Disclaimer: This story contains adult homosexual consensual sex. Do not read it if it you're a minor, it offends you or violates any laws.
The following story is true.
The summer after my high school graduation had ended and my best buddy and I had moved into the apartment our folks rented for us in the big city. We'd gone to schools at 3 different rural towns but now we were off to college. I wasn't sure what I wanted to study but whatever it was, it would have to be something that would keep me from having to live in a rural town. You see, through my teenaged years, I'd dated a couple girls and made love with them quickly but passionately several times. But deep inside I knew I was really gay. While I could admit it to myself, I couldn't admit it to anyone but my best friend Jimmy. We messed around together as pre-teen boys but it went beyond the normal experimentation. We both knew we enjoyed what we did and relied on each other to provide the sex we wanted. And while we were best friends, we weren't in love with each other. We knew we wanted to go to a big city and feel free to be ourselves at long last. Hiding our sexuality, feeling ashamed of it, feeling we didn't belong, knowing we'd be hated--it had grown tiresome and it was no way to live. To hell with small minds!
We had been going to school and living in our apartment for about 2 months. Life as we'd known it had changed for the better. We couldn't get into bars or clubs, but we'd managed to meet other guys like us, finally able to experience their true sexuality without too much harsh judgment. There were many parties to go to and Jimmy had taken to that life straight away. He loved being out and about and he loved bedding down any cute guy he could. Me? Sure, I'd had some fun. But I soon realized what I really wanted--a real man! An older man, masculine, confident and who at least looked straight. I didn't want boys. And I didn't want old queens either. So I allowed myself some fun so I hit some parties on a Friday night and went home alone. Jimmy, on the other hand, he was a hottie and never short of a warm bed with a willing ass beside him. His weekends were wild and I saw him little. And while he was out again on Saturdays, I was home alone cleaning, shopping, napping and staying up to watch SNL.
Waking at 4am was my custom. Life on a ranch demands it. Working out a routine to get chores done was a way of life for me. I had to do my own laundry and I'd settled on doing it between 4 and 6am on Sunday mornings. It's not that I wanted to be ready for church. I didn't attend church anymore. I just hated doing laundry when everybody else was doing laundry and wasting time constantly checking availability on machines. But crack-of-dawn Sundays? I had the whole laundry room and all the machines to myself! Usually, because I'd had to haul several loads on several trips from my apartment to the laundry room, once everything was in a washer I'd sit in the little courtyard fronting the laundry room enjoying the cool air waiting for the washing machines to buzz.
This morning, as I sat in the dark, I could hear footsteps somewhere behind the laundry room (I should explain the layout: The apartment complex was long and narrow. Apartments on two levels faced each other. All amenities and facilities were located in the courtyards between the apartment buildings, including the laundry rooms. Second floor apartments were accessible from communal stairs and arranged along a shared deck running the length of the buildings. Every apartment door came off that deck). I then heard a series of "thuds" as someone, obviously a man, made his way up the stairs and down the deck. I couldn't see clearly but I heard keys rattle and slip into a dead bolt lock. I could just make out what looked like a figure in black pants and white shirt with what I think were patches. I heard the door open and close a couple seconds after the figure stepped through it. I figured it was a rent-a-cop just getting home from his graveyard shift. I continued sitting out waiting for dawn to break when I caught sight of a tiny orange glow at an angle to me. I turned towards it and could make out the figure of a man leaning on the railing of the second floor deck, smoking a cigarette and wearing nothing but a loose pair of shorts. I was sure it was the same guy that had just gotten home but I hadn't heard him exiting his apartment. I looked away, closing my eyes but I heard him snort and looked his way again. He was looking at me and turned away. I didn't think much of this whole scene and proceeded to stretch while sitting. I thought about him and snuck glances. He appeared about middle aged, seemed to have a hairy chest and stomach, a little middle aged girth, mustache. That was all I could make of him. I imagined what his life was like. Probably divorced, working a thankless job, struggling to make ends meet, little joy in his life, looking forward to kicking back with beer and cigarettes watching football, etc. But my mind began racing thinking about what he does for sex. It's weird to think of middle aged men jacking off but I imagined that's what he did. If he was a security guard, he probably couldn't afford to date often. And as I thought about it, I started feeling a little horny.
He was still out there. His cigarette was out but he was still out there. Something came over me and I wanted him to know I was gay. I crossed my legs and crossed my arms and cocked my head to one side as I swung my dangling leg. I reached up to run my hand through my hair looking in his direction. I could make out that he was watching me. I reached to the bottom of my tee shirt, lifted it up and lightly scratched my belly hoping to expose myself to him. The more I thought of it, the more I wanted this man to want me. I raised the hem of my shorts up a little on my thigh to scratch lightly and rested my hand on my crotch. I was beginning to swell and made an obvious squeeze on my cock. He kept watching but didn't react. I didn't know what to do. I was desperate. I was also being foolish. I reached up and dragged my hand slowly across my nipples as I stretched and caressed my face. I licked my lips still looking at him, fidgeted in my seat and spread my legs open and shut a series of times. Just then I saw him move. He reached down to his crotch as if to scratch himself. I gave a short swing of my head and kept looking directly at him. He reached down to his crotch again, this time making it obvious he had his cock in hand and stepped away from the railing slowly turning back to walk into his apartment. OH MY GOD!!! I instantly felt hot and excited wondering if we'd made a connection. My heart thumped and I sat frozen thinking about what was going on. A little voice in my mind kept screaming "Damn you fool! Get up! You're taking to long to make your move! Get up!"
I was nervous and excited and just then I was scared shitless when I heard a buzzer in the laundry room go off. DAMN IT!! I got up to unload a washer into a dryer and waited inside knowing the other washers would go off too. After all my laundry had been put into dryers I went back to my patio chair feeling the whole thing had been blown and to my surprise, there he was on the railing again. Instantly I felt excited and warm all over. I looked directly at him and smiled. His hand moved down to his crotch and gave an obvious squeeze. In the growing light of day I could almost make out the knob of his cockhead formed on the cloth of his shorts as he squeezed his cock. He turned and walked back into this apartment. It seemed his door was still opened part way from where I could see. My god. He wants me to go up there. I hesitated but that angry little voice piped up again and I got up quietly walking toward the stairs. I was nervous and scared and stepped on each tread gingerly. When I got to the deck I turned toward his apartment and could see his door was ajar. A faint glow emanated from the interior. I crept slowly against the apartment wall, hesitated by the door and mustered the courage to peer into his open door. When I did, he was slupmed on a couch bathed in a TV glow; his legs spread wide enhancing the obvious tent in his shorts. He was looking directly at me as I looked through his door and he wrapped his hand around his engorged cock through his shorts and nodded slowly. My god, this was going to happen. I took a deep breath, opened the door wider and slowly stepped in. He didn't move. He just stared at me and held his hard on in his hand. I closed the door quietly and stood there looking at him. He gave his cock a few slow strokes through his shorts and nodded at me again. I stepped toward him knowing now he wanted me to enjoy his cock. I stepped between his open legs and knelt before him. He released his cock and my hand took hold of it. God it was hot and hard! I reached for the elastic, he lifted himself and I slipped his shorts down to his ankles. His cock was magnificent. Hard and veiny with a tight bulbous head! At its base was a tangled mass of pubes connecting seamlessly up to his belly hair. My mouth was dry with anticipation. I called forth a wad of saliva from my glands, leaned in and took his cock as deep as I could into my mouth, wrapped my lips tightly around it's base, let all my saliva drain on his shaft and slowly lid my sealed lips up his cock. A guttural moan escaped from his throat. I licked his cock head and, taking a deep breath, plunged it into the depths my mouth again. He let out a deep sigh and I started reveling in the hard heat of his shaft. I bobbed my head on his cock, licking around the base, down to his balls, getting them soaked in my spit, gripping the long hairs in my teeth and he spread open further. God I loved what I was doing. I took his meat back in his mouth and sucked for all I was worth. He put a hand at my neck and drew me in deeper as he bucked his hip up to my mouth. His cock went deeper and I moaned around it. He put both hands on me, one at either side of my head, forced me to fuck into him as he bucked his hips repeatedly fucking into me. His cockhead pounded on my throat and I gagged horribly. He released me and my head rose up gasping for air. Tears filled my eyes from the desperate gagging and I shook it off. I sucked in some air and went back to town on his cock. He guided my head slowly down his shaft till he could feel my throat. I worked hard to keep from gagging as I felt his knob trying to insert into my throat. I'd never gone this far but knew I wanted it. I felt air trapped in my throat and felt like I was being choked till I remembered to breathe through my nose. There was a little mucous but it was manageable. His cock was in my throat and he began to fuck into me slowly. God, my cock was raging hard and I loved being a cock sucking faggot for him. As he realized I was managing his cock well, he began to buck up into me again. I fought gagging again and let him fuck my throat. His pelvic bone slammed into my nose repeatedly causing a little pain but a dick fag like me deserves it. He gripped my head tightly holding my face down on his pubes and I felt his cock go deeper and swell on the walls of my throat. His cock blasted his hot cum and I could feel the heat of it on the walls of my throat. My eyes teared and my nose felt like draining as he pumped his cock head a few more times, grunting with every shot, squeezing my head harder. His hips dropped and he released me as his cock slipped out my throat. It was still in my mouth and I worked to suck whatever else was left. His sensitivity was apparently great for he writhed and moaned and pushed me off his cock. I sat on my haunches before him gulping. There was nothing there to swallow but the raw pain I felt in my throat with every gulp was a sweet reminder of what a wanton cock slut I had just been. He rolled his head back, drained of all cum and energy and I reached up to cop a feel of his hairy chest. Instantly his hand grabbed mine and took it off. He rolled his head forward and simply said 'get out'. I froze stunned as he stared coldly at me. I slowly arose, turned and silently walked out the door. I had been used and discarded.
It took a couple hours for the guilt, the shock and the feeling of abuse to wane and the ecstasy of having serviced a man to take over. Over the next few days I battled the guilt of reliving the scene every time I jacked off. Because of it I vowed never to let a man do me that way again. But next Sunday, he came home and came out to the deck wearing nothing but shorts smoking a cigarette looking over at me. What would I do then?