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Phallus Mountain By Mario Wallace Chapter One: Priapus in the Shoe-Shop
It all started at the end of a really long day. I was working as a shoe salesman in downtown Boston and edging towards the end of a double-shift I covered for my loves-to-callout-co-worker Jeff. Our shop was small, not extremely busy, but riddled with all sorts of opening and closing tasks that would exhaust any one employee. I was working the store alone on this day, and just finished sweeping the storage room floor when the bell at the front desk rang.
Odd. I closed the shop over an hour ago, I remembered locking up, but somehow, it seemed someone got in. I opened the storage room door and saw a man standing in the middle of the sales-floor completely naked. He was tall, roughly six-five, almost a foot taller than me, and had light-brown skin. His long legs were smooth, like the rest of his body; his head was shaved; his uncut penis was fully erect, and more than a foot long. It protruded off of his body like a baseball bat, oozing precum from the fleshy end.
"Sir," I managed to say, swallowing the building saliva in my mouth, "we're closed." "I am not your sir, sir," he replied, in a joyous, loud voice.
"I'm sorry but-" "I'm pleased to be of your service, Dennis Cohen."
"I don't understand what-" "Sir," he interrupted, "you may call me Priapus."
"Pryupa? I-" "Priapus, sir."
"Priapus, yes, whatever; look, it's been a long day and we're closed."
"Sir, if I may, do I look like a man trying to buy shoes?"
"No, you're naked. That's the other problem; there's cameras here, and windows." "Oh, I assure that no person can see me. I am not invisible, or a hallucination, I am an all-powerful being who has chosen to appear to you, and you alone." "I don't have time for this," I reached for my phone.
"I know that you gave a man a foot massage in your backroom today," he announced, lowering his thick brows to look at me.
"What?" I put my phone away, "That's crazy." "I am the God of Gay Wish. I judge your sexuality, and sexual deviancy, with high favor." His penis was facing me, I looked down at it like a shotgun pointed at my face. There was roughly four-inches of foreskin covering the head, and more than six drops of pre-ejaculate dripped from it, forming a little puddle in front of him. I watched each as it fell, eager to clean it up when the man left. He was handsome; very handsome. His eyes were grayish-blue, his thick cherry lips parted enough to showcase his sparkling white teeth, and his shaved head and face shinned under the lights.
I didn't know what this naked stranger wanted, but I was ready to give it to him.
"Why are you here?" I asked, trying to look the man in his eyes.
"I'm here because you, my dear Dennis, are a true creative man-lover. Your talent for servicing men is legendary on Phallus Mountain, and so, I've come to reward you." he bowed forward, his lips inches away from his own foreskin.
"What sort of reward?"
"You don't belong in this realm, Dennis."
"I don't?" "No. Your name traveled on the wind and whispered through the tress of Mount Phallus last night; it awoke me from my sleep. I've been haunted, all day, with this erection. It reminds me of the men in this realm who don't belong here, like you." "Then where do I belong?" I asked, blushing at the fact his erection was caused by me.
"In a world where you can service men, at your leisure, all the time."
"Ha! That sounds like a fantasy," I moved away from him, turning to finish my chores.
"It's every fantasy you've ever had. A Divine world where you can spend eternity in throws of lust and lust with sexually-worthy men."
"Ok, I've heard enou-"
"Phallus Mountain is real!" he said, appearing an inch away from my face without my noticing him moving.
Our nose-tips were inches away from each other, his raging hard-on pressed against my chest, I looked into his eyes and swallowed my spit. I held my breath, nervous that such a beautiful man was so close to me, touching me with his dick.
"...and I can just go there?"
"You can," his breathe smelled like sperm, I closed my eyes, "...and you can stay."
"...please..." I wanted him to take me, to have me, to press his foot-and-a-half-looking penis into me with the rigor of a stallion.
"Drop to your knees and open your mouth."
I obeyed. Priapus squeezed a drop of pre-ejaculate from his foreskin into my open-mouth. It tasted salty, coated my tongue with a creamy film. My head began to spin, my body began to vibrate, and my penis stiffen. I licked my lips, waiting for another, but another never came. I opened my eyes to see a whole new world; the shop was replaced with a green field, my clothes all vanished, and I was the only person I could see.