| The Laundry Room | ||
| Hi. My name is Jeff and at the time
of this story I was 24. I am a pretty good-looking guy (if I may say so myself)
and work out on a regular basis. I have been "out" ever since college and am
comfortable with it. People at work and even at the gym know about me, and it
does not seem to bother anyone. So why is it that I am not terribly successful
in meeting Mr. Right is beyond my comprehension? I go to the bars, some social
events, and any other cultural things that gay people go to. I have a few gay
buddies I hang with; none of them is "marriage" material. Usually the people I
meet are either jerks or seem more interested in one-night stands. The other problem is that I am attracted to the wholesome guy type. The kind who is usually straight -- with a girlfriend or a wife. Sometimes I go nuts over a well-proportioned guy in the park walking around with his baby carriage. The second character in our story is Adam. As you guessed, he is straight and I am just gaga over him. He lives in the same apartment complex, just two doors down from me. He is also 24. He apparently is a very successful stockbroker. He likes hoops, and works out at the same gym as I do. I have seen him multiple times come home with some girl or another, but none for too long at a time. My interaction with him has been limited. Most of our conversations have been in the hallway or the elevator ride. Mostly casual. A couple of times we had a short chat at the gym, mostly superficial stuff. He must know about my sexuality, I figured. How could he not know!? Or else why does he keep a comfortable distance even though we live on the same floor and go to the same gym. He never initiated any social interaction, and neither did I. His body, though, was awesome. Short brown hair on top of an angel face. Well-defined chin, strong features (Christopher Reeves look-alike). Pecs that definitely show the time investment in them. And the honeydews that made up his bubble-butt can give any one a craving. Needless to say, he had been the subject of many jerk off sessions. But I knew my limitations and did not attempt anything with this guy. The action in this story took place one Saturday evening late summer. I went to a gay bar downtown. As usual, the weirdoes and misfits, the jerks, and the sluts were all having a reunion. Nobody new there, and nobody worth going home with. About 2 in the morning I gave up and finally headed back home. As I pulled into the driveway into the garage, I saw Adam's car in front of me. He must have also just come back, and the passenger seat was empty this time. We both parked our cars and met at the elevator entrance. He looked like he had a few drinks, and was a bit tipsy. "Hey bud, what's up?" I said. "Not much just tired." "I hear you," I replied. "Empty-handed tonight, huh?" "Yeah, no luck tonight. And it is not for lack of trying either." "Me too." I commented. I did not know if this was the right time to discuss anything about my sex life. "Too bad." "Yup." "You know, when your luck dries out, you can always rely on Rosie Palm." By now the elevator door had opened on our floor, and as he finished his sentence he went towards his end of the hallway. "Good night," he said as he took his keys out and entered his apartment. Oh man, this is all I needed. I was horny as hell, and the subject of so many of my fantasies just told me he is going to jerk off. The idea of him fisting his cock, as I was alone in my apartment was too much. I rushed into my bedroom and took everything off. I figured, I could play with myself too. What better fantasy than to know for sure that Adam is holding his manhood as I am playing with mine. But the thought was too disturbing. What kind of loser am I? Lusting after a straight man will only fuck with my mind further. I gave it up. I rolled under the covers and tried to sleep. Yeah, like I was going to fall asleep... Nope, 15 minutes later, and the images of Adam shooting his juice just a few feet away were too much. Well, this sleep thing ain't gonna happen, so plan B. Plan B no good either, because there was nothing on TV. Plan C: do laundry, so that I might as well get something done. I got the dirty laundry bag, detergent, and some quarters, and headed for the door. Just as I closed the door behind me, Adam's door. "Great minds work alike," he said. He was also heading to the basement to do his laundry. He must have not expected to see anyone on the way or downstairs, because he was wearing a pair of dirty old shorts and a torn T-shirt, no socks or shoes. "I guess you couldn't fall asleep either," he said. "Nope." By now we entered the elevator to head down to the basement. He was still tipsy, as he stumbled a few times on the way there. The laundry room is kinda small. Two washers and two dryers. We entered the room. He took over the first washer and I took over the second one. I was dying to find out how did it go with Rosie Palm. But I did not dare mention anything. "Rosie Palm said she had a headache tonight..." he said and then started laughing. "Huh?" "I said, you know what Rosie Palm is, right?" He asked. "Oh sure, I--ah--just was not expecting to hear about that." He laughed. "Yeah, I tried, and nothing happened. So I figured I'll do laundry, especially since I am on my last pair of clean underwear." He continued to load the washer with his stuff. "What's keeping you up?" He asked. "The same," I said. "Same what?" "You know, Rosie Palm did not work for me either." Was that too much information at this point? I was almost done loading my washer. "Too bad." I finished the load and poured the detergent in. Quarters in, and the wash started. "FUCK!" I hear next to me. Adam, apparently still tipsy, had stumbled and spilled the liquid detergent over his T-shirt and his shorts. "Shit, now I have this crap all over me. Fuck! I am totally drenched." With that he took off his T-shirt and tossed it into the washer before I got a chance to say anything. Well, that was a pleasant surprise. A free view of Adam's torso right next to me. Yup, I was right about the way I had always pictured those pecs of his. Nicely developed with big, dark, juicy nipples in the middle of each mound. Good thing I was not drunk, or those nipples would be an instant snack for me. I couldn't help staring. He was not looking at me. He was still apparently concerned about the spill on his shorts. "I hope you won't mind," and the shorts came off in one motion and ended up in the washer too. Now he was only in his white boxer briefs. The kind that has a big gaping hole in the front which gives you a clue about the goodies inside without showing it all. I was dumbfounded. I was breathless. A strip show like this is definitely not what I was expecting as I headed out to do laundry in the middle of the night. "Damn, this shit went all the way through to the boxers." He put his thumbs inside his waistband, and took it off and tossed it inside the machine too... I--I-- This was too much. I must have not taken a breath in for at least ten minutes at that point. This was way too much eye candy for me. His cock was there for me to gaze at. He was cut, with low-hanging balls. Nicely shaped pubes to top it all. Not an ounce of fat to be found anywhere on him. He casually closed the washer lid, loaded the quarters and pressed the start button. Then he turned around again and faced me. "Hope you won't tell the management..." he said. I still had not taken in a breath. He hopped on top of the washer and sat with his legs spread. His cock was now getting filled. In no time, it was fully erect, and Adam looked at it with admiration. When the tip had almost touched his nipples, he looked up at me. I was still not sure if the whole thing was a dream or what. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He asked. "Ah..." "You know what you want big boy, and I want you to have it tonight." "But..." "Get on the job before I sober up and change my mind." I knew this was wrong. Taking advantage of a drunken man is wrong. But the temptation was too much. Like a magnet I was drawn to his cock. I walked slowly towards him. I was going to just dive into his groin and take it all in. But he grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me towards him. "What, no foreplay? No kissing?" With that, he planted his lips on mine. I opened up and took in tongue and let him explore all the little spaces of my mouth. Now, I was getting drunk. Not from alcohol, but from the excitement. I could feel my knees buckle. I leaned back to support myself. He took advantage of the position and started to kiss my neck. Then my ears. Oh, he knew what he was doing with his tongue in my ear. I needed to have him. I leaned forward and took in his left nipple. It was just as tasty as I always imagined it to be. I traced a line down to his bellybutton, kissing every inch down. His cock was pointing at me. I held it, looked up to his face, and with that unspoken approval, I took it in. Ah, it was amazing. Straight, veiny, and as hard as a rock. Not too big to choke on it, but big enough to tickle the back of my throat. I took it all in, and his moans confirmed my expertise at giving head. I savored the moment, giving the task at hand (and mouth) all the attention I got. He leaned back, with his head touching the wall behind the washer. He wet his fingers with his saliva and massaged his nipples as I worked his cock. Normally, I give extra anal stimulation to increase the sensation. But touching a straight man's chute was too much for me to try at this point. I did not want to freak him out. Before you knew it, Adam climaxed in my mouth. I was not going to let any of that man juice drip out. I took an extra long breath and took all the sperm in. He moaned so loud that I thought someone might come running in. Shit, I can't believe that the moment is over. He got his rock off, tomorrow I'll see him in the hallway and he will act all weird. He'll tell me that he was drunk and did not know what he was doing, and that as far as he was concerned the whole thing never happened. "That was the best head, man. I guess all those rumors about gay men giving the best head is true," he said. "You betch ya!" I stood up, and took a step back to let him off the washer. "Where are you going, lover boy?" he asked. I froze. He put his legs over my shoulder, exposing his magnificent asshole to me. He reached down and massaged my crotch through my pants. "I believe it is your turn to let out your steam." I was puzzled. He picked up on that. "Boy, you are slow. You gotta jump on the opportunities more often. I am offering you my ass, so take it. I always wondered how it might be to have another man inside of you, the way I am always inside all these girls. Tonight is your big night, so go for it." Well, that was all the green light I needed. I dropped my pants and took out my rod. I started by fingering the outside of his hole gently .A virgin ass takes some work before it is ready for a whole man. I massaged the sphincter and then slipped one finger in. He gasped, half in pleasure, half in pain. Then came a second finger, and the third after a few minutes. He should be ready now. Besides, I may cum before I even insert. I walked up and touched my tip to his ass. I looked him in the eyes. He nodded, signaling he was ready for me. I slowly went in. First the sphincter, then the chute. And now I was in. I let him get adjusted to the size before I started pumping. I went slow at first, and picked up the pace as his ass allowed me. He was getting into it. And I made sure that I encrypt this moment in my long-term memory, as it may never happen again. I was near. And when he dug his nails in my back, I came. Loads of hotcum inside my idol. I collapsed on top of him, with the washer still spinning. As we were both sweating with pleasure, the washer finished its cycle, and stopped. I withdrew my cock and helped him off the washer. We stood facing each other, and engaged in a lone tonguing session. It seemed like it went on forever. Finally we broke off. Maybe he had sobered up. After some irrelevant small talk, we loaded up our respective dryers. He was still naked. By 5 in the morning, the dryers were done. He wore the same pair of shorts he had on when he had come down, and we headed back up. Once we stepped out of the elevator, he said: "Take care," and went towards his place. I just looked at him, wondering what is going to be the nature of our interaction from now on. He opened the door and went in. I went into my apartment. Off to bed. I was exhausted, satisfied, and worried. I took advantage of a drunk man... Six in the morning, and someone was knocking on the door. I was startled. I opened the door, and it was Adam. "I want more," is all he said. He landed his lips on mine before I got a chance to answer, pushed us in and closed the door. He grabbed my hand and took me to my bed. He made me show him all kinds of pleasures known only to gay men, and he was willing to experiment with anything. By that afternoon, he was done exploring. He was satisfied. "So is this a revelation for you?" I asked. "A new beginning?" "I think I know what you are getting at. No. I always knew I was bi. Just never had the guts to explore it. Last night I was horny enough and drunk enough to let go of my inhibitions. And who better than my neighbor?" We kept on talking for a while. We became good friends, and occasional fuck buddies. We used each other to let out our sexual frustrations when there was a dry streak, as we looked for romance elsewhere. Which was a perfect arrangement for me. I did not mind him knocking on my door all possible hours of the day or night and letting me be his Rosie Palm. |
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