Rarely, but sometimes, a fantasy will actually transform itself into reality and walk right into your life. That's what happened to me and to tell the absolute truth when it first started unfolding I wasn't happy in the least. Against my better judgment I agreed to something I didn't want to do and because I did life has become a fantasy come true.
It started with a phone call from my brother, but before I get into the details let me tell you something about myself. I live in Tampa and am a 32-year old social worker who spends 40+ hours a week trying to swim upstream helping dysfunctional families to hold it together. I'm overworked, underpaid and frustrated doing a job in a system that receives the attention of the government and the public only when something goes very wrong, basically because of their lack of real concern. Still I enjoy helping people and while my professional work is maddening, my personal life brings me a good deal of pleasure and enjoyment.
I'm a fairly good-looking, guy-next-door type, 5'10", red hair, tight body, good teeth, great smile, green eyes and a thick 6-1/2" cut cock. I regularly hit the bars on Friday and/or Saturday and it's rare when I don't find a bed partner if I'm looking for one. I've done the lover thing and I'm not interested in doing it again, at least not for now. While I'm not exactly a slut I enjoy sleeping around and rarely enjoy doing the same guy twice; you know the old saying: too many men, too little time; that could be my motto.
There is an exception to that rule. I really get off on doing straight trade and while I don't get to indulge in that particular kink as often as I might like I do have four regulars who will call and show up at my door when their needs arise and time allows. I like the blue-collar, country-boy types and with only one exception all of my guys are married to women who have lost all interest in giving head to husbands who haven't lost interest in receiving it. While some gays profess to look down on such activities I suspect that if you waved a stiff straight dick under their snobby noses their mouths would instinctively open wide. I say fuck the pretense, if it gives you pleasure do it.
So that's about as much or more than you need to know. Like I said it began when my older brother called me. He's 35, a machinist, married with 3 kids. He and his family live in a mobile home on a 5 acre tract outside of Tampa in a place called Thonotosassa.
"Hey Mike! How you doin'?" I knew just from the greeting that he wanted something, probably another loan. Pete had trouble dealing with me being gay, and while we loved each other a great deal, he did his best to avoid me because I refused to go into the closet, even temporarily, just to ease his feelings. So unless it was a family affair, the holidays or that he needed something I didn't often see or hear from him.
"I'm great Pete, couldn't be better, How are you, Joan and the kids?"
"We're doin' OK, same old, same old."
"So why are you calling?"
"Do I have to have a reason to call my kid brother, I could just be calling to see how you are?"
"You could, but I doubt it. I'm still a cock sucker if that's what you want to know."
"Shit Mike, do you always have to shove that in my face?"
"That's what I am Pete and we'll both be happier when you can accept that and live with it. So why are you calling, what do you need?"
"To tell the truth, I need you to do me a favor."
"That's a surprise. I'll do it if I can."
"You remember Jeff, Joan's brother?"
"Vaguely, I met him at the wedding, 12 years ago, he was just a kid. What about him?"
My brother had married Joan while he was still in the Navy. The family had gone up to Virginia for the wedding. Her kid brother was a really cute kid, about 16 or 17 at the time, but that was about all I could recall. He'd never visited them after they'd settled down in Tampa after Pete had been discharged.
"Well his wife left him and he's pretty broken up over it. He called Joan and asked if he could move down here to try and start over."
"So? Happens every day, what's it got to do with me?"
"Well he don't have much money so he needs a place to stay until he gets on his feet. We'd put him up here, but there's barely enough room for us in the trailer and well you have that 3-bedroom house, and we were wondering..."
"Stop a minute. Are you asking me to let him stay with me? Absolutely not! I mean, I love you and I love Joan, but I'm not going to put a crimp on my style by having some straight guy hanging around. I bring guys home to fuck and suck with, have you forgotten that little detail? If you think I'm going to go celibate so that some straight guy can get back on his feet, forget it."
"Hold on a minute. Jeff knows that you're gay. He has an open mind, don't bother him a bit. You don't have to change anything."
"Yeah right. He's sitting in the living room watching television and I waltz in with some trick and we just fuck up a storm while he continues to watch Law and Order. Are you smoking weed or what?"
"Mike, please. This is Joan's brother and she's real worried about him. He very depressed and she's afraid if he doesn't get away from Virginia he'll do something stupid. It will only be for a few weeks. Please Mike, he'll pay you rent."
"Fuck the rent and fuck you and Joan too. You're asking too much this time." I hung up on him.
Of course I started feeling guilty as soon as I did. I really do love my brother and sister-in-law and I guess my social worker's gene started to kick in. I felt like shit, but I still couldn't conceive giving up my freedom, even for a few weeks, that I suspected would more likely turn into a few months. I also knew, human nature being what it is, that it could end up badly with a serious split developing between me and my brother and sister-in-law. It might strain our relationship by saying no now, but I feared that it had the potential to get worse if I said yes. I was really feeling down about the whole thing an hour later when my doorbell rang.
When I opened the door Pete was standing there. I knew, even before I let him in, that I was fighting a loosing battle. I'd always had a hard time refusing my older brother anything and if this was important enough for him to drive in from the boonies I knew he'd wear me down until I said yes. Still I decided that I'd get my pound of flesh.
He went through his whole, well rehearsed plea, and much to my surprise ended by saying something I'd never really expected to hear from him. "If you'll just do this one thing for me I promise that I'll do my level best to come to terms with you being gay. I'll admit that I have trouble thinking about you with another guy, but if you do this for me I'll do whatever it takes to try and understand, including meeting your boyfriends."
This was a mammoth concession. I'd lived with my lover for 2 years and for that whole time Pete refused to ever meet him. He even went so far as to pass up Christmas Eve at my folks' house because he knew I'd be there with Joe. So I understood how much this favor meant to him.
"Ok. Ok. He can stay here. But I'm telling you right now and I want you to promise me that you'll agree to my terms. The first thing I'm going to do is sit him down and tell him the ways of my world. I'm going to let him know that I fuck guys and that I give guys head and that that's not going to change just because he's here. If he can't accept that, or if he freaks out when it happens he's gone. Can you live with that?"
"Yeah. I've already told him that that's pretty much the way things are with you and he doesn't have much trouble. He said one of his best buddies was gay and that him and his boyfriend hung out at his house all the time."
"Well that's a good sign." I said. "Of course hanging around a gay couple isn't exactly the same as living with two guys getting it on together in the next room, but it's a start. So when does he arrive."
"If you agree, he's planning on leaving home early tomorrow morning, so he should get here late tomorrow. If you don't mind we'll give him directions directly here and he can drive out to see me, Joan and the kids the next day."
As the next day was Friday I told him it sounded like a plan and that I'd even drive out with him on Saturday. I then added, "I intend to have my little chat with him just as soon as he arrives, so by Saturday we'll know if it's a go. If not he may be moving in with you, room or no room."
"It's a deal. And he's really a great guy. You're going to like him, you'll see."
"It has nothing to do with if I like him or not, it has everything to do with how I lead my life. It's bad enough I'm giving up my privacy, I'll be fucked if I give up my sex life."
With a shy grin he looked right at me and said, "if you give up your sex life, seems to me you won't be fucked."
We both laughed. I was secretly pleased. It was the first time my brother had ever talked about my sex life in a joking manner. We hugged and he was off to his wife and kids. I was left there to kick myself. At least I wasn't feeling guilty any more.
The next day I told my supervisor what was going down and asked for the afternoon off. I went home and got the guest room ready; I vacuumed the carpeting, dusted the furniture, changed the bed linens, emptied the drawers and closet of the things I'd stored in them, and laid out a set of clean towels for Jeff's use. No sooner had I finished than the phone rang. It was Pete. Jeff had phoned Joan to say that he'd just crossed into Florida. It was 3:00 o'clock, meaning that he'd be arriving at my doorstep somewhere close to 7:00. I told him that that would be fine, that everything was ready.
I then started to make my spaghetti sauce from scratch, figuring he'd be hungry and who doesn't like Italian. I got the sauce on the stove, fix a salad and got a loaf of garlic bread ready to just pop into the oven and placed both in the refrigerator. By that time it was 5:00.
Facing my final two hours of privacy for sometime to come I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. I went into my bedroom and shed every stitch of clothing, grabbed a bottle of lube, a "special" hand towel and my favorite porno DVD and headed back into the living room. God knew when I'd be able to watch some cock sucking action on my big screen TV again, so I was going to enjoy it now.
I kicked back in the leather recliner, hit the remote and as I lubed up my hardening shaft and balls watched a willowy young blond boy kneeling in front of a hunky surfer type, swallowing an impossibly large hard cock. I took it slow and easy, stroking and rubbing, reaching the edge and then backing off. I continued with this routine through several hot loops of hard action until my favorite scene was playing out. I won't go into detail, but it involved a college boy being pulled over by a hulking motorcycle patrolman. The college stud manages to avoid a speeding ticket by sucking off one of the thickest cocks you'd ever seen or even imagined. Don't know how he got his mouth opened that wide, but it had the desired and usual effect on me and grunting out loud I shot several volleys of hot thick sponge straight up in the air. I rubbed the magic elixir into my skin until my chest and stomach were completely coated. Once I came off my orgasmic high, I wiped my hands and dripping cock with the towel, shut off the TV and headed in for a long, hot shower.
By the time I was dressed the clock radio on the night stand said it was 6:30. I went to the kitchen and checked on the sauce. It had been on a low simmer and had thickened up to just right. Then the doorbell rang.
When I opened the door I found Jeff standing there. Though I certainly recognized him, he was no longer the cute, scrawny teenager I'd met 12 years earlier. He'd developed into a real hunk of man, nothing less than my fantasy man.
Let's see if I can find the words to describe him. The face of an angel, just a hair under 6', with shaggy, shoulder-length flaxen blond hair, deep blue eyes, a built body and bulging crotch that were only accentuated by the tight tee-shirt and denim cutoffs that he was wearing. To add to his allure he was wearing flip-flops that revealed large feet with long, boney, sexy toes (did I mention I have a foot fetish?). I took all of this in, in just a matter of seconds and was dangerously close to being speechless. Thankfully he said something.
"Mike? It's me, Jeff." Even his voice was sexy.
I said, "of course. Where's you're things?" That's what I said, what I was thinking was that this was going to be a problem, but not in the way I'd first anticipated. How much trouble could I get into with my brother and sister-in-law for trying to seduce this hunk?
"Out in the car," he said answering my question. "I wanted to be sure I had the right address."
"Well this is the right place. Let me help you in with your things." I couldn't have been more pleasant or welcoming. I think that put him at ease immediately.
We hauled in the two suitcases, three cardboard cartons and three black garbage bags that held the sum total of his possessions. I showed him into the bedroom where we placed everything into one corner and then he followed me into the kitchen.
"Something smell awful good." He said sniffing the aroma of the sauce.
"I figured you'd be hungry, so we're having spaghetti, with my secret sauce. We'll eat a little later."
"Can't wait! Did Joan tell you spaghetti is my favorite?"
"No, but it's mine and I know most men like it. Why don't you have a seat, you must be exhausted from driving. Can I get you a beer?"
"I'd love a beer, but I've been sitting on my ass for hours and I rather stand if that's OK with you."
"Of course."
I opened the frige and took out two bottles of Rolling Rock and we each took a swig of the cold brew.
"I really appreciate you're letting me stay with you. I know you didn't have to do it, I mean we're not kin or anything."
"Glad to do it," I said, and ironically enough I meant it.
"Joan said you were going to lay down a few rules, and I just want to say that whatever you say goes. I certainly don't want to impose any more than I have to. I'm willing to do whatever you want to make it easier on you, just say the word."
Oh God, what an opening. I wanted to drop to my knees and find out just what was behind the fabric mounded at his crotch and I could hardly control my sarcastic impulse to say, OK rule one, your cock is mine whenever I want it. Instead I said, "I think we'll have enough time to lay out some ground rules for both of us after you've showered and we've had dinner."
"A shower sounds might good, just about now." He raised his right arm and sniffed at his pit, "I'm just a little ripe."
Ripe enough to eat, I thought. "Well go in and take a shower. There's towels on your bed and the bathroom's at the end of the hall just down from your room. I'll get dinner together and by the time you're showered and dressed we should be ready to eat."
"Great! Ok if I take the beer with me?"
"Sure, the bathroom counters are Formica."
He headed down toward his room. I realized that in spite of having dumped a big load just a few hours earlier my cock was straining in my shorts having grown to its full hard 6-1/2 inches just thinking about how much I'd enjoy servicing the hunky straight guy who was now my housemate.