Is This Really Happening?! Ch. 01

***Author's Note: This is my first story of this type, and the first I'm sharing with anyone. Hopefully it's decent, we'll see. I have some ideas for continuing the story, but it may well just all come right off the cuff. If anyone is reading this, I hope it doesn't suck! :)***

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It was just a typical Friday morning. I woke up, showered, threw down some breakfast and off to work I went. Ugh, at least it's Friday. I won't bore you with the boring ass details of my job as a semi-corporate schlub, performing contract customer service and PR for a big telecom company. 'Just gotta make it to 5' I thought to myself. I usually repeat that mantra every 5-15 minutes during a Friday. It appears this one is no different.

Until, that is, I received some sad news via text message around 3:30. 'Paul, I hate to tell you this but your grandpa passed away yesterday. We're meeting at his house at 6 tonight, I'll see you then. Dad.' Well. Quick and to the point, and clearly wasn't asking if I wanted to go. But go I would.

If you've ever lost a grandparent, then you can imagine the scene. My parents and their siblings and their kids, sitting around reminiscing; some crying, some laughing, plenty of stories to be told. Finally, my dad brought up what to do about the house. My grandpa left it to him, but left the contents to me.

My dad said, "I plan to sell the house. I don't want to live here and I don't want to rent it out and have to be a landlord. Paul, pretty much everything inside the house is yours. I would suggest going through it all to see if there's anything you actually want to keep. Once you've done that, we can trash or donate the rest. I'll give you 2 weeks."

Alright then. Time to comb through several decades worth of junk to see if there's anything I would even consider keeping. While not particularly taxing, it is an exhausting process. It's truly amazing how much stuff builds up when you live in one place for so long.

About a week later, I was at my limit. I'd been going to the house every night after work and combing through crap. I'd even crashed there a couple times, as the thought of making the 20 minute drive to my crappy apartment seemed excessive. I always liked staying at my grandpas house, it was huge and you could easily get lost in it. The property spanned an entire block front to back, with a big garage opening up onto the street behind. It had front stairs, back stairs, a hidden door to the attic, a creepy basement with the door hidden behind the fridge. You know the stuff dreams and/or nightmares are made of.

I'd brought my computer with me this night, as I expected I would just crash there again. After calling the shit-sorting for the night, I popped a beer and took a load off. Then I realized it had been almost a week since I'd actually gotten a load off. Pretty easy to fix with a big empty house and the Internet. I fired up my PC and into pornland I went. I went straight to one of my favorites: Heather Brooke. The way this beautiful woman could suck dick was beyond imagination. Straight to the root over and over, the whole time looking like she finally got what she always wanted. Not a one trick pony however, as she also enjoyed anal sex. Watching her go from bent over and getting pumped in the ass, then straight to sucking that entire dick down her throat prompted my usual reaction, and left me to clean up my own mess.

I know what you're thinking, 'how sad for you'. And you'd be right. I had experience with women; I had plenty of fun in college, but not much recently. Call it a slump, or a drought if you want, but I hadn't even been trying that hard. I was in need of a change.

The next morning, Saturday, I decided to tackle the attic. The space was a mess, 70 years of old furniture and toys haphazardly discarded and left to collect dust. I did find some old baseball cards, although time and the air in the attic did them no favors. Not worth very much unless in mint condition, but might as well save them just to be safe. I was on the verge of giving up and writing off the rest of the attic when I saw the lamp. To be specific, it was an actual lamp, although not one I ever remembered seeing before. If I had to describe it, I would liken it to the 'leg' lamp in the movie 'A Christmas Story'. Haha, "Fra-gee-lae". Cm'on, thats funny.

My immediate thought is that I love that movie, and this would make perfect sense in my apartment, as an avowed movie nerd. So down the stairs with me came the lamp. I put it on the kitchen table while I made my lunch, and looked more carefully. It certainly didn't seem that old, even though there was nothing else in the attic from less than 35 years prior. Then the proverbial light came on: where the hell is the plug? There was no power cord, and no switch or knob to turn the lamp on.

'Well shit,' I thought, 'I might as well throw the damn thing out then'. I picked it up to throw it out back in the trash when I noticed something odd. As I was holding it, the lamp felt funny. Almost like it was full. It felt kind of like holding a lava lamp, like there was something sloshing around inside of it.

Clearly I'd been alone in this big ass house too long. Now I'm imagining a friggin lamp is 'full'. What a whack-job. So I shook my head and chucked the lamp into the big pile of junk I had going on the back porch. When it landed in made a sound like papers being torn, except much louder. Once my heartbeat was no longer louder than anything else I stepped outside to look around. I must say I'm glad I was alone at the time, because the frightened shriek I let out when I saw him would not have been the most masculine of responses.

Standing amid the pile of junk was a strangely dressed man I'd never seen before. He wore a purple robe with black and white pinstripes. He was completely bald, but sported a full beard and mustache, with a hawk-nose and big, eerily piercing eyes. If I wasn't so sure that I was either hallucinating or about to be murdered, I would have said he looked tired, or sad. Or both.

After a few moments of staring at each other, I finally managed to blurt out, "Who the fuck are you?!"

He continued to stare at me for a few moments before he responded, "Your tongue is unable to form the sounds required for my name. For your purposes, you may call me JaHeel."

"OK, JaHeel, who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing here?!" That's me. So subtle.

I felt a slight tingle in my ears and the top of my head before JaHeel spoke again, "Ah now I see. I knew your grandfather. You could say we were 'friends'. I'm saddened to learn he is gone, while I am not."

Well shit. Seriously, who is this fuckin guy? "How did you get here? How did you know my grandpa?" I blurted.

"I helped your grandfather find the love of his life. In return, he promised to help me end my own existence."

Ever the master conversationalist, I responded with, "You what?!"

"I have been alive longer than you could imagine Paul." he said. "Many lifetimes of men I have either slumbered or walked the world. I grow weary of this existence, and your grandfather suggested a plan to end it. However I was pulled into slumber before we could proceed."

"Seriously, who the fuck are you and what are you talking about?!"

"Calm yourself Paul. I mean you no harm, by my oath. In fact, I propose we proceed with the plan your grandfather suggested. I am a genie, Paul. I was created thousands of years ago. I have had several masters, some good, some bad. However I have been on my own for many ages now, unable or unwilling to take a new master."

At least now I knew. Definitely hallucinations. "Yea right. And I'm the Queen of fuckin England."

"Would you like proof?" he asked me.

"Sure, why not." Then I felt the same tingle in my head & ears.

"Done. Look down Paul."

After a brief look of scorn at JaHeel, I looked down and nearly had a massive heart attack. Kneeling at my feet, wearing nothing but a lusty grin was none other than Heather Brooke!

"Wha? How?" Ever the conversationalist.

"Shhhhhhhh", she purred at me. "No talking."

I stared with disbelieving eyes as she unbuckled my pants and pulled out my dick. She licked around the head twice, smiling as I shuddered. Then she began to suck me like I was going out of style. I wasn't the most well endowed guy you'll ever meet, about 6 inches with decent girth, but that didn't seem to matter as she swallowed my whole shaft over and over again. I was nearly cross eyed in pleasure, and felt the pressure in my balls building. I started to tell her I was about to cum, when she drove her head down my shaft, holding eye-contact the entire time, and began to tongue my balls. I groaned and began to buck as I felt my orgasm explode from the tip of my cock. She moaned lewdly and kept my entire dick in her throat as I shot rope after rope of my cum into her waiting belly.

As I slowly came down from the high, she continued to gently suck on me without taking her eyes off of mine. I wrapped my fingers in her hair and relished the feeling of being completely satisfied by this amazing woman. Heather almost forlornly pulled off my dick, swirling her tongue around the head as she did. She smiled and giggled at my continued shudders as she did so.

I looked down at her, "Wow" I said.

She smirked and said, "I know, bye Sweetie."

And poof! She was gone.