Grass Is Sometimes Greener....

"Yeah, he was a lot of work...it was very frustrating at times, but in the end, he made a great little girlfriend," said Tommy.

"Johnny has the exact same fear of 'coming out,'" continued Karen. "He's a classic closet-queen...even though he has secret desires for men, his inhibitions are so deeply ingrained, the only way to get him into a physical relationship would be to threaten to expose those secret desires...he will do ANYTHING to keep other people from knowing he wants to have sex with men...in fact, I think he'll be quite good in bed---he's a natural submissive who likes to please, and his fear of exposure will make him rationalize his actions as justified...it wouldn't surprise me if this is Johnny's intent!"

"He WANTS to be blackmailed into sex with men?" asked Tommy.

"Deep inside, I think he does..." she answered. "It takes all the pressure off of him if he can convince himself he HAS to do it---that he doesn't have a choice...in his mind, if he is being forced into sex with men, then it is perfectly acceptable."

"You know, Karen, sometimes you put your doctorate in Psychology to good use ...I have wondered why a guy like Johnny---intelligent, funny, personable and good-looking would move so far away from his family and friends at the tender age of twenty-one...from what you're saying his 'secret' is so embarrassing and shameful to him, he HAD to leave home, right?" said Tommy.

"...and by moving here, he doesn't have to worry about family and friends discovering his sinful obsession!" answered Karen. "...yes, I think he made a conscious decision to move here to try and change his life---to meet a dominant man who would introduce him to the world of submissive, gay sex---a world he suspects he belongs, but would NEVER have the courage to explore back home."

After a moment of silence, Tommy asked, "Why play games with him? Why shouldn't I simply tell him I'm interested in him, and ask him out?"

"His immediate response would be reflexive---he would be shocked and humiliated if he thought you suspected he was homosexual...you would drive him deeper into denial...no, he has to believe he has no other choice than to have sex with you...like it did with Timmy, it may take weeks before he willingly accepts his sexuality," explained Karen.

Then she added: "I know boy's like Timmy and Johnny can be frustrating, but isn't half the fun in the conquest itself?"

Tommy smiled and said, "Yes, there is a great deal of satisfaction watching a boy go from complete denial into a cock-craving slut---from what you've said, I think Johnny may take to cock even better than Timmy!"

"Heh-heh-heh..." chuckled Karen. "I happen to know Johnny has not only given men handjobs, but he's sucked cock, as well, and he's quite good at it...of course, he hasn't performed those acts voluntarily, it's all been under the guise of blackmail...and when he was in my bed, I took the liberty of fingering his 'pussy'---nice and tight---definite virgin...when I win our bet, I'm going to make the sissy-boy squeal when I pop his cherry and he cums in my panties!"

Then she added: "Tommy, you have a major responsibility here---Johnny's future is truly up to you...you can make or break him...I'd like you to train him properly---show him the joys of being a submissive 'bottom boy' and then introduce him to our group...he's so eager to please all you guys will love him!"

Chapter 1 – New City---New Friends

The Fletcher Park Garden Apartment complex in Tampa is near both the university, and Busch Gardens, not that either of those places matter in this story, but I do like the location.

I had done extensive internet research before moving here...apartments, employment, shopping, restaurants and bars...and this area is convenient for everything, especially bars...quite a few are within walking distance from the apartment complex, which is important---I can't afford yet another DUI (don't let my honesty surprise you---that's just the way I am).

My name is John, and I'm twenty-one-years old. I moved here from Minnesota to get away from cold and snow, and---just to see if I could do it---sometimes I have relied on family and friends to such an extent, I want to find out if I'm man enough to make it on my own.

I went to college after high school, but found I was more interested in my independence than education. I quit school, found a job, and moved into an apartment with a high school buddy, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Now though, I have very different challenges. The main one being money. Unskilled jobs in Florida don't pay nearly what they do back home, and rent doesn't seem any cheaper, either. I pay more than half my monthly income for rent, so I have to be very careful with what's left-over.

Luckily, my mother not only taught me how to cook, but how to shop for bargains, as well (my Dad was out of town on business quite a bit). I don't mind eating most of my meals at home, and it gives me more money when I go out and shoot pool at the bars.

The apartment complex has a rec room with two pool tables, and when the money gets tight, I go there to play...and drink, hahaha....

I work at a nearby big-box liquor store in the warehouse. Before 9 a.m. we stock the shelves, after that it's unloading trucks, cleaning up, and re-stocking coolers and shelves as needed.

I'm fortunate I have a job where I can move around, and not deal directly with the public...some mornings, well, I'm not exactly feeling my very best, if you know what I mean...yes, I know what you're thinking...maybe I shouldn't overdue it at night, but hey, I'm young and I love to 'party'...hahaha....

The great thing about starting work at 5 a.m. is I'm home by 1:30 p.m....it gives me plenty of time to sit by the swimming pool and watch my quirky neighbors. Most everyone is under thirty, but there are a few exceptions.

Take Karen, for example...so I'm laying back on a chaise lounge my second day there, and I watch this beautiful woman come out of the building and into the pool area. She's wearing a rather skimpy bikini and---OH MY GOD---what a body! Great boobs---not overly huge, but shapely, and she's showing plenty of cleavage.

Anyway, I can't take my eyes off her boobs, and the way her hips swayed in the tiny bikini bottom...and before I knew it, she was standing directly in front of me, staring at me thru her dark sunglasses.

She smiled and said, "Hey, cutie, anyone sitting next to you?"

I felt myself blush, but the worst part was I couldn't come up with words---I just mumbled, "Uh, well, uh, no..."

My goodness, John---what a dork! I said to myself as I watched her sit down beside me.

Well, to make a long story short, she introduced herself, we chatted (mostly her), and little-by-little I became comfortable talking with a gorgeous woman who was probably ten-years older than me and way out of my league. She had a daily routine, weather permitting, and I made sure to save the chair next to mine for her.

Behind our large, framed sunglasses, we watched everyone come and go from the pool, and the adjacent workout room. Karen was never shy about commenting on our neighbors physical appearances; and, since she had lived at the complex a long time, she knew personal and intimate details of their lives, as well.

Let me say, from some of the scathing comments she made, I'm glad I was her friend---I certainly wouldn't want her as an enemy.

I am always quite shy, and reticent about speaking when I first meet people. If I'm not 100% comfortable with the person I'm with, I am afraid they'll find me stupid, and my opinions wrong. To me, there is nothing worse than saying what I think is an astute, or funny comment, only to be greeted with an icy silence.

I learned this from my father; he would constantly remind me of his favorite Abraham Lincoln quote: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt." And that is pretty much how I act around strangers.

The other piece of wisdom he planted firmly in my head was, if you want to turn a stranger into a friend, never talk about yourself; instead, ask questions and have the other person talk about themselves. "After all..." he would say, "EVERYONE loves talking about themselves!"

Over the years I have found that not everyone enjoys talking about themselves---some think I'm getting nosy and too personal---but there are plenty of people who NEED to talk so they will go on-and-on-and-on....

The one thing I've discovered that truly bothers me is after I'm finished asking questions, and have drawn the person out, they've told me way more about themselves than I wanted to know---99.9% of them never ask me a single question about myself; they seem to have zero interest in knowing anything at all about me. It's a wonder I have any confidence and self-esteem, at all.

Anyway, I'm straying off-course here...Karen is one of the few people who ever expressed interest in me, and my life. As soon as she answers a question from me, she fires back with a question of her own. I like it---she keeps my mind alert, and let's face it---I like talking about myself as much as the next person.

We had known each other only a few days when she added a new topic to our talks---sex.

One afternoon, when all the poolside chairs were occupied by almost entirely guys, she made a grand, sweeping gesture with her hand and said, "This is a crying shame!"...I took the bait and asked her, "What's wrong?" she said, "All these dicks here, and NOT ONE will get hard for a woman---I'd have better luck offering my pussy to a roomful of Amish men than to these guys!"

She made a serious face, stared into my eyes and said, "Oh---I'm sorry if I offended you, Sweetie!" then broke out with laughter.

My face turned fifty shades of red. I was confused; not sure if she was serious. "No-no, that's fine," I said, trying to smile along with her. "Lots of people have wondered if I'm gay."

She winked one eye at me and said, "And what do you tell them?"

My face turned an even brighter red; my eyes filled with moisture.

"N-No, I'm NOT gay!" I protested, but as soon as I heard the words come out of my mouth, I felt compelled to add, with a forced smile, "...but if I were, this would certainly be the place to live, right?"

Karen laughed and nodded her head then changed the subject.

Thru Karen, I met many of my neighbors and residents of the apartments. It soon became apparent to me I had moved into a mostly gay and lesbian apartment complex.

She'd lived there almost ten-years, and seemed to know everyone...even the musclemen who worked out in the weight room most days. There were four of them who hung out together. They laughed and joked around, and spotted each other while lifting.

Now I don't think it's gay to say I can appreciate beauty, not only in women, but men, as well. Maybe it's envy I feel when I see a well-developed male, but in all honesty, I thought three of the four musclemen looked more grotesque, than manly. Their chests and biceps were appallingly huge, and over-developed. I couldn't understand why they'd want to look that way.

The fourth guy, Tommy, would stop by every day and chat with Karen. That's how I met him. I considered his chest and muscles almost perfect, and there wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen on him. Also, he was, in Karen's own words, "Drop dead gorgeous!"

One day, after I watched him walk back into the apartment complex, I turned to Karen and asked, "Have you two ever hooked-up?"

She lifted the sunglasses off her nose, stared at me thru furrowed eyebrows, and said, "Sweetie, he's as queer as a three-dollar bill!"

She laughed at the look of surprise on my face.

"OH," I said as the crimson spread across my cheeks one more time.

"You know, though..." she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "...he really likes you...he said you're the prettiest boy he's ever met...it's too bad you're not gay---you two would make a cute couple!"

My face had never felt so hot. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Leslie, a total flaming flaming faggot, approached us and said to Karen, "Honey, I'm going to use the dryer now if you want to get a wash done!"

"Thank you, Sweetie---I'll be right in!" she answered. Then she turned to me and said, "Two of the washing machines are broken---it's a bitch trying to get time on the one that works...you might want to get your dirty clothes together and do a load when I'm done!" .

"Good idea," I said and followed her into the building.

Later, when Karen was finished with the dryer and I was loading my clothes something caught my eye. I leaned over, reached into the dryer, and pulled out a pair of sheer pink panties.

I stood there with the panties in my hands, feeling the material. When my prick began to rise I shook the fog from my brain and went into the hallway looking for Karen. She was gone.

I thought for a moment then stuffed them into my pocket. I'll give them to her later, I told myself.

It was the last day of the month which meant it was a payday. It's amazing what the prospect of having cash in your pocket does for your attitude...even though rent would have to be paid the next day, it always feels good to be 'rich,' if only for a few hours.

I cashed my check and hurried home to meet Karen at the pool. She had surprised me with a gift of new shorts, but when I tried them on, I said "GOOD GOD" at how tiny they looked in the mirror. They were white and tight...and if I didn't know better, they looked like girl's short-shorts!

"Sweetie," she said, "I had to guess at your size---don't worry, they look great on you!"

Suck it up, John, I told myself. She bought them for you---you HAVE to wear them at least today!

When I opened the creaking gate to the pool everyone looked at me. I was acutely aware of how tight the shorts felt on my butt. I thought I saw the gay boy's smirking. I hurried to the chair next to Karen and was about to sit down, but she stopped me.

"Aren't those the cutest shorts you've ever seen?" she exclaimed. "Turn around for me---let me see your ass!"

Oh my God, I thought, but I couldn't say 'No' so I quickly did a three-sixty then sat down.

Tommy was standing in front of us before I could even sit back in the chair. I'd known someone had followed me into the pool area, but didn't know who it had been.

"Nice shorts," he said to me with a wide grin on his handsome face. "I watched you wiggle your cute little butt all the way in here!"

I cursed myself when my face blushed a deep red. He said a few words to Karen then smiled and nodded at me and headed towards the weight room.

He stopped abruptly, turned and said to me, "A few of us are going to 'Chaps' tonight---you want to come with us? It'll be fun---I hear you play a mean game of eight-ball!"

His invitation surprised me and I couldn't come up with words fast enough to suit Karen.

"He'd love to," she said, "...what time should he be ready?"

"I'll knock on your door at six!" he said to me then went off to the weight room.

Karen called out, "He'll be ready!" Then said to me, "Look at you, Sweetie---you have a date tonight with the most handsome man in the whole complex!"

GOOD GOD, how I wished I could control my blushing!

"It's NOT a date," I protested, "...we're going to shoot pool!"

Karen smiled and laughed and laughed and laughed....

After shaving and showering, I was dressed and waiting for Tommy at 5:45.

I took Karen's advice and wore the new white short-shorts, and a powder blue polo shirt. I stared at my image in the mirror a long time; it helped relieve the nervousness I felt in the pit of my belly.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard three sharp raps on the front door. When I opened the door, Tommy looked at me from head to toe and smiled.

"You look very nice, Johnny," he said.

"Oh, thank you," I said, feeling a strange mixture of both embarrassment and pride, from being complimented by a man.

In the parking lot, I saw the other three weight-lifters, Raymond, Jerry and Marcus standing beside a car. To my chagrin, I also saw Leslie, and another twink, Bobby, standing with them.

The moment they saw us, they piled into the car leaving me wondering how we'd all fit inside.

Tommy went to the open, backseat door on the passenger side and climbed in...Marcus, Bobby and Tommy filled the backseat leaving no space for me...he patted his muscular thighs and said, "Don't worry---there's plenty of room---sit on my legs!"

I hesitated and Tommy impatiently snapped, "C'mon, let's go!"

I sat as close to his knees as possible; it was very uncomfortable, and when Raymond, who was driving, came to the stop sign at the entrance to our parking lot, he stopped, then gunned the engine and I fell backwards against Tommy.

Tommy took the opportunity to pull me back on his lap. "Sit all the way back---yes, that's good," he said. "Lean back on my chest---you'll be more comfortable!"

When I did what he'd said, he put one arm around my belly, and held me to him. I felt his other hand on my bare thigh.

"There---that's better, isn't it?" he asked.

"Uh, yes, I guess so..." I said.

The weightlifter's made casual conversation while the twinks and myself listened. Tommy's hand was absentmindedly stroking my thigh, and I didn't want to make a fuss and push it away, but I was horrified it was getting me aroused.

Raymond was not a very good driver. He used sudden bursts of speed and swerved thru the traffic. My butt was constantly moving and shifting on Tommy's lap. It wasn't long until I felt something pressing against my butt...OH MY GOD---Tommy has an erection!

A couple blocks from the bar, Tommy began to hold me down, and ground his crotch harder into my butt. I turned fifty shades of red, but saw that no one in the car was paying any attention to us.

When Raymond found a parking spot and stopped the car, Tommy's hand suddenly gripped my hard-on thru the shorts and squeezed---OH MY GOD---I was scared to death I was going to cum in my shorts!

I hurried out of the car like it was on fire. "Something wrong?" Marcus asked me.

I didn't want the others to know what happened so I said, "No, uh, I was getting a little car-sick..."

OH MY GOD---what do I do? What should I say to Tommy? I don't want to lead him on and have him thinking I'm gay! But I don't want to make him mad, either....

Tommy rubbed my back, and said, "That was one of the more pleasant rides I've had in a while!"

I coughed and choked. He smiled and softly chuckled at my embarrassment. I had to walk into the bar with my hand covering my crotch. I glanced at Tommy, oh my, the bulge in his jeans was very noticeable, and he didn't even attempt to cover it.

This is too weird---I need a drink! I said to myself.

Three drinks, and a few pool games later, I finally relaxed. Actually, Tommy ordered doubles and I was getting buzzed.

"It's Happy Hour from six-to-nine...two-for-one drinks so I just had the bartender pour you double-shots..." explained Tommy. "This is the best time to come here...it doesn't get crowded until ten...after that, it'll be almost impossible to find an open pool table."

Tommy and I were by ourselves on a corner table; Raymond and Jerry played a few tables away, with Leslie looking on. Marcus and Bobby sat at the bar.

Tommy had paid for all three rounds, and I was determined to pay for the next three to even it up. When I pulled out my wallet and reached inside for a twenty, I discovered I'd forgotten to take out most of the money and leave it at home.

Uh-oh, I said to myself. Be careful, John, rent is due in the morning! I had, in the past, sometimes been careless with my money once I'd had a few drinks.

Anyway, I lost the first three games to Tommy, not because he was better than me---I missed simple shots...but when the Jack Daniels kicked-in, I became unbeatable.