The Bottom Apartment

By Short Guy

Published on Jan 5, 2017

Gay

The Bottom Apartmentby Short Guy Please remember that Nifty needs your donations to provide these stories. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

The bottom apartment part 4

It was a hot day when I moved into the bottom apartment. I had rented a U-Haul to take my stuff from my parents' place. They drove in a separate car to help me. I was a little nervous about them meeting Mr. Angelis, the landlord. He had, after all, seduced me with such skill that I couldn't remember exactly how it happened. It had gone from the shock of seeing how handsome and muscular he was to feeling his arm around me to somehow being on my knees with his penis in my mouth.

I had sucked my first dick and taken my first cock up the ass. And it had been the best experience of my life.

Mr. Angelis was gentle but powerful, tender-hearted and loving in a muscle-bound body with a grown man's handsome face that I never, in a million years, would have guessed played for my team. Of course, I had no real idea that gay guys came in all sizes and configurations and that there was no fucking way to tell for sure by looking at a man whether he was totally uninterested in me or salivating over my bubble butt and my soft boy lips.

Would my parents look at Mr. Angelis and assume, like I did, that he would be a good role model for me? Not as a man-fucker but as a straight married father figure... They would want me to stay far away from guys who wanted to fuck me and seduce me into assuming the position on my knees. Or would they see me look at him in a worshipful way and realize how much I wanted to suck his Greek penis? Would they see him as an ally to them in curing me of my homosexuality or would they see him as the path to damnation?

I decided not to think about it. I had gotten really good at hiding my attraction to guys. I could treat Mr. Angelis -- my daddy, my "babas" -- like a grown-up while we met my parents. Of course, my cock did get hard thinking about Mr. Angelis shaking my father's hand, looking in my father's eyes, knowing that he had fucked this guy's son and that he was planning to keep on doing it. The thought of him acting the landlord while shaking the hand of the guy whose son he was fucking was enough to get my cock twitching.

We arrived at the house. I had a key and went inside. The front door entered into a hallway and the door on the left went to my place, the bottom apartment where I had learned to bottom. The stairs led up to the second and third floors. Mr. Angelis lived with his wife on the third floor. Holy fuck, his wife... I realized as I was entering my apartment that at some point I would meet her. I'd have to act cool. I didn't want her to suspect that her god of a husband was slipping me his thick dick on the side. I didn't want her to suspect that he was fucking the both of us. Fuck me, so much to look forward to, so much to worry about.

We propped the front door open and left my apartment door open and started bringing stuff into the house. When I brought my books into the bedroom, I remembered the bed where Mr. Angelis was conceived and all the naked Greek gods covering it. Shit, I'd have to explain this to my folks. No problem, right? The landlord is Greek, they have those sculptures of naked dudes, he was sentimental about his recently deceased parents, right? But me sleeping beneath hunky muscular Greek men... fuck that would fuel my homosexual fantasies, wouldn't it? And wouldn't they know that?

Just then, my Dad and Mom came into the bedroom and saw the bed. They gaped at it.

"It belongs to the landlord," I said, a little too quickly. "It was his parents' bed. They come from Greece. They died over the last two years and he wants to keep the bed but he has no room in his place to keep it. So he's loaning it to me. It's really nice of him, isn't it?"

I looked at their faces trying to scope out what they were thinking.

"He loved his parents a whole lot and couldn't bear to give away the bed. Letting him store it here is the least I can do for him to honor his parents, don't you think?" I stammered a bit. Control yourself, you idiot, I thought.

Finally it looked like my Mom had decided something.

"Well it's sad," she said, "that he lost his parents and sweet that he wants to keep something so dear to them. It's nice of you to let him keep it here, isn't it Papa?" she said, looking at my father.

My dad said nothing, looking at the muscular gods and imagining how they must affect me. Finally, he looked at me. I was so fucking nervous.

"It's a good bed," he said. "And you're a good boy. Good for you to take care of it for him."

Whew. Whatever he was thinking about the naked guys he wasn't saying. Good, that was good.

But just at that moment Mr. Angelis walked in.

And fuck me, he was wearing gym shorts, sneakers, and nothing else. His torso was bare and his godlike body-builder muscles were on full display. Not only that, he was sweating like crazy. It was a hot day and he must have been doing work in the garden or doing exercises or something. He was drenched in sweat. Beads of sweat flowed down his pecs and dripped onto his 6-pack.

My parents' mouths dropped open. Well, he was pretty amazing to look at. But of course, there was the little issue of their knowing, their absolutely knowing, that I would be fucking attracted to Mr. Angelis's muscle-bound body. And his handsome face and flowing white hair didn't do anything to deflect that idea.

"You parents to Guy, yes?" he asked, wiping his hand on his muscular butt to get the sweat off it before offering it to my father. My Dad took his hand and shook it. Shit, my cock twitched, thinking about Mr. Angelis's muscular sweaty hand that had just passed over his butt cheek enclosing my Dad's hand, still sweaty despite the attempt to dry it.

My Dad did not flinch or object.

"Yes," he said simply, before introducing himself and my Mom.

When Mr. Angelis took my Mom's hand, he did not shake it but took the tips of her fingers and slowly, deliberately, fucking seductively, lowered his face, looking into her eyes and kissed her hand.

My Mom giggled like a schoolgirl.

My Dad gulped, seeing this muscle man flirting with his wife right in front of him.

It was fucking surreal.

"I help now," Mr. Angelis said as he slowly released my Mom's hand.

The rest of the unpacking went quickly. I saw, ever so often, my parents looking at Mr. Angelis's smoking hot body. So weird for a boy to see his Mom lusting after someone right in front of her husband and her homosexual son. But fuck me if I didn't see my Dad staring at Mr. Angelis's butt as he moved heavy boxes into my place. Shit, what did that mean? I mean, it could be innocent. Lots of straight guys admire guys with great physiques. But shit it could mean, it could fucking mean, that my Dad had lied to me all those years and that he wasn't a fucking 0 on the Kinsey scale. Maybe I was more like him than I thought.

For my part, I tried my best not to ogle my Greek landlord in front of my parents.

When everything was unloaded, my parents hugged me goodbye. They a dinner date with friends that night. Mr. Angelis was still there in my living room, still half naked, still sweating, still dripping beds of sweat from his pecs onto his stomach, still leaving trails on his face I just wanted to lick off, still a fucking model of a hunky daddy.

He kissed my Mom's hand again as he said goodbye to her and then took my father's hand. He gripped it firmly -- no caressing with his thumb the way he had with me -- and said, "He good boy. I keep safe. I take care of him. No worry about him. I am there..." and he pointed to the second floor apartment, "and I am here," he pointed down, "any time he need me. You have my phone. You call if need me to help your boy. I treat like my son. Safe with me."

The whole time he was gripping my Dad's hand and looking straight into my Dad's eyes.

Something clicked and my Dad smiled.

"Good," he said. "Very good. This is his first time living alone and it's good to know he has someone who will look out for him. We love him very much."

Mr. Angelis smiled.

"I look out for him. You cannot be here so I treat like my son. I love for you."

Shit, he was telling my Dad that we was going to love me.

I don't know what my Dad thought but my cock started its slow march to an erection. Mr. Angelis was going to love me. He was going to kiss me. He was going to fuck my bubble butt.

My Dad looked at me. He glanced down and, fuck me to hell, he saw my growing crotch. He looked at me again. Fuck it, he knew that Mr. Angelis made my dick throb. He knew that... What did he know? But my Dad, he was cool. He was still smiling. He was still holding Mr. Angelis's hand.

"Good," Dad said. "He deserves to be loved."

Holy fucking hell. That was a news flash.

Maybe my parents were coming to accept that I was who I was, that I wanted what I wanted, that...

Who the hell knows.

My Mom gave me another hug. So did my Dad. He hugged me close like he always did and he kissed my face. And he said, so softly no one else could hear, "You're in good hands."

And with that my parents left.

Holy fucking hell and a half.

I have no idea what my father was really thinking. I have no idea if he understood that Mr. Angelis had just told him that he was not just going to love me but make love with me.

I have no idea if he understood that the minute he left Mr. Angelis was going to step out of his sweaty gym shorts, put his hand on my shoulder, push me to my knees, open my mouth with his hands, and insert his cock between my lips.

I have no idea if he understood that as he was starting the car, I was starting to suck my landlord's cock.

I have no idea if he imagined that as he was hitting the Garden State Parkway that I was feeling my daddy's cock pulse and throb, pulse and throb, pulse and throb, or that, for the very first time in my life, I was learning what it felt like to have a man, a real man, a grown man old enough to be my father, tense his loins, moan out loud, and shoot his cum in my mouth so hard it hit the back of my throat, so hard that I had no choice but to swallow, no choice but to suck and drink, suck and drink, suck and drink, suck and drink.

I have no idea what my Dad was thinking as he drove home with my mother. I have no idea if he recognized that nobody could see Mr. Angelis and not feel drawn to him, or that eight years of therapy could not prevent me from feeling what my own Dad felt looking at my hunky landlord. I have no idea if he had finally come to accept the fact that hunky men made my cock hard and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I have no idea if he was thinking about his own cock getting hard imagining Mr. Angelis's cock embedded in his boy's ass.

I do know what I was thinking. I was sucking a Greek god's cock. I was servicing my landlord. I was a servant on my knees looking up at my lord. I was blowing my babas. I was licking his penis. I was feeling it throb and swell. I was feeling it piston in and out of my boy mouth. I was sharing, in the most intimate way possible, the manhood of a father figure I admired, looked up to, was in awe of. He was the embodiment of manhood and I was experiencing his manhood and taking some of it for my own. I was not being demeaned; I was not a faggot. I was a good boy. And I was finally getting to suck a real man's cock and do it so well that he shot his cum into my mouth and down my throat. I felt triumphant. I felt joy. I felt full. I And I drank it in. I drank it all in. Every fucking drop.

The bottom apartment part 5

That night I slept like a baby, the cum of my landlord in my stomach and the memory of his hand stroking my hair and my face as he said, "Good boy, good boy."

A week later I had mostly unpacked and had started my job. I left for work in the mornings around 8:30 am so I could get to the court house by 8:45. Each day, as I left the house, the neighbor next door left his house at the same time. First time I saw him, I smiled at him and he smiled back.

He was about 30 years old and had beautiful chocolate brown skin. He looked handsome across the fence but I was not close enough to get the full effect.

The third day he waved to me and walked over. As he approached, I saw his face more clearly. Damn he was handsome. He was like Michael Ealy or Shemar Moore. His eyes were hauntingly beautiful. And he was sporting a really short goatee framing a small smile. His skin was smooth and beautiful. He was toned but not a body builder. He walked with ease and grace. He walked toward me as if I were pulling him on a string.

"You just moved in," he said, extending his hand to shake mine. "I'm Dubois."

"That's right," I said, trying to be cool in front of this hunky stud. "I'm Guy."

He held my hand in a firm grip and did not let it go. He moved his face closer to mine and said, very quietly, "A bit of advice. Get some curtains."

Holy fuck.

He had seen me sucking my landlord's cock. He had seen me bring my legs to my shoulders and lose my virginity. He had seen Mr. Angelis make me his boy.

I started to take my hand away. He would not let me.

He was smiling more broadly now.

"Or better yet," he said, "don't get curtains. I kinda enjoyed the show."

My thoughts were racing. He had seen me getting fucked, he had seen me getting fucked, he had seen me getting fucked... And, Jesus H. Christ, he wanted to watch it happen again?

"Come over some time for a welcome dinner," he said softly. He leaned forward and whispered: "I'll feed you."

God Almighty, my cock spring alive in my pants. He was offering to let me suck his cock. He wanted me to be his cocksucker. He wanted me to drink his semen. He wanted me to... And God in heaven, the thought of being on my knees before this handsome studly guy and servicing him... shit I fucking wanted it, I wanted it, I wanted it...

"OK?" he asked, still whispering. "Will you let me feed you?"

I gulped and hestitated before answering.

He was hot. He was handsome. He was seductive. He would be my second guy ever. He would be my first black cock ever. He would be a second guy I could rely on to feed me.

But suppose I didn't want to suck him? Suppose I didn't want to be available at any time for two guys to fuck my face? He was my neighbor; I'd never be able to stop if I started sucking him. Would I be able to keep away from him if it became too much? Would he respect me in the morning? Would I be able to say no if I wanted to? Would I have the willpower to walk away as he looked deep into my eyes and asked if he could feed me?

Fuck it all.

I wanted to suck his dick. I fucking wanted to.

"Yes," I said. "Yes I will let you feed me."

And with that, he smiled and released my hand. "You free tonight? Say about 6:00?"

Holy fuck.

I thought about it. I thought about it.

"Please come over. I will feed you. You will come."

Dear mother of God, he was telling me that it was fated to happen. I had moved next to him. I had kneeled for my landlord. I had bent over and assumed the position. There was no backing out now. There was no way this could end but with my mouth around his thick black cock.

And I fucking wanted it. I wanted his cock. I wanted it badly.

"OK," I said, and that night promptly at six, I knocked on his door.

He let me in the house. He gave me a glass of red wine. He served me an excellent meal. He set a table lit by candles. He placed roses in a small vase on the table. He talked about his interests, he talked about his work. And all the while, I was staring at his handsome face, his beautiful lips, his long eyelashes, his taut pecs in a tight button down white shirt, his nipples visible against the fabric, his pants snug, his package prominent, his voice low and soft, his gaze seductive.

And when the dinner was over, he stood up, came over to me and said, "Let me show you something."

I stood up and followed him into his bedroom.

"Look," he said.

I looked and saw my bedroom lit up by my desk light that I had left on when I went to work in the morning. I saw my bed. I saw my room. I saw everything. No curtains.

He was standing behind me and gently, slowly, he moved forward so his crotch was against my ass, his arms were around me holding my pecs and caressing them, his lips were near my ear.

This was where he watched me suck my landlord's thick Greek penis. And he was hugging me now like he was my lover.

And then his hand was under my chin lifting my face up to the second floor. Fucking A, it was Mr. Angelis's bedroom. He had no fucking curtains either. And there, holy shit, right there in front of us, Mr. Angelis was fucking his wife. HIs muscular torso gleamed, his godlike ass moved up and down, up and down, up and down, and his cock slipped inside his wife and out, in and out, in and out.

And as we watched, Mr. Angelis looked at us. He fucking looked at us. And he fucking smiled. He could see us. He could see Dubois as he turned me around, as he pushed me to my knees, as he undid his belt, as he slid his pants down, as he pushed his crotch into my face, as he slid down his briefs, and as he placed his beautiful, long, cut black cock against my face next to my nose, rubbing it up and down on my cheek and then positioning it against my lips, rubbing his cock back and forth, back and forth, wetting them with his precum. And just as I was sure that Mr. Angelis was looking at us, just as I was sure that he was still fucking his wife, Dubois pushed his cock into my mouth and I started to suck. I started to suck.

I licked his beautiful mushroom head with my young tongue. I felt its silky smoothness. I felt it dripping precum. I licked the pisshole and swallowed the precum. I took it in and sucked. I sucked my new friend Dubois, my neighbor, my buddy, my lover.

"That's it," he said, as he fucked my face, gently, deeply, insistently, caressing my head, stroking my hair, controlling my movements so I sucked him the way he wished.

"Look at me," he said. "Look up to me."

I looked up to him. I looked up at him. He was gorgeous. He was sexy. He was manly. And I was where I wanted to be, on my knees, sucking his dick, feeling him share his manhood with me, feeling him making love to my mouth, feeling him throbbing on my tongue.

"The dining room was the first course. Here is the second."

And his cock fucking exploded in my mouth. His cum was hot, it was thick, it was sweet. It was the cum of a gentleman. It was the cum of my neighbor. It was the cum of one of the most handsome guys I had ever seen. And he was willing to give it to me. He wanted me to take it. He wanted me to be on my knees servicing him. He wanted to welcome me to the neighborhood. He wanted me to melt in the candlelight dinner where he had quietly, and effectively, seduced me. He wanted me there. He wanted me on my knees. He wanted to feed me.

And so he did.

The bottom apartment part 6

Later that same night I was asleep in my bed. I had sucked the second cock of my young life. I had learned what it was like to swallow another man's cum. I had learned to service the cock of a Greek stud and I had learned to make love to the cock of an incredibly handsome African American man. They both liked it. They had both thanked me. They had both caressed my face and told me I was a good boy.

They both knew that the deed was done. The die was cast. There was no going back. I was living under Mr. Angelis. I was living next to Dubois. They both needed a boy. I was a boy.

I had become what I always knew, deep down, that I really was. I had become a cocksucker.

And damn if my psychiatrist could go to hell. I had finally gotten to suck cock, and it was good. It was very good.

I was dreaming about sucking two cocks at the same time when I felt a weird pressure. A vine was wrapping itself around me. It was holding me, crawling up my chest and down my stomach. It was sliding over my cock. It was between my legs. It was, fuck me, it was entering my asshole. It was going inside me. At first, I tried to get away from the invasion. I tried and tried but the more I struggled the deeper the vine went inside me and the more strongly it encased my body. And then, fuck me, it started to go in and out. In and out. It started to fuck me. It started to feel...

And holy hell I woke up on my side in my bed encased in Mr. Angelis's arms, his mouth on my ear sucking my earload, piercing my ear with his tongue. And his thick Zeus cock embedded to the hilt in my no longer virgin asshole.

It was a fucking shock.

I reacted by trying to get away. I was not fully awake. I struggled.

No dice.

HIs cock was embedded in me. He was fucking me. He was fucking turned on by my ass and by feeling it encasing his throbbing cock. He was turned on by my struggle to get away. His cock was where it belonged. His cock was encased in my tight wet hole. His cock was where he wanted it to be. And there it was going to stay. it felt too good. It felt too fucking good. He had wanted a boy. He had wanted a boy to be available to take his throbbing cock. And there I was, in the bottom apartment, in his father's bed, naked and alone. He had a key. He had used it. He had a cock. He had the key to my ass and he inserted it. He was fucking his boy. There was no way, no way in hell, he was going to let me get away.

He was strong. He was powerful. He was Zeus. And he had come down from up above to share my bed. He had come to unload in my ass.

His grip on me was firm. His held me tight, letting him fuck me fully, slowly, deeply. His physical power was overwhelming.

And his cock felt amazing.

I suddenly realized that it felt amazing.

Why was I trying to get away? His cock felt amazing.

I moaned. I was fucking hard as a rock.

"God, you're fucking me," I said.

And he flipped me on my stomach, my ass up in the air, his cock still embedded in my ass, and he started to fuck me hard, his cock withdrawing almost to the outside and then plunging all the way into me. Withdrawing, plunging, withdrawing, plunging. He had opened me up. And now my bubble butt boy ass was there below him. It's what he wanted. It's what he fucking wanted. And nothing on earth was going to stop him from fucking his boy, from being a real daddy.

I saw the time on the clock. It was 2:30 am, the middle of the night. He had fucking entered my apartment, taken off his clothes, climbed into my bed where I was sleeping naked, and slipped his cock into my boy ass. He had started fucking me while I slept. He had pushed his cock in and held me tight as I tried to escape. He had held me firm. He had kept his cock deep inside me. He had started fucking. He had opened me up. He had hit my prostate gland. He had repeatedly passed his cock over my prostate. He had loosened me up, he had masturbated me from the inside. He had fucked his boy just as he had promised.

His cock pistoning in and out of me felt like heaven. He was going to make me cum. He was going to make me shoot my semen in his father's bed. He was going to take his father's place. He was going to fill me up with his daddy milk.

He was fucking and fucking and fucking and fucking.

And then I fucking shot my load. I shot and shot and shot.

And so did he. So did he.

I felt my ass filling wtih spurts of his liquid. I felt the impact as his gun fired bullets of thick semen against my insides. I felt the impact of his cock, his shots of cum, his tongue fucking my ear.

We both spasmed several more times. My cock forced out the last of my cum. His cock did the same, and each time he thrust his cock deep inside me, hitting the wall of my intestine with such intensity that it made me shudder.

And when it was over, when he lay on top of me with his cock till throbbing in my asshole, he whispered in my ear.

"I told you I would come when I need to come. When I need to come. Well I needed to cum. It was an emergency. I needed my beautiful boy."

And with that he slowly slipped out of me, climbed off the bed, bent over the side and kissed my face and whispered in my ear.

"Back to sleep, my good boy, back to sleep."

And with the cum of two men in my stomach and the cum of one man in my asshole, I sighed and closed my eyes. And felt back into slumber.

That's what it was like for me from then on. Neither one was jealous. Neither one begrudged the other.

It was a good apartment. A bottom apartment. That's what I was. That's what I wanted to be. A good boy. A good bottom.

You better bet I was. I got loads of practice. Every day. Loads and loads. Right up my ass.

Short Guy Stories

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/driving-instructor

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/play-like-a-man

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/the-bottom-apartment

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/office-hours

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/will-you-be-my-buddy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/daddy-issues


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