KARL

 I am oversexed. Most boys think they are. I am eighteen. I really
 know I am oversexed. Since I learned how to jack off at thirteen, I
 do it every day. Not once, twice, or three times. Guess! Ten times,
 give or take a couple. I'm serious. In the bathroom, in bed, or where
 ever I can be alone. It seems I can always find a place of solitude
 when I want to play with myself. I most always have a perpetual
 hard-on and it needs my continual servicing. I just wanted to enter
 this as a prologue to my story.

 My name is Philip Collins. I am a college sophomore majoring in art.
 I love college and its social life. I date, of course, but it seems I
 have trouble finding women for sex. I have experienced nothing but
 rejections. I am still a virgin. I wonder what I am doing wrong.

 In fact, I really wonder how I would be in the bedroom with a woman.
 I am  very modest. Would I get an erection?  If I didn't, would she
 laugh at me? Even if I did get it up, would she teasingly make fun of
 my peter and ass even though my body is well structured. If I did
 fuck her, would I do it right? If things didn't go well, would I be
 confused, angry and frustrated?

 When I jack off I have the fantasy of satisfying myself and my
 girl. In reality, I am scared to death.  Growing up I was taught by
 my uninformed parents that sex was shame-shame. I was even spanked
 once for playing doctor on a playmate when I was six years old.  .
 My tuition and school expenses make for a tight budget. I work
 on the side, trying to keep in spending money. My folks have sent
 what they could. Without warning, my dad died from a heart attack. He
 left enough money to provide only for my mother. I am concerned if I
 can finish the semester and continue my education this following
 year. I really didn't know.  I am determined to get my degree.

 My social life has come to a standstill. I can not afford it. If I go
 out at all, it is to get a cup of coffee. This is a needed break. I
 have a special coffee place downtown.

 One late evening I was sitting on a counter stool nursing my coffee
 and going over some return test papers.  A  man, about thirty,
 entered the shop, sat at the end of the row of empty stools and also
 ordered a cup. Then, he saw me.

 "Hi, There! With those books and papers, you must be a student.
 What's your major?"

 I looked up to see a real friendly smile coming my way.

 "Phil." I replied. "I'm an art major."

 "Hey! I majored in art myself but changed to architecture. Still do
 oil painting as a hobby, however."

 The stranger slid over, coffee cup in hand, and soon we were
 energized in conversation about the world of art.  Time flew. It was
 now in the wee hours of the morning.

 "My name is Karl," the young man said. " I'm working late hours all
 this week on a rush job. This has been interesting rap. What say we
 meet again tomorrow night? ."

 I felt very much at ease with Karl, he had so much energy and input
 to our conversation.

 "Sure," I said. "Why not. See you here tomorrow about nine P.M."

 Karl and I hit it off the following three nights. He was very
 interesting. We both exchanged ideas about architectural design and
 art in general. He told me his project was done and we probably
 wouldn't be meeting any more. This was really a downer for me. I felt
 I was losing a real friend.

 "But, hey, I have an idea," Karl said. "This Saturday, why don't you
 come up to my place. We'll have a couple of martinis and I'll throw a
 couple of steaks on the bar-b-que."

 I didn't see why not. We could talk some more, and besides, since I
 could no longer afford food and drink of this caliber, martinis and a
 steak sounded like heaven.

 "Sure," I said."What time?" .  Karl lived in a newer high-rise
 apartment on Twin Peaks. I checked the apartments directory for his
 name on the tenant listing. It was there. "Karl Sandstrom - Pent
 house."

 "Wow," I thought. I pushed the button and Karls voice came over the
 speaker. "Is that you, Phil?"

 "Yes, "I replied.

 "Hold on, I'll buzz you in."

 The hum of the security lock sounded. I pushed the door and walked
 through the gold foyer to the elevator.  Entering, I checked the rows
 of buttons and pushed the one that said,"PH". I could hardly tell the
 elevator was moving.It sped upwards, stopped, and the door slid open.
 I found myself stepping right into Karl's living room.

 His large apartment was furnished luxuriously. Thick carpet,
 beautiful furniture, expensive drapes, and two large picture windows
 viewing San Francisco below. I'm glad I had dressed for dinner for
 Karl had dressed too.

 "I'm rather an amateur chef, too", Karl said as he stood at the bar
 mixing a pitcher of martini's. I smelled the aroma of French cooking.
 I thought we were going to have a simple steak dinner but French
 cuisine was another favorite.

 We finished off the martini's. We each had three. We sat at a table
 near one of the picture windows and Karl served dinner which included
 a large bottle of good vintage white wine. We had started our
 conversation on my arrival and talked all the way through dinner.. We
 dined sitting at a window overlooking the city. It was a clear and
 beautiful night. A burning candle made light for the table. There was
 soft music in the background. Again, time had turned to the wee
 hours. I glanced at my watch. We still hadn't burned out our
 conversation. I knew we could never finish in one evening. I said I
 had to leave. I regretted breaking things up. I arose. I felt myself
 unbalanced. I had too much to drink. I started to walk across the
 room. I knew that I was a bit unstable. I felt Karls hand on my
 shoulder.

 "Whoa, there. I didn't know I had fed you so much alcohol. I didn't
 intend to get you drunk."

 "I'll make it," I said.

 "Look. You've got to take the Muni across town at this late hour and
 you're under the influence. Lord only knows what will be on the buses
 this time of night. Seems like there are more gangs of muggers than
 ever. Why don't you spend the night here?"

 All evening I had felt very much at home at Karls. In the back of my
 mind I really didn't want to go back to my shabby dorm. There, I'd
 have to listen to the dull, idle chatter of my room mate.

 "If you wouldn't mind," I replied.

 "Glad to have you," Karl replied. "Let's crawl in.  I'll show you the
 bedroom."

 The bedroom was another masterpiece of design. The room was large. A
 huge over size bed was in the middle. On either side of the bed were
 spacious areas furnished with finished mahogany antique desks
 accompanied by comfortable reading chairs, each being supplied with
 light from a long arm floor lamp. One wall contained a library of
 fine books. Fine appointed furniture stood against the other walls.
 Direct spotlight reading lamps were placed in the ceiling giving
 individual light to each of the pillows on the bed. Soft music was
 piped in. I was concerned with us sleeping together, but the bed was
 extra spacious. We would both have plenty of room.

 Karl turned off the room lights, all except the pillow spots. I
 stripped to my briefs, carefully folding and hanging my clothes on
 the brass floor rack that stood by my bed. I pulled the covers back
 and slid into satin Sheets.

 Karl disrobed and stood naked. He was blond, blue eyed and smooth.
 About six feet tall. I was transfixed with his fine male anatomy. I
 had never felt this way about any nude male before. My eyes continued
 to travel over his beautiful body. He had the looks of Michelangelos
 "David."

 Karl stretched and scratched his balls in manly fashion. He went to a
 dresser, bent down to open a bottom drawer. His beautiful smooth,
 well rounded cheeks were fully exposed. A pair of firm good sized
 balls hung in his pouch below.

 I had expected Karl was getting a pair of pajamas, but instead he
 obtained a handkerchief. He returned to the bed. "I sleep in the
 nude," he said, simply. He crawled in on his side and we both turned
 out our lights.

 Pillow talk again returned to art and architecture. I had sobered up
 some but was very relaxed. I could not get the vision of Karls naked
 body out of my mind. Here he was in the same bed with me. An
 uncontrollable force was inching my body towards his side of the bed.
 I could not stop. When I got to the middle, there was Karl. He had
 also been inching towards me. We touched. Without a word we embraced.
 We squeezed each other hard. Our lips locked.  We rocked back and
 forth. Karl lay on his back. I mounted him, sitting on his stomach. I
 put my hands behind his shoulders and brought his head forward so our
 lips could again touch. I pulled him up to me tightly, running my
 tongue into his open mouth, around its roof, over his teeth, and into
 every crevice. My passion was uncontrollable.

 Karl's hand slid down my stomach and under the elastic of my briefs.
 He gently gripped my penis. He slowly stroked me. I had never been
 touched before. It seemed so natural. God, it felt good. Quickly, I
 removed my briefs and lay on my back. Karls hand continued to slowly
 slide my penis skin up and down. I spread my legs wider. His hand
 moved to my balls. One ball was  gently explored, then the other.
 With his hand softly gripping both, he gave them a gentle loving
 squeeze.

 Karl moved on top and straddled me on his knees, face down. He bent
 over and put my penis into his mouth. His buttocks were raised over
 my head. His balls and stiff shaft were at my face. I took his penis
 and held it. I explored it with my hand. I ran my fingers over its
 tip. I gently massaged it. My saliva ran freely. I had to do it.  I
 had to feel his penis inside my mouth. With both hands I gripped him
 by the small of his back. I lifted my head. My lips opened.  His hard
 erection slipped through them. My fast moving tongue rapidly coated
 it with saliva as it slowly moved farther into my mouth. It felt so
 natural. It felt so right. It felt so good. I tilted my head, letting
 its stiffness push deeper into my throat. I was in utter bliss. The
 intense, exciting sensation Karl was giving my crotch and the feeling
 of his penis in my mouth put everything into utter harmony. I had
 never had a cock in my mouth let alone swallowing cum, not even my
 own.  Tonight I swallowed Karls.

 I had to leave early the next morning for school. I hated to leave
 the nice surroundings and Karl's warm body.  I slipped out of bed
 without waking him, dressed, helped myself to a cup of coffee, which
 I made, and got ready to depart. I realized Karl did not have my
 phone number. I found a note pad and wrote what a wonderful evening I
 had.  I asked him to call me at the dorm.

 During classes my mind would only think of Karl and the fantastic
 night. When I had the chance, I jacked off three times vividly
 reliving my experience. Karl just had to call me.

 The phone in the dorm hallway rang numerous times during the evening.
 It seemed that someone else would always beat me to its answering.
 Each time I expected my name to be yelled down the corridor. Each
 time it wasn't for me. Finally, my hopes were realized. A call did
 arrive. It was Karl.

 "Hi, Phil. Sorry I didn't get a chance to phone earlier. How about
 coming over next Friday night and we'll spend the weekend here at my
 pad."

 My heart was pounding.

 "I'd like to, Karl. Same time? Can I bring anything?".

 "Just your body," Carl replied with a playful chuckle. "Yes. Same
 time."

 Karl was waiting when the elevator door to his penthouse opened. I
 stepped out. There no words said. We immediately embraced. Karl's
 hand moved down and gently felt my crotch. I clung to him,
 experiencing an immediate turn on. I was led to a large sofa. I was
 slowly undressed. All of my clothes were removed. I had no reason to
 protest. I stood naked, completely in surrender. I was laid down on
 the sofa. My legs were spread.  My penis was hard and throbbing. It
 slipped slowly into Karls mouth.  The feeling was intense. It felt
 good. In no time I ejaculated with a passionate cry. When I caught my
 breath, I sat up. Karl stood in front of me naked. The head of his
 erected, cut penis was in front of me. I gripped it and rapidly slid
 it into my mouth. My tongue worked furiously, my fingers fondled and
 gently tugged his balls. Karl was holding my head, stroking my hair
 and guiding me to give him the maximum pleasure. His warm sperm burst
 forth. I swallowed and sucked more. I wanted every last drop. I was
 still in a frenzy. I needed more.

 "Turn around."

 Karl turned and I pulled his butt to my face. My tongue swirled over
 and about his crack from his tail bone to his balls. I spread his
 cheeks. My tongue lashed at his asshole with saliva slopping licks,
 bearing deeper and deeper. I licked until I was exhausted then lay
 back on the sofa and cried. Karls hands were there to stroke and
 comfort me. I heard his soft voice saying, "Everything is all right."

 For the whole weekend we made love, explored each other, kissing,
 hugging, fondling and sucking. During pillow talk, Karl confessed
 that he too was oversexed and could never get enough. Would I like to
 move in with him.

 Rather than working my part-time jobs to make ends meet, I would be
 Karls valet and lover. If I agreed, I would not only get a handsome
 allowance but my school tuition would be paid. I couldn't refuse.
 This was an offer from heaven. I knew I would do anything for Karl.

 I moved in. I gave myself completely to doing all of the domestic
 chores and  satisfying Karl's sexual needs as well as my own. Karl
 did have some demands, but I was so happy being with him I was only
 too glad to let him use my body as he wished.

 He insisted that I always shower before bed time, that I stand before
 him and let him finish drying me.  He also insisted that I sleep in
 the nude as he did.  Every night I was expected to give and receive
 sex before going to sleep. In the morning, I brought him orange
 juice. I would stand naked in front of him as he sat and drank it.
 When done, he would fondle me then turn me around and run his finger
 through my crack. Some mornings he would spread my buns and run a
 greased finger up my asshole. I would then back get in bed and we
 would suck each other until we both ejaculated. This was a neat
 arrangement as far as I was concerned. I looked forward to retiring
 and awakening.

 Karl also set up a calendar schedule. Mondays, Tuesdays and
 Wednesdays were normal sex nights. We'd have the bed-and-breakfast
 sex, as I called it and maybe a couple of quickies during the
 evening.

 Thursday was my punishment night.  We would review the week. If I had
 done anything out of line or not fully cooperated with Karl, I would
 get my butt spanked. Not sadistically hard, just some stinging swats.
 We would talk about my misdoings. It was up to me to decide if I
 deserved punishment. To be punished, I would undress and kneel over
 the bed, legs drawn in, fully exposing my bare bottom. Karl used a
 hair brush that had a flat wooden back. He would start the spanking
 lightly with pleasant taps. The slaps would become stronger and my
 butt would start to sting. I tolerated the spanking until I had
 enough and learned my lesson. Karl would stop when I asked him to,
 and after I said I was sorry.

 If Karl was really disturbed about something, he would use a
 different approach. He'd grease his finger, run it up my ass, poking
 it in and out a few times, then he would give me several stinging
 swats. Then the finger treatment would start again followed by more
 swats. the process continuing until the punishment was over. This was
 a frustrating feeling to me. My butt would smart and my asshole would
 turn on. It hurt and it felt good at the same time.

 I really looked forward to Friday nights. It was bath and massage
 night. Karl wanted me clean inside and out. I would bend over the
 sink and he would give me an extra warm, high enema. After it was
 expelled, we would shower together, washing each others bodies
 spotlessly clean.

 In Karl's studio room, where he did his painting, there was a massage
 table. I would lean over the end of it. Karl would spread my cheeks
 and run his tongue in my butt pressing it hard into my asshole. Then,
 it was my turn to do his. Then I would then crawl on the table and
 Karl would take soap, water and a razor and shave my crotch stubble
 that might have grown  during the past week. I forgot to mention Karl
 had previously shaven me.

 I would feel Karls hands as he squeezed a ball lower into my sac and
 then gently run his razor around it. He would hold my penis by its
 tip and move the razor down my erected shaft covering every inch of
 skin. The surrounding area at its base would then be shaved. I would
 turn over and any hair was removed that might have grown around my
 ass and inner legs. When completely finished I was dusted with baby
 powder. A slow, relaxing blow-job blow followed and then the massage
 began. Karl would start oiling and rubbing the bottom of my feet,
 next my toes and between them and slowly move upwards to my ankles
 and legs. My torso, arms, hands and head followed. I loved the head
 massage. His fingers pressed gently against my closed eyes, then ran
 over my lips, and into and around my ears.  I would open my mouth.
 His finger would run over my tongue, around my gums and back into my
 throat where soft tissues were gently rubbed. He was careful so I
 didn't gag. This felt very erotic. The whole massage would take about
 an hour. As a finale, I would turn on my side, draw up my leg, and
 Karls warm, well oiled finger would spend time moving in, out, and
 around my asshole. I would do Karl next but, of course, not shave
 him. Afterwards, we would shower to remove the massage oil then fall
 into bed for one last sixty nine. Sleep came immediately afterwards
 as we snuggled in each others arms

 Saturday and Sundays were fun and games. I never knew how I would be
 dressed for the day. One weekend Karl had me wear nothing but a
 T-shirt and tennis shoes. Another time I wore a loin cloth, if you
 would call it that. There was only a three-inch wide piece of cloth
 that hung over the front of me. Whenever I'd get a hard-on, my prick
 would poke out from behind its cover. Whenever Karl found it flaccid
 he'd say, "Bet when I check you in about five minutes you'll have a
 hard on."  My prick would always raise and be poking out on his
 return. This automatically meant fondling, his jacking me off, or a
 blow-job.

 Neither of us could butt fuck. We both regretted we were so tight. We
 did acquire dildos from the sex shop.  They were just large enough
 when inserted they would feel comfortably tight in our assholes.

 Karl would have me sit on the sofa. I would draw my feet up to the
 pillows and then spread my legs wide. This fully exposed everything
 including my asshole. He would lube the dildo well and slide it in
 me. It would be retained until he had fully finished, giving me a
 slow jackoff that fully blew my mind. He would then remove it.  I
 would have to take it, wash it, and store it for future use.

 Things do change. I graduated with a degree. Karl kept getting
 promotions. He is now top architect for a famous New York firm.
 Rather than jacking off so much, I am cruising the San Francisco gay
 bars. Maybe we will meet some day. Maybe you will be my next Karl.

                               THE END