The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not always observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
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-- Tony
"The Apartment" -- Part I
It was 7:00 in the evening Sunday.
As always, I was sitting at the computer, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing beneath my shorts. As I stared at the two guys giving each other head on my screen, a new window hid the boys from sight. It was Ray.
Ray was my dream -- or at least a guy who could get me hard and keep me that way for quite a while.
"what's up?"
I gave the rote, "Not much," in response.
"what are you doing?" Ray implored more specifically.
"Just sitting around ... Have the night off," I wrote.
"cool ... you planning on doing anything tonight?"
All I could think was, "Where is this going? He is -- or says he is -- straight. And yet he always wants to come over, get this close to hooking up, and then go home -- leaving me to jerk off while thinking about his hot fuckin' body."
"Nothin' yet," was all I wrote.
"you wanna get together or something?"
Confirmation.
"Sure."
Reciprocation. I had just guaranteed an unsatisfying conclusion to a pretty unsatisfying weekend.
"I just need to finish this chapter, and then I'll come over ... we can order a pizza or something. I'll be starved," he wrote, signing off as quickly as he had appeared.
I logged off, closed out the porn page, and willed my hard-on away -- only somewhat successfully. My mind raced around the apartment, with my body only slightly behind, cleaning things up and straightening them up. Whenever Ray gave me the frustrating honor of his presence, I felt like the apartment had to be perfect.
With the apartment in good shape, I went to the next step -- me.
I went to the bathroom, saw I was wearing a slightly worn T-shirt, and ran to my bedroom to find something better to wear. Glancing over to the bed and keeping my hopes at their highest, I fixed the pillows and blankets to their most inviting state.
I found a tighter, almost-club-boy shirt and put it on. I ran back to the bathroom and liked the mirror's opinion of the new choice.
I saw my short new haircut was working for my dark brown hair. Just a little bit in the front glued up in the air, I have the preppy college look down. I am about 5-feet-9-inches tall and weigh around 150 pounds -- depending on the amount of exercise I have put in for the previous month. I have a fairly nice body -- a good, toned fame -- but nothing to run out and buy for yourself. I do, however, have a great (read: devious) smile and a charming (read: mischieveous) personality. I am 21 years old and have been out since freshman year. I will be graduating in a month -- assuming I actually finish all my classes.
And Ray will be here at any minute.
The door rang at my second-story one-bedroom apartment around 8:10 that night.
It was definitely Ray.
His hunger had caught the better of him, it had appeared, because he showed up with the pizza and breadsticks.
"Could wait to ask what I wanted?" I asked him, giving him the dirty look that means dirty in every way.
"I know what you want," he responded quickly, adding, "I got plain, extra cheese, and extra garlic sauce. Am I wrong?"
I feigned anger for all of two seconds before grabbing napkins and Cokes from the kitchen.
"I thought so."
Score: one -- Ray, zero -- Anthony.
But who needed points when Ray was in your apartment.
The 19-year-old Ray was a sophomore, 5'7", probably 150 pounds and built. A short, built football player was all you could think when you saw him. Oh yeah, that and, "Fuck me now, you hot stud."
He has super-short, light brown hair that is accented perfectly by bleached-blond highlights on the front strands, which are allowed to grow slightly longer than the rest of his meticulously coiffed hair. He has ice-blue eyes, with entrancing eyelashes to keep any horny boy or girl's undivided attention. The rest of his body is just as good.
As he sat on the couch eating pizza, his built arms and upper chest were barely contained in the skimpy fitted Gap T-shirt he wore that night. His legs, resting on the coffee table, were even more tempting, each bit of muscle seemingly more defined than the other. Oblivious, Ray sat there enjoying his long-awaited meal.
I guess I didn't realize I had been too busy examining my prey to get some food when Ray snapped me back to attention.
"You gonna get some?" Ray asked as he grabbed a third slice for himself.
"You mean I get that option?" I thought as I nodded and picked up my own slice.
As we sat there talking politics, law, philosophy and everything in between, I offered Ray a drink.
He accepted.
We were drinking Captain Morgan's Rum and Cokes now, and I was feeling a little more hopeful about my evening's prospects. As I came back with our second rounds, I noticed Ray had taken off his shoes and put them over by the door. Taking the cue, my shoes soon were removed as well before I returned to my spot on the couch -- just a little closer to Ray this time.
As we talked, I set my hand on his knee a few strategic times and graduated to putting my hand around his arm -- his bicep -- as the evening became night.
By the fourth drink, we had switched over to Absolut Citron and cranberry juice and I had moved my hand inside the sleeve of his shirt on those not-so-random touches.
Ray moved closer.
As a heated conversation rose his voice a little, I noticed his voice was not the only thing showing his excitement. Too much to be my imagining, I noticed a slight bulge forming in the crotch of Ray's pants.
It was now or never.
When Ray sounded off against the "drug war," I gently pushed my fingers against the base of his neck and asked him if he was tense.
"No, just pissed at the waste of government -- mmmmm," he voiced as I gently began massaging his shoulders.
"Just relax," I told him, as I turned his body -- without resistance -- into an easier backrub position.
Ray picked up his drink and took down a large mouthful.
My arms went down his back.
"You are so tense."
Another large gulp of cranberry and vodka for Ray.
The clock read 10:15 as my hands reached the base of his back. There was no turning back now.
My fingers felt their way back up Ray's back as we sat on the couch silently. I wrapped my fingers around each shoulder, pushing in as I began to traverse down his arms with my hands.
Once I had reach his hands, I pushed his legs up so that he was sitting facing away from me on the couch and got on my knees behind him to give me more leverage as I massaged him. As I made my way back up his arms, I could feel his pulled, tense, tight body begin to loosen and relax.
When I reached his shoulders again, I knew there was only one way to go.
I pushed my hands over the 50-yard line, gently massaging the front of Ray's shoulders. As I dipped a few fingers under the neckline of his shirt, I heard a little gasp and held back.
"No," was all Ray could say.
Moving my hands off his shoulders, all I could get out was a punctured, "Sorry."
Ray turned to see at my sheepish look, and returned it with a confused yet determined look of his own.
"No, I meant ... Don't stop."
And with that, my hands were sent the freedom that my mind felt as they reached under his shirt to feel a slight, sparse covering of hair on Ray's tight chest. As I massaged his pecs and felt his nipples tightening, I felt his left hand reach back and touch my leg. Letting him know how much I wanted this moment, I let out a little sigh as he began feeling his way to my inner thigh.
As he began massaging the soft spot just a few inches from what was now my rock-hard cock, he turned around to face me. His shorts did a poor job of concealing that he too was rock hard at this point. As I pulled off his T-shirt with my left hand, my right found its way over his left nipple, down his stomach, and onto his thigh.
"MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm -- Ohhhhhh," Ray's eyes closed as he moaned his satisfaction with my hands' movements.
I gently eased him back so his head rested on the end of the couch.
"Tony -- please ..." Ray moaned quietly.
With that last request, in one swift motion I slipped my fingers into the waist band of his sport shorts, pulled them down to his ankles, found my way to his sprung cock, and began massaging his tender ball sack.
"Oh my mmmmmmmmm."
He liked it.
As one hand gently stroked Ray's seven inches, my other hand removed his pants completely. As the pants came off, I found my mouth teasingly close to his dripping cock. Carpe diem, and I swallowed him whole.
"Jesus!" Ray shrieked and jumped as my teeth almost tore holes in his cock.
"Don't jerk Ray; just be calm," I said, rubbing my hands over his chest.
I resumed the position, leaving one hand exploring the upper half of his body as my mouth and right hand sucked his dick and massaged his balls, respectively. Ramming his seven inches deep down my throat, I could tell he was quickly getting into things.
A little too quickly: Ray's right hand grabbed on to my arm tight as I pinched his nipple, and he said, "I'm gonna cum."
Wanting this body before me more than anything, I took his cock al the way down my throat, losing track of when I stopped sucking and began gagging. I clamped my fingers around his balls, holding them away from his cum-hungry cock.
I let go of Ray's balls and kept sucking his cock as I felt his body tense up.
I took in a deep breath and prepared to swallow his load. I clamped down and went down on him one last time. He rammed himself deep down my throat as I felt him explode -- four or five hard blasts of hot cum quickly hit the back of my throat. He pushed harder down my throat as the last spurts came through, each one weaker and smaller than the last. Each one just as filling as I continued to feel Ray's body with the hand that wasn't holding his cock in place down my throat.
As I removed his dick from my mouth, I felt a change. Ray got very quiet.
He realized what happened, what he had just done.
"I have to get home."
"Not that drunk you aren't," I said, offering that he could sleep in my bed and I would stay out on the couch.
"I'll stay on the couch," he responded, looking at the floor for his pants and shirt.
He put them on quickly, turned his face into the couch, and said he needed to get to sleep then.
I got up from the couch and took my drunk self, deflated ego, and quickly softening cock into my bed.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Hey there -- Hope you enjoyed it, and be sure to e-mail me at MakeUCum69now@hotmail.com with any comments.
-- t