Three-hundred dollars? How can I possibly afford three-hundred dollars for new tires? I'd have to stay home for a month eating ramen noodles and drink nothing but water just to pay for new tires.
I should have stayed in school, I said to myself. I would have had my degree by now, but no, I needed my independence—I had to move out of my parents' house and into my own apartment to satisfy my compulsion for immediate self-gratification.
Instead, I waited tables in a third-rate café, and lived paycheck-to-paycheck in a crummy little one-bedroom apartment with furniture that was older than me.
I'm going to make some changes, I told myself. I'm going to exercise some self-control and make some improvements in my life.
I heard Mister Z groan above me—that was the only way I could ever tell he was close to cumming. My fingers stroked his shaft faster as I furiously sucked his fat cockhead.
I'll put away half of my next four paychecks then in a month or so I can buy the new tires, I decided. I'll drive fewer miles than normal, and get rides from Tommy. The tires I have should last another month.
His balls contracted in my hand so I flattened my tongue over his cock-slit and lapped up and swallowed his cum as he shot his load into my mouth. His semen didn't taste half-bad this time—'The Witch', as he called his wife, must have him on a better diet.
I remained naked on my knees as he pulled up his shorts and slacks. He patted me on the head.
"That was one of your better blow-jobs, boy," he said, "...see what you can do when you concentrate?"
I smiled and waited to hear the front door close.
"See you Friday," he said before he shut the door behind him.
I went to the kitchen table and sat down before my laptop. It was open to my 'special file'. I stared at the photos while I caressed my semi-erect penis. I loved gazing at hard cocks being serviced by pretty boys.
When I was fully erect my hand moved faster. I needed to make this one quick—I had to shower and get ready for work. I slowly scrolled through the photos as my left-hand became a blur on my cock. When I got to the picture of the boy on his knees with a long, slender penis in his mouth I sat back and stared at the photo. I felt the familiar rumblings begin deep in my balls. I squeezed and stroked my cock harder and faster then closed my eyes as the cum suddenly shot out of my cock into the air. My hand and thighs were covered with my jism. When I regained my composure I took a shower.
I was dressed and in the bathroom combing my hair when I heard two sharp knocks on my front door then the door opened. I knew it was Tommy, my neighbor and best friend; we worked together at the café. He was on the couch when I went into the living room.
"I ran into Mister Z when he left your apartment," Tommy said, "...the old lecher actually squeezed my butt when I walked by...how can you keep doing that ugly, fat old man—he's disgusting."
"Yeah," I said, "but he's got such a warm and fuzzy personality..."
"He's got the personality of a doorknob..."
"It's easy if you imagine he's Johnny Depp," I said. "I fantasize he's Captain Jack Sparrow, and I'm his prisoner and he's ravishing me."
Tommy wasn't amused; he shook his head sadly.
"Look..." he said, "I know he gives you a big discount on your rent for your, ah—'company', but if you move in with me you'd pay even less and you wouldn't have to deal with his fat little greasy prick—all I'm saying is think about it."
We have the same discussion every week. Tommy is one of my oldest friends and has always looked out for me. He was there for me when I told my family and friends I was gay; he introduced me to his friends and helped ease me into my new life.
He's given me solid advice and a shoulder to cry on when things haven't turned out the way I'd hoped or expected. He even introduced me to Patrick, my first boyfriend, and was there for me when Patrick and I broke up.
Lately, he's seen me through a series of mini-crises, and it seems like there's been one crisis after another. Like I said, he's always there for me, and I have a special fondness for him--but I'm not in love with him.
The café was busy—it usually was, and I was happy. The night flew-by, and I made good tips. Tommy was the best server there and I tried to pattern myself after him. I didn't like the job at first when Tommy got me in there, but I watched closely how he went about the work, and I listened to him.
"You have a choice here," he once told me. "You can hate the job—be miserable all night—like some of the guys here—give lackluster service to the customers and make mediocre tips and then bitch about it, or you can be a professional. For the few hours you're here, you can be attentive, courteous, smile and have fun with the customers...believe me, the time goes faster and you earn more money when you're having fun. Look around—the bad waiters use more energy at avoiding work than the good waiters who simply do their jobs."
He was right, of course, and he could have added they were unpleasant to work with, too.
On the way home I asked Tommy if he wanted to stop at the club for a drink.
"I've got an early class..." he said. Along with his job, Tommy was working towards a degree in Computer Science.
"Well, we'll just have one, I promise...never know, Richie might be there." I said. He had the hots for Richie.
He smiled. "I don't know why I always cave-in to you..."
When we pulled into the parking lot of 'The Back Door Bar & Grill' we saw Patrick leaving with a little flamer I wasn't fond of.
"Didn't know he liked that type," I commented. Tommy didn't say a word.
The place was crowded but we found two stools at the bar. We got our drinks and started talking politics. We knew what was wrong with the world, but our opinions differed on how to fix it. It was always fun debating with Tommy.
In the back-bar mirror I saw 'Bigfoot' coming up behind us. My heart skipped a beat. His real name was Fred, but he was a huge man so someone gave him that nickname. He was rumored to have an enormous cock. He had a dark and swarthy complexion, and was ruggedly handsome. He made me nervous, but I was curious to see if the rumor was true.
Fred put his hand on my back and gave my neck a squeeze—it gave me goose-pimples. I swung around and smiled at him.
"You're looking real sexy tonight, Johnny," he said.
"Just tonight?" I smiled.
I flirted with him. We never talked about anything serious which was fine with me. He wasn't very interesting and he was kind of dumb but I liked the attention from a hunk like him and the size of his cock was always on my mind.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.
I looked at Tommy. "I need to get going," he said.
"Sorry, Fred—Tommy drove me here."
"I'll give you a ride home," he said.
I saw a look of disapproval in Tommy's eyes but it quickly went away.
"Have fun," said Tommy as he got off the stool and left me with Fred.
Fred sat down and we talked. He bought me four drinks and I lost track of time. When the bartender yelled- out "Last call", Fred bought a pint of whiskey. We finished the drinks in front of us then headed to his car.
I was sitting next to the passenger door and he patted the seat beside him.
"Why don't you sit next to me—I won't bite—unless you want me to..."
I moved next to him and immediately felt very small. He put his arm around me.
"I've always liked you, Johnny—I've always wanted to get to know you better."
