JOHNNY'S STORY
I appreciate everything Tommy has done for me, I really do. I will always remember him fondly as my first true relationship, my first real boyfriend. He has taught me so much about gay life and how to act like a proper 'bottom' that I will forever be in his debt.
I'm not in love with him, but that isn't his fault. I've never loved anyone-I'm not capable of that emotion. I grew up in a loveless household; the only thing that mattered was hard work, and perseverance.
You do your best in school... get a good job... find a woman... have kids... and raise them the same way you were raised... perpetuation of the species-that is what life is all about!
He is kind and a perfect gentleman, and most importantly, a skilled lover. He does all the cooking; I do all the cleaning and laundry. We rarely leave the complex. Some nights I beg him to take me to 'Rods' to shoot pool, but that doesn't happen too often.
He does almost all his business online. He's on the computer at least 7-8 hours-a-day, leaving me alone with too much time on my hands. I get easily restless and bored.
Our sex life is still good. When he fucks me with his long, thin cock, my orgasms are so powerful I'm reduced to a shaking and quivering, mass of flesh. I adore Tommy's cock whether I'm sucking it, or bending over for him.
The rest of our life though is rather routine; mundane.
However, to be honest about it, lately, when I'm kneeling between Tommy's legs I fantasize about my best friend, Mike. I'm not sure why, I should be furious the way he treated me that last few weeks we were together, but I can't help myself.
I fantasize Mike is forcing me to use my hands, lips and tongue on his cock and balls and asshole. All-the-while he's cursing at me for being gay.
"Suck my cock, you faggot whore" or 'Swallow it all, you faggot cum-slut" or "That's it fagboy-tongue-fuck my asshole like the simpering homo you are."
I really don't know why I get so excited every time I dream of Mike's voice saying these things to me.
Truth-be-told, I can picture every inch of Mike's beautiful cock; every ridge, bump and nuance. I clearly remember how much he loved it when I ran my tongue up-and-down the purple vein on the underside of his erection; how violently his hips and pelvis shook when he exploded in my mouth.
But that was long ago, I will never see Mike again; it is time to move on.
Thank God I met Percy; he's Ernie's boy. He's my age and we hang-out together by the swimming pool or play games in the rec room.
When I met him, he kind of repulsed me. I mean, I could tell was a nice guy, but he acted awfully faggoty even when Ernie wasn't around. Swishy, twink-types have always bothered me.
Since then, I've come to understand the kind of relationship he and Ernie have, and it's much more different and complicated than mine and Tommy's.
Whereas Tommy allows me a certain amount of freedom, Percy is completely under Ernie's thumb. While Tommy engages me in conversation, sometimes even seeking my opinion on matters of importance, Ernie rules Percy with an iron fist. And I think Ernie is something of a sadist, as well.
The image of the very first time I saw Percy and Ernie is stamped in my brain: it was a warm Saturday afternoon, and Tommy and I were relaxing in chaise lounges poolside. I heard the rusty gate open, and looked over and saw a man about Tommy's age walking ahead of good-looking blonde boy.
The man had a swarthy complexion, and even though he was in his fifties, he still had a complete head of black, curly hair, and he was in excellent shape; he obviously took his body very seriously. There was an air of danger about him.
When I looked closer at the boy; I almost broke out laughing. He walked three-feet behind the man; his eyes appeared to be fixed on the man's ass as they walked. I first saw the dog collar around his neck then his apparel. The man was wearing a tee shirt and sweat pants, but the boy was dressed only in what I recognized from my high school gym class days as a fresh, white jock strap.
When they walked by us, the boys buttocks were totally exposed, showing-off to everyone large and angry red welts. It was painfully clear to me the boy had just been spanked by the man. I had never been so embarrassed for someone else in my entire life.
The man had acknowledged Tommy with a nod of his head; he ignored me. Then he said to the boy "Sit there!" He pointed at the chair next to mine.
"Yes, Sir!" the boy promptly answered.
I cringed when the boy made a face as the fabric of the chair made contact with his bruised buttocks, but he didn't say a word.
The handsome man continued on his way to the 'weight room' adjacent to the pool. The room was close to the pool and everyone inside were clearly visible thru a big window.
Tommy sat-up, looked at the boy and said, "Percy, this is Johnny."
I turned and the boy offered to shake my hand. His grip was as soft and limp as a dead fish.
"Nice to meet you," he said with a smile and slight lisp.
Good God, I thought. This boy's a total fairy! He was, in my mind, the stereotypical swishy-faggot. I felt an immediate dislike of him.
The three of us sat in silence watching as more and more residents filled the pool area. It was quite a sight to see so many older men with boys around my age. They all came to Tommy and he introduced me to the men, and then would say, "... and this is his 'boy'... " never once mentioning the boy's name.
At one point, I heard Percy yawn and looked at him as he raised his hands above his head.
He had no underarm hair-not even stubble! I lowered my eyes and saw no chest hairs either, and noticed his legs were smooth and hairless as well. I found my eyes darting back to his chest.
Good God, the boy has breasts! I thought to myself. And look at the size of his nipples!
He had a very well-defined, almost sculpted chest. He didn't really have breasts, at least not in a woman's way, but they were definitely rounded and shapely.
Tommy excused himself saying he had computer-work to do. As soon as he was gone Percy turned to me and asked, "I saw you staring at me-do you like what you see?"
I blushed a deep red. He laughed and said, "It's okay... I've worked hard to look like this!"
He began talking, and I volunteered answers to his questions. Amazingly, his lisp and faggoty voice were replaced with a pleasant sounding baritone. He used his wrists and hands when he spoke, and there were no traces of the swishy movements he'd displayed when we first met. I guessed it was all an act for the benefit of his man.
"You're very lucky," he said to me. "Tommy is a wonderful man... he's kind and gentle... he treats his boys with respect!"
We talked some more and then I asked him how long he'd been with Ernie.
"I've been with 'Sir' a few months-I'm not sure... the boys here tend to lose track of time," he answered.
