Disclaimers: This work is a work of fiction and is my property.
The story and characters are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone or any actual event is coincidental. There are three distinctly different main characters that will appear as the story progresses.
You should be legally allowed to read this type of material before continuing.
As it is based on an actual book, I had published a few years ago -- free for your enjoyment -- the story will not contain explicit material in all the chapters BUT don't fret, as it is more the exception than the rule.
Note that in one chapter to come, there will be a sexually violent scenario. If this will trigger any trauma for you, please be aware of it before you start reading.
Please direct any comments or feedback to my email address at davidrolsynauthor2019@gmail.com.
Enjoy! And remember to donate to Nifty!
CHAPTER ONE
William Morgan
I walk swiftly towards the front door of my apartment building. It is cold in the city this afternoon and the colorless buildings in the neighborhood emphasize the impersonal nature of life in the urban jungle.
The chill on my bare legs is palpable, more so because they are smoothly shaven to a soft, pearly sheen. It's a bold move to slip out to the drugstore in a pair of tight-fitting denim shorts that hardly cover the back of my ass. I'm also sporting a black sleeveless Tank top. The outfit emphasizes the androgynous look that has always plagued me, but I must admit I enjoy pushing the boundaries of perception by playing right into it!
Of course, I get a few stares on the way to the store and back, especially from the men who pass me by. I pretend to be oblivious, covering my face with my shoulder-length hair, even though my stomach is in knots and my breathing is slightly faster than normal. I may crave and want the attention, it's still a daring step for me. If any guy notices that I am in fact male, I'm sure to invite some abuse or public ridicule. Especially if it is in front of other guys.
This wouldn't be the first time.
I accepted my look years ago and have given up on finding someone who would love and appreciate me for who I am instead of what I look like. At least this look hasn't meant that I live out a life of perpetual loneliness because sometimes, when I happen to be alone with a straight guy who's up for a bit of experimentation, I get lucky. The gay guys I meet seem to be put off by my effeminate appearance.
The one downer of having these few opportunities is that sometimes I misread their intentions and have found myself at the end of a fist a few times already. Then there've been those who inevitably blame me afterwards and want to fuck me up for leading them on.
It's a gamble, I know, but it's better than being alone.
The six-floor high apartment building I live in has a courtyard on the ground floor. The elevator I normally take up to my apartment is at the one end of the courtyard, close to the entrance. On the opposite side, is the stairwell that runs from the basement parking all the way up to the roof. I don't use it because I don't own a car, as yet.
At the entrance, while checking for my mailbox, a tall shadow wavers up the stairs entering the building from the sidewalk.
My gut clenches. Being in such a small space and possibly having a man scrutinize or try and engage me, may end badly. Today my courage fails me and I abandon the mailbox and rush to press the "up" button on the elevator. Trembling, I hope it's near enough for me to slip into and disappear out of sight. I don't want to give him a chance to catch up with me.
As is my luck, this doesn't happen and the old elevator makes a rumbling noise, approaching the ground floor slowly and eventually coming to a loud halt. By now, he's behind me and waiting to get in.
A sweet musky smell with a hint of garlic fills my nose.
His eyes are boring into me. I am sure of it. Sweat gathers at the base of my neck. He must be checking out my ass and legs. This is not surprising, because they are my best assets, had I actually been a girl of course. I'm sure he appreciates the view even if it frightens me a little.
I decide that when I get into the elevator, I'll keep my head down to allow my hair to flop forward and cover my face, disguising any possibility of him noticing my Adams-apple. If I focus on the floor, it'll look like I'm deep in thought or just shy. Hopefully.
The elevator creaks to a stop.
I try to maintain the illusion and delicately open the old-fashioned gate door. Of course, it gets stuck.
"Let me." He reaches around me to open it.
"Thanks," I mutter.
I get into the elevator and quickly press the button for the second floor. It'll probably be polite to ask him which floor he is going to.
"What floor?"
"Third, please."
His voice is gruff, but he clearly pronounces his words. Great, he's not some sort of brute then.
"You've lived here long?" he asks.
I'm startled at his question and tighten my grip on my shopping.
Maybe he's just trying to be nice. I keep as much of my fringe in my face while I glance up at him. He is as least six foot tall, has a strong firm jaw, high cheekbones, perceptive green eyes, and dark brown hair. His hair isn't short but not that long either, rather sort of page-boyish. He is wearing tight jeans and from what I can see has a sizeable package on him. His check shirt and a suede waistcoat hides a broad chest and narrow waist. He's also sporting a pair of dirty black workers' boots.
"Yes, I've been staying here for about a year now. Are you visiting? I haven't seen you around before."
"No. I actually just moved in yesterday." A slight irritation roughens his tone.
He stares at me more perceptively. By now I'm sure he's noticed that I'm not a girl.
My heart beats rapidly... Will he confront me for presenting this illusion and taking it too far?
"Welcome to the building. I'm in number twenty-two. If you want a welcoming cup of coffee sometime, look me up," I blurt out just before the door opens on my floor.
I get out of the elevator and head briskly for my apartment. Why the hell did I invite him for coffee??
I open my front door, quickly close it behind me and hook the latch. I stare through the peephole to see if anyone has followed me.
For a few minutes, I just stand there, listening, with my heartbeat pounding in my throat. My racing heart eventually slows, and I go to the kitchen to put down the few items I had bought. I pour myself a glass of water to calm my nerves.
As I'm about to put the empty glass into the sink, someone knocks at my door. I nearly drop the glass!
"Coming!"
Through the peephole, I see him standing there. The dread mixed with a hint of excitement returns. I'm not sure what to do. Do I just ignore him or open the door?
Oh yeah, I had just invited him for coffee. I open the door, leaving the chain still on its latch.
"I thought I'd take you up on that coffee." His expression is serious with intent.
He makes me nervous.
He doesn't even ask if it's a good time for me. How rude? Nevertheless, I let him in for lack of having an excuse not to do so. I did invite him after all.
"That was quick..." I quip.
He steps inside, and I close and latch the door behind him.
As I turn around, he grabs me and plants a kiss on my lips. I feel the force of his mouth and his arms as he grabs me. He pushes me hard against the door and darts his tongue inside, regardless of any resistance on my part.
He cups my ass in his large hands and pulls me into him. His erection stabs through both our jeans, and my head is throbbing with excitement.
My heart is now also going a hundred miles per hour and my head's about to explode. I open my mouth to say...
"Don't speak."
He continues to ravage me and bites my right ear then trails kisses all the way down my neck.
Up until now my hands have been dangling lifelessly at my sides. Thrilling tremors consume me, so I claw at his back, proving, with as much strength as I can muster, that I can also bring it to the party, in abundance!
This only entices him to manhandle me more forcefully as he moves me over to the center of the room.
He suddenly looks up and quickly scans the apartment. He returns to groping and kissing me, pushing me towards my bedroom.
He shoves me onto the bed. I sit up and watch as he undoes his belt and unbuttons his jeans. One by one the buttons release.
By now my mouth is dry...the excitement, mixed with the fear, threatens to overwhelm me. Is this actually happening?
He answers my question by grabbing his dick, yanking it out of his briefs and shoving it towards me.
"Suck!" he insists.
I grab his dick with my one hand and scoot forward so I can take it in my mouth.
"No hands!"
My trembling hand lets go of it. I engulf the head and start suckling and nibbling on the rough, leathery texture, sliding my tongue around the sides of his engorged dickhead.
He grabs my hair and forces himself further into my mouth. I nearly choke on his length, but manage to control my gag reflex and get some sort of breathing going. My eyes well up from the shock and force of it all.
His dick tastes great. I smell a hint of soap and musk and let myself consume him, swirling my tongue around the head at a rapid pace, flicking the tip against the slit.
He groans and face-pumps me while holding my head very still, my hair scrunched up between his fingers.
He's making it difficult for me to breathe but I love his dominance.
Suddenly he yanks his dick out of my mouth.
"Strip."
He steps back. I get up, standing upright on the bed. He glares at me. His eyes brim with lust as he stares at my waist and down towards my legs. I lift my Tank top over my head and unzip my jean shorts. I pull them and my briefs down simultaneously and carefully step out of them. Before I can kick them to one side, he pushes me back onto the bed and looks at me, as if I'm a means to an end. A willing body for an urgent need.
I am acutely aware of my own hard-on standing proudly. Is this pushing the limits of his willingness to continue? There is no illusion as to what he is getting himself into now. If there was any to begin with.
He seems to make up his mind quickly and takes off his waistcoat, shirt, shoes, jeans, and briefs. Naked, except for his socks, he moves towards me.
He grabs both my ankles, lifts up my legs and pulls them wide apart. I'm completely vulnerable and my body is trembling. He pushes me backwards and at the same time, kneels onto the side of the bed with a lustful expression. His eyes are focused on my ass. It seems who and what I am is irrelevant to the lust he wants satisfied.
"Keep 'em there," he orders me.
He grabs a pillow and shoves it under my ass.
He spits in his hand, rubs it on his dick and positions the tip towards the entrance of my ready hole. He bends forward slightly and puts his hands at the sides of my hips. I curl my legs around his shoulders.
For a moment, there is nothing...then he leans in farther and starts pushing his dick into me.
I gasp when the burn hits me. I moan. He ignores me and pushes until he is deep inside, right up to the hilt.
The agony!
Tears stream down the side of my face, and I'm about to plead with him to pull out when he starts pumping into me. Slowly at first, but then he increases his tempo.
Although I'm on fire and want to cry out from the pain, pleasure slowly fights its way to the surface.
Because of the position, I'm in and the angle of his thrusts, he starts pounding hard against my prostate. The sensation overcomes me.
He told me to keep quiet, but I can't control myself and moan louder and louder.
"Oh yes! Fuck me!"
He fucks me faster and rougher, and I'm overwhelmed by the intoxicating smell of his sweat, the sound of his rapid breathing, his grunting, and my own blood throbbing through my head.
He fucks on and on and on, and the tips of my toes and my fingers start to tingle. Our energy rises and threatens to consume me. I grab my own dick and stroke it rapidly.
Waves of immense pleasure come and go with every one of his thrusts, and he groans louder and louder. I hear myself shouting at him to fuck me harder, again and again. This spurs him on. His pace quickens so much that it seems he's trying his best to split me in two.
My balls tighten and uncontrollably, I shoot my pent-up cum all over my stomach, my chest, my chin. My hand is full of it and I carry on stroking my dick, riding out my orgasm for as long as it'll possibly last...
"Fuck!!" he shouts and his face is scrunched up with determination and his eyes are ablaze.
He squirts into me, thrusting harder and deeper than even seems possible.
He slows down his thrusts but continues to pump his cum deep inside me until he is completely spent.
He holds me for a moment, without moving. Our heavy breathing is the only thing I hear. My legs are in spasm, shivering from the pain and the pleasure.
He suddenly pulls out and goes to the washroom.
I gently place my feet on the floor. My legs are trembling. Should I say something?
When he comes back from the washroom his gait is purposeful. He has a sexy well-built ass with big dimples in the cheeks. He says nothing to me and dresses. He heads for the front door and turns around with a smirk on his face.
"Thanks for the welcome."
The door unlocks with a click then creaks closed as he leaves.
I stare at the ceiling. What the hell just happened? Though the sex was great and I cannot complain about my aching muscles, I was once again just cannon-fodder for another guy's lust. I want more. I want to be loved and be able to love them in return.
Stop your whining, I tell myself
A few days later I'm at Ozzie and Belinda's place, and we're all sitting on the floor in their sitting room.
I sip my coffee and put it down next to me.
They're arguing again about who played the night before at the club. It was some local band but I'm not even remotely interested.
Unlike the two of them, I'm not much of a heavy metal fan, but I enjoy the fact that I can head-bang with my long hair to the beat. I am even able to join the girls when they swing their hair from side to side, instead of only up and down, the way all the guys do it.
"I'm telling you it was `Disorder'!" Ozzie exclaims annoyingly.
"No, it was `Disorderly Conduct'!"
Ozzie suddenly gets up and storms off and Belinda just shrugs.
"He'll be back, Will. By the way, I've got someone interesting coming round later and I'm sure you guys will get along great."
I look at Belinda and wonder how to respond to that.
I'm very dubious about meeting new people and being set up like this is my least favorite thing in the world. Also, Ozzie and Belinda like mingling with other Metalheads. I'm not sure I want to meet this "someone."
"Is it a guy or a girl?"
"It is a guy, dude!"
I hate being called that. I'm so not a dude. Considering her passion for alternative, gothic, metal, and punk music, I find it odd that she'd call anyone a "dude." The fact that she grew up at the coast might explain it. Who knows!
Nonetheless.
"Where do you know him from?"
"He works with me at the photo studio. I think he's from out of town. He's been with us for just over a month now."
"Oh."
Ozzie comes back into the room and plonks himself down on the floor.
"I was telling Will about Joshua. You know? The guy who works with me?"
"Oh, that prick." He slaps Belinda gently on her thigh.
"Don't call him that. He's just intense. I actually get along with him well, and he's got some interesting stories to tell."
"Well, I don't like him. He looks like a scumbag."
"You're just being a dick." She sticks her tongue out at him.
A knock at the door.
"Someone's at the door, Ozzie," I interrupt them.
Ozzie sighs and gets up to answer the door. Someone asks if Belinda is home, as I cannot see who's outside from where I'm sitting.
"Well go see for yourself, she's over there." He points in our direction.
I am immediately struck by how much he resembles Chris O'Donnell from the Batman movies. His facial features are identical to that of the actor, and they even have the same brush cut. However, his build is unusual in that he has a narrow waist with a strong torso and bulky hips and legs. He has a strange intensity about him by the way he looks perceptively at everything. It seems as if he takes in every little detail.
His shoulders are broad, but not overly large. He has a good set of arms, and his muscles push against and stretch the sleeves of his T-shirt. The shirt was obviously bought to fit him snugly around his defined pecs and narrow waist. I can actually see the contours of his six-pack through the white fabric. He must be extremely fit.
His trousers are snug too, showing off his ample package nicely. It's definitely the promise of something. His thighs strain against the black fabric. Odd. His calves seem to be nearly as broad as his thighs. His sturdy and strong gait is emphasized by the sound of his heavy boots on the wooden floor.
I breathe in sharply.
"Hi, Joshua. Glad you could make it, dude. I want you to meet someone. This is Will" Belinda points in my direction.
He turns to me and looks me up and down. His bland expression turns into a grimace. How rude.
"Hi." I'm about to get up to shake his hand when he turns his attention back to Belinda and mutters something. Possibly some sort of greeting, I'm not sure.
Ozzie had followed him into the lounge and looks at me and him. I can see he wants to say something but I mouth a "No" for him to leave it. It's clear he doesn't like him. We've been friends since high school and I know his mannerisms all too well. When he goes to sit down, he picks up their cat and starts stroking and cuddling it. His way of ignoring Joshua.
My best friend either likes or dislikes someone within the first few seconds of meeting them and if he doesn't like them, he never changes his mind.
"Come sit with us. We were just talking about you" Belinda tells Joshua.
"Why?!" He seems alarmed.
"Don't be so paranoid. I was telling Will that you tell the most interesting stories. Tell us a cool story, Joshua, maybe something from your childhood?"
"No."
An awkward silence follows, and I excuse myself.
I enter the washroom to take a leak and as I take it out I notice my dick is slightly fuller than normal. Anyway, the guy is obviously an asshole and I brush off any further thought on whether he is worth puzzling or fantasizing about.
Shaking my dick a few times and zipping up, I turn to wash my hands and hear raised voices from the lounge. Ozzie and Belinda are probably arguing again about something or the other.
As I unlock the door and start walking towards them, I pause. The conversation is about me.
"It's just that I didn't expect you guys to be friends with a fag."
"He's my friend. In fact, he's the brother I never had. Who the fuck are you to insult him in my own place?!"
"Hey, hey, to each his own. I just don't like faggots."
"Come on, Joshua. He's a nice guy once you get to know him."
"No, Belinda. I think I better leave. I wouldn't want to catch something." He chuckles meanly.
With that Ozzie jumps up and opens the front door for Joshua to leave. On his way out, Joshua walks by the passage leading to the washroom. He spots me standing there and stares at me, his eyes cold.
"Fucking faggot," he mutters under his breath.
I'm sure Ozzie wants to pummel the man right now, but because Joshua is Belinda's colleague, he's probably trying his best to control himself.
Joshua leaves and Ozzie slams the door behind him. "What a fucking dickhead!"
He looks at me as I walk towards him.
"Don't worry about him, he's an idiot" Ozzie assures me.
"Give it six months. We'll end up fucking," I say, to save face.
Belinda joins us. "I don't think so, Will... Over the last month, I've seen him flirt with all the girls who come into the studio, and he's always ogling the photos we do of them in their swimsuits."
With that I decide it's time to leave and I go get my jacket.
"Come on, bud. Stay a little longer?"
"Thanks, Ozzie, but I'm not in the mood anymore. In any case, I need to get back to my place before it gets dark. You know how dangerous walking in the city is at night."
"I'm sorry, Will. I really thought he was someone you would get along with because he's also into the arty stuff."
"No worries, Belinda. Like I said, give it six months."
I kiss her goodbye and hug Ozzie as he sees me out.