!

The imposing Last Exit appeared endless in height and equally impressive in width. There was no way the old man could open it. As he pondered the situation, wondering if he should go back down the hall, the door gave a slight creak. The old man's eyeballs popped as the door slowly opened. His jaw dropped as he became aware of a car, a car driving along in the newly fallen snow....

*

Tom's bony hands fingered the steering wheel as he drove along the slippery snow coated roads. The 70 year old's last decade had been one disappointment after another, as friend after friend passed away and he became increasingly sick with Diabetes. Christine had moved away, and for many years, he had lost track of her completely. Then, out of the blue, an old friend reported the sad news: Christine was in the final stages of breast cancer, and only had days to live.

As Tom drove the back roads to the Cornwall Hospital, he became increasingly aware that Christine was the only woman he had ever loved. His sex life had declined to nothing, since no experience could compare with their original wedded bliss. He hadn't seen her in 12 years, and wondered if she was still beautiful. It was time to say he was sorry, and Tom had a huge lump in his throat as he mounted the cold stone hospital steps. He hurried to her room, holding out the aquamarine necklace Christine had worn on their wedding night.

Amidst a welter of imposing machines, his dying beloved lay veiled by an oxygen tent. Only the steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor penetrated the golden silence. Even through the oxygen tent, Tom could see Christine was staring at him. The icy stare that could cut glass.

"Hey..what's the matter?" Tom started to shake. "I'm sorry about...you know...I didn't mean to hurt you!"

The icy stare continued, static and unyielding.

"Hey come on, I'm a nice guy. Everyone makes mistakes. I love you...OK?? I LOVE YOU!!!!"

Christine continued to stare, but with less ferocity. She was beginning to slip away.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, GODDAMMIT??" Tom began to panic, ripping out tubes and knocking over machines. He started to drag Christine off the bed as an alarm went off in the distance. At the same time he became aware of a pressing pain in his chest. Tom fell to the floor, taking Christine's hand in his. The Final Door suddenly creaked loudly as it began its last inexorable journey.

"NOOOO!!" Tom wailed. "I'M NOT READY I'M NOT READDYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! The door started to close, drawing Tom's hand away from his love.

"CHRISTINE, I LOVE YOU!!! I LOVEEEEEEE YOU!"

Tom watched in horror as Christine's hand receded in the distance. Soon she was just a blur as the room whirled around him. The Door gave one final shudder as it closed forever.

Click!

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(Comments and feedback welcomed)