Date: Mon, 2 Jan 2017 17:10:24 +0000 (UTC)
From: short_guy@yahoo.com
Subject: The Bottom Apartment

The Bottom Apartment
by Short Guy

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The Bottom Apartment Part 1

I had just graduated from college and gotten a job in the clerk's office in
a county courthouse in northern New Jersey. The pay was enough to get an
apartment by myself. No roommates. I was pumped. I'd never lived by myself
before. And deep in the closet as I was, I had never been able to invite a
guy to my place. Roommates killed that idea. Getting my own place meant no
worries about anyone judging me. No one listening in as a handsome hunk
fucked me. No fear of being outed by some guy who thought my liking guys
made me a despicable faggot. I was going to be able to bring a guy home to
my place and, well, do whatever we wanted. And the apartment was in a town
just over the George Washington Bridge from New York City. A short bus ride
would get me to Times Square and its seedy theatres and porn shops that
filled the area in the 1970s. There were places I could meet other guys who
wanted to have sex with guys. I might finally get to be with another guy.

I found an ad for what looked like a great apartment. The location was
great, only a ten minute drive from the court house. My Dad had given me
his old car. It was on its last legs but still worked. The apartment was in
a nice working class neighborhood around the corner from a gas station. I
was making just enough to be able to afford the place without having to
worry about paying for food and other necessities. The building was a
three-decker. The landlord lived in the second floor apartment and rented
out the first and third floors. Pretty unusual. Most landlords would want
the ground floor and rent the two on top.

I had called the number in the ad and talked to the landlord, Aleksy
Angelis. He had a deep resonant voice which made me shiver imagining what
he looked like. He spoke with an accent (sounded Greek) and his grammar was
off. Not a native English speaker. His deep voice made me imagine him. His
first name must be a variant of Alexander which made me think of Alexander
the Great which made me think about books I had read about Alexander the
Great having a passionate relationship with a young man named Patroclus
which made me imagine this powerful king and this young man... Well, you
can guess what it made me imagine. The king kissing the boy. The general
fucking the stud soldier. The... Well, we made an appointment to meet at
the apartment the next day.

I rang the doorbell to the second floor where Mr. Angelis lived so he could
show me the ground floor apartment that was advertised for rent. He opened
the door and I froze. Alexander, my ass. He fucking looked like the Greek
god Zeus. He was about 50 but had a full head of flowing silky white hair
that draped just over his collar and fell over his forehead combed to the
right so that it just touched his eye. It was like those anime or manga
characters you see today with guys that have long hair in front that covers
half the forehead and overhangs one of their eyes. And the length of his
hair and the way it flowed made him look like one of those hunky guys on
the cover of romance novels you see in the grocery store. And damn those
eyes. Greenish-blue, clear, beautiful. He was short enough that I could
look into his eyes easily without having to look up too much, the way I did
with most guys. I'm five feet two inches (yeah I know--fucking short). But
he must have been only about four inches taller than me. He was old enough
to be my dad but he was so fucking handsome, I gasped when I saw
him. Smooth move huh?

As I said, the first things I noticed were his beautiful, manly face, his
piercing beautiful eyes, and that flowing white hair. But then my eyes
moved down and holy shit, he was wearing a muscle shirt that showed off his
powerful naked shoulder muscles, his broad pecs with the nipples pressing
against the shirt, and his bulging biceps even when his arms were at
rest. His shirt was both fitted and tucked in so I could see his incredible
V-shape. He had broad shoulders and a small waist. He was a fucking
body-builder. Older guys have a lot more trouble keeping the weight off and
putting on muscle but this guy was like a professional--didn't seem to be
an ounce of fat on him. I was standing in front of Zeus.

I couldn't help it. My mouth dropped open as I stared at his shoulders, his
biceps, and that prominent thick chest. My cock twitched. I was in fucking
trouble, I knew it. He was the guy I would be thinking about when I jerked
off from here on. The thought of him just upstairs, fucking his wife, maybe
in the bedroom right above mine...... Shit I felt like asking to use the
john so I could shoot a load right then.

"You here for bottom apartment," he said. There was that deep voice with
the Greek accent.

"Yes," I croaked. "Mr. Angelis?"

"Yes," he said. And I swear to God he took a deep breath and puffed up his
chest. It was impressive before but with that move, it was as if his pecs
had gotten twice as big. It was a fucking body builder move. I couldn't
help it; I stared at his pecs. They were beautiful. They were
powerful. They were all man.

Fuck it, I was staring at him, my mouth open. I looked up into his eyes and
saw him regarding me.

And then it happened.

He smiled as if I had passed a test. Holy shit, did he do that on purpose
to see if I was the kind of guy whose mouth would drop open as those pecs
muscled up right in front of me? Was he trying to see if I was fixated on
his body? Did he really mean to find out if that move would cause me to
stare hungrily at his powerful pecs? Was he testing to see if I was floored
by how muscular he was? Was he trying to figure out if I was a faggot?

I was nervous, you see. Not just because I was in the closet, but because
getting outed could be a fucking disaster. Back in those days, it was not
easy. Not that it's easy now with that asshole Trump about to move into the
White House with his Cabinet full of homophobes. I feared that if people
knew about me, I'd lose all my friends. It was 1977 and I was deep deep
deep in the closet. My parents loved me and I had been so messed up when I
was 14 that I told them I got aroused by men. They promptly sent me to a
psychiatrist to cure me of my homosexuality. I saw the doc all four years
of high school and during vacations in college and now that I was back from
college my loving parents had set up new appointments with him for me. The
therapy had been a total flop. I did realize that I was attracted to some
women as well as men but that put me only like a 5 on the Kinsey
scale. When I walked down the street, when I saw movies or TV, it was the
guys I focused on. Their faces, their pecs, their biceps, their hunky
muscular butts, and their mysterious bulging packages. Damn did I fixate on
their crotches. I had to be careful walking down the street so no one would
catch me staring at their magic pouches.

Could Mr. Angelis tell that I was attracted to him? Did that pose with the
chest mean that he wanted me to be attracted to him? Was it a fucking dare?
An invitation?

He was smiling. That was good. Probably he's not going to beat me up. He
put out his hand. Fucking A, that smile made his handsome face even more
appealing. In a daze, I found myself shaking his hand.

Oh God almost immediately he was caressing my fingers with his thumb,
holding my hand gently, as he gazed into my eyes. It was not the way a man
shook someone's hand. It was not the way you said hello to a prospective
tenant. It was not a rough grip showing me how strong he was or what a
macho guy he was. His hands were muscular as hell but his grip was
gentle. He was gripping me; I could not have removed my hand if I had
wanted to. But his touch was tender. It was fucking seductive. My heart
started racing. I got a warm feeling in my chest. And, truth be told, that
warm feeling spread to my crotch.

"You're Guy, right?" he asked, holding my hand and stroking my fingers with
his thumb--gently, lovingly, ... lovingly? What the fuck? I tried to keep
it together. My psychiatrist had told me how to handle situations like
this. I was not supposed to be staring at handsome men like this,
especially not if it was someone I might be living under... Living under?
Fuck me, I pictured him on top of me moving close to kiss me, his beautiful
dark eyes approaching, his lips inches from my own, his pecs about to touch
mine... Fuck it, stop it, you idiot, I told myself. He's gonna find you
out, man. He can't be into me. He's married for God's sake. And look at
him... he's a fucking Greek God. He can't be a homosexual like me...

Of course, all these thoughts conflicted with my desire to have a room of
my own so I could finally find a guy to fuck me. That doctor had done his
best to mess with my head but my fundamental sexual desires were chiseled
in stone. But at this moment I thought I had to suppress my instinct to
stare, to give myself away to this hunk of a man. He couldn't be into me,
not someone as manly as that. I have to put my thoughts aside, save them
for my alone time with my throbbing cock.

And yet, there was his thumb moving, always moving, caressing my hand like
... like what? like I was his son? or like I was his wife? I couldn't
reconcile my attraction to him, my certainty that he couldn't be into guys,
and the tender touch of his moving thumb. It was confusing as hell. But one
thing was certain. My cock was now rock hard.

As these confusing thoughts raced through me and I realized I should
respond.

"Uh, yeah, I'm Guy. I'm here to look at the apartment."

"Bottom apartment?" Mr. Angelis asked.

"Yeah, the ground floor apartment you advertised," I said.

"Yes," he said, "bottom apartment. You want to be on bottom?"

Holy mother of God, what is he talking about? Was he asking...? No, he
couldn't... There was no way... It must be innocent... He couldn't mean
it. Of course he didn't mean it. He's asking about the bottom apartment not
whether I want to bottom for him. But then, as his thumb caressed my right
hand, he put his left hand on my right shoulder and squeezed it gently. He
held it there like I was his son.

He said nothing, waiting for me to respond. He was squeezing my shoulder
again, massaging it. This if fucking inappropriate, I thought. This
is... Oh fuck it felt good. Fuck fuck fuck.

But what was I supposed to say? What did he fucking mean? What did wanting
to be on the bottom mean?

"I'm not sure I understand," I stuttered.

"I learn English only few years. Sometimes I say words wrong. I am on top,"
he said, releasing my shoulder and pointing up. "You..." he said, moving
his hand down and touching my chest, "are on bottom."

First of all, the touch of his finger on my chest nearly made me faint. He
touched me and... he kept his finger there, in contact with my chest, which
was moving rapidly from my heavy breathing. His hand now relaxed and his
palm rested gently on my chest. Shit shit shit it felt good. It felt so
good.

Second, I couldn't fucking tell if he was having trouble with English or
messing with me. Did he mean that he had the second floor apartment and he
was offering me the ground floor apartment? Or was it something else? Could
it mean? Could he be telling me... He was touching me. He was feeling my
chest. He was... Holy shit, could you imagine if he wanted ...  His fingers
were moving on my chest, two of them surrounding my nipple, caressing, now
circling my nipple, now gently stroking it.

I started to hyperventilate. What the fuck was happening? I was thinking
about his gentle teasing of my nipple. I was thinking about him on top of
me. I was thinking about his muscular torso encasing my smaller one.

Fuck it all to hell--damn my doctor--the truth was that I would fucking
love to be on the bottom. I was so totally turned on by older masculine
men, much more so that guys my age. Maybe it was a father/son thing or just
attraction to what I thought was masculinity which older men exuded and
younger guys were still trying to achieve. This guy was not only
attractive. He was exactly the kind of man that turned me on. And his
fingers were caressing my erect nipple as if there was nothing unusual
about that.

I was at total war with myself. I was so fucking attracted to this guy it
made my head spin. But I was also trying so fucking hard to repress my
attraction to men and never never never to let a stranger know that I was
into him. But if I lived here, if I lived "on the bottom," would this hunk
of a daddy corrupt me? Would he put me on the bottom for real? Would I get
to find out what it's like to spread my legs and ...?

Oh fuck it, let's see the fucking apartment and let me spend some more time
near this Greek God so I can look at him and feel what's it like to be
close to him. At least I can get a host of images to jack off to.

"OK, yes, I am on the bottom," I said, not exactly sure what I was saying
or what he would think it would mean.

"Good boy," he said. "Good good good. Bottom is good."

I had no idea what he thought I had just agreed to. I had no idea what he
meant by "bottom is good" but his smile and his gentle touch on my chest
was making my cock throb.

"Come. I show," he said. And suddenly he released my hand and put his right
arm around my shoulder. Oh God oh God oh God oh God, it felt so fucking
good. I looked up at him like he was the sun in December. I looked at him
like he was my father and I loved him. He was embracing me as if I were his
son or his nephew. Or was it more? Was it really more? He physically moved
me into the apartment and walked me from room to room. My pants were
uncomfortable because my dick was trying to poke its way through the
fucking zipper. My heart was racing as I felt the warmth of his arm around
me and his hand on my shoulder.

As we walked around he looked at me ever so often. But his arm never left
me. It's like I was his best friend. It was surprisingly intimate. It was
inappropriate. Maybe it was a cultural thing, a Greek thing. But it felt
fucking great. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Having a
grown man embracing me like this, acting as if it were normal, as if every
landlord took his tenant under his wing, under his powerful, muscular arm,
under... Fuck my mind was racing again. And there was the issue of my rock
hard cock. My pants were sticking out. If he looked down, there would be no
question his touch, his handsome face, his godlike body had given me a
raging hard on. He walked me around. He led me. I let him take me where he
wanted. We saw the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and then we
entered the bedroom.

Holy shit, there was a bed there. The apartment was empty. There was no
furniture at all in the rest of the apartment. But in this one room there
was one piece of furniture. A fucking bed. It was all I could do to stop
myself from imagining him throwing me down on the bed and fucking my virgin
boy ass.

"You like?" he said, looking me in the eyes.

"You mean do I like the apartment?" I asked.

"Yes but..." Mr. Angelis said, nodding to the bed.

What?

"Yes you like apartment? You also like bed? Bottom apartment comes with
bed," he said.

The bed had a carved wooden headboard. There were figures. They looked like
Greek gods. They were Greek gods. There was Zeus and Hermes and
Poseidon. Damnation. Wooden sculptures of naked guys with muscular bodies
just like the landlord. Only one goddess I could see--probably Athena. I
stared at the naked muscular men, complete with penises.

"You like," he said. "I can tell."

Fucking shit did he just see me ogling the naked muscles on those guys?
Noticing their dangling cocks?

"You're saying the apartment comes with the bed?" I asked, trying to change
the subject.

"Yes," he answered. "Was bed of my parents. They had in house where I
born. Was wedding present from my father of my father. Was bed my parents
used every night of their lives."

He looked at me, his arm still around me, his hand on my shoulder. He
squeezed my shoulder and moved his face close to mine. He gazed into my
eyes, massaging my shoulder.

"My mother die two years ago, my father last year. No more. But bed remains
and I want to keep. No room in my place so keep here."

His face was a foot from my own. His arm was around my shoulder. The bed of
his parents was in the room. He was looking deep into my eyes.

"Every night," he said quietly. "My parents use bed every night. Since day
of marriage. First night of marriage here. First time in bed
together. Where father make mother a woman. You understand?"

My heart was about to jump out of my chest. He was thinking about the first
time his father made love with his mother. It was a tender memory. But I
was a fucking pervert and all I could think about was the godlike father of
this godlike guy fucking his mother, penetrating her cunt, and fucking her
blind as she screamed with pleasure.

"When I look at this bed, I see my parents as if still here. I see them
hug. I see them kiss. I remember when I was child." He looked at me
intently. "I see father on top."

Time stopped.

Holy fuck. He did mean it. He fucking did mean it.

He was remembering seeing his father fucking his mother. Right in this
fucking bed. And he wanted me to know that is what the bed reminded him
of. His father on top. Where did that put me? Fucking hell, it put me on
the bottom...

And holy hell if all this didn't make my cock start to leak precum. This
bed was where this Greek god's father impregnated his mother. It was where
his dad slid his thick cock up inside his mom slippery wet pussy. It's
where he fucked her. It's where his father's sperm shot into his
mother. It's where he was conceived.

It was enough to make me faint. And not only that, this handsome stud of a
daddy was gazing into my eyes as he saw me absorb this information, as he
saw me imagine his father "on top," his cock moving in and out of his
mother's cunt.

Mr. Angelis's eyes were beautiful, radiant, deep set, with full, lush
eyelashes. His eyebrows were thick. His hair was full, no hint of
balding. It was soft, it fell over his forehead, it hung over his
collar. The shock of seeing his soft, flowing hair spilling over his manly
forehead, his eyes fixed on mine. It was like looking at Zeus. He was a
fucking God. God almighty I almost lost it.

"So," he said quietly, "you like apartment?"

He squeezed my shoulder as he asked me his question. He was looking into my
eyes as if worried about how I would respond. As if the invitation were for
something more...

Mr. Angelis saw me thinking. He saw me hesitating. He moved his face closer
to mine. His lips were six inches away. Fucking A, he was the most
beautiful man I had ever seen.

"Hard to find good boys," he said. "You a good boy. I can tell. You a good
good boy. I will be good lord for you."

Oh God, did he just say that? I know he has trouble with English but did he
say he wants to be my landlord or my... lord? God, can you imagine, him
being the lord of the castle and I'm ... what am I? His servant? His
vassal? His tenant? Didn't medieval lords have rights to fuck the daughters
of their tenants? And didn't Greek gods fuck boys as well as girls?

He had moved in front of me, putting both his hands on my shoulders. He was
caressing them. And then, oh God oh God oh God, he lifted his hands to my
face. He was cradling my face the way you would a child you love. His lips
were inches from mine. He was tenderly stroking my cheeks. He was now
stroking the hair on my head. He was fucking seducing me.

He was talking some more, quietly, practically whispering.

"I live just upstairs. Here whenever you need me. Me on top, you on
bottom. You take my father's bed. Good bed. Good place for you. I take care
of you. I take good care. You bottom, I on top. When my father die, I take
his place. I become man of family. Head man. Man on top. You take bed
son. You take bottom apartment. You take and I on top."

My cock was leaking precum so freely that I felt my pants getting wet. I
was fucking about to cum just from his touching my face. And telling
me... telling me... what?  Could he mean...? Could it mean that I was not
only taking the apartment but taking a lover? And not just any lover--a
grown man who was going to take my virginity. A married man who was going
to sneak down at night while his wife was asleep. A man who had a key. A
man who would be my landlord. A man who had my life in his hands. A man who
was going to fuck my tight, muscular, virgin ass.

I hesitated.  The angel on one shoulder spoke in the voice of my
psychiatrist. "Say no! Run away! This is the worst thing you could do right
now! He's just upstairs. He's going to fuck you. He's going to fuck you
every night! You move here and you become a homosexual. Say no! no! no!
no!"

I listened to the angel but what I heard was not what the angel wanted me
to here. I heard: "he's going to fuck you every night!" And then it was not
the angel saying that but the devil repeating. "He's going to fuck you
every night! How fucking amazing is that? How could you even think about
saying no? Are you fucking crazy? This stud is a fucking god! He is
exactly, but exactly, the kind of guy who turns you on. And he fucking
wants you! You! A skinny, short... You know what you are.  LIsten buddy,
you've been jerking off your whole fucking life thinking about this
moment. Your cock is ready to jump out of your pants. You want him like
you've never wanted anything or anyone before. He's Zeus come to life and
he wants to be on top! Say yes you idiot! Say yes! yes! yes! yes!"

Mr. Angelis saw me hesitating. "Please take," he said, caressing my face
and looking into my eyes. His lips were now almost touching mine. "Good
bottom apartment. You good on bottom. I can tell. You good bottom. I like
you. I be your lord, you be my boy."

And then, oh God oh God oh God oh God, his lips touched mine and we fucking
kissed. We fucking kissed! I gave in. I gave up. The devil won. I put my
arms around him and returned the kiss. His tongue entered my mouth. It was
strong, it was wet, warm, sensual, powerful. He was fucking my mouth with
his tongue. I was sucking his tongue, feeling it go in and out of my mouth,
penetrating me, claiming me. His hand was on my ass. His crotch was pressed
against my own.

It was too much. It was too fucking much.

As I sucked his tongue and felt his hard package against my crotch and his
hand squeezing my boy butt, I shot my load right then and there. I shot and
shot and shot and shot and shot and shot. It was as if the world had
exploded, as if all my dreams had come true. It was the hottest, best
orgasm of my young life.

And when it was over, he took his tongue out of my mouth and kissed me on
my eyes, one at a time. I heard him chuckling as he kissed me. He had felt
it. He had felt me spasming against him. He had felt my cock shoot my boy
load just from feeling his tongue fucking my mouth. He knew. He knew that I
would fucking do anything to be with him. He knew I would take the bottom
apartment. He knew I would lay back in his parents' bed. He knew that I
would look up as his mother did, that I would look into his eyes, that I
would kiss him, that I would suck on his powerful tongue, and that his cock
would enter me the way his father's cock had entered his mother. He knew I
would take the bottom apartment. He knew I would be his bottom.

He looked down at my wet pants. He stepped back and passed his hand over
his chest, caressing his own pecs.

"I'm glad you like. Good boy. Good bottom. Now we talk about rent."


The bottom apartment part 2

Holy fuck, Mr. Angelis had just kissed me. No, he had seduced me very
slowly, and then he had fucked my mouth. And I had hungrily sucked on his
tongue. His muscular, wet, soft and hard at the same time manly
tongue. Fuck me but I couldn't help it. I had shot a load so huge it was
leaking out of my pants which were obviously wet. And he saw. He saw my wet
pants. He felt my spasms as he held me in his arms. He felt me shooting as
I sucked his daddy tongue. He heard me moaning. And he said it was good. He
said I was good.

The whole thing was incredible. Both that it happened and that he seemed to
like...me? I had never considered myself that good looking or sexy. It's
true my parents said I was good looking and my best friend in high school
and my psychiatrist and... They all had told me but I didn't believe
them. I guess some guys just fucking know they're hot. Me, I didn't
know. Years later -- and many men later -- I now accept that I'm
handsome. I can see in my early pictures that what I thought was a skinny
body was actually toned and muscular. What I thought made me an ordinary
guy made others turn their heads and look at me as I walked down the
street. I had been so busy trying not to let others guys know I was staring
at their packages that I had not see all the guys lusting after me,
drooling at the sight of my boy butt. I now realize my ass was amazing,
high, pert, firm, round, taut, inviting... It stuck out so far that any
red-blooded man would drop anything to shove his cock up between my bubble
butt cheeks. And my dark brown hair falling over my collar and my own
forehead was just as sexy as the white shock of hair of Mr. Angelis. I was
a stud but I didn't know it.

But at that moment I found it hard to accept that Mr. Angelis was attracted
to me. Maybe it was that he was so fucking horny all the time that he
needed someplace to shove his fat cock. And maybe he realized, when I gaped
at his puffed up muscular pecs that I was just the kind of guy who could be
persuaded to assume the position... on my knees, his cock in front of my
face, his handsome face looking down at me and telling me to ...

Jesus my mind was wandering.

What had I just agreed to? Had I agreed to take the apartment? Or had I
agreed to be a "good bottom for Mr. Angelis and take his thick Greek cock
up my virgin ass? Had I agreed to be fucked on the bed where he was
conceived? Had I agreed that he would be my lord and I would be his boy?
Did he really mean to fuck me on the bed where his father fucked his
mother, to take his father's place, on top, where he belonged?

And had I just blown eight fucking years of therapy? I had been doing a
fair job of repressing my homosexual desires. Sure ,I fantasized about guys
when I jerked off. Sure my heart raced when I saw a thick package on a cute
dude. But I had refrained from doing anything about it. I had averted my
gaze. I had tried to think about girls. I had a lot of girl friends. I
loved girls. They were cool. They were easy to talk to. I had thought I was
at least moved on the Kinsey scale from a 5 to at least a 4. But fuck me if
this Greek god of a man had not seduced me as thoroughly as if he really
were the god Zeus.

Thoughts were racing through my head. I felt guilty. I felt elated. I felt
so attracted to Mr. Angelis that I couldn't see straight.

We were in the kitchen and the lease was on the counter. Mr. Angelis was
explaining the rent and that it was a year long lease. No subletting
without his permission. I could have a roommate move in but only if he
approved.

"You understand?" he said. "Visitors fine but if roommate moves in I say
yes or no. Can be boy or girl. But I must test roommate to see if good for
bottom."

Goddam it, was he saying that if I got a boyfriend or a girlfriend he was
actually going to fuck them? That it was really was like the fabled droit
de seigneur when the lord would deflower the bride on her wedding night
before the husband could fuck her?

Or was it just the English language thing... Did he mean to say he had a
right to see whether someone was suitable as a new tenant. Or did he
mean...?

Well I was not imagining having a permanent roommate at this point,
anyway. I was so looking forward to living by myself. Of course seeing
Mr. Angelis fucking another guy would be fucking hot... It would... Oh
hell, let me sign the damn contract already... but he was talking again.

"Here says I can come into apartment to inspect. You understand? I have key
and I can come in?"

I nodded yes. I knew landlords could do that and the lease said so.

"You agree here?" he pointed to the lease. I read it and it was a form
lease that said he had to give me 24 hours notice before entering the
apartment unless it was an emergency. But holy hell he had crossed that
part out! The words that were left said he could enter. Any time. Any time
at all. With no warning.

"You crossed this part out," I said, wondering if it meant what I thought
it meant.

"Yes, I come in when I need to. Too hard to tell before when I need to
come. I come to apartment when I need to come. I have key. I come."

My head was spinning. Did he say "come" or "cum"? Was he saying he would
enter my apartment whenever he wanted to fuck me? Day or night? He was
fucking married. Would he be coming in whenever his wife was out? When she
was asleep? Would I be waking up in the middle of the night to find his
cock embedded in my ass? He needed to come in without notice in case of an
emergency. Was being so horned up he needed to fuck my ass in the middle of
the night the kind of emergency he was talking about?

The thought of all this was both frightening and incredibly arousing.

"I come when emergency. When I need to see you. When I need to enter bottom
apartment. When I need my good boy."

He did mean it. He did mean it. He fucking meant it.

"Bottom apartment, good rent, good to be close to landlord, good to be
close to my boy. I take good care. I take care of you," he said raising his
hand to caress my face. "You young. You need man to look out for you. I be
your man."

Holy mother of God, my cock was getting hard again.

I coughed.

"I'm just not sure I want you to come in any time at all. Suppose I have a
friend visiting? Can you give me some notice before you come in? Like a
phone call?" I asked.

"Need to come to bottom apartment in emergency. No notice." Mr. Angelis
looked at me with those beautiful eyes. "I come when I need to come."

He looked down at my wet crotch.

"I think we already start good. You like apartment. You like Aleksy," he
said pointing to himself. And fuck me, then he put his arms up, flexed his
biceps like he wanted to show me how big they were... until they popped so
large I thought they would burst like balloons,.He breathed in and put his
shoulders back, as if he was just stretching, casually, innocently in front
of me.

Innocent my ass. He was demonstrating again how fucking sexy he was. He was
showing me what a man he was. He was showing me that he really was a Greek
god. He was making sure I realized how much I wanted him. He was making the
decision for me.

And now he moved toward me, his face a few inches from mine. He put his
hands on both of my cheeks, cradled my face and looked into my eyes. I was
getting lost in his greenish-blue eyes. I was getting hot again from the
gentle feel of his muscular hands on my face. I was fucking starting to get
hard again for God's sake.

"You good boy. I good lord. I gentle. I take care. Like my son. My boy."

He kissed my forehead so gently his lips barely touched me. It was the kiss
of a father who loves his son. It was the kiss of a very very very good
lover.

He whispered. "Sign."

I began to hear my psychiatrist's voice rising in my head telling me
to.. telling me... Fuck that shit, I thought. Sign, my landlord had said.

And so I did.


The bottom apartment part 3

I had just signed the lease to the bottom apartment. I signed a check for
the first month's rent.

"You need a separate check for the security deposit, right?" I asked. It
was my first time getting an apartment on my own and I wasn't sure how
things worked in north Jersey.

Mr. Angelis looked at me.

"You give me deposit, I give you deposit."

What the hell? "What do you mean?" I asked. "I don't understand."

"You write check and then I show," he said, and as he did so he caressed my
face.

I shivered in response to his touch.

"You good boy. You safe with me. Security two months rent. But for you..."
his caress of my face continued. "For my boy, one month only. I trust." And
fuck me his kissed my forehead again. I couldn't help it. I moved my face
closer to his hand so I could feel his power, his warmth, his tenderness on
the very skin of my cheek. He chuckled, apparently at the way the lightest
contact with him made me like putty in his hands. He understood the power
he had over me. He was showing me. He was teaching me. He saw right through
me. He was showing me what I was, what I wanted, what I was willing to do.

Shit, I was rock hard again and ready to cum. I signed the check for the
security deposit and handed it to him.

"Good boy. I be like father to you. I take care. Boy call father Daddy in
English. in Greek is babas. You call me 'babas' so you know I take care of
you. I be your babas while you here."

His face lowered from my forehead where he had been kisising me. His lips
were right in front of mine. He breathed through his mouth so I could feel
his warm breath on me. It was like feeling the breath of God.

"I be your babas. Yes?"

And his lips touched mine. He kissed me. He fucking kissed me.

Holy fucking hell. "Yes," I said. "My babas."

He waited a moment and then kissed me again. Again--so gently I could
barely feel his lips. Then more pressure, more. His tongue on my lips. His
tongue entering my mouth. Oh God his tongue in my mouth. Hot wet strong
soft. Farther in. Farther in. God his tongue was long. God it was soft. God
it was insistent, invading my mouth, taking power over me, moving in and
out, in and out. I sucked on his tongue. It was fucking incredible. It was
sensuous, sexy, loving, powerful. He was my babas. I was his boy.

He moved away. He looked at me.

"Now we try bed to make sure it good for you. Yes?"

And with that he stood up, took my hand as if I was his young son -- or his
boyfriend -- and he led me to the bedroom.

I realized that not only was the bed there but that it was fully loaded
with sheets and pillows and blankets and a comforter. And those sculptures
of naked Greek gods with muscular torsos and naked penises.

"We try, no?" he said. "See if good bed for you. I sleep no clothes. Better
that way. You too. Try. See if good."

And with that he began a slow seductive striptease. He sat down on the bed
and undid the laces on his shoes.

"You help?" he said, holding his right foot out in the air. Fuck he wanted
me to take off his shoe. I found myself sinking to my knees in front of
him. I looked up at him. He was so fucking beautiful, so fucking manly,
fatherly, godlike. I slipped off his shoe. He wiggled his toes as if he was
stretching.

"Now sock," he said. Holy fuck i got to touch his strong foot and slip his
sock off. I couldn't stop myself from holding his foot, touching it,
massaging it. It was well-formed, muscular, powerful. He was clearly
enjoying my massaging his foot. "Good boy," he said. "Good good son."

His foot was smooth, strong, supple. His toes were well-formed, his bit toe
large, round, soft. My face was right in front of his toes as I massaged
his foot. His big toe was right there. i couldn't stop... I
couldn't... Fuck me I attacked his big toe as if it was a popsicle. I
fucking sucked on that big toe like it would save my life.

God oh God. It was so fucking hot being at his feet sucking on that soft,
round, supple appendage. His hand caressed my hair as I sucked him.

"Yes, yes, yes. Good boy. Good boy."

I released his toe, stunned at what I had done. He was smiling. He was not
pissed. He had liked it. He had fucking liked that I wanted to suck on this
big toe. To kneel at his feet.

He put up his other foot and I did the same. I removed his shoe and his
sock and I sucked his other toe. I saw stars. I saw his eyes looking down
at me as I serviced his foot.

And then as I knelt on the floor before him, he removed his foot, he stood
up and before I knew what had happened, he had undone his belt, put his
hands under his briefs and shoved down his pants and his briefs at the same
time, unleashing his thick cock right in front of my face. He stepped out
of his pants and as he did so his semi-hard cock brushed my face. I gasped
and looked at it, then up at him. As I did so, he slipped off his muscle
shirt.

He was totally naked. His cock was poised at my mouth. His muscular pecs
were full and heavy above me. His eyes were piercing. His hand caressed the
long hair on my head.

We were supposed to be testing the bed weren't we? We were supposed to...

I couldn't help myself. I fucking couldn't help it. I had waited my whole
fucking life for something like this to happen. I had waited long enough.

I opened my mouth as if to speak. But my babas knew me. He could read my
mind. He knew what I wanted. He knew what I longed for. He knew why I was
on my knees. He knew why I had eagerly assumed the position just because he
asked me to. He knew, he knew, he knew, he knew.

Seeing a hot young boy kneeling before him, the boy's pants still wet with
his own cum from kissing his new lord, he did what any horny muscle man
would do. He moved forward and gently pushed his cock into my mouth.

I saw stars. It was heaven. It was a dream come true. God's cock was in my
mouth. His sperm shoot was sliding over my young tongue. His slit was
oozing liquid. His penis was throbbing with desire. My penis was throbbing
with desire. I looked up at him, at my babas, at my lord, and I sucked his
friggin' cock.

It was not the best blow job in the world. It was my first, for
godsake. But holy fuck do I still get hard remembering the first feel of
that Zeus cock between my lips and on my tongue. The sensation of him
rocking back and forth. In and out. In and out. Caressing my hair, my
face. Fucking my boy mouth. Insistently. Gently. Lovingly. Getting what he
needed. Giving me what I needed.

I sucked him for a long time. He was tenacious and lasted and lasted. He
caressed my head and said "my boy my boy" over and over again and I sucked
and sucked and sucked and sucked.

And then he pulled out.

"You wait," he said.

I watched as he walked to the kitchen. He took something out of a
drawer. It was KY lotion. It was fucking KY lotion. This was it. This was
the moment. My landlord was going to take my virginity. Right here. Right
now. In the bed where he was conceived. Zeus had returned and it was time
to bend over and serve.

He walked back to me, put the lotion on the bed and slowly began to undress
me. Each time my bare skin appeared he moved his face toward me and
kissed. He kissed my chest when he took off my shirt. He licked my
nipples. He sucked on my toes after he removed my shoes and socks. He
kissed my inner thighs after he removed my pants. And when he pulled down
my briefs, he turned me around and kissed my ass. He fucking kissed my
ass. He licked my taut butt cheeks. He pushed me forward onto the bed. I
leaned forward and lay my torso on the bed, my chest on the soft comforter,
my feet still on the floor, my ass open and naked before my lord. He licked
and licked. He got closer to my asshole. He got closer. Closer. Closer. And
then...

Oh God oh God oh God oh God. He was licking my asshole. He was licking my
asshole. I had never in my fucking life felt anything so good. He licked
around it, in it, in it, in it. His tongue penetrated me. His tongue was in
me. His powerful tongue was fucking me. His tongue was fucking me. HIs
tongue was strong. It was insistent. It was inside. Fucking God in heaven,
it felt good. Oh God it felt good.

And then he opened the lube and wiped it around my asshole. He massaged. He
circled. He massaged. And slowly I relaxed. I relaxed. I relaxed. And his
finger entered my ass. It slipped right in. No pain. No pain. Just a
feeling of fullness. It felt right. And he was moving in and out,
continuing to massage my asshole. And I relaxed at his touch. I relaxed
even though his finger was giving me such a such a rock hard hardon that I
thought my dick would burst from the pressure.

He was skilled. He was patient. He was slow. He was gentle. He knew how to
make a virgin ready. He opened me up so slowly that there was no pain at
all. I know that it is hard to believe. Virgins are tight and pain is par
for the course. But Mr. Angelis -- my landlord, my babas -- he knew how to
treat a boy. He knew how to make sure I would want him to come again, to
come often, to come any time. He wanted to make fucking sure that he would
have a boy to fuck whenever he wanted. He wanted to make sure that he could
climb into my bed in the middle of the night and fuck my boy hole until he
shot his god cum into me. He knew how to make me beg for it, to want it, to
fucking beg him to fuck me. He knew what he was doing. He opened me
gently. He got me ready. He prepared the table for the feast. He warmed the
plate. He was a snowplow opening a path for the passage of solid moving
objects.

And when I was ready, when I was comfortable with four fingers in my
rectum, Mr. Angelis put lube on his thick cock. He put more lube on my
asshole and he entered me. His penis slipped in like it belonged there,
like it was at home, like it was where it needed to be. His cock filled me
like it was the missing piece of me, like it was the key in the hole that
unlocked me. The feeling of his cock in me was magical. It was wondrous. It
was a miracle.

He started to fuck me and the miracle increased. There was a God after
all. There was a God. This feeling was so wonderful that it was like seeing
the face of God. Mr. Angelis fucked me slowly, carefully, tenderly. And as
I got completely used to being filled with his throbbing Greek sword, he
started fucking me in earnest. He was fucking me and fucking me and fucking
me and fucking me.

"My boy. My good boy. My good bottom boy."

Holy fuck was it amazing to have him compliment me, to tell me I was good,
to tell me my ass was good, to tell me that it felt as good for him as it
did for me. He was a fucking god who had come down to earth. And of all the
people, all the women, all the men, all the girls, all the boys, he had
chosen me. He had chosen me. He wanted me to be his boy.

I shuddered and breathed heavily as I felt him shoving his thick cock in
and out of me.

And then, he removed his cock. I felt bereft. I felt empty. I felt...

He lifted me up and placed me on my back, my head on the pillow.

He pushed my legs back and back and back until they were on my shoulders,
my asshole open and ready for his dick. He lowered himself and kissed me on
the mouth.

"Pillow was the one my mother used on wedding night. Bed where she lay when
my father took her. When father cock entered her for first time. My father
on top." He kissed me again. "Now me." And he speared me with his penis,
looking into my eyes as he did so. He started fucking again, slowly at
first, then faster. His face approached mine. My ankles were on his
shoulders. I was bent in two, my shoulders on my chest, my ankles over his
shoulders, his muscular Zeus-like pecs pressed on mine, his lips on my own,
his cock in my asshole.

"Now me," he said, over and over again. "Now me. Now me. Now me. Now me."

And with each "now me" he shoved his cock into me as deep as it would go.

And then when his fucking reached a new intensity, he said, "You give
deposit. I give deposit." And with that declaration, he shot his silky cum
deep in my bowels. He shot and shot and shot and shot and shot and shot and
shot and shot. I felt the cum hurling out of his penis. I felt it hitting
my insides, like a burst of water from a firehose. I felt that power of his
forceful thrusts. I felt the impact of his liquid spurts. He filled me with
his deposit.

And sometime during these thrusts of Greek semen into me, my own cock had
exploded. We had cum at the same time. We had cum at the same time.

When it was over, his thick cock still embedded in me, he kissed my
forehead and then, very very gently, my lips.

"You like bed?" he asked, his lips moving on mine.

"Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes." I couldn't stop saying yes. I had just lost
my virginity. I had just sucked my first dick. I had just been fucked for
the first time. And it was good. I saw what it was to be a homosexual and I
saw that it was good. Fuck the psychiatrist. Fuck it all. I was a boy. I
was the landlord's boy.

"I like the bed. I like the apartment. And I fucking love you," I said,
surprised by my own ferocity.

He kissed me again. He licked my lips. He looked in my eyes, his cock still
throbbing in my ass.

"Good boy. Good tenant. Good bottom apartment. Good bottom. I like too. I
like too."

And that's how I got my first apartment.


Short Guy Stories

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/driving-instructor

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/play-like-a-man

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/office-hours

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/will-you-be-my-buddy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/daddy-issues