Starved for Affection -- by jonathanclassof99@yahoo.com
Preface: This story is true. It describes a relationship I had while a freshman in college. If descriptions of male sexuality bothers you or offends you, please read no further.
Also, readers may be interested in first reading a story I wrote about a relationship I had my senior year in high school. It may be read here: /nifty/gay/camping/bobby-big-and-tight/
I.
I entered the spring of my freshman year restless. You know what I mean: the air begins to warm and sex seems to be everywhere; each time you take a deep breath you got a hint of crotch and a whiff of armpit. Unfortunately, the smell of sex was all I could get. I was without a fuck partner for nine months and I thought I'd soon go insane.
During the end of my senior year in high school and during the summer, I'd been experimenting with gay sex with a friend in my graduating class. That had ended badly except for the fact that it finally allowed me to recognize my homosexuality. I thought that college, out of state in Connecticut, would be a bevy of activity for a young queer like me, but the social life was amazingly quiet. I was relegated to late night online jack off sessions with other lonely guys sitting in front of their computers. Through these instant messenger and chat whack off sessions I met lots of nice people, but who knows who the hell they really were and I missed feeling naked skin upon my own. And although I'd had just one partner before, I really missed someone needing me. I liked it and felt good about myself, in an admittedly superficial way, that my high school fuck friend needed my ass or just had-to-have my cock in his mouth. With out someone needing me, I felt not just alone, but pretty damn useless.
But it was during this spring semester English class that a professor suggested `people watching' as a way to understand and create distinctive characters for short stories. The Prof had mentioned that as a young graduate student he would go into NYC to gaze at strangers for stories he was writing. I decided to do the same and add a bit of cruising to hopefully find a boyfriend.
II.
It was my third trip into the city that I tried a new hangout - a fabulously trendy hotel bar that had many recent positive write ups. Armed with my trusty fake ID and a dynamite outfit featuring a classy gray and blue shirt, I sat at the hotel bar sipping drinks, watching folks and chatting with this extremely cute bartender. I lied and told him I was going to meet family on Broadway for a show later and also lied by saying I was in Graduate school. His name was Mark and he was 28, about nine years older than me. It was late afternoon, so his job demands at this point were rather light and we had ample time to talk.
Although it was the basic guy stuff conversation (school, work, sports) it was heavy with sexual overtones and flirting. Even though I was completely new to this, I was rather quite a natural and definitely new he was queer like me. He seemed charmed by my personality and we really clicked. He said he had family in Connecticut and maybe we should meet for a drink next time he was passing through.
Anyone watching would have thought we were too old college chums setting time to take in a game at the local pub, but we both knew we were, in fact, setting up a date and hopefully more.
Mark called me later that week and wanted to stop by for a visit. It was then I had to admit that I was only 19 and not in graduate school. He just laughed and said he, too, was lying when he said he had family in Connecticut and really just wanted to come up and to see me. He suggested we meet Saturday, a rare Saturday off for him, and I agreed.
All week I thought of him when I beat off. No need for computer porn or JO buddies this week. Just the thought of Mark, his muscular upper body and short dark hair was enough to make me cum in just a minute or so. I beat off as slow as I could, imaging our French kissing and that's all it would take for me to make a mess.
I did double duty at the gym that week because it was obvious Mark was a fitness nut and I was eager to please. Saturday at the pub couldn't come soon enough.
III.
Mark was early and had already finished half his 20-ounce beer by the time I got there. It was a little awkward at first, but a couple of beers later, the conversation began to zoom along. It was barely an hour since we'd arrived when Mark said, "So, do you have a single room or do you have a roommate?"
"Just me. I put in for a single and was lucky to get it even though I was a freshman," I said.
"I'd love to see. Why don't we get some beer on the walk over and check it out," Mark suggested.
My heart was suddenly pounding. I was hoping he was thinking what I was thinking. "Sounds like a good idea, lets do it."
When we got to my room, I hardly had time to open two beers when he came up from behind me and hugged me. He put his arms around my stomach and pressed his hips and crotch into the seat of my jeans.
I almost fell with weakness.
I held the two beers up. One in each hand as Mark moved his hands from around my stomach down to cupping my dick and balls through my jeans. He held my crotch tight and pressed his body more and more tightly against mine. I felt his cock grow behind me as it was up against by butt.
Mark said, "I can feel your cock. Can you feel mine?"
"Yes." I said, as if answering a schoolteacher.
"Do you want to go lay down?" he asked.
"Yeah"
I led the way to my bed. I was bleary eyed with anticipation, no idea what to expect, but happy that I didn't have to look at that stupid computer screen to cum.
Mark and I lay down and began to kiss gently. Just lips at first and then tongues licking lips. Tongues licking tips of tongues. Deep tongues, so deep I wanted to be inside his whole mouth.
Mark moved his hands between us as we kissed to start unbuckling our belts and unzipping our flies. I started to help, but he pushed my hand away. "No," he said. "I'll do it. I want to do this".
He pushed me onto the bed gently so that I would relax while he undid our clothes. We were soon naked: I, with what I call a soccer body, not bulging, but athletically serviceable. Mark, on the other hand had a body that had been worked on for years. At 28 years of age, he had about 12 years of intense lifting in those muscles and every work out showed. When in a shirt he was just "big", but nude.he was defined and angelic. His body was naturally smooth and his muscles perfect like a statue. I could hardly believe my good fortune.
Mark lay between my legs, kissing my face and then my neck. He worked on my nipples, biting gently and sometimes a bit harder. When he bit hard, I moaned and wanted to grab my cock and start pumping, but to do so would be unthinkable. I just wanted him to keep moving down.
When he got to my belly button I was in ultimate surrender. The spell broke for a moment as he stopped to grab the hand lotion beside my bed. Instead of lubing up my cock for a good pulling, he had pushed apart my legs and was pouring the cream on my balls and pushing it back between the crack of my ass.
He took my prick in his mouth and started moving slowly up and down. While doing this he probed my creamy butt with first one, then two, of his fingers. He was a perfect suck machine. He sucked and fingered in rhythm and the thumb of his fucking hand would strike my balls hard every time he fingered my hole. It was a glorious mixture of pleasure and pain that could not last long as soon I began to spurt. He was trooper, swallowing as much as possible as his fingers slowed and his bobbing head came to stop, all action now just a gentle, soft, perfect sucking mouth.
I was stunned and exhausted. Although I had done nothing of great exertion, I was totally unable to move. Mark reposition him self and sat on my chest. Using his lotioned hand, he began to beat off. I looked up in admiration at him. He was in his own world. Eyes slightly closed, slowly pulling on his 6+ inches of cut meat. His eyes glazed over and he said, "Open your mouth".
I opened my mouth half way. Mark moved his cock closer to my face and bent over, one hand now near my head, his arm supporting the weight of his thick upper body. He continued to stroke and placed the tip of his slippery cock on my lower lip just as he shivered and started to come. Globs spewed out of the head of his cock. It didn't shoot out; it flowed like thick cream into my mouth. He didn't put his cock into my mouth but kept it gently on my lips at he continued his stroking. My mouth was completely full with Mark's cum as I hadn't dared swallow with out his direction. Seeing my mouth open and full, Mark leaned down and put his ear against my throat.
"Swallow", he said. After pausing to listen, he said, "My god, I think I love you".
IV.
As with all relationships, this relationship with Mark would have its particular moments that defined how the relationship would be recalled in the future. I think of these times as the good, the weird and the Ugly.
The Good
After three weeks of going out with Mark, our relationship fell into a wonderful, predictable routine that I could count on to make me feel useful and needed. Because Mark lived in a basement apartment in Brooklyn and worked most nights, I was usually the one that would make the trip down so we could be together. I'd usually spend the weekend. We would workout during the day at the gym, go for a run, take a shower, have great sex, and then he'd be off to work at the bar.
I'd travel with him on the subways and then return home alone- Watch TV and fall asleep. Mark would wake me when he returned home in the early hours of the morning. I'd take a cold shower to try to wake up and then we get turned on to each other all over again - a typical Friday night.... I got out of the shower and Mark handed me protein drink with a ma huang ingredient, a natural herb that was like super caffeine or an amphetamine. I stood there in my towel while Mark finished his drink and talked about his night. As usual he made really good money in tips. The bar had been packed with youngish Wall Street types and travelers. A ten- dollar tip for a fifteen-dollar drink tab was commonplace. He came home with over $500 in tips for six hours work. This put him in a good mood.
After our drinks we had a nice high going so we moved to his bedroom were the bed was still warm from my three hours of sleep. I loved it that he didn't shower before we started action. He smelled like a musty oak tree, like what I imagined a real man to be. Even though he was just nine years older, he had many more lovers and fuckers than I had even guessed. One thing that gave away his extensive experience with other men was the leather strap loop that hung from a large bolt from his ceiling. When he bedded me for the first time in his room I didn't know what it was for but I would soon find out.
As he always did in this late night sessions, Mark took off all his clothes and removed my towel, got on his knees and started sucking me off. In an instant, I was rock hard and I lay down on the bed. Mark ripped open a package of Trojans with his teeth and slipped a lubed condom over my hot dick, squeezing my ballooning balls as he did. From his bed stand, he took out a jar of KY jelly and gobbed it onto my cock.
Mark then grabbed ahold of the leather loop strap hanging from the ceiling and squatted on my prick. Delicately, using his great upper body strength, he lowered is asshole around my erect dick. With the ease that comes with experience, his hole relaxed and I fit in perfectly. Now, with the same amazing arm strength and using the leather loop he lifted his body up and down, up and down slowly on my cock. This wasn't just sex; it was sex and a physical workout for Mark. Sweat started to pour from his entire body and it pooled on my stomach and chest.
For all his bulk, Mark was light as a feather on top of me with so much of his weight borne by the leather strap. He did what amounted to pull-ups while his ass stroked my meat over and over. Better than any blowjob, Mark's tight ass clenched hard to my cock, but I was barely aware of any other part of him. His gorgeous butt was all but disembodied - a perfect nameless, faceless fuck hole floating above me.
This night I came slowly, not as quickly as in the past. I was yearning to learn to hold my climaxes, as Mark seemed to enjoy a longer session on the strap even more than myself. After I had come, Mark removed the condom and licked my cock clean of the cum that was left.
Until this night, Mark always got off by whacking off into my mouth without actually ever entering my mouth with his cock. I was so happy that he was happy that I never thought it too strange.
This night it would be different. Although the strap supported fuck was as expected, tonight Mark would allow me to give him somewhat of a real blowjob. I say "somewhat" because he held my head firmly in his two hands as he stood on the bed and fucked my face. He was aggressive but I loved it, I felt I was actively pleasing him. The harder he pulled me back and forth on his prick the harder I sucked. I was so enthralled by this new turn of events that I actually wrote about in my journal the next morning. This is what I wrote: "I really think that Mark liked being with me last night. He let me give him head and he was really into it. He was holding my head and pumping hard like I was his first. Mark was talking the whole time saying `you're my beautiful little guy you know that? My fucking beautiful little guy. I love your face, fuck, I love your face. My little guy's fucking body is awesome. I'm fucking your beautiful face, Jon. Jon I love your beautiful tight mouth. Suck me you fuck. My fuck. I love you so much.' When he came I swallowed it all and when I was done he kissed me so hard he took all my breath away. I love him so much".
In reading page upon page of my old journal now, I can see things I could not before. Mark's controlling attitude and aggressiveness that passed for deep interest. And it got worse. Over the next view weeks, Mark began to obsess about my weight. Although I'm almost 5' 11" and weigh just over 165, he thought I was too pudgy. He said he wanted, "to be proud of me come summer time."
The Weird
Mark devised a fasting schedule for me to lose twenty pound as quickly as possible. He said he'd act as my personal trainer if I cooperated and I agreed. Two times a week, I would fast for two days, except for two pieces of fruit. As it worked out, I would fast Thursday and Friday and then again Sunday and Monday. On these days I would eat a banana in the AM and a pear or apple for dinner and all the water I wanted. I even increased the running portion of my exercise to burn even more calories.
Sometimes during those days I'd cry because I got so hungry. I'd call Mark on his cell phone or just lay in his lap sobbing with hunger if I was in Brooklyn. He told me to think about the summer and how ripped I would be. His said lifting weights meant nothing if you didn't get your body fat down to the lowest percentages possible. He said that during the summer he would take me to the beach where he used to work at a gay bar and show me off to his friends and former co-workers. I liked the sound of that, but still it was the most horrible time of my life.
It took me just twelve days to lose ten pounds and another 18 days to lose the next ten pounds. I'd start the fast on Sunday mornings in NY and then finish at midnight on Monday in CT. Then I'd begin again on Thursday mornings in Connecticut and cut classes Friday to be in Brooklyn on Thursday night. I'd fast all day Friday until Mark came home early Saturday morning after work..
Mark finished cooking the spaghetti and it was almost 3:00 AM on Saturday morning. Time to break my fast. Mark was wearing sweat pants and no shirt. I came out of the shower and he brought the plate of food over to the love seat near his bed. He took off my towel and I sat on the love seat naked as he took seat on the coffee table opposite me. He twirled the spaghetti on the end of the fork and brought it up to my lips.
But before he put it into my mouth, we played a game that became our habit on these nights. Because I was taking a short fiction course at school, he asked for a mini-dirty story before every bite took.
Mark said, "The Costa Rican dishwasher was their tonight, what happened?"
I answered with my fictional mini story; "You caught him stealing food during his break so you took him into the bathroom. After you knocked him around a while you made him sit on the toilet and suck you off. You made him swallow it all and told him if he was hungry again, he was to come to you to get his fill of cum first. The end." And I took a bite.
Mark twirled the next forkful and said, "A cute delivery boy with a pierced tongue brought the specialty wines to the bar today, what happened?" I answered, "He broke on of the bottles that was worth $200 so he started to cry. You took him out beside the dumpster and made a deal with him. You'd say the bottle was broken in the case if the delivery boy would give you a rimming. He reluctantly agreed and beside the dumpster you dropped your slacks and boxers and he licked your asshole for three minutes. The cool metal of his piercing pressed hard against your hole while you beat off. The end." And I ate again.
This fasting and story-telling and feeding continued until I achieved his desired weight for me of 145 pounds of pure muscle and lots of bone.
On the day I weighed in at 145 lbs, Mark said he had a surprise for me when he got back from work. When he finally did return home, for the first time ever, he came into the shower with me after I had woken up. I asked if this was the surprise and he said "no".
While we showered he took a washcloth and started washing by asshole. He used lots of soap and water and pushed his slippery fingers in deep. I almost came in the shower, but before I could he removed his finger, rinsed of the soap and shut of the shower.
We dried each other off and he led me over to the love seat. He grabbed the comforter from the nearby bed and folded it over twice and placed it on the arm of the love seat, pushed me toward it and bent me forward and over the soft, padded armrest. With my ass now angled up and fully exposed to him, Mark slowly pried my ass cheeks open with his tongue and began to lick and lick. At times his tongue would stop and probe ever so gently, and then he began the licking again. He licked and probed for over fifteen minutes and I moaned loudly throughout.
He said nothing the entire time he was rimming me, but when he stopped he said, "Jonathan, you look so fucking great. I'm so proud of you, I know it wasn't' easy but you did it and you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I like to fuck you if that'd be okay?" I moaned a "yes" and he began.
He was rock hard and my anus was relaxed as could be from his tongue soaking. He took some petroleum jelly, put it on his naked cock and place the tip of his dick right onto the slit of my asshole. "I'm gonna push in", he said. As he did, I felt my whole self being filled up with Mark. Despite the lubrication, my ass was white hot but I pushed back my butt to take in even more of him. He slowly pumped in and out. My own cock was being rub against the comfortor and I neared cumming. With just two minutes of pumping, Mark filled my ass with the hottest, wettest and creamiest jizz I could imagine. With his dick still in my asshole, he lifted me back off the armrest until I was standing. He grabbed my dick and with two pumps, I came all over.
The ritualistic ass-bangings continued for another three weeks. I would get reamed with his mouth and then fucked in the ass on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights and, sometimes, on Monday mornings before I caught the early train to get back for Monday classes.
I became, in my mind, a first class bottom. Mark was so enthusiastic over my new physique and butt, he even bought be some new pants and a pair of shorts from a catalogue that were supposedly designed to accentuate my rounded bubble. It seemed like deja vu because the first boy I ever had sex with in high school was also enthused with working on my ass. But now that I was garnering so much attention, I didn't mind Mark's singular focus much at all.
The Ugly
I was now in a weight maintenance mode, so as long as I was working out hard enough, I could eat most of what I wanted with in reason. Mark called to let me know that he had the coming Saturday off and wanted to drive up to my place in Connecticut for a change of pace. I was psyched as I had bought some cool retro furniture that I wanted him to see. On Saturday morning, Mark called to let me know there was a slight change of plans. A friend of his, Damon, from the gay bar he used to work at, was interested in taking a road trip and would be joining us. I silently fumed, but decided to go with the flow.
Mark and Damon arrived around three in the afternoon. I was surprised to find that Damon was an African-American - tall, lanky, and jet-black. I was surprised because Mark had never mentioned that he had a Black friend.
In any event, I was jealous of Damon within the first couple of minutes of meeting him because I sensed he had a close connection to Mark somehow. When I gave them a "tour" of my new furniture, Damon only said a handful of words - none of which made a whole lot of sense to me, but Mark seemed very interested in Damon's asides and even found them insightful. Hence my jealous embers began to burn. I began to wonder if they used to be boyfriends or if Mark thought he was cute, or whatever else my imagination could stir up inside my head.
It was four o'clock and time for the local sports bar and an unhealthy dinner of bar food and beer. Mark was in an especially good mood and forgave my many indulgences so long as I kept promising to run more the following day. We had planned to go see an artsy movie in New Haven, but decided to pop on over to a blues bar instead to stay in the neighborhood. Through dinner and beer, Damon maintained his demeanor of detached quiet as my own mind whirled to try to figure him out.
It was past midnight when we got home and I was pretty blitzed. I used to be quite a drinker, but with so little weight to carry around now, I had the tolerance of a freshman sorority girl. Mark had to help me up the stairs a bit as the beer took its toll on my coordination. We were in the room and I went right to the bathroom to pee and wash up for bed. I figured Mark and I would sleep on my bed and Damon could pull out the futon.
Before finishing my wash ritual, Mark joined me in the bathroom and kissed me hard on the lips. He held me tight and said, "I have a nice surprise for you tonight". I was thrilled, as he hadn't paid attention to me all night.
"That's great," I said, "but we better wait for Damon to fall asleep first."
"But that IS the surprise," Mark whispered, "Damon can't wait to get it on with you."
I was drunk, but pretty sure I'd heard Mark wrong. "Damon can't wait for what?" I whispered back so Damon wouldn't hear.
"To get it on with you. I told him all about you and that's why he wanted to come up here with me," Mark said. "I told him how beautiful and delicious your ass was, and I told him you'd think it was fun."
I replied, "Fuck you, Mark. I don't think its fun. What's your fucking problem? I can't believe you're even saying this." I obviously had never talked to Mark like this before. I was both drunk and mad.
Mark shot back, "I know what you are. You are sweet and beautiful and you've a great ass. You like showing it off more than anyone else I know. So don't get all high and mighty on me you little shit." Mark was drunk too, but there was a real edge to his voice now like he was different person. "You tight asses always want cock so shut the fuck up. What's your problem?"
I didn't know what to do, so I said, "I'm not discussing this, I'm going to bed. If you don't like it leave." I staggered out of the bathroom to my bed. I didn't even look up to catch Damon's gaze. I went to my bed, made myself as small as possible under the covers and passed out.
I woke up probably an hour later having to take another piss. The room was still spinning like mad and I feared that I might get sick if the spinning continued. Even as I was trying to get my head about me, I heard a low moaning and whispers from inside my room. I held my breath and didn't move.
It was difficult to really hear anything distinctly but I definitely heard something going on. While fighting back the urge to throw-up I slowly and silently picked up my head from my pillow and looked passed the foot of the bed. The faint light through the windows was enough for me to see Damon naked on the futon and Mark giving him a blowjob. It took my eyes a moment to adjust and to believe what I was seeing, but Mark was in his boxers and definately kneeling beside Damon, his head bouncing up and down. That was all I saw before I went nuts.
I don't remember exactly what happened at this point, but I basically jumped and ran full tilt toward Mark and tackled him as hard as I could. Mark fell back and cracked his head against the wooden armrest of the futon and I started wailing on him with my fists with a torrent of swears. Before I got more than a couple of swings in, Damon grabbed me in headlock and threw me backwards. Everyone was screaming swears at each other I was kicking Mark with my free legs even as was trying to use his hand to cover the bloody gash that opened at the back of his head.
I squirmed free from Damon's headlock and ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
It seemed like ten minutes or so, and lots of whispers later, when Mark finally knocked on the door, "Jon, are you okay, man?
"Get the fuck out of here you fucking asshole," I said, tears now flowing.
"Hey, its no big thing. Everything's cool, let me in, I want to make sure you're okay," Mark said calmly.
It was then that I finally saw the light, because I became certain that if I opened that door, Mark would have raped me. Here I was, deathly afraid of my own boyfriend. Everything was perfectly clear now, his manipulation and his aggressive wasn't real affection, it was a form of violence.
"Come on Jon, open up. I'm sorry you freaked. I want to make sure you're okay," Mark repeated.
Again, it was the calm in his voice that made me know that he was going to do something bad to me if he got passed that door. I decided to lie.
"Mark," I said softly, "I'm weirded out now. I'm sorry. Do you mind if you guys just headed on home now."
"It's one in the morning, for Christ sakes," Mark said.
"I know Mark, but I'm not in a good state right now. I'll come down first thing tomorrow. I think we really need to talk. Just not now. Really, I mean, I love you," I said to the motherfucker.
He bought it.
"Okay, you just take it easy," he said. "Call me in the morning."
"I will," I said.
Of course, I never called. He called a couple of times that week but I never picked up. One time I picked up because my mom had said she'd call me right back.but it was Mark. He was yelling and screaming, calling me a "cunt" and a "whore" and a "faggot". He was totally out of control. I hung up and a week later he started sending me emails, sometimes with pictures of guys he had picked up - all to make me think I was missing something.
I did miss the Mark I thought I knew, but not the Mark that was.
I like to think I got my revenge when I printed out the pictures he emailed of him fucking some young guy. I took the pics to bed with me. I'd stare at the pictures and beat off wildly, comforted by distance from him and being, gratefully, alone.
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