Disclaimer: Though based on a true meeting, the story itself is completely fictional. It's about gay sex, so if you're underaged, uncomfortable, and so on, just don't read it. All feeback is welcome!
The Guy at the Convenience Store
I stood there staring at him, unable to speak, barely able to breathe, let alone stand. I could not believe that a man this beautiful could exist. I stared directly at him as he spoke on the convenience store's pay phone, not really paying attention to what was going on around me. It was as if an alternate dimension in which only he and I existed, and where he was completely ignoring me. Suddenly he looked up and directly into my eyes. A blush rose up into my cheeks as I quickly looked away, hoping I hadn't been too obvious. I walked to the back of the store towards the pop fridges and grabbed a 2L bottle of Pepsi. While walking to the cash I couldn't keep my eyes from glancing over at him.
I was staring at him again as I made my way towards the cash, and was paying no attention to where I was going. Big mistake. I swiftly ran into a display of chocolate bars and knocked the entire thing over, falling into the pile of chocolate bars which were now strewn about the floor. I'm sure by now my face could have passed for a tomato, and I couldn't even look at the guy. I was sure he was laughing at me. The cashier was yelling at me as he was ringing entries through, telling me to get that cleaned up because he didn't have the time to deal with stuff like this. I told him I'd get it cleaned up as quickly as I could.
I began cleaning up the strewn about chocolate bars, placing them back into the display I had knocked over. I finally built up the courage to glance at the payphone to see if the hot guy was still there, but, to my dismay, he wasn't. He must have gone off laughing hysterically, I thought to myself. There's no way he didn't see that, and there's no way he didn't find it funny. I was beating myself up inside, because I'd made such an idiot of myself in front of what had to be the hottest guy in the world. I couldn't believe myself, I couldn't believe how much of a freaking idiot I was. I was surprised to see a pair of hands reaching down to help pick up the chocolate bars. I followed the hands up a pair of well defined arms until they disappeared into an olive T-Shirt. The olive T-Shirt fit tightly around a nice, buff but not overly muscular chest. The V-neck style of the shirt allowed me to see more of the tanned chest then I had expected to see, and I followed the edge of the V up to his neck and finally I looked into his face and dropped all the chocolate bars I had collected in my arms. It was him. He grinned and chuckled as I dropped the chocolate bars.
"Having a hard time, there, guy?" he asked.
"Y-yeah," I stammered.
"Lemme give you a hand," dirty thoughts, dirty thoughts, "my name's Clark." He extended his right hand out to shake mine. I threw mine into his hand, almost fainting as I touched his masculine, rugged skin.
"Marc," I managed to say.
"Nice to meet you Marc," he said, smiling. His teeth were perfect, his smile was gorgeous. I had to use all restraint that I had not to jump him right there. I could not believe that I was actually talking to this guy, let alone touching his hand.
His hand? Oh no! I hadn't realized that I was still holding his hand. He was looking at our interlocked hands and sort of smiling from the side of his mouth. I quickly snapped my hand away from his and returned to the task of picking up the chocolate bars. He helped me and we quickly got them all cleaned up and put back into the display. I thanked him profusely, then grabbed the bottle of Pepsi which had gone flying when I tripped and headed to the cash to pay for it.
After having paid, I turned towards the door to see that he was standing there, waiting for me. I walked towards the door, ignoring all instincts to run, ignoring the weakness in my knees, and the uncomfortable bulge in my pants. I smiled at him, and thanked him once again. He said it wasn't a problem, then invited me over to his place for a couple of drinks. Being the university student that I am, I could never say no to a couple of drinks, so I agreed, and followed him to his place. I had managed to settle down a bit by now, and was able to talk to him without sounding completely and totally stupid, and we chatted about the regular stuff on the way to his apartment; school, music, work, and other such things. He never mentioned girls, which was fine with me, though I was a little intrigued, and, to be truthful, somewhat hopeful.
We got to his apartment, a nice little two bedroom place above a laundromat. Convenient, I thought to myself. He asked what I drank, I asked what he had, and he told me he had whiskey, vodka, rhum, gin... He had it all. I said I'd have a rye and Coke. He said sure, then sort of trotted over to his fridge. He looked up and told me that he was all out of Coke. I handed him my bottle of Pepsi and told him to use that instead. He smiled and brought the Pepsi bottle to the counter where he first measured out two shots per glass and then proceeded to open the bottle of Pepsi.
Now, remember that the Pepsi had gone flying and tumbling when I tripped, and imagine what happened next. Yep, it exploded, more or less. He hadn't thought about it, and just opened it like he would any bottle of Pepsi. Big mistake, he soon realized, as the bottle began gushing its dark sticky liquid everywhere in his small kitchen. I was mortified. The bottle of Pepsi which I had passed him just totally destroyed his kitchen and his clothes.
He managed to get the bottle of Pepsi under control and closed by the time I got up and ran to the kitchen. He was laughing hysterically at his spoof. I was apologizing profusely but he couldn't stop laughing. Between bouts of laughter he managed to tell me it was okay, that it was no big deal. He went to the sink, then, and grabbed two wash cloths and threw one at me. We then proceeded to clean up the renegade Pepsi. Once we were done, he opened the bottle of Pepsi once again, now that it had lost its temper, and poured us our drinks.
We returned to the living room and I sat on his futon. He put his drink down on the coffee table then excused himself so he could go change. So I sat there looking at the art on the walls, and it WAS art, and the pictures which were standing in frames on either end table. I smiled at pictures of him and his friends being goofs and making idiots of themselves. I had similar pictures up on my bedroom wall back at my place, I thought to myself. I jumped and let out a little scream as I felt someone sit next to me on the futon. I looked over at a grinning Clark, who had changed into tight fitting shorts and a tight tank top. He grabbed his drink, we clinked the glasses together, and we drank to the messes we'd made today.
I spent the better part of four hours at his place that day, talking about nothing and everything. We listened to Bjork, to Autechre, to Tori Amos, as well as other such bands all afternoon. We talked about our classes, about our professors. We talked about our childhoods, our families, our lives. He didn't seem to ever have had a girlfriend, or he never seemed to talk about it. My glimmer of hope was growing, though I was still guarded, as I still could not believe that such a beautiful man should be accessible to me. Neither of us had drank all that much, so neither of us was particularly drunk, though we were both feeling a bit better about ourselves, and our tongues were a little looser then they had been earlier that night.
"My room mate is out of town for the week. I know we just met today and all, but I hate being alone in my apartment. It's kind of creepy and all, so I was wondering if you'd like to maybe stay here with me for the week," he asked nervously as I was about to get ready to leave.
"Sure," I stammered, probably too quickly.
"Great!" he exclaimed, the grin evident in the deep brown eyes he had hidden behind those glasses that so perfectly fit his face, accentuating his features.
"I'm going to have to run over to my place and pick up a few things though. I don't usually wear the same clothes for more then a day, you know," I explained.
"Sure, why don't you go tomorrow, though? It's getting kinda late and all," he suggested. "You can borrow some of my clothes tomorrow, and boxers or something to sleep in."
"Uhm, I suppose that'd be fine," I said, inwardly excited at the idea of sleeping in this hot young man's boxers.
"Good," he said, heading to the kitchen to make us some more drinks. "We're out of Pepsi, how bout a martini?"
"Sounds good to me," I answered.
He brought me a martini a couple of minutes later, complete with olives. I commented on his meticulous drink making style, and he grinned. He explained that he'd been making drinks for his parents and their friends at dinner parties and whatnot for as long he could remember. Their family had a bit of money, so there was always all kinds of alcohol, and all kinds of drinks to be made for all kinds of people, and so he'd learned early on how to make good drinks. I was, as usual, enthralled as he told his stories. They weren't anything overly interesting now that I look back on it, but they were interesting to me nonetheless.
It was in the wee hours of the morning when he lay back, resting his head on the arm of the futon, and asking if I minded if he rested his feet on my lap. I said sure, and his feet found a comfortable spot in my lap. Unfortunately, it wasn't so comfortable for me, seeing as one of his feet was lain right across my groin. I was quickly becoming hard with his foot there, but he seemed not to notice as we continued to talk. He shifted now and again, and his foot would graze my now hard cock, and I'd always dart my eyes directly at him, but he never seemed to notice, or, at least, didn't mind.
Finally I relaxed and closed my eyes and lay my head back while listening to him talk some more. I was entranced by the sound of his voice, the beauty of it, the sweet baritone as it rose and fell in excitement. I concentrated on every syllable, savouring the beauty of the words escaping the beautiful mouth. I soon dozed off and began dreaming weird dreams.
I awoke soon after, but something was different. He was no longer talking, I noticed, but that was not what was different. Realizing what was happening I shot my eyes open and looked down into my lap to see that while I had fallen asleep he had gotten enough courage to open my pants and begin playing with my still hard cock. He must have noticed then, I thought to myself. I looked at his face then, and his eyes were staring directly into mine. His hand had frozen, his entire body had frozen. He was afraid of how I would react, and the fear was palpable. His eyes looked into mine, begging for forgiveness. I leaned into him and pushed my lips onto his.
His eyes widened and then shut as he savoured the kiss. I closed mine soon after and brought my hand up behind his neck, running my fingers through the hair there. The hand he had on my cock resumed its slow stroking motions as his other hand went around my waist and pulled me towards him. He let go of my cock then, and pulled me directly into him. He began grinding his still hidden cock into me, and I followed suit, grinding mine into him. We continued to kiss, our tongues having found themselves moments earlier, and now were in an eternal struggle to get deeper into each others' mouths. Moans escaped both of our throats as the sheer passion of the moment registered in our thoughts. My hands were exploring his smooth back, running along his spine, savouring the muscle that was hidden under the perfectly tanned skin. I found his shorts and quickly pulled them down off his ass. His boxers followed suit, and he was now laying on me, his bottom half completely naked, mine mostly so.
He sat up and straddle my lap and I stared at what I believe to be the absolute most gorgeous cock I have ever seen. I gasped, then moaned as his hand took hold of my cock again. I quickly grabbed his cock with my hand and began to stroke it in pace with his stroking of my own cock. We were both groaning ecstatically at this point. He leaned down and began kissing me again. He then moved down to my left nipple, taking it into his mouth. He had moved down to do so, and his cock reluctantly left my grip. I moved my hand back up to his back which I continued to explore hungrily. He devoured my left nipple, sucking on it hard, biting down on it lightly, then a little harder. I couldn't help but groan, moan, and sometimes even shudder under the ministrations of his tongue. He moved over to my right nipple after that and performed the same oral ministrations for it. In my mind I could no longer think lucidly. Everything seemed to be hidden by a haze of sexual hunger and passion. I was in ecstacy, and I'm pretty sure this is what nirvana would be like.
I thought then that nothing could feel so good. I found out how wrong I was when he dived onto my cock. If he knew what was to be done with nipples, he knew even more of what to do to a cock. I couldn't help but thrust up into his mouth as he took my cock in and out of his mouth. I was moaning loudly and had lost control of my body by now, and I couldn't believe that it was legal or possible for a man to feel as fantastic as I did at that point. He ran his tongue along the base of my cock, tickled around the head of it, moved along the entire length of it, taking it all in his mouth, then repeating the actions. His tongue was like a pro, and, if there were such thing as head giving competitions, I'm sure it would be well decorated. I couldn't believe the feelings I was experiencing. My hands had found the back of his head somehow, and were pushing his head down onto my cock, as if he might need the extra help. I pulled him off my cock then, and told him to turn about. He did as I said, and was soon laying on top of me, his cock pointed directly at my hungrily awaiting mouth, his own mouth already devouring my cock yet again.
My hands found his ass cheeks and pulled his cock down into my awaiting mouth. I pulled him into me, and he pulled himself away from me, all while continuing to suck my cock like a god. I ran my fingers along the crack of his ass, tickling his small puckered hole, warranting more intense moans from his throat. My cock was beginning to tingle, that beautiful sensation that means I'm about to blow. I moaned louder, more intensely around his cock, and I'm sure he could tell what was coming. He sucked down harder as my cock began to spew its juices into his awaiting mouth. He swallowed most of my cum, and what didn't go down his throat ended up on the sides of his lips. As I came into his mouth, his cock became even harder, and just as I was receding in my shots of cum, I rammed my index finger into his asshole, and began to stroke his prostate. He moaned loudly and shot load after violent load into my mouth. I swallowed all of it, leaving only a little in my mouth.
We sat up, and he bent in to kiss me. His and my tongue wrestled, the taste of each others' come in our respective mouths. The thought and taste of our intermingled semen was too much for me, and I took him into my arms and began to kiss him almost violently. He moaned at my not so gentle treatment and allowed me to savagely kiss him, running my fingers along his back, grasping violently at his muscles.
My body gave up then, and I just sort of slumped. I had no idea what had just come over me. I had lost all conscious thought, all conscious action as he was taking me in his mouth. I was amazed at what had just happened, and I stared into his eyes with awe on my face.
Needless to say, I spent the next week sleeping at his place. I never DID go back to my place for clothes. We just walked around naked for the whole week, and I would borrow his clothes if we had to run out to the store. The cashier at the convenience store grinned everytime we walked in together, remembering me from the accident, and probably guessing what it meant that Clark and I came in together all the time. I didn't mind, though, I enjoyed the whole week, and was sad when the day where his room mate was to return came along.
We made love that morning, and it was better then all the sex we'd had that previous week put together. My mind didn't function properly for a few days after that morning. It seemed that the only thing in my head was that morning, the absolute mind-numbing experience, his absolutely gorgeous body, his enthusiastic grin. I found myself wishing I could spend the rest of my life in his arms, and, though I knew it wasn't over, that we'd still see each other, I had tears running down my face as I walked back home the day he room mate was to come home.
As I said, all feedback is welcome. Please send to marcsavoie@rogers.com . Thank you!