My Fantasies Ch. 09

He excitedly exclaimed: "I know, right? I thought we had a deal: he said 'If you do me I'll do you' but he LIED to me!"

I put my arm around my friend and said, "I don't know why you keep falling for that line -- you should know better by now."

"I know I should but I take people at their word," he said.

"Yes you do -- you're a very trusting person," I said.

"I am, but it doesn't do me any good," he replied.

Okay, I thought, I've got him right where I want him - it's time to make my move.

"What if I said, 'If you do me I'll do you' -- would you trust ME?" I asked him.

He blushed a deep red, averted his eyes and said, "Oh stop it -- you're not even gay!"

"No, but I'm not homophobic, either...to me a handjob is a handjob -- I don't care who does it for me," I said to him with a smile.

He furrowed his brow. I could see he was confused. He stuttered, "I'm not sure what you're saying here..."

I looked him in the eyes, and slowly said to him, "I promise - I'll do you if you do me!"

"No you won't...." he said.

"I most certainly will," I replied. "I'll say it again: I promise if you open my pants, take out my cock and make me cum -- I'll do it for you too!"

His face turned beet-red as he warily stared at me. He timidly said, "Are you sure? You're not just saying that, are you?"

I frowned and said, "You don't believe me? That's insulting!"

"I'm sorry but I've already been burned once today...how do I know you'll really do it for me, too?" he asked.

"You know what -- forget about it. I just thought two friends could give each other a little stress relief, that's all...if you don't trust me maybe we're not as close as I thought we were!"

"No-no, I'm sorry, I do trust you -- we ARE close friends - it's just that----"

I loudly interrupted him. "It's just nothing -- either we're friends or we're not...we either trust each other or we don't!"

"I know -- I know, but this is really weird -- I don't know what to do," he stammered.

"It's simple: take out my cock and stroke it until I cum and then I'll do it for you too...c' mon, Timmy, take it out for me - I'm getting hornier than hell!"

I swear I saw tears welling in his eyes as he leaned over and unbuckled my belt. My hard prick began throbbing and oozing pre-cum. When he opened my slacks and lowered the zipper, I lifted my hips to help him tug down my pants.

He had hooked his fingers in my boxers too so when my boner popped out into our view I heard a sharp intake of his breath and he muttered, "Oh my goodness...."

I had him right where I wanted him. In a minute or so I'd have the little sissy giving me a handjob!

"It's so small I'm kinda embarrassed," I jokingly said of my own dick knowing full-well he would contradict me.

He paused for two-seconds and said, "Yeah, it really is tiny -- it reminds me of my dick when I was twelve-years-old!"

Huh? What did he say? I was trying to wrap my brain around his comment while out of the corner of my eye I saw him opening his own slacks.

Oh my God, what's he doing? The little fairy is taking out his boner -- it's not supposed to happen this way.

"Look at mine," he said waving his hard cock at my shocked eyes."Now this is what a REAL man's dick looks like!"

Huh? What does he mean by that?

He positioned himself so our boners were side-by-side and said, "WOW -- look how much smaller yours is compared to mine!"

OUCH -- HOW RUDE!! I didn't want to look at another guys dick but there it was right before my eyes and sure, his was maybe two-three inches longer than mine, but so what? I was growing increasingly horny and impatient and took his hand and placed it on my boner.

I moaned loudly so he could hear. "Ohhhhhhh, that feels wonderful!"

He squeezed my hard prick then abruptly pulled his hand away and said, "How do I really know you'll do me after I do you?"

"I give you my word," I gasped.

"I dunno...." he softly said.

Gawwwwd, my dick was throbbing so hard I knew once he took it in his hand I wouldn't last more than three shakes.

"Pleeeeeezzzzzzzzzzz, Timmy," I pleaded with him.

"But you haven't touched mine yet," he whined. "Touch it, Johnny, touch it for me, okay?"

I can't do that, I thought. I've never touched a guys dick in my life and I'm not gonna start now!

His warm breath in my ear sent delicious shivers up-and-down my spine. "You made my cock hard, Johnny, feel it -- I won't tell anyone -- I promise no one will ever know if you take it in your hand...make me cum, Johnny -- I'll do you after you do me...."

I'm pretty sure I began stroking his dick just to stop hearing his annoying begging...that and I wanted to cum so badly the fine line between normal sex and homo sex became blurred to me.

I couldn't believe how hot his cock felt in my hand. It caused my own boner to throb and my balls to swell. I was oblivious he'd quit touching me and was simply sitting back taking his pleasure from my hands.

I think I reached the point of no return when he began moaning. The animal-like noises escaping from deep within his throat made my head spin and sent me reeling into a sexual blackout. I lost all control and stroked his wonderful, manly cock harder and faster - harder and faster - harder and faster...and when he cried out and his body began lurching and jumping and bucking I watched the sperm and semen explode from his purple cockhead and come splashing down on my hands and wrists.

The moment his body came to rest I was gasping for air and I whined "It's my turn, Timmy...do me now -- do me now!!!" but the damn little homo said without a trace of a smile, "Maybe tomorrow -- be here same time -- same place" and he left me sitting alone with my dick in my hand and my balls full of cum.

The Landlord's New Bride

So I was sitting on the sofa in my landlord's apartment waiting to pay rent. He had been on the phone when he opened the door and motioned for me to sit. It was my first time inside the apartment since the day we signed the lease. My roommate, Mike, had been paying our rent money to him since then, but yesterday he said the old man gave him the creeps so I volunteered to do it myself. I took out Mike's 600-dollar check and my own and placed them on the coffee table in front of me.

There were some magazines piled neatly on the coffee table. I had to smile to myself. Who bought magazines anymore when you can see anything you want on the internet? I could overhear Mister Z's conversation from the dining room and it sounded like he might be talking for awhile so I began browsing thru the magazines.

There was a news magazine, two entertainment mags, a Golf Illustrated and below that a glossy magazine cover with the title 'Boys from Brazil.' The photo showed a group of guys playing volleyball on a beach somewhere - probably in Brazil, huh? It seemed so out of place with the other mags I picked it up and stared at the cover.

The 'Boys from Brazil' were all smiling and having a good time playing on the beach but what really caught my attention were their skimpy swim trunks. My goodness, their trunks were so small and tight-fitting they left very little to the imagination.

Yes, I checked-out their bulges but only because I always do -- that doesn't sound right, does it? Let me explain: I'm kinda insecure about my 'size' down there, and I hate to admit it, but sometimes -- and it's strictly out of curiosity, sometimes I steal glances at men's crotches to see how I 'measure-up' to them. Unfortunately, nine-times out-of-ten I don't feel any better about myself afterwards.

So anyway, I looked over my shoulder and couldn't see Mister Z so I flipped open the magazine and looked at the photos. All the men were good-looking and perfect specimens you only see on physical fitness websites. You know what I'm talking about: hard bodies with sculpted chests, manly muscles and unreal 'packages' obscenely bulging out their gym shorts. There were a few photos where I could see the actual outlines of flaccid dicks pressing against the thin fabric of their shorts.

Okay, I thought, this isn't so weird. I'm sure there are a lot of reasons an old guy like Mister Z would have a magazine like this one on his coffee table, but when I opened it to a random page HOLY CRAP -- the swim trunks were gone -- all of the men were naked, and not only that, but - OH-MY-HELL -- they all had hard-ons - why in the world would a bunch of guys playing beach volleyball have boners? It doesn't make any sense!

I suddenly felt Mister Z's strong hands on my shoulders from behind. He leaned in and whispered, "Aren't they beautiful?" and he gently began massaging my neck and shoulders.

I was so startled by his touch my body would have literally leapt off the sofa if the old man's hands hadn't been holding me down.

"I love staring at those photos, too," he continued whispering. "Look at all those hard and manly cocks on such young and pretty boys -- aren't they beautiful?"

I suddenly realized I'd been gawking at the photos a few seconds too long and defensively answered, "Well, uhhhh, not really - maybe if you're 'into' that kinda thing they are...."

Mister Z ignored my comment and pointed to a photo and said, "Look at the cock on that boy -- it's HUGE, isn't it?"

I cringed at his crude comment but couldn't resist looking at the photo. I was thinking 'WOW, how could a boy that size -- MY SIZE - have a dick that big?' but I couldn't say that out loud!

I shook the fog from my head, pointed at our checks on the table and said, "Here's our rent money" and tried to stand to leave but one of the old man's hands held me in place.

Mister Z simply turned the page of the magazine and exclaimed, "I simply l-o-v-e this photo!"

When I looked, my face turned a deep crimson. It was a closeup of one of the boys on his knees with the head of the man's monster cock mere inches from the boys open mouth.

I wasn't thrilled when I sprung a boner but told myself, 'Relax John, it's a normal reaction to looking at porn.'

Mister Z suddenly came around the sofa and sat close beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. Alarm bells went off in my head. I again tried to stand but he wouldn't let me.

"You and I should talk," he said.

My brain was turning somersaults - I couldn't think of anything to say. There wasn't anything TO say!

"What if you and I come to an agreement, and I only take your roommates rent check?" he said sounding all business-like. "You could save yourself 600-dollars a month."

I had an idea what the dirty old man wanted in return. My eyes were riveted to the photo of the big cock and the pretty boy's parted lips. I softly said, "I can't do that...."

Mister Z saw where I was looking and replied, "You don't have to do THAT -- all I want are your hands...."

My hands? What does that mean? OHHHHH...

The old man grunted as he lifted up off the sofa. I thought he was going to stand but he stopped mid-way, opened his slacks and pushed down his slacks and boxers then sat back down next to me. I was suddenly staring at his hard cock jutting straight up from his crotch.

I was incredulous. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I cried out.

"If you take it in your hands and jack me off, cutie," whispered the old man, "I'll only take your roommates rent check!"

I was appalled. The old man was WAYYYYY out of line!

"NO WAY IN HELL - I can't do that," I said, "...someone will find out and blab it to everyone in the building!"

I was sorry the moment it came out of my mouth. It sounded like I would be willing to give him a handjob if no one else knew about it.

He immediately seized on my mistake and countered, "I certainly won't say anything to anyone -- will you? People will only find out if YOU tell them!"

I used the only other excuse I could think of and emphatically said, "I'm not queer!"

I thought he'd be mad at me but instead he started laughing and said, "Queer? What has that got to do with anything? I'm not queer -- you're not queer - Jesus H Christ, it's only a handjob we're talking about here! What's your problem, boy?"

Only a handjob? ONLY A HANDJOB?? That's like saying Tom Cruise is ONLY an actor! Or Tom Brady is ONLY a quarterback!!! Taking another guys cock in your hand is monumental -- a complete game-changer!

His strong arm held me close to him. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and I felt his hot breath in my ear.

"600-dollars..." he whispered. "600-dollars...600-dollars...600-dollars...600-dollars...."

I remained frozen in place. He took hold of my hand. "600-dollars...600-dollars...600-dollars...."

I felt the heat from his cock on my hand. "600-dollars...600-dollars...600-dollars...."

He forced my fingers around the wide girth of his manly erection and began moving my hand up-and-down on his hot flesh. Up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...up-and-down...

His body suddenly stiffened and he cried out, "Faster-faster-faster-FASTER-FASTER-FASTER-FASTER...."

My hand moved so rapidly it became an up-and-down blur on his throbbing cock. I was mesmerized watching in fascination the sperm and semen shooting out of his bulbous cockhead. My own briefs were wet with pre-cum.

When his body came to rest and his cock went flaccid in my sticky hand he again kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear.

"That was real good for your first time, cutie...you're only going to get better-and-better with more experience...."

I had just masturbated a sixty-year-old man but felt strangely at peace with myself. I'll always know what I did for him and he'll always know what I did for him but like the old saying goes, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it does it make a sound?

Wait a minute -- did he just say I'll get better with more experience?

***

I've been had -- Mister Z played a con game on me. The old prick used our rent checks against me. My hand was still wet with his jizz when I reached for the checks on the table but he snatched them up before I could.

I stared at him in disbelief. "But we had a deal," I protested.

"Did you really think I'd give you 600-dollars for a handjob?" he laughed at me. "How gullible ARE you?"

I sat in stunned silence as he yanked my shirt out of my slacks and used it to clean off his cum-drenched prick. I should have stopped him, or at least made an effort, but noooooo, I just sat there and watched him drying off his limp dick with my own shirt.

"You can go now, boy, I'm finished with you today," he said.

"B-B-But what about the check?" I stammered while staring at it on the table.

He paused and seemed to be thinking about what I'd said. He leaned forward and reached for the check. I breathed a sigh of relief. But, his hand bypassed the check and picked up the porn magazine instead. What the hell?

"Here," he said giving me the magazine, "...stare at all the big, beautiful cocks when you go home and jerk off the rest of the day!"

I was dumbfounded as he stood and walked away. His back was to me but I clearly heard him say, "Same time tomorrow and not one second late -- you understand me, boy?"

Huh? He has to be joking, right?

"UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?"

Ohhhh-myyyyyyyyyy...his manly, authoritarian tone of voice caused my pre-cum-oozing boner to pulsate and throb inside my already sticky briefs.

"Y-Y-Y-Yes, sir...." I breathlessly replied as I clutched the magazine and hurriedly returned to the privacy of my own apartment and bedroom.

Just One Look

"Do you like it, kid?" asked the guy standing at the urinal next to mine. "You wanna touch it?"

I had been alone in the men's room taking a leak when this guy comes in and stands at the urinal next to mine. There were ten pissers in there but he chose to do his business directly beside me. My heart began fluttering.

Anyway, I'm standing there staring at the wall straight ahead of me when out of the corner of my eye I could see the man extricate something long and fat from his slacks. I swear I didn't turn my head and look at it directly, it was in my peripheral vision.

Still staring at the wall before me, I softly answered, "Yes, I wanna touch it, but not in here."

I had long since stopped pissing and was just standing there holding my limp dick hoping he would proposition me. He'd caught my eye earlier when he came into the bar and sat across from me. Sure, he was older than dirt but quite handsome, and very well dressed.

I heard him cough and choke and when he regained his composure he said, "I'm gonna go back and finish my drink -- don't approach me or make eye contact with me -- when I leave the bar wait three minutes then go out the back door into the parking lot -- my Escalade is all the way on the right underneath the big oak tree -- climb into the passenger side back seat, open my pants and take out my cock! Do you understand me, boy?"

"Yessir," I enthusiastically replied. I love authoritarian-type men -- my boner throbs when they bark orders at me.

I also prefer older men - older men who can still get it up anyway. They are confident and self-assured and appreciate how lucky they are to have a little cutie like me playing with their dick and balls.

***

The guy had a nice one - maybe seven-inches long and not too thick that I couldn't wrap my fingers around the entire girth. I hate it when I have to use both hands to jerk-off a man - I like to have one hand free so I can fondle and massage their balls.

So anyway, I followed his instructions and twenty-minutes later inside his car my hand was moving up-and-down his rock hard cock so fast he turned into a whiny little bitch begging me to make him cum -- in other words, a typical man.

I have an SOP with first-timers, a 'standard operating procedure.' When I feel their balls begin to swell, I suddenly stop moving my hand on their dicks and say, "This is wrong -- I shouldn't be doing this!"

I know I shouldn't tease them but sometimes I just can't resist the fun. The myriad of reactions I get from the desperately horny men are priceless. They act like petulant children ranging from pleading and begging to cursing and threats. I hate to admit this, but their whining is a real turn-on for me.

And then, unfortunately, there are the guys who turn out to be like this one - mean, scary and vindictive.

So anyway, when I stopped moving my hand on his dick and said, "This is wrong -- I shouldn't be doing this!" his voice became an octave lower and quite menacing.

"I don't give a shit what you want, boy," he growled at me, "get your hands back on my cock and bring me off -- NOW!"

An icy chill raced up my spine. There's a time for flirty fun but this wasn't one of them. I took his hard cock in my hands and feverishly began to finish him off but he had another idea. His huge hand gripped the back of my neck so hard it hurt.

"To hell with your hands, kid, get down there and take it in your mouth -- I'm gonna blow my load down your throat!" he angrily said as he forced my face into his lap.

"B-B-But----" I tried to protest, but when I felt his bulbous cockhead against my tightly closed lips he squeezed my neck so hard tears began rolling down my cheeks.

"Open your mouth, fagboy, and start sucking!"

***

The man made good on his threat and the moment his dick finally went soft between my lips, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, roughly yanked my head upward and barked, "GET OUT!"

He sped off in his Escalade the second I closed the door leaving me alone on my unsteady legs to do the walk of shame back to my own car.

I could feel the wetness and knew I had a real mess down there. I'd intentionally worn black slacks so my jizz wouldn't show thru the pants but that didn't work out so well.

I became overwhelmed with the usual guilt and shame. Why can't I enjoy normal sex like everyone else?