Beginner's Luck
by
Roy Ackerman
"How's things, Brian?" It was Michael Armstrong, a neighbor, chatting with a stranger as I was going into my apartment house.
"Oh, OK, thanks." I didn't really want to talk about it. Women and I didn't seem to mix.
"Sorry to hear that. Hope it gets better. In the meantime, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. James, this is Brian, a neighbor. Brian, this is James."
Then I noticed his companion, a very stylishly dressed young man, James was, and if he wasn't gay I'd eat my hat, even without the diamond stud in one ear. He shook my hand, looked at me rather intently. I looked back, blushed, tried to look away and couldn't.
Michael said, "Well, I know you have to rush off, James. You two should get together sometime. I think you have a lot in common."
"Yes, of course. Another time , Brian"
He squeezed a little, let go, and departed. Michael and I went up together. In the elevator, he said:
"He likes you, Brian, I can tell."
"He seemed very nice."
"I think he feels more strongly than that. You probably do too, or you will. I'm sure he'll call you very soon. Goodnight."
I got out, went to my apartment, slightly disconcerted. How could anybody be so sure of feelings after two seconds? I made a snack, watched TV without attention, tried to read, and at intervals tried to shake off a disconcerted feeling about the encounter. I'd been propositioned by queers before and been able to cope. My attention was unfocussed; vague images of James floated in and out. I had a mild erection. I looked at the phone -- I didn't have his number, anyway, and what was I going to do? Bawl him out for making me uncomfortable? Did I want him to call? It was a long evening. Finally I went to bed, and to sleep.
I was woken by the phone ringing. I let the answering-machine pick up.
"Brian, it's James. We met this evening, remember. Please give me a ring at ..."
I lay in uneasy paralysis, unable to do anything but look at where the phone was, invisible in the darkness. After about ten minutes it rang again. Again I waited.
"Brian, James again. I'd like it very much if you called me. Don`t worry about how late it is; call me whatever time you get in."
Now, as I lay there, I knew it would ring again. This time, perversely, it was silent for over half an hour. Then --
"Brian, it's James. You've guessed by now that I'm powerfully attracted to you. I want to make love to you, very soon. I believe you're probably right there, so I'll use my most seductive voice. You're a virgin, aren't you? What fun for you! I wish I could persuade you to feel small and sleek and lithe and desirable, because that's how I think of you. I know you're waiting for me. I expect to see you soon."
After about ten minutes, another ring:
"Brian darling, please pick up. I know you're there; I can practically hear you breathing. You might as well pick up. Ill go away if you tell me to, but youre going to have to tell me. For my part, as you can tell, I`m panting to see you. Please, Brian, my lovers say I make love very nicely ...Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?"
I picked up. "'Lo, James."
"Brian, are you in bed? Of course you are, and looking very desirable."
"Yes."
"I'd say I was sorry, but I'm not. Why don't you just put on a raincoat and sneakers and come right down. I'm waiting in a taxi."
I hung up without a word and was in the cab, in a trance, inside five minutes. There James held my hand as we drove for a few minutes to his apartment house. In the little entrance hall of his apartment he helped me off with my raincoat, saying nothing, then took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom, which had a large bed with a black satin cover. There were mirrors everywhere. He led me to the bed, then knelt in front of me and removed my sneakers. Then, slowly, he pulled down the oversize boxer shorts which served me as pajamas. My prick sprang out. James cradled my balls, and kissed the head of my cock.
"Very nice, but later." He rose, and pushed me backwards so I sat on the bed. "Lie back, and watch yourself in the ceiling. Or watch me."
I lay back on my elbows and watched him. He pulled his white shirt over his head. He had a slim, nicely-muscled, hairless torso. He kicked off his shoes, then gracefully slid off his black pants and stood up. He wore a black silk thong, and looked wonderful. He looked at me steadily.
"You do want this? Time for saying no is running out. Say you want it. Or kiss my cock, that would be nice."
He stripped off his thong, and his cock sprang out. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed. I'd never seen a man's erect cock so close before. I leaned forward, grasped it, held it between my hands, and looked at it. Almost purple at the head, glistening, hairless, it was beautiful. I kissed it tenderly, cradled his balls, and then took his cock as far into my mouth as I could. He took my head between his hands, and pulled me forward, so that his cock went even further into my throat. Then he relaxed his grip, and pushed my shoulders back onto the bed.
"Time enough later for deep throat."
He knelt between my legs, and pushed them wide apart. Then he brought them closer and bent them back to my shoulders.
"What a lovely virgin pussy! May I have it?"
"Oh yes, James, it's all yours."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
"So lift it towards me, offer it to me."
So I did, straining my asshole to him. He slathered it with lubricant, inserted a finger, then two fingers, then three, massaging the anus. Then he put his hands beside my head and leaned forward. I reached my hands out, found his cock and guided it. I felt his cockhead at my hole, felt it pressing, felt the opening reluctantly and painfully giving way. The cock head burst through. It was so definite it should have been audible. I gasped.
"Relax and push." I tried to relax, and tried to push. On he came. I thought he could come no farther, but on he came. I was full to bursting. The pain was exquisite, but suddenly the pleasure was also exquisite. Which was which? It didn't matter. Then he withdrew most of the way, then came on again.
"Oh, James"
"Hush, little girl."
Harder and harder he thrust. We bucked together, clutching and gasping, until, with a final thrust we came, more or less together. We clung together for a few minutes, then I felt his penis shrinking and slipping. He slipt out, then kissed me tenderly and rolled off. He slithered down, and licked my stomach, cleaning up my cum. After a while I did the same to him, then took his limp penis in my mouth and cleaned it off.
"Just wanted to see what it tasted of."
"And?"
"Tastes of you, and of cum, and a little of shit."
"Brian, you're now a faggot. Say you're a faggot."
"I'm a faggot."
Long pause.
"James, do you shave?"
"Of course. And so should you, but not right now. I can give you the name of a place where they'll do the initial job very reasonably. They'll probably try to make out with you while they do it."
"I might like that."
"Not just yet. You're my faggot tonight. Do you know what I want to do now? You're my conquest, and I'd like to go to a bar I know, and drink to the occasion. Will you come? Everybody will know why you're there."
"I'd love to come, but I've no clothes. Anyway, I want to look like a faggot for the occasion. In fact, I want to look more like a faggot than most. First of all, do you have a spare thong?"
"Of course. Over there, top drawer."
It was wonderful. Why had I never done this before? James put on his thong, then a crisp white cotton shirt. Then he threw a shirt to me. It was in soft white silk, with puffy sleeves and a close-fitting torso.
"Before that, just a minute. Come over here and sit in front of the dressing-table mirror."
He took out a pair of scissors, studied me for a moment, then cut off my hair straight across just below my hairline. "That'll do for this evening. More later. Now sit still, and close your eyes."
I felt sensations on my eyelids, finally opened my eyes to see that I now had green eyeshadow, and perhaps mascara.
"You can put on lipstick later, if you'd like."
"I'd like. Do you put makeup on all your conquests? "
"Only the really pretty ones. Hurry up and dress."
So we dressed, very much the same, but so different. He was rather conventional in white shirt and black pants. I was also in white shirt and black pants, but my shirt was soft, with big sleeves, more of a blouse, which left my navel bare. My pants were loose and silky, gathered with a drawstring, but with a short rise leaving my navel and my rear cleavage uncovered. And of course I had eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick.
James looked at me appraisingly.
"Not bad. Just think if we let ourselves go."
There was a hint of dawn in the sky as we walked out. It was only a few blocks to a bar which I had never realized was there. As we approached, James stopped, looked at me and said --
"The idea here is that you say as little as possible, just smile."
"Just what I feel like doing, anyway. I feel so full, and I just can't wait to be full again. I'm so grateful to you, lover, I could smile silently for a week. I suppose I'm a natural-born bottom."
He looked at me suspiciously. "What do you know about bottoms?"
"I feel as if I'd known forever. Don't you think I take to it?"
"Oh, you do, you do indeed."
Inside James was greeted as an old friend by about half a dozen men, who surrounded him, shook his hand, and slapped his back. He put his hand on my butt and gently pushed me forward.
"This is Brian. He's a new friend. I was clever enough to find him, and we've just made love. It was his first time, can you believe it?"
They greeted me gently, most of them merely kissing me on the cheek. One of them hugged me and whispered in my ear: "How is James as a lover?" I whispered back: "He's just wonderful!"
James went on. "He looked just like any straight guy, but I thought I could detect something different. Besides, He made me so horny thinking about him that I had to leave a party early. Then he wouldn't pick up and I had to seduce his answering machine. Didn't I, Brian?"
"Yes, you did, James."
He stroked my buttocks.
"He took to it very well. In fact, he thinks he's a natural-born bottom. To see him now, you'd never guess how he looked a few hours ago, would they, Brian?" He looked at me and squeezed my waist tenderly.
"No, James darling, they wouldn't."
After that, I mostly just stood a little behind him, stroking his arm, and occasionally nibbling his ear. He seemed to enjoy this, and so did I. Everybody in the bar looked at me surreptitiously from time to time. Whenever I met eyes I smiled secretly, and looked down demurely. Soon I would whisper on his ear "Deep throat" and we would leave. Meanwhile I was in heaven enough.
The End (so far)
Comments welcome at mackroyz@msn.com