Date: Wed, 17 Apr 2002 18:41:32 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
Subject: Arjuna, chapter three

This is a story involving teen/adult, male/male graphic
sex and not intended for reading by minors. If you are a
minor, or this type of material is illegal where you live,
please stop now, and go read something else! This story is
a fantasy meant only for the purpose of pleasurable
reading.

Other stories of mine can now be found in the
authors' index.

Feedback, always appreciated, may be sent to:
javabiscuit@hotmail.com


Arjuna ~ chapter three

by Biscuit


I'd always thought, if I thought about it at all, that
the reason guys fucked the way they did was because
they didn't have any other way to do it. Like a second
best option to fucking the way it was supposed to be.
I'd thought the guy who was doing it would be the one
getting pleasure -- the other one taking it like some kind
of sacrifice. I mean I could imagine wanting to fuck
somebody's ass -- there were plenty I'd seen that looked
extremely fuckable. Getting fucked was a revelation.

I'd discovered bliss with Freddy's dick inside me, but
in my dreams I gave that power over to Bhakti. We
magically became lovers while I slept -- in the casual
way  that you can have anything you want in a dream.
As the sweetness of it dissolved in waking, I was
blinking in the predawn light of Freddy's room, achy
and pinned under him, half numb. I knew as the dream
faded that Freddy was a guy I'd fucked, not the guy I
was in love with. What I felt was the huge gulf, as big
as the physical distance from the East Coast to West,
between what I wanted and what I had.

God, he was heavy. His cock was hard and he had it
jammed up against my hip. He was moving a little,
lazily humping me in his sleep. It must have woken
me up.

If I get up and go now, I thought, I can make it to the
ashram in time for morning meditation. I could even
see myself there in the quiet hall, smell the sandalwood
incense.

Who knows what Freddy was dreaming? I'm pretty sure
it wasn't about me from the way he squinted at me when
I started cautiously wiggling to escape.

"I've got to go," I whispered, as he looked at me like he
was trying to place who the fuck I was. He grunted and
turned on his back. Sighing deeply, he was sliding his
hand under the sheet to his hard cock. The sight of him
stroking it held my eyes. I was sitting up but didn't get
out of bed, watching the moving shape of his hand on
his cock, mine getting hard with more than just the
need to piss.

I fucked this man, I thought and waited for the feeling
of guilt to rise up. But it didn't. Not like the morning
before. He touched my back and I turned a little. He
was smiling up at me, in a sleepy, suggestive way, like
he was asking, "Are you sure you have to get up now?"
His hair was mussed across the pillow and the tilt of his
head was speculative. What I saw was a cute guy who
looked friendly, horny; somebody I was allowed to
touch if I wanted to. My wanting to was building by
the second.

It wasn't love, but it was a sweet thing all the same to
see his lips swollen from sleep and from me kissing
them, knowing I could kiss them again, to be naked in
bed with him. It was kind of like being a kid at
Christmas when all the gifts are unwrapped and the
one you wanted isn't there. The disappointment is bad,
but when it's over, you look around and realize you've
gotten some pretty cool stuff, anyway.

There was a toasty, yeasty smell when I pushed the
covers away to look at him. An awesome sight, his big
hand wrapped around his thick cock. Freddy grinned
much more broadly as it became obvious I wasn't
going anywhere yet. He spread his legs a little and his
free hand started roaming over my back and down to
my ass. The rough skin of his callouses made me shiver.
I felt like he was getting the same charge from touching
me that I was from running my hand up his thigh. My
fingertips worked down and under the warmth of his
balls.

His crotch hair was soft and not too curly, the same
dark blond color as the rest of his hair. He seemed fair,
like maybe his hair had turned dark late, like a lot of
blonds. There was a current, a ghost connection between
his cock and my ass as our hands roamed those parts of
our bodies that we wanted to plug together. I'd pushed
his hand away from his dick and taken hold of it, feeling
a surge of animal joy between my legs; remembering
how it felt when it was in me. This whole huge thing, I
thought, as I ran my hand up and down it. It didn't seem
possible, but I wanted it again. I leaned over to kiss it.

The taste and smell of him only made me want it more.
My nuts tightened, my mouth got wet and tingly from
sucking him. I was on my knees by his side, his hand
massaging my ass, rubbing the rounds of my cheeks
in his palm, straying downward and back up again.

He moaned a little when I let it out of my mouth to
look up at him, my hair falling like a curtain over his
crotch.  He looked as hot as I felt, his eyes half shut
with pleasure, his mouth slightly open. I watched him
feel for a condom on the bedside table. He paused
with it in his hand.

"Put it on me," he said, holding out the little foil
wrapped package.

"Okay," I said, though I wasn't too sure of what I was
doing. My first time. I might have looked a little lost
because he reached down to help me, getting it the latex
circle around the head of his dick and showing me how
to roll it down. I loved doing it, like I was being initiated
into a ritual. The same with feeling him lube my ass.
The stuff felt cold, but soothing, on my tender skin and
his fingers working it in were the first hints of what was
going to feel so good.

Freddy was the guru and sex was the mystical teaching.
It was better than the night before. We were face to face,
me on my back. I could see him, his face, his powerful
body, which was surprisingly gentle for such a big guy.
He took his time getting into me and I wasn't so scared
as before.

Being stretched open was still an uncomfortable feeling,
but I just kept breathing and pushing to help him. Getting
fucked by him was my meditation. Oh God, did I love it,
being folded in half, feeling his cock become the core of
my body.

That day, I didn't go to the ashram at all. Instead, I went
to the store and bought cleaning supplies. While Freddy
was at work, I attacked both of the bathrooms, turning
them into gleaming little temples of shiny tiles and
porcelain, and hung new curtains on the shower stalls.
Then I treated myself to a long, hot, luxurious shower.

At Elliott's house that afternoon, over our Celebes
coffee and cigarettes, I confessed both my infatuation
with Bhakti and my experience with Freddy. Who else
could I tell these things to? His bright blue eyes wandered
often and I started to worry that I was saying too much.
But when I'd trail off and try to wind up the story he'd
snap back to attention and prompt me to go on. I realized
it was just his style of listening.

His kitchen was sunny and the round wooden table where
we sat was worn but shiny. At one point, his hands, which
had been clasped on the table top, grew restless, and he
reached out suddenly to grasp my hand.

His skin was papery dry but smooth and warm, and his
grip surprisingly strong, holding my hand in both of his.

"Juno," he said to me, which was his own personal take
on my name. Arjuna just didn't seem to be something
anyone wanted to call me. "Be careful with this Fred
person." He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb.
"Alcohol is ... a powerful addiction. He may be okay for
awhile, but he'll drink, child.There's isn't a damn thing
you can do about that. We need to find you a nice healthy
boy like yourself." He smiled then and gave my hand a
last squeeze before letting me go.

"You need someone like me," he teased, and that made
me smile. I was relieved to leave the more serious subject
of alcohol alone. I hadn't said Freddy was an alcoholic
and yet Elliott seemed to assume it. I didn't want to think
about it.

When it was time to leave, like the day before, Elliott
kissed my cheek, to say good bye. I didn't mind the
little bit of physical contact he wanted with me. I felt
close to him, even though I'd just met him, from the
intimacy of talking that he'd encouraged.

I had one more job that day. A wheelchair bound lawyer
named Marybeth Wilson needed someone to clean for her
three times a week. She couldn't have been more different
from Elliott and Rob. She met me at the door, ready to go
out, in a stylish suit which didn't hide a pair of shoulders
that made me think of a football player. She was in a hurry
to go. In a friendly rush, she ran down a list of things she
wanted done and then she impressed me no end by
motoring her wheelchair onto a lift, and into her van. She
waved as she pulled out of her driveway. Amazing. I had
such preconceived notions of what a disabled person's life
must be like. Marybeth exploded them like a bomb.

Her house was a mess, but the kind that's very easy to
clean. Take-out food boxes and beer and wine bottles. It
looked like she'd had quite a party. Basically, all I had
to do was throw a bunch of trash out, do the dishes and
vacuum. My only dilema cropped up in her bedroom. She'd
asked me to change the linens on the bed. When I gathered
up the satin sheets, amused by the further evidence of her
unexpected lifestyle, a brilliant purple vibrator tumbled out
of them. Oh God. Impossible to put it back where I found
it and pretend I hadn't seen it. I was tempted to put the used
linens back on the bed and claim I'd forgotten to change
them. But where in the bed had it been? What if I put it
back under the covers and she'd left it under the pillow?

I'd never seen one before, up close, and I looked it over,
switching it on to feel it buzz in my hand. Without even
thinking, when I shut it off, I lifted it up to my nose to
sniff it. There wasn't much smell, but what there was
reminded me of the smell of Freddy and I got a hard-on
almost instantly. Oh Jesus, did I feel like a pervert. The
only thing I could think of to do was give it a wipe down
with some warm soapy water and set it by the bed. It sat
there shiny on the bedside table, accusing me the whole
time I spread the new satin sheets on her bed. Damn.

Marybeth's closet was full of beautiful lingerie. I wanted
to look at it, but didn't dare. Not after fooling around
with her vibrator. The bathroom, which was arranged to
accomodate her wheelchair also had a bench in the bath,
with rails. I could well imagine her powerful looking
arms transferring her weight from her chair into the bath.
And yes, I did peek in the cabinet where I saw much used
tubes of both lubricant and spermicidal jelly and a box of
ribbed condoms.

Cleaning her place left me in a state. I felt a little guilty
still about handling her vibrator, but mostly I felt in awe
of her. Her life seemed rich and full of pleasure, nothing
I would have expected in a million years.

My thoughts wandered to Freddy, wondering if we'd eat
dinner together like we had the night before. I was still
turned on from being at Marybeth's and was hoping I'd
see him. I was wondering, too, I confess, what it would
be like to feel something like that purple vibrator in my
ass.