WHAT UP GUYS!!
Ryan here. So this story us SO far of my comfort zone, its not even funny. You'll see what I mean when you read it haha.
What I have written, is about 90% TRUE. It really happened, with a few changes along the way. I really hope you enjoy it.
Have a chat with me! Throw me an email at liciousryan@gmail.com
Peace and Love, Ryan
THAT'S NIFTY
"Your coffee, Sir. Enjoy."
I looked the waiter that was serving me, in the eye. Holy fucking shit. How did I get so lucky... He was stunningly beautiful. Looking back, I kinda pegged him to be around twenty- two, perhaps twenty-four at the most. Dayum. If only. Sigh.
"Thanks man. Appreciate it."
The fuck? I `appreciate' it? The guy was literally getting paid to bring me my coffee. He didn't need my appreciation! Yeah. This explains everything. I'm so out of touch with the male species, it's actually ridiculous. Not to mention, with my favourite hobby as well. Unfortunately.
You see, this is why my last three stories that I wrote, completely flopped. My laptop was still open on the table in front of me, and I had written a few lines of the story I had planned out, but I wasn't really getting any where. My mind simply just seemed to stop when I tried to place words in order. The lack of sex might have something to do with it.
Over the years I had gotten to know the readers of the blessed Nifty Archive decently well. Sex scenes are much needed in stories, because, let's face it, majority of the Nifty archive readers log into the website to get their rocks off. And whilst I didn't have any problem with giving my readers what they wanted, sometimes you wanna get away from having the characters cum their asses off violently in the first three lines of the story, and get some kind of romance into it.
However, if you wanna do THAT, I knew, you had to have a kick ass idea and storyline that would keep the readers coming back. My confidence was at such a low point right now. Over the years I had established myself as a Prolific Author on the Nifty Archive and I still had people, to this very day, emailing me about stories I had written as far back as 2010.
That's before I had my heart ripped out of my chest...Since my break up...fuck. Since that idiot decided to cheat on me with another WOMAN...I have been unable to give the readers what they want. Call it a mental writer's block. Fuck knows. People have commented that my stories are lifeless, written with a kindergarten attitude, short and meek. You name it. And in my heart, I knew it to be true. I had no desire for sex. Nor write about it. I had absolutely no desire to put words onto a blank screen.
However, the Nifty Archive has been there for me since 2006. I dunno where I would have been without reading those inspirational stories. (And yes, cumming like a mad man reading them) If I couldn't write for that archive anymore, it would be a fucking hard pill to swallow. That's for damn sure.
A shadow next to the table startled me.
"Excuse me, Sir. Would you be having breakfast with your coffee?"
My eyes glided over his name tag. Josh.
"Thanks Josh. Yeah, I'll have the Farmhouse. With extra mushrooms and bacon. Thanks."
"Only a pleasure."
HOLD THE PHONE!
Am I seeing things? He lingered. He totally did! I'm not blind, am I? I slowly turned my head, as discreetly as possible. I watched him punch in my order at the digital computer operator. Jeez. Life wasn't fair. His white buttoned shirt fitted him just fucking perfectly. Shortish black hair, gelled into an upright style. He was wearing a silver watch around his wrist, as well as several coloured beads.
I took a deep breath. I quite literally just got out at the nearest restaurant in the middle of no where this morning after visiting relatives in Cape Town. I have never been in this area, and it's not like I would be coming back here anytime soon for no reason.
There goes any possibility of hooking up with him. Even if he was interested, he was clearly in the middle of a shift and I didn't have time to wait until he was finished. I had my own restaurant in Hout Bay to get back to asap. I'm currently the co-owner of Salt Pub and Grill. Hard work, difficult clientele, but so worth it financially.
My phone rang. It was an unknown number. Fuck. I rejected the call. I dunno why telemarketers always, ALWAYS call you in the mornings. I totes respect what they do for a living, but 09:00 was way too early for that shit. My phone rang again. Number withheld. I rejected the call for a second time. Afterwards Josh arrived with my food, which he placed onto the table with careful precaution. He gently moved my coffee out of the way, and asked if he could top me up.
I was about to answer the hunk before me, when my phone rang for a third time. Fuck this, I had enough.
"Ryan White, hello?"
"Ry! Thank God!"
No need to thank God. It was my scumbag ex. I saw that Josh was still patiently waiting for an answer, however, there was a frown on his face right now, that wasn't there before. As if he was trying to solve a difficult math problem.
"Get lost, Chris. We have nothing to say to each other."
"But Ry..."
"Whatever, Chris. Don't call me again. You made your choice."
I slammed the phone harder onto the table than I really should have. A small crack appeared on my screen protector. Urgh. When my day REALLY couldn't get any worse.
The delicious smells and the aroma of bacon, eggs, hash browns and mushrooms reminded me why I was at the restaurant in the first place. I picked up my cutlery to start to eat, and that's when I noticed Josh still standing next to me, albeit, a few feet away from my personal space.
"Something wrong, Josh?"
"Uhm...no. Just wanted to say...uhm...please enjoy your breakfast."
He walked away slowly and disappeared into the kitchen. Weird. After I devoured every last piece of my breakfast, I opened up my laptop and concentrated on writing my newest story. I was more determined than ever. This story, was gonna be wonderful. It was gonna break this wall that stood between my brain and my laptop's keyboard. I will prove myself to my readers who support what I post to Nifty, year after year.
Fuck Chris. Fuck the woman he cheated with me on. Fuck whatever he wanted. I blew out some pent up breath and started writing.
It was about half an hour into my journey with my new story that I noticed Josh hovering next to me yet again, once more, offering me a coffee top up, which I gladly accepted.
"Can I get you anything else? Perhaps some cream for your coffee?"
Man, he must REALLY need the tips around here.
"Thanks Josh, but I have everything I need. Well, maybe if you have any ideas on how to write a story people won't slack me of from, go ahead."
It was obviously meant as a joke to blow off some steam, but it certainly wasn't to him.
"Sir, would you bare with me just a moment?" He asked, whilst taking out his own cellphone. I nodded, a little curious at what the reason was for his strange behaviour. It wasn't like I was some celebrity or a serial killer. He typed in something on his keyboard, and after a few more seconds of swiping, he showed me his screen.
"I'm taking a huge chance asking you this, but I have to. Did you write this?"
I looked at the screen a little more carefully. My God. He had logged into the Nifty Archive. Not only that, he had his phone open at one of my stories. A particular story which I had received over 20+ email's for after submitting every chapter. It was in the Adult Friends section, called Love Has No Gender.
I turned my eyes away from the screen and towards him. My God. I have never seen blue eyes such as his. Deep, almost royal blue. Majestic, came to mind. And for the first time that morning, I got a whiff of his cologne and his aftershave. Clean, fresh manly...perfection.
"Yes, I did write that story. How did you know?"
"Oh wow. No, when you answered your phone, I couldn't help overhearing your name. Ryan White. That is the name of my favourite writer on the Nifty Archive. Understand, I have read everything, literally, that you have ever posted. I absolutely love your style of writing. You have a way with words, I can't explain it. I...I guess I took a chance asking if this was you. I mean, you're clearly writing a story right now, so..."
My heart skipped. I have never, ever met someone who actually READ and LOVED my submitting's in person before. Oh yeah, I have flirted, chatted, even Skyped with several of the readers who had contacted me over the years. But, I have never, met any of them. Until now. I didn't quite know what to say or how to act.
I know exactly what type of stories I like to create. They are usually in the Adult Friends, Adult Youth, or Incest section. The fact that he claims to have read most of them means I now knew...he was into adult males having sex. Into adult men having sex with young boys. And of course...having sex with your relatives.
My dick squirmed.
Josh was suddenly called away into the kitchen. I drank some of my coffee to get my nerve back. This was actually someone who got me, and what I wrote. My inner most feelings on a blank screen... and he loved it. My watch caught my eye. I was late for my shift at Salt. I closed my laptop and drank the last of my coffee. Just as I was about to pay, I saw Josh coming from the kitchen. When he saw I was leaving, his face fell visually. We held eye contact what seemed like forever. It was like some magnetic force was refusing that our eyes left that of the other.
Eventually, I swallowed and walked over to the front desk. Josh joined me as I paid for the breakfast with my credit card.
"Sir..."
"Problem?"
"This is way too much. I mean..."
"Keep it. For the fantastic service. Sorry I have to go so suddenly. Breakfast was awesome. And Josh..."
He looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes.
"Thanks. After three failed stories on Nifty, I really needed that. I mean it."
As I turned away from the handsome waiter I only met a mere 90 minutes before, I realised how silly this whole thing was. Come on! How can you possibly feel such strong a connection with the waiter that served you breakfast?
Ryan, listen to yourself. You really are nuts.
I got to my car and unlocked the door. As I was about to get in, I saw Josh running towards me.
"Did I forget something?" I asked, puzzled.
"Yes, you did. This."
He held out one of the restaurant's serviettes. There was a phone number scribbled on it.
"This what I think it is?"
He nodded, putting his hands the pockets of his trousers.
"Can I ask why? You hardly know me."
It was like a shot of espresso had blown right through him. His eyes were determined.
"Because I'd really like to get to know the person behind the stories I've read and loved so much. Stories that...you know...got me off. You probably have loads of people coming up to you saying that..."
I laughed.
"Josh, no. Really, no. Writing for Nifty doesn't mean you're suddenly famous. I like writing erotic stories. Very much. And if people get off on it, that's my job done. We don't get paid or anything. Nothing except the satisfaction of receiving email's to compliment you on your work. THAT is what DRIVES you to write MORE. Not that I have gotten that much lately. My last three stories on Nifty were flops."
"I wouldn't say they were flops, Ryan. But they lacked that personal touch. And the sex scenes...well..."
"I know. Hard to write about them, when you're not getting any. Too much info?"
His eyes sparkled.
"Not at all. I have to get back to work. But please, if you want to, that is...please call me. Or WhatsApp me. I'd really like to hang out."
His gelled hair barely moved in the sudden wind that picked up. In the broad sunlight, I could see his body underneath his shirt more clearly. He sure seemed ripped. I'd bet my salary check on that.
"I'll think about it. Thanks, Josh."
I reached out my hand. He stretched his out as well. He shook on it.
Who the fuck was I kidding?
We both knew I was gonna call him.
THANKS FOR READING!!
So, this is NOT my usual type of story, but I wanted a challenge. Like I said, what you have read here, is about 90% TRUE.
Would you guys like another chapter? Lemme know xx
liciousryan@gmail.com