So, this is the story of how I found, worked, and eventually subdued my duane. He's my bottom, my sub, my sex slave. As I write this story, he's lying on the bed, a vibrator up his tush, clamps on his nipples, and he's gagged. The sounds he makes drive me absolutely crazy and, once I introduce y'all to our story, I'm gonna go in, get rid of that vibrator, and make sure he gets the REAL thing - the way he's been getting it for about a year now. A little bit about me. I'm not what you'd call a looker. I guess I'm a little shorter than your average guy: maybe 5'9" (ok, actually closer to 5'8.5", but most of those forms that make you give your height don't really like complex numbers like that). I'm heavier than I should be: I weigh in at about 200. I call myself "big boned." I have pretty nondescript hair, but... I have killer blue eyes and, perhaps more important to many of you.
I have a healthy 9.5 inch, cut cock. When we met, that didn't matter to duane, but eventually, it did.
duane? He's the guy you look at and think is a tall, geeky guy because he IS a tall, geeky guy. He comes in at 6'5": the hardest job I do is finding clothes that fit him well. He has very curly hair. Someone once told me it was a "jewfro," even though he's not Jewish, and he's not a man of color. He just has that very kinky curly hair . (He didn't know what other parts of him were kinky until I came along, but we'll get to that). He wears VERY big thick glasses. His lips are big and soft. One of his best features. He's thin: if I'm "big boned," he's "bird boned." And while I have less than average body hair, duane is hairy all over. And yes, he's hung the way you'd expect a 6'5" man to be. Except... these days, he doesn't get to use it. Thanks to me.
We met at someone's party. How someone could have known both of us, I don't know. duane, at the time, was working as a clerk at a bookstore (These days, thanks to me, he's gotten his dream job: he's a proprietor at his own store, selling new and collector comics, manga, that kind of stuff). I work in biochemistry. At the time we met, my first invention had been commercialized and, four days before that party, I had received my first royalty check. It was in the six figures. The patent runs for another 18 years. I think we'll be ok financially.
All of you readers, whether you'll admit it or not, have your type, right? Be he a blond guy, a Latino guy, a short buff guy, a ginger, etc. Me? I like geeks. But more than geeks, I like guys taller than I am. The taller they are, the better. Some of you may remember a song "It ain't the meat it's the motion." There's a line in that song that sums up my type: "But I like to see 'em big and tall/the bigger they come, the harder they fall." Yup. Right onto my bed. I wish. See, again I have to ask you to be honest: if you see a 5'9" (OK, 5'8.5" ) heavy guy standing next to a guy who's 6'5" and thin and I ask you who's the top... Admit it: you're going with the tall guy. And indeed, that was my experience. I'd meet a guy, who'd push ALL my buttons (tall, wears glasses, thin, deep voice, shy), and we'd get to talking. I'd find out... he wanted to get blown, or he was looking for a bottom. OR, I'd meet the really sissy tall guys who just didn't cut it for me.
But I digress (I do that a lot. Get used to it). My friend Milly invited me to this party. I'm really not sure of the rationale behind it, or what the theme was, but I DO remember her saying "there's going to be a guy there who may float your boats. His name is duane." He did. We were in a huge room, and he was standing with about four people. Standing, not talking. I was watching him closely: REAL closely. A tall, geeky looking guy, who seemed very, very shy.
Crewneck sweater over a buttondown. Corduroy jeans. Looked like well used penny loafers. Trying to style, and coming across as modified preppy. My cock sprang up into action. "I'm taking him home tonight," I whispered to myself. Now, all I had to do was extricate myself from the folks who wanted to know about the patent process. It took me a good hour to do that. Finally, I smiled at the last guy and begged off to get another drink. I noticed that he was drinking club soda, so I offered to get him a drink too. He smiled at the offer but... I was free to move in.
He had a great ass. Still does. He was standing with his back to me as I made my way to the bar. Still not talking. Silly little grin on his face. I decided to be aggressive. "Hey, I'm getting myself a drink, and I see you don't have one. Can I bring you back one?" He looked at me with a deer in the headlights kind of stare. "Uh... Uh... Sure.. Ok. I'm just.. " "I'll pick something for you. You don't have to drink it." I put my hand on his arm. He didn't pull it back, or tighten up. (I learned, later, he didn't know what to do). I got myself a bourbon, and I had a hunch, which proved to be right, that he drank sweet stuff. Rum and coke. "light on the rum," I requested. I wanted this guy aware of EVERY thing that would happen to him that night. I came back with the drinks. "Try this duane. I asked them to keep the rum light and the coke heavy, but..." "Oh, thank you. I don't think I've ever had one of these." He sipped, and then he gulped a little. He looked at me. "You called me duane. Do I know you from somewhere?" I smiled. "No, we've not met, but Milly told me about you?" "She did?" He asked, and then he made a wry face. "Oh yeah. You're Dr. Patterson. She told me she was gonna try to fix me up with you." "Well, sharing a drink with me isn't gonna kill you. But if you'd rather, I'll move off. My first name is Keith." "No, no, I'd rather you stayed, but... I'm afraid I'm not much into fix ups or blind dates." I laughed. "Well, then, why don't you just treat it as if I approached you trying to pick you up, because... if Milly hadn't been involved, I would be doing that right now." He almost spit up part of his drink. "NOW STOP THAT. " "WHY?" I asked, and I was sincere. "You seemed to be surrounded by people and I couldn't get near you, so I waited." He didn't believe me although I could tell: he wanted to. He had an air about him: this boy was LONELY. "She told me you're some kind of fancy researcher or something?" "Well, I don't know about fancy, but yeah, I'm a researcher." He was silent for a minute. "WAIT... WAIT.. I know who you are. Your picture was in the paper last week. I saw it. I didn't read the article but I saw it." "It was a boring article." "Science is boring" he answered. (Milly had warned me: he could be snide). "I'm not interested in talking about science with you duane." "Well, what DO you want to talk about? You don't know much about me." "So tell me." Now, unlike most of my ilk, I'm a good, careful listener, and I picked things up. He had studied Russian literature, but didn't want to go to graduate school because... and that's when I learned about the comic book store interest. I sure didn't know a LOT about comic books, but I knew something. "What's your favorite genre?" I asked. THAT impressed him. He told me it was the superhero genre. Especially "old school" comics. My next question surprised him more. "Do you have a favorite superhero?" He did. He liked Green Lantern. "Interesting choice," I answered. I could tell from his face that he had determined I wasn't just worthless science scum. "Any particular superpower you wish you had?" THAT question really intrigued him. "Not really. I think that's why I like Green Lantern. You know he's a superhero, but you don't know what his powers are." "Just his weaknesses. The color yellow." I saw an eyebrow go up. "Thing is, I like yellow. I wear it a lot. So I guess I'm not a good Green Lantern." "Well, maybe you're more new age than you think. Wasn't wood the old one?" He looked at me. "How did you know that? Not too many people do?" Suddenly, I had his interest. I smiled. "Maybe you can ask that when we're together , but alone. " He made another face. "I don't go home with guys I just met." I wanted to say "I bet you don't go home with many guys period" but I answered. "I'd settle for coffee somewhere." He looked at me and he did something which, to this day endears me to him. He cocked his head to the side. "You'd settle for coffee? You wouldn't pressure me to come home with you?" "Now let me be honest with you duane. I'd LOVE to get you home, and see if we're compatible. I think we are. But I'd settle for coffee if that's what you're comfortable with. " He looked around. "Sure. Do you have a place in mind?" "I do. You need a jacket or anything?" "mmmm, no. My sweater is warm enough. I generate a lot of heat." WHAT was I supposed to do with THAT line? Was that how he flirted? "You sure do. I suspect you're very hot." He whinnied like a horse and said "let's go." Well, I was a bit embarrassed. I had a place in mind that was a little swanky, because that man was so thin, he looked like working at a bookstore was NOT paying him enough to eat well. It was closed, so we wound up in - you guessed it - a Starbucks. "Treating a guy right," he muttered. "Hey, I'm sorry. I thought Joanna's was still open." "Joanna's? That's your coffee place?" "Yeah, what's wrong with that?" "I always wanted to go. Just... I can't see spending 6 bucks for coffee." "How's this?" I smiled. "You gotta stick around long enough for me to take you there." "I'll stick around long enough for you to INVITE me. I can't guarantee I'll go." "How about tomorrow after work?" He laughed. "Can't. I volunteer at a soup kitchen." OH GEEZ. I thought. "My giraffe is Mother Terese" "Tell you what? How about you give me a date when you CAN go." He smiled. "Any day other than Friday. They can't get volunteers on Friday night, so I go in." "file that away Keith, file that away, " I told myself. I did that because, the longer I sat with him, the more I liked his look. His attitude? I kept on thinking that a few months with me "training " him could eliminate that. But I did want his ass. As we talked, I tried something. Thinking "he may jump up and knock over the table," I ran my food over his leg. His face showed he knew what I was doing, but all he did was smile. I got a little bolder: I reached across the table and put my hand on his. "How about you finish your tea (he didn't drink coffee it turned out), and come home with me ? You'd make me really happy. " "You don't know that. I disappoint a lot of people." Time to move in for "the kill." "Because they roll over on their backs and you're not interested?" "THAT'S PRESUMPTUOUS!" his deep voice just sent shivers through me. I HAD to have him. "Is it true?" "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. " then he softened his tone... "yet." "Come on home with me. We'll worry about fitting in jigsaw puzzle pieces later. " We left the place, grabbed a taxi, and headed uptown to my place. In the car, I put my hand back on his again. "You're right. You generate a lot of heat." He smiled and said nothing. When we got to my place and I opened the door, he looked around. "You have a LOT of books. Maybe more than me." "Yeah, no comic books, but I do have a science fiction and fantasy section. It's over there. " I pointed it out and he went over, checking it. He didn't touch any books, he just looked. "Ok, here goes nothing " I thought. I came up behind him and put a hand on his elbow. "How about letting me kiss you?" I looked up into his eyes. "Yes, I'd like that," he answered. What followed was something that had NEVER happened to me before, and hasn't happened to me since: once we started tongue wrestling, I came in my pants. He saw the jerking motion and he didn't let me go. I didn't want him to. GOD the man could KISS. WHAT had the world of gay men missed, and why was I so darn lucky. When we stopped, I looked at him. "I bet your eyes are REALLY sexy. And if you take off your glasses, I can get even closer." He smiled and took the off, but added "if we sit down, you won't have to work so hard. " Into a sofa we went, for some of the most serious necking I have ever done in my life. During the course of it, I got him out of his sweater and then... I don't know how it happened, but my tongue wound up in his ear. "Ah ya no. no. not tonight." "Too sensitive." "This green lanterns' yellow," he answered. "I'm gonna push you down on the sofa and climb on top of you," I said. "You promise?" was his response and then... I had full body contact. I didn't ask, and he didn't protest, when I opened his shirt. That's when I found all that fuzz. And that's when we BOTH found out that my duane had a second Green Lantern yellow: when my tongue found a nipple and licked it, well... I guess we were both ready to burst that night. "I really should go. Where's the nearest subway?" he asked. "How about, we take a cab together. I don't want you to go, but if you have to, I don't want to be away from you." I was surprised when he didn't slap that down. "Let me pay for it, Keith. You're gonna have to take one back." "Next time. Promise me there's gonna be a next time." "You want me back?" he asked. "Uh huh" was all I said. "Ok. Can we do a phone number exchange and.." I kissed his lips. "It's required." We took a cab to Grand Central. Once we knew where his train was, we walked off there. "Good night kiss?" I asked. "In public?" he responded. I could see. He was scared. "Ok. Maybe a fraternal hug?" In the embrace, my hands moved down to his ass. Nice and firm. I whispered into his ear "I want that next time." He looked at me and smiled. "We'll see." He headed to his train. We did see indeed. So will you . Stick around for chapter 2.