Date: Thu, 22 May 2003 23:30:51 -0700
From: Ryan Daly <rydaly@hotmail.com>
Subject: Brad's Apartment (Revised)

The following is a story from my youth.  I've changed the names and some
details.  Standard disclaimers apply.  Please do not read this if you are
under 18 years of age.

At the age of 15, I got to know the first self-professed gay person I'd ever
met.   I'd fooled around with friends from school, but there was always an
unspoken set of regulations -- one never talked about love, one never
kissed, one never professed that one was hot for another of the same sex.

One summer day I and my friend Sean, also 15, went to our local pool.  Sean
wasn't someone I hung out with regularly, and never at school.  He was seen
as a bit "cooler" than me.  We lived in a planned community of houses,
condos, and apartments, and scattered around the community were ample parks,
tennis courts and swimming pools.  I seldom used the pool half a block from
my house since kids under 18 had to be accompanied by an adult.  Instead, my
friends and I would usually go to a pool with a lifeguard which allowed
underage kids to swim unaccompanied.

But this summer day, Sean suggested we just go the the closest pool. Our
community was strictly policed by a full-time staff of security guards, and
they often made spot checks to insure that all the rules were being
followed.  I was a little worried about being caught, but Sean was a bit of
a "wild" kid, and was fond of breaking rules.

"If the security guards check, we'll say we're 18 and didn't bring our ID
because our swimsuits don't have pockets."  Sean said, determinedly. I was a
bit wary of the plan; even though I was 15 and a half, most people mistook
me for 14 or even sometimes 13.  I was thin and fairly tall (5'9") but only
weighed 115 lbs, and my baby smooth face had hardly changed since I was 11.
Sean wasn't much more convincing -- although his voice was deeper and he had
a light dusting of hair on his upper lip, he was only about 5'2" and would
hardly be mistaken for an 18 year old.  Nevertheless, we took my mom's
passkey  -- you needed a key to get into most recreational facilities, and
they weren't issued to kids.   We went to the pool, which had a few adults
lying in the sun, and a couple mothers and young kids, but no other teens.

Sean and I had an inflatable beach ball with us, and we played a noisy game
where we threw the ball at each other as hard as we could, diving or jumping
into the pool to avoid being hit.  I'm sure we were annoying some of the
adults who were sunning on loungers, but at 15, that didn't concern us.
Occasionally the ball would go astray and nearly hit someone we didn't know;
we'd issue a cursory "sorry," and return to our game.

One of my throws missed Sean and hit a guy on a lounger who I'd seen around
the neighborhood before.  He looked like he was 25 or 30.  I'd noticed him
watching our game, but this hit took him by surprise.  He picked up the
beach ball and started chasing me around the pool deck with it, a sort of
wicked grin on his face.  I jumped in the pool to avoid it, but the ball hit
me square in the back.  It was easily the hardest hit of the day, and my
back stung a bit from the blow.  Then the guy retreated, as if he expected
me to return the throw.  I was a little mad, so I got out of the pool and
returned chase.  I hurled the ball as hard as I could in his direction but
missed him by a few feet.  He grabbed the ball and started to chase Sean
with it. Sean dove in the pool, and when he surfaced, he was whacked in the
head by our new playing partner.  This guy, with his larger size and more
powerful throwing arm, had kicked up our game a notch.

After about ten minutes of playing, Sean motioned to me to look at the pool
gate.  A uniformed security guard (if you call shorts, a polo shirt, and a
badge a uniform) was speaking to a woman who gestured in our direction.  The
guard walked over to me and asked to see my ID.  I was a bit flustered and
had started to concoct my excuse when the older guy who had been playing
with us said "It's O.K., they're with me.  He pulled out his community ID
card and pool key and presented them to the guard.

"Well, Mr. Bennet, please keep the boys from being so wild," said the
security guard, who then walked away.

"Mr. Bennet..." the older guy snickered, as if he though it funny to be
called "Mr."   "We better calm it down a bit."

Sean suggested we go take a soak in the accompanying Jacuzzi. All three of
us headed to the low fenced area that held the Jacuzzi.  A really old guy
over 40 was in it, but he left after a couple minutes, and it was just us
three.

"I wonder how many people have had sex in this Jacuzzi?" the guy we only
knew as "Mr. Bennet" said.

"No way!" said Sean. "How could anyone have sex in this Jacuzzi?"

"I've seen some people getting pretty hot and heavy in it late at night.  It
doesn't take much imagination to think that they let it all hang out and go
all the way if no one's around," our older companion explained.

This talk was making me a little bit horny.  I imagined a guy and girl naked
in the water.  Mostly my mind imagined the guy, his erect cock spurting
underwater, mixing his come with the bubbles.

Mr. Bennet continued, "I'd have sex in a Jacuzzi if I could; it would be
awesome."

I looked at the guy and tried to imagine him naked and coming in the
Jacuzzi.  He was about 6' tall and he had a nice even tan and sun bleached
blond hair.  He was pretty good looking -- not model looks, but above
average.  His had a little extra fat around his middle, but still seemed
like he was strong and not flabby.  I wondered what his cock looked like
beneath the long beach trunks he wore.

I'd had hopes of maybe getting Sean into a little sex play after we'd gone
swimming, but now I wondered if I could somehow get this guy in on it.  Try
as I might, I couldn't imagine a situation that would accomplish that.

As we sat in the Jacuzzi and talked, I learned that "Mr. Bennet" was
actually named Brad, and he was 32.  He'd recently moved out of his mom's
house and got a small studio apartment of his own.  His mom only lived half
a block away from him, so he wasn't really on his own, but I thought it was
terribly grown up and cool to have your own apartment.  Brad worked as a
night cashier at a grocery store.

"You guys want to come over to my place and see it?" Brad asked.  Sean
begged off, explaining that he had to help his dad with something, but I
accepted, eager to see this cool guy's bachelor pad.  We wrapped our towels
around our neck and walked to his place, which was about 100 yards from the
pool.  Brad went to use the bathroom and I looked around.  It was your
typical rental apartment in that neighborhood -- beige carpet, off-white
drapes, a generic couch and a couple chairs.   He did have a big stereo and
TV system, which I thought was pretty cool.  All this in one large room with
a closet sized kitchen and bathroom to one side.

"You want something to drink?" Brad asked upon his return. "Coke, Water...
Beer?"  I hadn't really drunk beer before, even though I always acted like I
had when I was around friends.  I thought this might be the perfect
opportunity to try it.

"I'll have a beer," I said.  Brad tossed me a can of Miller Genuine Draft.
I tried to act like it was second nature for me to open and sip it, but
secretly I was giddy from committing this adult, forbidden activity.  Brad
opened a can for himself and then put a CD in the stereo.  It was the Jay-Z
album "Reasonable Doubt."  I thought it was cool that a guy who was 32 would
be into that CD.

Brad sat next to me on the couch and we sipped our beers.  He didn't seem to
care that we were shirtless or our suits were wet, something that was not
allowed at my home.  "You're nice and lean; you must exercise a lot," he
said.  "Lot's of young guys are kind of doughy from sitting around and
watching TV or playing video games."

I was pleased that he had noticed me, and my groin swelled a little.  I was
sure I was imagining it, but enjoyed the thought that an adult man might
find me attractive. "I guess I don't sit still a lot," I answered.

"I bet it's all muscle and there's not an ounce of fat on you," he
continued.  He reached over and felt my bicep.  I'm sure it must have seemed
painfully skinny, but he went on. "That's nice. In a couple years you'll get
a little more definition, but you're headed in the right direction."  He
leaned back and flexed his bicep.  It seemed huge, and when he flexed, it
turned lighter than the rest of his tanned skin.

"Do you work out?" I asked.

"I used to, but I don't much anymore.  We should go to the gym together
sometime."

"That sounds fun," I said, flattered that he wanted to hang with me.

By that time the beer was having it's effect on me.  I felt really happy to
be here, hanging with a cool older guy, drinking and talking.  I had to pee,
so I asked him where the bathroom was, even though I knew.  He pointed to a
door on the left.

I went in and stood at the toilet.  On the back of the tank was a stack of
magazines.  Playboy was on top.  I picked it up as I peed and saw a "High
Society" magazine underneath.  I knew there might be pictures of hard cocks
in that one, and I looked at the other magazines to see what was there.  The
stack contained a wide variety of erotica: Lesbian, Gay, S&M.   I had
finished peeing, but wanted to explore more. I picked up a magazine called
"Inches" and quickly leafed through it.  I saw lots of naked men with erect
cocks.  My heart pounded and my own cock started to expand.  I quickly
thought of shoving the magazine down my trunks but ruled out that idea.  I
wanted a better look -- Maybe I could use the bathroom again later.  I hoped
Brad didn't start wondering why I was taking so long, but I had to wait a
bit until my groin got under control.

I left the bathroom hoping my still semi-erect cock wasn't noticeable.  As I
stepped through the bathroom door I saw Brad still on the couch looking
directly toward my groin, but then he looked away as if he noticed nothing.
I sat next to him on the couch, took a drink of my beer, and didn't know
what to say.  Why would someone have such a variety of adult magazines?  Was
Brad a bisexual?  I'd heard the term, and always pictured some sort of
half-effeminate, half-manly swinger from an old movie.  How could I get one
of those magazines?  If Brad was so open about leaving magazines out, maybe
he was open about other things.  I wished I could see him naked with a
boner, but had no idea how to make that happen.  I decided it was now or
never, and made a feeble try. "Nice magazines," I said.

"Oh, you saw the magazines on the toilet," he answered nonchalantly.  "See
anything you like?  You're welcome to borrow one -- I know what it's like to
be a horny teenager."

This was the most sexual conversation I'd ever had with an adult.  I wasn't
sure what I should say, but Brad continued.

"In fact, you can go in the bathroom right now and use one if you like.  Or
you can do it right here on the couch -- I don't care."

I was tempted to rip down my trunks right there and start jacking; this
conversation and the memory of the hard cocks in the magazine had made me
really horny, but I was still a bit shy and my inhibitions kept me from
doing it.

Brad went on.  "I jerk off on this couch all the time.   It's something you
can do when you have your own place."

The only thing I could think of to say was "What magazines do you jerk off
to?"

"Usually I jerk off to videos -- want to see my collection?"  Brad got up
and opened a drawer under the TV. "Come look,"  he said.

I walked over quickly, hoping he wouldn't see my boner, and looked into the
drawer.  I saw the spines of several dozen videos.  At least half had gay
sounding titles which really turned me on.  A few videos had hand-written
titles on their spines with names and dates:  Tim 7/12/97, Scott 4/10/95,
and so forth.  For some reason I was really curious about those.

I pulled one out. "What are these?" I asked.

"Oh, those are personal -- maybe I shouldn't let you see them," he answered.

Instantly I knew I had to see one.  I was sure it must be a home-made sex
video, something I'd fantasized about making myself, but wasn't sure even
existed in reality.  But here were several, within arms reach.   "Please...
I want to see one."

"Well... I don't think I'm even allowed to show you any porn -- you're
underage and I don't want you or me to get into trouble," Brad said.

"Who would find out?" I asked.  "Besides, I'm drinking beer and that's not
allowed at my age either."

"Oops... I forgot about that," Brad said.  "I guess since I've already given
you a beer..."

I quickly pulled out a tape with the name Brian written on it, but Brad
pulled another out and said "This one's better."  It had the name Jared
written on it.  My heart pounded and I took the tape from him, trembling.  I
tried to turn on his TV and VCR, but the combination of my unfamiliarity
with the unit and my excitement made it a losing battle.

"Here, let me do it," Brad said as he turned on the TV and inserted the VCR.
He used a remote to start the video.

A room came into focus.  It was living room, but not the one we were sitting
in.  The camera panned to the right and closed in on a shirtless dark-haired
guy sitting on the couch wearing jeans.  He was older than me --
college-age, maybe nineteen.  He held a can of beer, took a sip, then
placed it on the table beside him.  He looked at the camera and grinned,
then unzipped his jeans.

I felt light headed and my mouth went dry.  My heart beat inhumanly fast and
my cock got instantly hard.  I sat back on the couch and crossed my legs.
Brad sat down next to me, still holding the remote.

The skinny guy on the video stood up and dropped his jeans. He was wearing
white briefs and I could see the outline of his erection pointing straight
up.  He sat back down on the couch and caressed his hardon through his
briefs.  I wanted him to take them off -- I wanted to see his hard cock.

"Did you take this video?  How did you find someone to do it for you on
camera?"  I squeaked.

"Oh, you can find people around who'll do these things," Brad answered.

The guy in the video continued to caress his cock, then slowly pulled down
his briefs to reveal his hard cock and tight balls.  He had a patch of dark
hair above his cock, and his middle area was white and untanned, contrasting
to the tanner skin of his chest, arms, and legs.  He took his boner in his
right hand and started to jerk off.  The camera moved closer and then the
hand of the cameraman took hold of the guy's cock and caressed it.  My own
straining boner felt imprisoned by my damp swim trunks.  I wanted to rip
them down and stroke it.  I tried to adjust myself inconspicuously.

"You can take them off if you're uncomfortable." Brad said.  "Here, I'll do
it first."  I looked toward Brad as he stood, undid the tie to his swim
trunks and pulled them downward.  His erect cock sprang up and bounced
against his stomach.  It was the largest cock I'd seen in real life (having
only seen boys my own age).  It was at least an inch longer than my 6"
boner, much hairier, and his balls seemed huge.

I stood and undid the velcro of my trunks, and pulled them down to my
ankles. The fresh air after the damp, confining coolness of my trunks felt
fantastic.  My balls were drawn up tightly from the water.  I was a little
worried that he might not think I had enough hair, just a tuft above my hard
penis and none on my balls.  I started to delicately stroke my cock which
was oozing pre-cum,  and looked at Brad's naked body.  Brad boldly reached
over and took my cock in his hand.

"You've got a great cock," he said.  "I just want to suck it right now."
This bold, sexy talk was new to me, but I liked it.  I thrust my hips toward
Brad and he knelt in front of me.  He guided my cock into his mouth with his
hand, and rolled his tongue around my cockhead.  Then he took his hands and
placed them on my buttocks and pulled my body toward him, then away.  In and
out my cock went -- he was obviously  much more experienced than the kids
I'd experimented with, and was able to take my 6" boner all the way to my
pubes.  I was entranced as I watched the entire length of my wet penis moved
in and out of his mouth.  Brad sensed that I was close to coming and stopped
the blow job.

I was so horny that I reached down and grabbed his cock and started pumping.
  I wanted it to explode all over me.  Brad stood up and said. "Let's take
it a little easier.  The fun should last a little while."

He pulled the cushions off the couch and extracted the hide-a-bed that he
slept on at night.  It was covered with a multi-colored sheet.  He guided me
down onto the bed, and lay next to me.  "Have you ever fucked a guy, or been
fucked?" he asked.

I had never done it, and had never really been keen on the idea. "I don't
think I want to do that," I said.

"It's O.K. -- we can have fun in other ways," he said.  He reached over and
caressed my hard cock as I lay on my side.

"Get up on your hands and knees," Brad directed. I was a little worried that
he was going to try to screw me, but I did as he requested.  Brad got behind
me and started licking my ass.  It was something I'd never imagined or
fantasized about, but it felt great.  Until that time, I had never
associated my asshole with pleasure.  His delicate, tickling tongue felt
fantastic on my butt as his fingers lightly caressed my balls.  He began to
probe with his finger, and I didn't stop him.  His saliva-wet finger
penetrated me gently --  I felt like I could come right then, but didn't
want to.  He explored my behind a bit, and I really liked the feeling.

"I guess you can try putting it in," I said.  Brad got up and slathered his
cock with something from a tube, then grasped my hips and slowly guided his
erect cock into my ass.  It was a little uncomfortable, causing me to grunt
a little, but when it was finally in it felt really good.  I had the strange
sensation of fullness and my whole lower body felt really warm and glowing.
Brad slowly moved in and out.  My mouth was drenched with saliva and I
couldn't stop licking my lips -- I wished I had a cock in my mouth, too.
His rhythmic thrusts got faster and harder, sometimes almost knocking me off
my hands and knees.

"I want to see you come," I requested.

"I'll let you know when, and I'll pull out," Brad answered.  A few more
thrusts and he breathed "Here it is," as he pulled out.

I turned to see his wet-looking cock erupt, showering the bed, my lower back
and buttocks with his warm seed.  His warm hands rubbed the moist semen into
my butt.

I turned over, grabbed my cock and started pumping, overcome by the sexy
sensations I'd just had.  Brad was on me in a second, forcing my hands away
and taking my hardon into his mouth.  I came in a matter of seconds, and
watched the semen drip from the corners of his mouth.  He swallowed most of
it.

We lay down next to each other, spent and tired.  "I could really fall for a
kid like you," Brad said.

I left quickly, suddenly feeling like I'd lost track of time and hoping my
mother wasn't wondering where I was.  Before I left, Brad told me I was
welcome over any time.

I felt weird and guilty, and avoided Brad and his apartment for a couple
weeks, but my horniness got the best of me and I returned several times.  I
was always too shy to let Brad film me.  The last time I stopped by, Brad
answered the door and said it wasn't a good time.  I could see a  guy in his
twenties on the couch.  I never went back.  After that I'd  see him around
the neighborhood sometimes, and I'd say "Hey, Brad," but that was the extent
of our relationship.