Date: Sun, 7 Nov 1999 16:32:10 EST
From: DrThroat@aol.com
Subject: Laundry

The usual disclaimer is that this story contains graphic description of
sex between consenting adult men.  If this material offends you, or you
are under age in your location to view this material, kindly leave now
and go to the Disney site.

 Otherwise, I would like to thank all the fans who have given such
positive feedback on my previous stories.  It is nice to know that your
work is appreciated.

 As always, all comments and inputs are welcome.  Kindly e-mail me at
DrThroat@aol.com.

 Sit back, loosen up your belt (taking out your loverod and working it is
optional), and enjoy!



 Laundry Room

 Hi.  My name is Jeff and at the time of this story I was 24.  I am a
pretty good-looking guy (if I may say so myself) and work out on a
regular basis.  I have been "out" ever since college and am comfortable
with it.  People at work and even at the gym know about me, and it does
not seem to bother anyone.

 So why is it that I am not terribly successful in meeting Mr. Right is
beyond my comprehension.  I go to the bars, some social events, and any
other cultural things that gay people go to.  I have a few gay buddies I
hang with; none of them is "marriage" material.  Usually the people I
meet are either jerks or seem more interested in one-night stands.

 The other problem is that I am attracted to the wholesome guy type.  The
kind who is usually straight -- with a girlfriend or a wife.  Sometimes I
go nuts over a well-proportioned guy in the park walking around with his
baby carriage.

 The second character in out story is Adam.  As you guessed, he is
straight and I am just ga-ga over him.  He lives in the same apartment
complex, just two doors down from me.  He is also 24.  He apparently is a
very successful stockbroker.  He likes hoops, and works out at the same
gym as I do.  I have seen him multiple times come home with some girl or
another, but none for too long at a time.

 My interaction with him has been limited.  Most of our conversations
have been in the hallway or the elevator ride.  Mostly casual.  A couple
of times we had a short chat at the gym, mostly superficial stuff.  He
must know about my sexuality, I figured.  How could he not know!?  Or
else why does he keep a comfortable distance even though we live on the
same floor and go to the same gym.  He never initiated any social
interaction, and neither did I.

 His body, though, was awesome.  Short brown hair on top of an angel
face.  Well-defined chin, strong features (Christopher Reeves
look-alike).  Pecs that definitely show the time investment in them.  And
the honeydews that made up his bubble-butt can give any one a craving.
Needless to say, he had been the subject of many jerk off sessions.  But
I knew my limitations and did not attempt anything with this guy.

 The action in this story took place one Saturday evening late summer.  I
went to a gay bar downtown.  As usual, the weirdoes and misfits, the
jerks, and the sluts were all having a reunion.  Nobody new there, and
nobody worth going home with.  About 2 in the morning I gave up and
finally headed back home.

 As I pulled into the driveway into the garage, I saw Adam's car in
front of me.  He must have also just come back, and the passenger seat
was empty this time.  We both parked our cars and met at the elevator
entrance.  He looked like he had a few drinks, and was a bit tipsy.

 "Hey bud, what's up?"  I said.

 "Not much, just tired."

"I hear you," I replied.  "Empty-handed tonight, huh?"

 "Yeah, no luck tonight.  And it is not for lack of trying either."

 "Me too."  I commented.  I did not know if this was the right time to
discuss anything about my sex life.

 "Too bad."

"Yup."

 "You know, when your luck dries out, you can always rely on Rosie
Palm."  By now the elevator door had opened on our floor, and as he
finished his sentence he went towards his end of the hallway.

 "Good night," he said as he took his keys out and entered his
apartment.

 Oh man, this is all I needed.  I was horny as hell, and the subject of
so many of my fantasies just told me he is going to jerk off.  The idea
of him fisting his cock, as I was alone in my apartment was too much.

 I rushed into my bedroom and took everything off.  I figured, I could
play with myself too.  What better fantasy than to know for sure that
Adam is holding his manhood as I am playing with mine.

 But the thought was too disturbing.  What kind of loser am I?  Lusting
after a straight man will only fuck with my mind further.  I gave it up.
I rolled under the covers and tried to sleep.

 Yeah, like I was going to fall asleep...  Nope, 15 minutes later, and the
images of Adam shooting his juice just a few feet away were too much.
Well, this sleep thing ain't gonna happen, so plan B.

 Plan B no good either, because there was nothing on TV.  Plan C:  do
laundry, so that I might as well get something done.  I got the dirty
laundry bag, detergent, and some quarters, and headed for the door.  Just
as I closed the door behind me, Adam's door opened.

 "Great minds work alike," he said.  He was also heading to the
basement to do his laundry.  He must have not expected to see anyone on
the way or downstairs, because he was wearing a pair of dirty old shorts
and a torn T-shirt, no socks or shoes.

 "I guess you couldn't fall asleep either," he said.

 "Nope."  By now we entered the elevator to head down to the basement.
He was still tipsy, as he stumbled a few times on the way there.

 The laundry room is kinda small. Two washers and two dryers.  We entered
the room.  He took over the first washer and I took over the second one.

 I was dying to find out how did it go with Rosie Palm.  But I did not
dare mention anything.

 "Rosie Palm said she had a headache tonight..." he said and then
started laughing.

 "Huh?"

 "I said, You know what Rosie Palm is, right?"  He asked.

 "Oh sure, I--ah--just was not expecting to hear about that."

 He laughed.  "Yeah, I tried, and nothing happened.  So I figured I'll
do laundry, especially since I am on my last pair of clean underwear."
He continued to load the washer with his stuff.

 "What's keeping you up?"  He asked.

 "The same," I said.

 "Same what?"

 "You know, Rosie Palm did not work for me either."  Was that too much
information at this point?  I was almost done loading my washer.

 "Too bad."

 I finished the load and poured the detergent in.  Quarters in, and the
wash started.

 "FUCK!"  I hear next to me.  Adam, apparently still tipsy, had
stumbled and spilled the liquid detergent over his T-shirt and his
shorts.

 "Shit, now I have this crap all over me.  Fuck!  I am totally
drenched."  With that he took off his T-shirt and tossed it into the
washer before I got a chance to say anything.

 Well, that was a pleasant surprise.  A free view of Adam's torso right
next to me.  Yup, I was right about the way I had always pictured those
pecs of his.  Nicely developed with big, dark, juicy nipples in the
middle of each mound.  Good thing I was not drunk, or those nipples would
be an instant snack for me.

 I couldn't help staring.  He was not looking at me.  He was still
apparently concerned about the spill on his shorts.

 "I hope you won't mind," and the shorts came off in one motion and
ended up in the washer too.  Now he was only in his white boxer briefs.
The kind that has a big gaping hole in the front which gives you a clue
about the goodies inside without showing it all.

 I was dumbfounded.  I was breathless.  A strip show like this is
definitely not what I was expecting as I headed out to do laundry in the
middle of the night.

 "Damn, this shit went all the way through to the boxers."  He put his
thumbs inside his waistband, and took it off and tossed it inside the
machine too...

 I--I--  This was too much.  I must have not taken a breath in for
at least ten minutes at that point.  This was way too much eye candy for
me.  His cock was there for me to gaze at.  He was cut, with low-hanging
balls.  Nicely shaped pubes to top it all.  Not an ounce of fat to be
found anywhere on him.

 He casually closed the washer lid, loaded the quarters and pressed the
start button.  Then he turned around again and faced me.

 "Hope you won't tell the management..." he said.

 I still had not taken in a breath.  He hopped on top of the washer and
sat with his legs spread.   His cock was now getting filled.  In no time,
it was fully erect, and Adam looked at it with admiration.  When the tip
had almost touched his nipples, he looked up at me.  I was still not sure
if the whole thing was a dream or what.

 "Well, what are you waiting for?"  He asked.

 "Ah..."

 "You know what you want big boy, and I want you to have it tonight."

 "But..."

 "Get on the job before I sober up and change my mind."

 I knew this was wrong.  Taking advantage of a drunk man is wrong.  But
the temptation was too much.  Like a magnet I was drawn to his cock.

 I walked slowly towards him.  I was going to just dive into his groin
and take it all in.  But he grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me
towards him.

 "What, no foreplay?  No kissing?"  With that, he planted his lips on
mine.  I opened up and took in tongue and let him explore all the little
spaces of my mouth.

 Now, I was getting drunk.  Not from alcohol, but from the excitement.  I
could feel my knees buckle.  I leaned back to support myself.  He took
advantage of the position and started to kiss my neck.  Then my ears.
Oh, he knew what he was doing with his tongue in my ear.

 I needed to have him.  I leaned forward and took in his left nipple.  It
was just as tasty as I always imagined it to be.  I traced a line down to
his bellybutton, kissing every inch down.  His cock was pointing at me.
I held it, looked up to his face, and with that unspoken approval, I took
it in.

 Ah, it was amazing.  Straight, veiny, and as hard as a rock.  Not too
big to choke on it, but big enough to tickle the back of my throat.  I
took it all in, and his moans confirmed my expertise at giving head.  I
savored the moment, giving the task at hand (and mouth) all the attention
I got.

 He leaned back, with his head touching the wall behind the washer.  He
wet his fingers with his saliva and massaged his nipples as I worked his
cock.  Normally, I give extra anal stimulation to increase the
sensation.  But touching a straight man's chute was too much for me to
try at this point.  I did not want to freak him out.

 Before you knew it, Adam climaxed in my mouth.  I was not going to let
any of that manjuice drip out.  I took an extra long breath and took all
the sperm in.  He moaned so loud that I thought someone might come
running in.

 Shit, I can't believe that the moment is over.  He got his rock off,
tomorrow I'll see him in the hallway and he will act all weird.  He'll
tell me that he was drunk and did not know what he was doing, and that as
far as he was concerned the whole thing never happened.

 "That was the best head, man.  I guess all those rumors about gay men
giving the best head is true," he said.

 "You betchya!"

 I stood up, and took a step back to let him off the washer.

 "Where are you going, loverboy?" he asked.  I froze.  He put his legs
over my shoulder, exposing his magnificent asshole to me.  He reached
down and massaged my crotch through my pants.  "I believe it is your
turn to let out your steam."

 I was puzzled. He picked up on that.

 "Boy, you are slow.  You gotta jump on the opportunities more often.  I
am offering you my ass, so take it.  I always wondered how it might be to
have another man inside of you, the way I am always inside all these
girls.  Tonight is your big night, so go for it."

 Well, that was all the green light I needed.  I dropped my pants and
took out my rod.  I started by fingering the outside of his hole gently.
A virgin ass takes some work before it is ready for a whole man.  I
massaged the sphincter and then slipped one finger in.  He gasped, half
in pleasure, half in pain.  Then came a second finger, and the third
after a few minutes.

 He should be ready now.  Besides, I may cum before I even insert.  I
walked up and touched my tip to his ass.  I looked him in the eyes.  He
nodded, signaling he was ready for me.

 I slowly went in.  First the sphincter, then the chute.  And now I was
in.  I let him get adjusted to the size before I started pumping.  I went
slow at first, and picked up the pace as his ass allowed me.  He was
getting into it.  And I made sure that I encrypt this moment in my
long-term memory, as it may never happen again.

 I was near.  And when he dug his nails in my back, I came.  Loads of hot
cum inside my idol.  I collapsed on top of him, with the washer still
spinning.  As we were both sweating with pleasure, the washer finished
its cycle, and stopped.

 I withdrew my cock and helped him off the washer.  We stood facing each
other, and engaged in a lone tonguing session.  It seemed like it went on
forever.  Finally we broke off.  Maybe he had sobered up.

 After some irrelevant small talk, we loaded up our respective dryers.
He was still naked.  By 5 in the morning, the dryers were done.  He wore
the same pair of shorts he had on when he had come down, and we headed
back up.

 Once we stepped out of the elevator, he said: "Take care," and went
towards his place.  I just looked at him, wondering what is going to be
the nature of our interaction from now on.  He opened the door and went
in.

 I went into my apartment.  Off to bed.  I was exhausted, satisfied, and
worried.  I took advantage of a drunk man...

 Six in the morning, and someone was knocking on the door.  I was
startled.  I opened the door, and it was Adam.

 "I want more," is all he said.  He landed his lips on mine before I
got a chance to answer, pushed us in and closed the door.  He grabbed my
hand and took me to my bed.  He made me show him all kinds of pleasures
known only to gay men, and he was willing to experiment with anything.

 By that afternoon, he was done exploring.  He was satisfied.

 "So is this a revelation for you?" I asked.  "A new beginning?"

"I think I know what you are getting at.  No.  I always knew I was bi.
Just never had the guts to explore it.  Last night I was horny enough and
drunk enough to let go of my inhibitions.  And who better than my
neighbor?"

 We kept on talking for a while.  We became good friends, and occasional
fuck buddies.  We used each other to let out our sexual frustrations when
there was a dry streak, as we looked for romance elsewhere.  Which was a
perfect arrangement for me.  I did not mind him knocking on my door all
possible hours of the day or night and letting me be his Rosie Palm.


 Hope you enjoyed this story too.  As mentioned, comments are welcome at
DrThroat@aol.com

 For a complete list of all my stories go to
http://members.aol.com/DrThroat/nifty.html