My Fantasies Ch. 09

Billy and I sat in silence a few minutes before curiosity got the better of me.

"What did Markus say to you?" I asked; then joked: "Did he promise his undying love and devotion? hahahahahahaha...."

Billy wrinkled his nose and said, "I wish...nope, he told me after his workout he's gonna make me lick the sweat off his balls!"

I bit my tongue to keep from blurting out a terrible secret. I couldn't very well tell my best friend that his boyfriend made ME lick the sweat off his balls just yesterday, could I?

I had to shift sideways on the lounge chair away from Billy so he wouldn't be able to see the hard-on poking out the front of my tiny swim trunks.

The Buddy System

I pulled my hand away from the bulge in his slacks so fast I think I hurt his feelings -- I know it made him angry.

"What the hell? What's wrong with you?" he fumed.

"We just met - I don't know you very well...I don't want to give you the wrong impression," I softly said.

It was mostly dark inside the car but I could see the whites of his wide open eyes.

"Wrong impression?" he said. " Are you crazy? All the guys here call you 'Handjob Johnny' - the only 'impression' I have of you is you give handjobs to any guy who wants one... now c'mon boy, stop being such a prick-tease - I'm horny as hell -- take out my dick and jerk me off!!"

And so it goes in my world...no respect...he did have a nice cock though....

***

Like most guys, he couldn't get out of the car fast enough once he shot his load. I was still cleaning up his mess when I heard him re-open the car door.

"Don't go anywhere, kid, stay where you are - you're gonna do my buddy next!" he snarled at me with authority then slammed the door shut.

That pretty much describes my whole night. As soon as I 'did' one guy, his 'buddy' would take his place in the backseat beside me. Wow, what a close-knit group of guys -- it seemed like all the men in the bar were 'good buddies!'

When they were finally finished with me my cream-colored slacks were drenched with their jizz and my undies were uncomfortably wet with my own oozing discharges. I couldn't go back inside the bar looking that way so I went home to my boyfriend.

***

"You disgust me -- I can't even stand to look at your face -- turn around, I'm gonna fuck you doggy-style!" commanded my boyfriend after I told him what I had done that night.

"No Barry, pleeeezzzzzz...I'm sorry, I promise I won't do it again!" I whined even though we both knew I was lying.

"Get on your hands and knees, you little slut -- I swear, you'll be sorry if you force me take you across my lap and give you a belt-whipping!"

His words caused my prick to stiffen and he laughed at me.

"God, what a pathetic little sissy you are!" he said then gave my butt a hard slap. I almost came right then and there.

I scurried to all-fours on the end of the bed and opened my legs as wide as they would go while Barry stood behind me slowly stroking his hard, manly prick.

"Reach back between your legs and take hold of my cock and put it in for me!" he ordered.

"Ohhhhhhhhh, yes Barry," I groaned as I obeyed his sexy command and grasped his manly cock and pressed the bulbous head against the opening to my boypussy.

I knew he would try to teach me a lesson by recklessly ramming his steel-hard dick into me, but I was ready for his mighty thrusts. Yes, there was some pain, but within seconds I felt nothing but the euphoric glow of his wonderful-wonderful manhood sliding in-and-out of my open boycunt.

If you've never been fucked in the ass I feel sorry for you. You haven't experienced the true bliss of being totally filled with man-meat. The exquisite sensations that course thru my sweaty body causes me to lose control every time I bend over for a man.

My erotic reverie was briefly interrupted by his hoarse, growling voice.

"Don't forget -- tomorrow is rent day!" he hissed thru clenched teeth.

"I know," I sighed as my head rolled from side-to-side on its own volition.

"Mister Z's brother is in town -- you're gonna have to do him too!" said my boyfriend.

I sighed and whined, "Do I have to?"

And when my manly boyfriend forcefully replied, "Yes, you have to!" my balls exploded and my dick wildly sprayed cum all over the bed.

***

The owner of the building, Mister Z, lives in apartment 1A. He is quick to take care of any and all issues and maintenance problems. More importantly though, he gives the 'doms' a discount on rent and the freedom and discretion to discipline their boys any way they wish.

In return, however, he demands a steep price from them: the use of their 'boys' to satisfy not only HIS enormous sexual appetites, but those of his friends, too!

Me and the other 'subs' in the building have a saying we whisper to each other behind the backs of our men: 'What happens in 1A - stays in 1A.'

We all agree it's better our lovers don't know what Mister Z makes us do for him and his buddies in that nasty den of iniquity he calls 'home.' We routinely perform sexual acts that our boyfriends would never even dare ask of us.

Worst of all though, and I am deeply ashamed to admit this, but the greatest orgasms I have take place in apartment 1A.

EPILOGUE

I don't know how this happened to me. One moment I'm in a loving and committed relationship with a boyfriend then -- BOOM - the next thing I know I belong to Mister Z -- literally -- he paid Barry five-thousand dollars for me!

You may be thinking 'That's impossible - there is no such thing as slavery in twenty-first century America' but you'd be wrong. I am living proof it still exists. In fact, in our gated community 'pretty boys' are bought and sold and traded every day like party favors.

Most boys agree to this arrangement but boys like me have no choice in the matter. I blame that asshole Barry for my predicament. One night in a moment of weakness, I confessed to him a couple of my past sins believing I could trust him only to have him use them against me. What a prick!

I do indeed 'belong' to Mister Z now. I even signed a contract. What else could I do? If I didn't sign it Mister Z threatened to have Barry plant illegal drugs in my car and apartment and have me arrested.

"Do you know what happens to pretty little boys like you in prison?" he says whenever I disappoint or disobey him. "The convicts will pass you around until your asshole is stretched so wide they'll only want to use your mouth, and then they'll have you on your knees sucking cock fourteen-hours-a-day!"

My best orgasms nowadays are when I fantasize about being sent to prison.

It Makes No Sense at All

I had that awful dream again last night! You know the one I'm talking about, right? It's the one where Timmy, my next door neighbor, climbs naked into my bed and makes me do queer, homosexual things with him -- I wanna barf just thinking about it!

It makes no sense whatsoever -- I'm not a fag - I've never done a sick thing like that in my life! I'd rather die than touch another guy's junk so why on earth would I have that revolting dream night-after-night?

I know it's a dream because if I WAS a faggot, I wouldn't be 'doing' him -- he'd be 'doing' me, hahahahaha, at least I can joke about it!

Seriously though, I'd stop taking those damn sleeping pills but I haven't slept this well in a long, long time. I'm getting a full eight-hours a night and it's wonderful. Sure, I may wake up tired and a little groggy, but that is one of the listed side-effects.

Another of the side-effects reads: 'May experience intensely erotic dreams.'

I don't know about you, but to me 'intensely erotic dreams' means envisioning beautiful babes on their knees with their heads bobbing back-and-forth on my 'johnson' but nooooooo...leave it to me to dream about guys dicks instead of girls pussies -- I'm such a dork!

No one needs to know there aren't any girls in my dreams, right? The dream itself is disturbing enough - there's no need to complicate matters. Worse yet, the damn dream is so vivid and clear it's like watching myself in high-definition.

The touching - the squeezing - the stroking -- the kissing...unfortunately, in the dream I am doing those things with a guy, ewwwwwwwwww...how sick is that?

A couple more side-effects of the pill are the tossing and turning and the night-sweats...oh man, do I sweat or what? When I wake-up the bedspread and sheets are not only twisted and crumpled, but also soaked in my perspiration. Well, SOME of it is perspiration, if you know what I mean? Hahahahaha....

HEY, what healthy, all-American, 21-year-old man DOESN'T jerk-off every night, am I right?

***

Thanks to my dad, I've been blessed with a strong 'gaydar.' At an early age he taught me how to recognize the difference between fags and real men.

He would warn me, "John, there are a lot of guys out there who look and act normal but want nothing more than to turn you into a sissy...you gotta be careful...one moment a guy will be all smiley and nice to you and the next thing you know his hand is inside your pants with a finger massaging your virgin bunghole...next he'll force your hand around his long, thick, hot and hard manly cock and make you stroke him until he shoots his spunk all over you, or worse yet -- he cums in your mouth!"

Yeah, we all wondered about dear old dad, too - heh-heh-heh....

Anyway, I met Timmy the day I moved into the downstairs apartment in a four-plex house. My 'gaydar' went off the moment I laid eyes on him. Short of stature but physically fit; longish blonde hair, and he was wearing a faggoty floral shirt and way-too-short, white nylon gym shorts.

He was a cute boy, and when the sunlight hit him in a certain way, he could be mistaken for a pretty girl. I almost felt sorry for him -- with his looks, the kid never stood a chance at being 'normal.'

Yeah, the boy is definitely a butt muncher, I thought when he gave me a limp-wristed handshake. He's a real sissy who probably loves to take it up the ass...and with those full and pouty lips of his, it was easy picturing him on his knees with a rock-hard dick sliding in-and-out of his dainty, greedily sucking mouth. Timmy looked like he was BORN to be a cock gobbler!

Once I was finished unloading the car, the kid brought beers outside and we drank them on the front porch. We sat side-by-side on the small porch swing and it made me uneasy. I was wearing navy blue gym shorts and the smooth flesh of his hairless leg and thigh kept brushing against my own leg.

I want to make this crystal clear: it wasn't my fault I sprung a boner. The kid's unnaturally soft skin rubbing on my thigh felt more like a girl than a guy. Any red-blooded, hetero man would have popped a woody!

***

Over the next couple weeks, Timmy kinda grew on me. The constant attention was flattering, but his cooking was the real reason I let the little fairy hang out with me. Well, his cooking AND the endless supply of the free elixir he kept feeding me, hahahaha....

Early on though, I made damn sure he was aware of my feelings towards butt-huggers and pole-munchers.

One night we were laughing so hard he placed his hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Whoa boy - I'm not THAT way!" I firmly said to him.

"What way is THAT?" he asked with an odd, crooked smile.

I replied in no uncertain terms : "If you want to be a brownie queen that's YOUR business -- but don't think for a moment I'm going to let you play with MY dick, understand me boy?"

His eyes shot darts at me and he mumbled, "Yeah, sure, whatever...." but I knew I'd made my point.

It was around this time the insomnia started. I never had a sleeping problem in my life but suddenly I just couldn't fall asleep. Nothing helped - not even masturbation. Well, that's not entirely true, heh-heh-heh. If I stroke-out three loads instead of the usual one I'll drift off to sleep like a baby.

Anyway, Timmy was aware of my problem and one night offered me a sleeping pill.

"Johnny, this thing will knock-out a horse!" he said handing me the pill. "Take it an hour before you go to bed and I guarantee you'll sleep like a baby -- you might even wet the bed!Hahahahaha...there's one little problem though...."

"And that is?" I asked.

"Well," he said, avoiding eye contact with me, "you might have some crazy dreams -- dreams that don't make any sense at all...."

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "What kind of dreams?"

He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Sex dreams -- wild and crazy, uninhibited sex dreams!"

I smiled at him and said, "What's wrong with sex dreams? Heck, I fantasize about sex 99% of the day EVERY day, hahahahaha...."

He didn't laugh. He didn't even break a smile. "That may be so, but you've NEVER had sex dreams like these before!"

Timmy was right about those dreams. Not only are they wild and crazy, but dark and deeply disturbing as well. I am so confused and ashamed when I wake up I have to tell myself "It was only a dream, John, it was only a dream!"

EPILOGUE

Sometimes when we're watching television before bedtime, I catch Timmy gazing at me instead of the tv. and he always has that goofy grin on his face that makes me want to scream "WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" but I don't say anything at all.

Tonight was no different. Fifteen-minutes after I swallowed the sleeping pill I see him staring at me. This time though I had the nerve to say something to him.

"What? What are you looking at?" I barked at him.

He fired back: "What the hell are you talking about? You're not getting all paranoid on me, are you?"

"You're always looking at me - why do you keep staring at me?" I persisted.

He cleared his throat, looked me in the eyes and said, "WOW -- someone has a mighty high opinion of himself, doesn't he? I'm keeping an eye on you in case you fall on the floor and pass out again -- I'm only trying to help!"

I felt my face burn red as I feebly apologized to him. "Sorry, sorry...that damn pill is making me groggy already. I don't know what I'm saying - I know you're only trying to help...thank you."

"You're very welcome," he said. "I'm only looking out for you..."

Suddenly we heard three sharp raps on my front door but before I could react, Timmy shouted, "COME IN."

Huh? Why would HE tell MY visitor to 'come in'? I wondered.

Timmy turned to me and said, "I invited Rocco to watch tv with us, if it's all right with you?"

"Oh, uhhhh, sure...." I said thru the thickening haze and fog in my head.

***

When my eyes popped open the next morning the first thought in my head was: God, I wish these awful dreams would stop! Why do I keep having them -- they're horrible -- they are immoral, unnatural and downright disgusting - and the one last night was the worst one yet!

I could see it so clearly in my minds-eye it made me shiver. It was like it actually happened!

Timmy and I are sitting on the sofa watching tv. There's knocking on the door and the next thing I know, our neighbor, Rocco, is standing before us and he's blocking my view of the television. I try to form the words to tell him nicely to move out of my way but nothing comes out of my mouth.

"Is he ready yet?" I hear Rocco ask Timmy.

Ready for what? I wonder. What is he talking about?

Timmy replies, "Not quite -- very soon -- make yourself comfortable."

The cushion beside me gives off a barely audible 'whoosh' when Rocco sits down. I am so confused as to why he's here I cannot speak.

We watch television in silence for a few minutes before I hear him ask Timmy: "Does he know what's been going on the past few nights?"

I heard Timmy chuckle and say, "Doesn't have a clue...."

I wanted to scream: "I'M SITTING RIGHT HERE -- I CAN HEAR YOU BOTH TALKING!!" but again, nothing comes out of my mouth.

Another five-minutes go by and Timmy plops down next to me on the sofa and says to Rocco: "He might be ready to go now...." and suddenly places a hand on my leg and gently massages my upper thigh.

He see's the small bulge suddenly spring alive in my crotch, brazenly reaches for it and gives it a firm squeeze and laughs out loud. "Oh yeah, he's ready now!"

Those were the last coherent words I heard. I could feel my brain melting into a pool of molten goo. I was conscious and alert, but unable to speak or even move a muscle on my own.

Suddenly Rocco was standing close in front of me unbuttoning his shirt.

Why is he taking off his shirt? I wondered.

When he began opening his pants I wondered if maybe I should get undressed too but waited for him to speak.

He now wore only boxers, and I couldn't tear my eyes from the obscene, manly bulge poking out the thin material of his undies. Is that thing real? I wondered.

I heard him laughing again as though he could read my mind, and in one swift move he pushed his boxers down to the floor and stood naked before me, his long and stiff manly penis pointing straight at my face.

Now what do I do? I asked myself. I shouldn't be be looking at that thing, should I?

Try as I might, I couldn't look away from his seven-incher -- it was almost twice as big as mine and the slit was oozing a small stream of pre-cum.

"What do you think you're doing?" I heard Timmy ask Rocco.

"Hey, I won the coin flip fair and square," answered Rocco. "I get to fuck him first!"

"Wait a minute, won't he know we both fucked him when he wakes up? Won't his pussy be sore as hell?" asked Timmy.

Huh? 'We both fucked him'? 'His pussy sore as hell'? What are they talking about? Something isn't right here!

"Look, we've got four-hours to stick our dicks in his mouth and ass before he wakes up - after that we need to decide what we want to do with him."

"What we want to do with him? What does that mean?" asked Timmy.

Yeah, I wondered too: what DOES that mean?

"You do know that giving someone an aphrodisiac against their will is illegal, right?"

Huh? They gave me a WHAT??

"Of course it is..." replied Timmy.

"Well, he's gonna be awfully mad when he finally figures out what we've been doing to him -- he might even call the cops on us!" said Rocco.

"I didn't think of that...we can't be arrested, we'd lose our jobs...we better stop doing this to him," declared Timmy.

"Relax, here's what we'll do..." Rocco softly said with an evil smirk on his face, "...we all take a week off of work and stay home...we feed him pills and keep him docile and obedient and my guess is within a week we'll have the bitch completely broken and trained...we'll make him our permanent slut and he'll never know what we did to him!"

Huh? What did he say about me?

"Hmmmmmmm...." hummed Timmy.

I thought: Good, Timmy's thinking about it -- he's my friend, he wouldn't let Rocco do that to me!

I couldn't believe my ears when I heard Timmy proclaim: "Let's do it -- let's make him our bitch!" and when I opened my mouth to cry out in protest little Timmy slid his hard dick between my lips I forgot about everything else and began to suck on it like a lollipop.

It makes no sense at all....

The Homosexual Agenda

Johnny:

The faggots who live upstairs from me were at it again last night. No surprise, I've had to listen to them in bed every night since I moved into the house a week ago.

They must have one of those old fashioned beds with springs because I can hear the squeak-squeak-squeaking of the springs when they're having their queer sex. It gets so loud I can't fall asleep until I 'rub-one-out' if you know what I mean.

I'm an open-minded guy - I don't care what fruits and fudge-packers do in the privacy of their bedrooms, but c'mon guys, is it fair for you to force me to listen to your homosexual perversions every night?

I've only met one of the fags, Billy, and I'm sure he's the 'girl' in that relationship. You know what I mean, the sissy who goes down on his more masculine boyfriend, hahahahahaha....he's so delicate and pretty, it's easy imagining him on his knees with a dick sliding in-and-out between his full, pouty lips, or picturing him bending over, squealing like a little girl as a real man buries his bone deep inside the boy's deliciously tight pussy....