Unfinished Business Ch. 02

I shyly said, "Uhhh, thanks for the drink, mister..."

He flashed me a big, beautiful smile and said to me, "If you want to thank me properly, boy -- follow me outside!"

And so I did...

It's Only a Fantasy

I got home late but my roommate Mike and his girlfriend Margaret were still awake and making out on the living room sofa. Good God, my friend's hard-on was out in the open and Maggie was jerking him off.

"Ooops, sorry sweetie," she said to me and abruptly pulled her hand from his crotch leaving his manly-looking dick pointing straight upwards. "My hand is getting awfully tired - maybe you wanna do this for me? Hahahahahahaha..."

Why does she always have to make fag jokes at my expense? What have I ever done to make her think I'm queer?

"Noooooo, that's okay," I said and quickly looked away from his dick.

They scrambled to fix their clothes in place then Maggie asked me, "No luck at the bar tonight, sweetie?"

"No, not tonight," I softly replied.

"Why don't you let me set you up with my girlfriend?" she asked, "Jeez Johnny, it breaks my heart when you come home alone every night!"

"I'm fine -- I'm fine...don't worry about me," I told her. "I lied -- I DID get lucky tonight...I met a pretty girl and we hit it off..."

"Sure, of course you met a g-i-r-l, Johnny..."

I hate it when people patronize me. "No, really...she even came out to my car and we made out!"

"She didn't do a very good job, did she, Johnny?" Margaret said with that unnerving smile of hers. She pointed directly at my crotch and added, "Lookee, you still have a boner!"

I am sooooooooo tired of defending my sexuality to my family and friends. I've never done a homo thing in my life yet a lot of them think I'm a fag - it's very frustrating!

I blushed a deep red and softly exclaimed, "I'm going to bed..."

* * * * *

There wasn't going to be any sleep until I took care of my little problem so I shoved my briefs to my knees, wrapped my fingers around my hard-on and slowly began jerking it.

Damn, the fantasy of me banging Maggie wasn't going to do the job for me tonight so I had to switch to old faithful -- instead of Maggie, I saw my own head bobbing up-and-down my best friend's hard cock...

Every night when I jerk-off I tell myself it's only a fantasy - it's only a fantasy - it's only a fantasy - it's only a fantasy...

First of the Month

"You promised if I did what you wanted no one would ever find out!" I said to him incredulously. "You said if I did that for you you'd loan me the rent money and it would be OUR secret!"

"...and I WILL lend you the money -- and yes, it is OUR secret," he calmly said.

"But you said it would be a one-time thing!" I protested.

"Well, yeah, I did say that, but I didn't know you'd be so good at it! What's the big deal? I'm still not going to tell anyone and you only have to do it for me -- nobody else -- just me!"

"BUT I'M NOT GAY!" I said too loudly, and immediately looked around to see if anyone had heard me. Of course not, we were alone on the front porch.

"Oh sweetie, don't get your panties in a bunch, hahahahaha..."

"What's funny about THAT?" I asked the little homo.

"I made a joke about your undies, cutie," he chuckled, "don't you get it?"

My face turned purple with rage. "How many times do I have to tell you? I am NOT a sissy like you! For the last time: I don't wear PANTIES -- they are MEN'S string, bikini cotton briefs---"

He interrupted me: "Sure-sure...you buy them in the men's department, blah-blah-blah..." he said then abruptly stood, winked at me and said, "All this talk about your sexy little undies has given me a boner...come on, let's go around the house so you can take care of it for me."

I shook my head in disbelief. It was like he hadn't heard a single thing I said.

I lowered my voice and angrily said, "I'm not taking care of anything for you, you little faggot!"

The sudden change of expression on his face sent a cold chill throughout my body.

"I've been nothing but nice to you, sweetie, and this is how you talk to me? What do you suppose your born-again, nut-bag-of-a-father will do when he finds out you're queer?"

In my loudest whisper, I snarled at him, "I-AM--NOT--QUEER...and stop calling me 'sweetie'!"

He stared deep into my eyes and slowly said, "Ohhh, but after I sit down with your dad and tell him what a wonderful little homo lover-boy you are what do you think he'll say then?"

His words hit me like a hard SMACK to the face. He wouldn't dare lie to my father, would he?

I know darn well what my ultra-religious, homophobic father would do if he thought his only son was a fag. An involuntary shudder raced up and down my spine.

Billy jumped off the porch, turned to me and said, "I'll give you one last chance to convince me NOT to tell your dad..." and disappeared into the chilly darkness beside the house.

* * * * *

I went further with Little Billy last night than I'd intended, but didn't burst into flames or go straight to hell like my father warned would happen if I 'lay with another man.'

We weren't struck by lightning bolts or pitch forks, and demons didn't swirl-in and whisk us off to homo-hell, no, the only 'divine retribution' I suffered were sticky hands and an odd after-taste in my mouth.

"You know, sweetie, that was a pretty good blowjob for your first time," he said gasping for air.

Oh gawwwd, please stop talking -- please stop talking -- please stop talking...

"...outside of not swallowing ALL of my jizz you did just fine...but don't worry your pretty little head over anything, sweetie, in a couple days I'll have you trained to gobble down every drop of cum I spurt in your mouth...now be a dear and lick my penis clean!"

"No-no-no," I protested, "...you said it would be a one-time thing -- you said if I went down on you you'd lend me the rent money...you promised if I did that for you you wouldn't say a word to anyone -- ESPECIALLY my dad!"

He smiled, patted my head like I was a child, and said, "Ohhh sweetie -- it's sooo cute that you actually believed me! Hahahahaha...you do realize there are still three more days before the rent is due, right? Three l-o-n-g days and nights for you to convince me to lend you the money...now be a good little boy and do what you're told -- clean my cock with your tongue, or I swear to God I'll tell everyone you know you're a closet queen!"

* * * * *

I don't know what I hate the most - being blackmailed by a sissy-queerboy or springing a boner whenever he orders me to perform a homo-sex act for him. Either way, it's totally emasculating!

I keep telling myself that Billy is the faggot -- not me...I went so far as to research it on the internet.

The article said it's perfectly natural for a straight boy like me to get a hard-on in ANY intimate situation no matter who he is with -- woman OR man...no, an erection is a biological response to stimulation, that's all it is...you're only a faggot if you have 'emotional feelings' for another guy, and believe me, the only emotional feelings I have for Billy right now are anger and resentment.

* * * * *

I admit I was nervous when I saw Billy sitting on the front porch when I got home from work on rent day. I hate confrontation and this was going to be a doozy!

I'd rehearsed in my head the arguments I'd make and they were solid and logical.

Number one: I'm not gay, and since I'm not a fagboy like he is why in the world would he want a relationship with ME? Number two: our landlord, Mister Pappadapolis, has made it very clear he doesn't approve of 'queerboys', as he calls them, and would NEVER rent them an apartment! Number three: My dad isn't in very good health, and he once told me if he thought his only son was 'light-in-the-loafers' it would kill him! And number four: I'M NOT FRIGGING GAY!

So I'm slowly strolling up the sidewalk to the house wondering if he's going to lend me rent money like he said he would. When I see that stupid, shit-eating grin on his face I get a bad feeling. Uh-oh, why is he smiling at me?

I tell myself: Stick to your guns, John, don't back down! He can't MAKE you do anything you don't WANT to do!

He suddenly calls out in a loud and clear faggoty voice: "Hiya, loverboy, how was work today?"

I blushed fifty shades of red and looked all around to see if someone else heard him -- no, thank God we were alone.

"We have to talk, Billy," I nervously said to him.

He stood and said, "Sure thing, sweetie-pie, but let's talk inside OUR apartment!"

I stopped frozen in my tracks. HUH? What did he say?

I watched him come down off the porch and walk right up to me -- close to me -- face-to-face with me.

He suddenly took my head in his hands, leaned in and kissed me full on the mouth. Thank goodness it was a short kiss because I was so stunned I couldn't push him away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I angrily asked him.

"I missed you, lover, it's been a long day here without you," he said with that eerie smile still plastered on his face.

"Goddammit, Billy, stop it -- you're creeping me out...and don't call me 'lover'!" I emphatically said to him.

His smile never wavered. "Oh lover, you're in a bad mood...it didn't go so well at work today?"

What the hell is going on here? Why is he acting like this?

"It doesn't matter, lover," he said, "I'll pour you a big glass of wine when we're inside OUR apartment!"

HUH? Did he just say 'OUR' apartment again?

"What are you talking about?" I suspiciously asked him.

"I solved your rent problem, sweetheart, I moved ALL your things into my place today...we're going to live together from now on -- isn't that wonderful?"

My eyes bugged wide. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight. Icy shivers raced up and down my spine and I became so apoplectic my face turned purple with rage.

"WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO THAT?" I angrily shouted at him. "I'M NOT LIVING WITH YOU!!!!"

That stupid smile remained fixed on his face, but there was something in his eyes that caused my heart to begin pounding with fear...even his smile suddenly looked sinister.

"Oh, so you came up with rent money for Mister Pappadapolis?" he asked me.

And there it was plain and simple. Reality reared it's ugly head. He knew darn well I didn't have rent money, and even worse, he knew I had zero options - there was literally no other place for me to go anywhere in the city.

Busted

I couldn't believe my good luck when I opened the last box of the shipment. There they were on top: the lime-green nylon panties that would complete my collection. I sprung a boner the instant I took them in my hands and caressed the soft and smooth material.

My heart pounded as I looked all around to see if I was alone. When I didn't see anyone, I shoved the panties into my pocket and went back to work unloading the box and placing the other sexy undies on the shelf in the stockroom.

By the time I was done handling the sexy panties, I had a raging hard-on and could feel the pre-cum leaking from my slit. It took every bit of self-control I could muster-up to not whip out my hard dick and stroke it with the smooth and sleek panties.

Yeah, okay, I'm not proud of it but I have jerked-off at work before. I mean, what the heck were they thinking when they assigned ME to 'Ladies Lingerie'? I'm only human.

* * * * *

WHEW -- that last hour of work dragged on forever! My brain was dizzy with lust -- my heart beat faster-and-faster. All I could think of was sliding my brand new nylon panties up my legs into place and flopping down on my bed and grinding my panty-covered dick into the mattress.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh, when I get home my orgasms are going to be spectacular! I'll fill my new panties with so much jizz I'll have to soak them in the sink overnight!

There was only one flaw in my plan - getting the undies past security on the way out the door.

For the past week, the men have had to empty their pockets and the women their purses so security could make sure no one is stealing from the department store. We all think it's insulting the company doesn't trust us.

The closer it got to quitting time the more frantic I became. If I didn't think of a way of getting the undies past security I'd have to leave them behind, and I sure as heck wasn't going to do that!!

It was like a light-bulb suddenly switched-on inside my head. The answer was so easy I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before now. All I have to do is 'wear' them out of the building. They rarely do strip-searches, and when they do it's only for employees who work in the Computer/Electronics department -- a brilliant idea!

So a few minutes before the end of my shift I went to the department's restroom, double-checked the lock, and hurriedly took off my slacks and tighty-whities. I pulled my new panties up into place and put on my slacks. My briefs already had slight tears in them so it was easy to rip them to shreds and flush 'em down the toilet.

Damn, the nylon rubbing my dick gave me a stiffy. I panicked and looked down at my crotch to see how noticeable it was, and well, I didn't see a bulge -- not even a lump. This was one of those few times having a small dick worked to my advantage.

There were twenty people ahead of me in the security line, and for some reason the line was moving slower than normal. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. The nylon felt so good my boner just wouldn't go down. I casually covered my crotch with my hands.

"JOHNNY, OVER HERE!" I heard the voice of my boss call out.

NOOOOOOO, I'M BUSTED!!!!

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I looked and saw Mrs. Vonn motioning for me to join her in the much shorter Managers Line.

She pushed me in front of her, smiled and said, "C'mon kid, you worked hard today -- you deserve a break!"

"Oh, uh, thanks Mrs V," I said trying to remain calm while hanging my hands in front of my crotch.

Glucinda the Troll was working the managers line. That's what we all called her anyway. Short, squat, and a face only a mother could love. She was waving the 'magic wand' over everyone in her line.

"Any plans for your days off, John?" asked Mrs V.

She is such a nice woman, I thought. She treats everyone with respect no matter how low you are on the seniority list. Not bad to look at either for an old broad. I mean, she's gotta be pushing forty!

We made small talk while inching our way to the front of the line. I was in the process of explaining my weekend plans to her when suddenly a high-pitched, godawful noise blasted everyone's ears.

Mrs V gave me the strangest look. I whipped my head around to see Glucinda the Troll waving the security wand up and down the front of my body and OH-MY-GOD-NOOOOOO -- I was the one setting off the security alarm.

"That's a mistake," my boss told the security guard. "Do it again!"

The Troll moved the wand up and down me one more time, very slowly, and when it passed my crotch the damn alarm went off again.

Glucinda turned to my boss and said, "Mrs Vonn, we're going to have to take your employee in the room for a closer inspection!"

"Okay," she replied, "but I'm coming, too -- I'm sure there's an innocent explanation for this..."

I was led into a small, windowless room followed by Mrs V.

Glucinda said, "This 'll only take a few seconds - please drop your slacks, son."

I became dizzy. I couldn't move. I was gripped with such abject fear I saw my life flashing before my eyes.

My boss said, "Johnny, I know you're shy but the company has the legal right to require a 'personal inspection' -- just do what she wants and we'll be out of here in a jiffy!"

There was no way out. None. It felt as though I was dreaming when I unfastened my slacks, lowered the zipper, and pushed them down to my knees.

I heard Mrs Vonn gasp in surprise and Glucinda the Troll laughing. I was grateful my hard-on had subsided but when I looked down and saw the wet and glistening, silver dollar-sized semen stain on the lime-green panties, I wanted to run away and hide...all I could do though was stand between the two women with my head hung low in shame and humiliation.

* * * * *

When I got home I re-read the title of the piece of paper they had me sign: "Suspension Pending Investigation" and wondered what there was to investigate? They'd caught me red-handed (more like red-faced) wearing panties I had stolen from our department.

I didn't WANT an investigation. What was there to investigate? They'd had me stand there with my slacks on the floor around my ankles while they snapped what I considered to be more photos than they needed to take -- I'm guilty - case closed -- no one else needs to know about this!

On the third day, I received a text from Mrs Vonn asking me to come and see her. I didn't want to face her again, but I had to file for unemployment as fast as possible and needed her to sign-off on it.

She seemed to be in a pretty good mood when I went into her office. She smiled, asked me how I was doing, and motioned me to sit in the chair across from her desk. She briefly glanced at the unemployment application I'd given her to sign.

She began, "So sweetie..." and I knew right away something was wrong -- she'd never called me anything but 'John' or 'Johnny' before...

"...what color panties are you wearing today?"

My face flushed a hot red.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist asking, hahahahahaha...John, I'm afraid I can't sign this because you were 'terminated for cause' -- that means you're not eligible to receive unemployment compensation."

It was like she stuck a dagger in my heart. My hands began trembling. I NEEDED the money BAD...I didn't have much in my savings account.

She continued: "You probably know better, but don't use us as a reference for another job, either..."

Uh-oh, this is NOT good - it's the only real job I've had -- what do I do now?

"I'll be honest with you, sweetie," she said, "the company is considering filing theft charges against you -- they want to make an example out of you to the other employees!"

HOLY CRAP -- this is getting worse by the minute...

"Now I think you're basically a good boy...you're an excellent worker -- you never called-off and were always early for work...I just think your abnormal fetish for women's panties got the best of you..."

I silently pleaded: Please stop saying 'panties' -- please stop saying 'panties' -- please stop saying 'panties...'

"I need to write your evaluation and I want you to be totally honest with me, okay?" she said.

"Y-Yes, Mrs Vonn," I softly answered.

"Was this the first time you stole from the company?" she asked me.

Oh-no, now what do I say?

I stuttered, "Well, uh, I, uhhhh..."

She grew impatient and snarled at me: "Answer my questions, boy, or I WILL call the police!"

Oh-gawwwd..."Yes, maam -- sorry maam!"

"Have you stole anything besides panties?" she asked again.

"No, maam," I quickly said as though stealing only women's undies somehow didn't make me a thief.

"How many pairs of panties have you stolen?" she asked.

When I didn't reply, she became angry. "Okay, I gave you a chance -- we're going to press charges against you---"

"TEN," I blurted out. I wondered if she noticed how badly my hands were shaking?

I could tell by her raised eyebrows she thought ten was a pretty high number.

"What on earth do you do with ten pairs of women's panties?" she sternly asked me.

Oh-gawwwwd, I certainly can't tell her THAT!!!

A wide smile suddenly crossed her pretty face. "You masturbate with the panties, don't you, boy?"

I blinked away tears of embarrassment as I reluctantly nodded my head.

The smile remained fixed on her lips.

"Do you stroke your dick with the panties, or do you actually wear them when you masturbate?"