Date: Mon, 30 Sep 2002 18:48:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jonathan Carter <jonathanclassof99@yahoo.com>
Subject: Starved for Attention

Starved for Affection
-- by jonathanclassof99@yahoo.com


Preface: This story is true. It describes a relationship I
had while a freshman in college. If descriptions of male
sexuality bothers you or offends you, please read no
further.

Also, readers may be interested in first reading a story I
wrote about a relationship I had my senior year in high
school. It may be read here:
/nifty/gay/camping/bobby-big-and-tight/


I.

I entered the spring of my freshman year restless. You know
what I mean: the air begins to warm and sex seems to be
everywhere; each time you take a deep breath you got a hint
of crotch and a whiff of armpit. Unfortunately, the smell of
sex was all I could get. I was without a fuck partner for
nine months and I thought I'd soon go insane.

During the end of my senior year in high school and during
the summer, I'd been experimenting with gay sex with a
friend in my graduating class. That had ended badly except
for the fact that it finally allowed me to recognize my
homosexuality. I thought that college, out of state in
Connecticut, would be a bevy of activity for a young queer
like me, but the social life was amazingly quiet. I was
relegated to late night online jack off sessions with other
lonely guys sitting in front of their computers. Through
these instant messenger and chat whack off sessions I met
lots of nice people, but who knows who the hell they really
were and I missed feeling naked skin upon my own. And
although I'd had just one partner before, I really missed
someone needing me. I liked it and felt good about myself,
in an admittedly superficial way, that my high school fuck
friend needed my ass or just had-to-have my cock in his
mouth. With out someone needing me, I felt not just alone,
but pretty damn useless.

But it was during this spring semester English class that a
professor suggested `people watching' as a way to understand
and create distinctive characters for short stories. The
Prof had mentioned that as a young graduate student he would
go into NYC to gaze at strangers for stories he was writing.
I decided to do the same and add a bit of cruising to
hopefully find a boyfriend.


II.

It was my third trip into the city that I tried a new
hangout - a fabulously trendy hotel bar that had many recent
positive write ups. Armed with my trusty fake ID and a
dynamite outfit featuring a classy gray and blue shirt, I
sat at the hotel bar sipping drinks, watching folks and
chatting with this extremely cute bartender. I lied and told
him I was going to meet family on Broadway for a show later
and also lied by saying I was in Graduate school. His name
was Mark and he was 28, about nine years older than me. It
was late afternoon, so his job demands at this point were
rather light and we had ample time to talk.

Although it was the basic guy stuff conversation (school,
work, sports) it was heavy with sexual overtones and
flirting. Even though I was completely new to this, I was
rather quite a natural and definitely new he was queer like
me. He seemed charmed by my personality and we really
clicked. He said he had family in Connecticut and maybe we
should meet for a drink next time he was passing through.

Anyone watching would have thought we were too old college
chums setting time to take in a game at the local pub, but
we both knew we were, in fact, setting up a date and
hopefully more.

Mark called me later that week and wanted to stop by for a
visit. It was then I had to admit that I was only 19 and not
in graduate school. He just laughed and said he, too, was
lying when he said he had family in Connecticut and really
just wanted to come up and to see me. He suggested we meet
Saturday, a rare Saturday off for him, and I agreed.

All week I thought of him when I beat off. No need for
computer porn or JO buddies this week. Just the thought of
Mark, his muscular upper body and short dark hair was enough
to make me cum in just a minute or so. I beat off as slow as
I could, imaging our French kissing and that's all it would
take for me to make a mess.

I did double duty at the gym that week because it was
obvious Mark was a fitness nut and I was eager to please.
Saturday at the pub couldn't come soon enough.

III.

Mark was early and had already finished half his 20-ounce
beer by the time I got there. It was a little awkward at
first, but a couple of beers later, the conversation began
to zoom along. It was barely an hour since we'd arrived when
Mark said, "So, do you have a single room or do you have a
roommate?"

"Just me. I put in for a single and was lucky to get it even
though I was a freshman," I said.

"I'd love to see. Why don't we get some beer on the walk
over and check it out," Mark suggested.

My heart was suddenly pounding. I was hoping he was thinking
what I was thinking. "Sounds like a good idea, lets do it."

When we got to my room, I hardly had time to open two beers
when he came up from behind me and hugged me. He put his
arms around my stomach and pressed his hips and crotch into
the seat of my jeans.

I almost fell with weakness.

I held the two beers up. One in each hand as Mark moved his
hands from around my stomach down to cupping my dick and
balls through my jeans. He held my crotch tight and pressed
his body more and more tightly against mine. I felt his cock
grow behind me as it was up against by butt.

Mark said, "I can feel your cock. Can you feel mine?"

"Yes." I said, as if answering a schoolteacher.

"Do you want to go lay down?" he asked.

"Yeah"

I led the way to my bed. I was bleary eyed with
anticipation, no idea what to expect, but happy that I
didn't have to look at that stupid computer screen to cum.

Mark and I lay down and began to kiss gently. Just lips at
first and then tongues licking lips. Tongues licking tips of
tongues. Deep tongues, so deep I wanted to be inside his
whole mouth.

Mark moved his hands between us as we kissed to start
unbuckling our belts and unzipping our flies. I started to
help, but he pushed my hand away. "No," he said. "I'll do
it. I want to do this".

He pushed me onto the bed gently so that I would relax while
he undid our clothes. We were soon naked: I, with what I
call a soccer body, not bulging, but athletically
serviceable. Mark, on the other hand had a body that had
been worked on for years. At 28 years of age, he had about
12 years of intense lifting in those muscles and every work
out showed. When in a shirt he was just "big", but nude.he
was defined and angelic. His body was naturally smooth and
his muscles perfect like a statue. I could hardly believe my
good fortune.

Mark lay between my legs, kissing my face and then my neck.
He worked on my nipples, biting gently and sometimes a bit
harder. When he bit hard, I moaned and wanted to grab my
cock and start pumping, but to do so would be unthinkable. I
just wanted him to keep moving down.

When he got to my belly button I was in ultimate surrender.
The spell broke for a moment as he stopped to grab the hand
lotion beside my bed. Instead of lubing up my cock for a
good pulling, he had pushed apart my legs and was pouring
the cream on my balls and pushing it back between the crack
of my ass.

He took my prick in his mouth and started moving slowly up
and down. While doing this he probed my creamy butt with
first one, then two, of his fingers. He was a perfect suck
machine. He sucked and fingered in rhythm and the thumb of
his fucking hand would strike my balls hard every time he
fingered my hole. It was a glorious mixture of pleasure and
pain that could not last long as soon I began to spurt. He
was trooper, swallowing as much as possible as his fingers
slowed and his bobbing head came to stop, all action now
just a gentle, soft, perfect sucking mouth.

I was stunned and exhausted. Although I had done nothing of
great exertion, I was totally unable to move. Mark
reposition him self and sat on my chest. Using his lotioned
hand, he began to beat off. I looked up in admiration at
him. He was in his own world. Eyes slightly closed, slowly
pulling on his 6+ inches of cut meat. His eyes glazed over
and he said, "Open your mouth".

I opened my mouth half way. Mark moved his cock closer to my
face and bent over, one hand now near my head, his arm
supporting the weight of his thick upper body. He continued
to stroke and placed the tip of his slippery cock on my
lower lip just as he shivered and started to come. Globs
spewed out of the head of his cock. It didn't shoot out; it
flowed like thick cream into my mouth. He didn't put his
cock into my mouth but kept it gently on my lips at he
continued his stroking. My mouth was completely full with
Mark's cum as I hadn't dared swallow with out his direction.
Seeing my mouth open and full, Mark leaned down and put his
ear against my throat.

"Swallow", he said. After pausing to listen, he said, "My
god, I think I love you".

IV.

As with all relationships, this relationship with Mark would
have its particular moments that defined how the
relationship would be recalled in the future. I think of
these times as the good, the weird and the Ugly.

The Good

After three weeks of going out with Mark, our relationship
fell into a wonderful, predictable routine that I could
count on to make me feel useful and needed. Because Mark
lived in a basement apartment in Brooklyn and worked most
nights, I was usually the one that would make the trip down
so we could be together. I'd usually spend the weekend. We
would workout during the day at the gym, go for a run, take
a shower, have great sex, and then he'd be off to work at
the bar.

 I'd travel with him on the subways and then return home
alone- Watch TV and fall asleep. Mark would wake me when he
returned home in the early hours of the morning. I'd take a
cold shower to try to wake up and then we get turned on to
each other all over again - a typical Friday night....
I got out of the shower and Mark handed me protein drink
with a ma huang ingredient, a natural herb that was like
super caffeine or an amphetamine. I stood there in my towel
while Mark finished his drink and talked about his night. As
usual he made really good money in tips. The bar had been
packed with youngish Wall Street types and travelers. A ten-
dollar tip for a fifteen-dollar drink tab was commonplace.
He came home with over $500 in tips for six hours work. This
put him in a good mood.

After our drinks we had a nice high going so we moved to his
bedroom were the bed was still warm from my three hours of
sleep. I loved it that he didn't shower before we started
action. He smelled like a musty oak tree, like what I
imagined a real man to be. Even though he was just nine
years older, he had many more lovers and fuckers than I had
even guessed. One thing that gave away his extensive
experience with other men was the leather strap loop that
hung from a large bolt from his ceiling. When he bedded me
for the first time in his room I didn't know what it was for
but I would soon find out.

As he always did in this late night sessions, Mark took off
all his clothes and removed my towel, got on his knees and
started sucking me off. In an instant, I was rock hard and I
lay down on the bed. Mark ripped open a package of Trojans
with his teeth and slipped a lubed condom over my hot dick,
squeezing my ballooning balls as he did. From his bed stand,
he took out a jar of KY jelly and gobbed it onto my cock.

Mark then grabbed ahold of the leather loop strap hanging
from the ceiling and squatted on my prick. Delicately, using
his great upper body strength, he lowered is asshole around
my erect dick. With the ease that comes with experience, his
hole relaxed and I fit in perfectly. Now, with the same
amazing arm strength and using the leather loop he lifted
his body up and down, up and down slowly on my cock. This
wasn't just sex; it was sex and a physical workout for Mark.
Sweat started to pour from his entire body and it pooled on
my stomach and chest.

For all his bulk, Mark was light as a feather on top of me
with so much of his weight borne by the leather strap. He
did what amounted to pull-ups while his ass stroked my meat
over and over. Better than any blowjob, Mark's tight ass
clenched hard to my cock, but I was barely aware of any
other part of him. His gorgeous butt was all but disembodied
- a perfect nameless, faceless fuck hole floating above me.

This night I came slowly, not as quickly as in the past. I
was yearning to learn to hold my climaxes, as Mark seemed to
enjoy a longer session on the strap even more than myself.
After I had come, Mark removed the condom and licked my cock
clean of the cum that was left.

Until this night, Mark always got off by whacking off into
my mouth without actually ever entering my mouth with his
cock. I was so happy that he was happy that I never thought
it too strange.

This night it would be different. Although the strap
supported fuck was as expected, tonight Mark would allow me
to give him somewhat of a real blowjob. I say "somewhat"
because he held my head firmly in his two hands as he stood
on the bed and fucked my face. He was aggressive but I loved
it, I felt I was actively pleasing him. The harder he pulled
me back and forth on his prick the harder I sucked.  I was
so enthralled by this new turn of events that I actually
wrote about in my journal the next morning. This is what I
wrote:
"I really think that Mark liked being with me last night. He
let me give him head and he was really into it. He was
holding my head and pumping hard like I was his first. Mark
was talking the whole time saying `you're my beautiful
little guy you know that? My fucking beautiful little guy. I
love your face, fuck, I love your face. My little guy's
fucking body is awesome. I'm fucking your beautiful face,
Jon. Jon I love your beautiful tight mouth. Suck me you
fuck. My fuck. I love you so much.' When he came I swallowed
it all and when I was done he kissed me so hard he took all
my breath away. I love him so much".

In reading page upon page of my old journal now, I can see
things I could not before. Mark's controlling attitude and
aggressiveness that passed for deep interest. And it got
worse.  Over the next view weeks, Mark began to obsess about
my weight. Although I'm almost 5' 11" and weigh just over
165, he thought I was too pudgy. He said he wanted, "to be
proud of me come summer time."

The Weird

Mark devised a fasting schedule for me to lose twenty pound
as quickly as possible. He said he'd act as my personal
trainer if I cooperated and I agreed. Two times a week, I
would fast for two days, except for two pieces of fruit. As
it worked out, I would fast Thursday and Friday and then
again Sunday and Monday. On these days I would eat a banana
in the AM and a pear or apple for dinner and all the water I
wanted. I even increased the running portion of my exercise
to burn even more calories.

Sometimes during those days I'd cry because I got so hungry.
I'd call Mark on his cell phone or just lay in his lap
sobbing with hunger if I was in Brooklyn. He told me to
think about the summer and how ripped I would be. His said
lifting weights meant nothing if you didn't get your body
fat down to the lowest percentages possible. He said that
during the summer he would take me to the beach where he
used to work at a gay bar and show me off to his friends and
former co-workers. I liked the sound of that, but still it
was the most horrible time of my life.

It took me just twelve days to lose ten pounds and another
18 days to lose the next ten pounds. I'd start the fast on
Sunday mornings in NY and then finish at midnight on Monday
in CT. Then I'd begin again on Thursday mornings in
Connecticut and cut classes Friday to be in Brooklyn on
Thursday night. I'd fast all day Friday until Mark came home
early Saturday morning after work..

Mark finished cooking the spaghetti and it was almost 3:00
AM on Saturday morning. Time to break my fast. Mark was
wearing sweat pants and no shirt. I came out of the shower
and he brought the plate of food over to the love seat near
his bed. He took off my towel and I sat on the love seat
naked as he took seat on the coffee table opposite me. He
twirled the spaghetti on the end of the fork and brought it
up to my lips.

But before he put it into my mouth, we played a game that
became our habit on these nights. Because I was taking a
short fiction course at school, he asked for a mini-dirty
story before every bite took.

Mark said, "The Costa Rican dishwasher was their tonight,
what happened?"

I answered with my fictional mini story; "You caught him
stealing food during his break so you took him into the
bathroom. After you knocked him around a while you made him
sit on the toilet and suck you off. You made him swallow it
all and told him if he was hungry again, he was to come to
you to get his fill of cum first. The end."  And I took a
bite.

Mark twirled the next forkful and said, "A cute delivery boy
with a pierced tongue brought the specialty wines to the bar
today, what happened?"
I answered, "He broke on of the bottles that was worth $200
so he started to cry. You took him out beside the dumpster
and made a deal with him. You'd say the bottle was broken in
the case if the delivery boy would give you a rimming. He
reluctantly agreed and beside the dumpster you dropped your
slacks and boxers and he licked your asshole for three
minutes. The cool metal of his piercing pressed hard against
your hole while you beat off. The end."  And I ate again.

This fasting and story-telling and feeding continued until I
achieved his desired weight for me of 145 pounds of pure
muscle and lots of bone.

On the day I weighed in at 145 lbs, Mark said he had a
surprise for me when he got back from work. When he finally
did return home, for the first time ever, he came into the
shower with me after I had woken up. I asked if this was the
surprise and he said "no".

While we showered he took a washcloth and started washing by
asshole. He used lots of soap and water and pushed his
slippery fingers in deep. I almost came in the shower, but
before I could he removed his finger, rinsed of the soap and
shut of the shower.

We dried each other off and he led me over to the love seat.
He grabbed the comforter from the nearby bed and folded it
over twice and placed it on the arm of the love seat, pushed
me toward it and bent me forward and over the soft, padded
armrest. With my ass now angled up and fully exposed to him,
Mark slowly pried my ass cheeks open with his tongue and
began to lick and lick. At times his tongue would stop and
probe ever so gently, and then he began the licking again.
He licked and probed for over fifteen minutes and I moaned
loudly throughout.

He said nothing the entire time he was rimming me, but when
he stopped he said, "Jonathan, you look so fucking great.
I'm so proud of you, I know it wasn't' easy but you did it
and you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I like
to fuck you if that'd be okay?"  I moaned a "yes" and he
began.

He was rock hard and my anus was relaxed as could be from
his tongue soaking. He took some petroleum jelly, put it on
his naked cock and place the tip of his dick right onto the
slit of my asshole. "I'm gonna push in", he said. As he did,
I felt my whole self being filled up with Mark. Despite the
lubrication, my ass was white hot but I pushed back my butt
to take in even more of him. He slowly pumped in and out. My
own cock was being rub against the comfortor and I neared
cumming. With just two minutes of pumping, Mark filled my
ass with the hottest, wettest and creamiest jizz I could
imagine. With his dick still in my asshole, he lifted me
back off the armrest until I was standing. He grabbed my
dick and with two pumps, I came all over.

The ritualistic ass-bangings continued for another three
weeks. I would get reamed with his mouth and then fucked in
the ass on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights and,
sometimes, on Monday mornings before I caught the early
train to get back for Monday classes.

I became, in my mind, a first class bottom. Mark was so
enthusiastic over my new physique and butt, he even bought
be some new pants and a pair of shorts from a catalogue that
were supposedly designed to accentuate my rounded bubble. It
seemed like deja vu because the first boy I ever had sex
with in high school was also enthused with working on my
ass. But now that I was garnering so much attention, I
didn't mind Mark's singular focus much at all.

The Ugly

I was now in a weight maintenance mode, so as long as I was
working out hard enough, I could eat most of what I wanted
with in reason. Mark called to let me know that he had the
coming Saturday off and wanted to drive up to my place in
Connecticut for a change of pace. I was psyched as I had
bought some cool retro furniture that I wanted him to see.
On Saturday morning, Mark called to let me know there was a
slight change of plans. A friend of his, Damon, from the gay
bar he used to work at, was interested in taking a road trip
and would be joining us. I silently fumed, but decided to go
with the flow.

Mark and Damon arrived around three in the afternoon. I was
surprised to find that Damon was  an African-American -
tall, lanky, and jet-black. I was surprised because Mark had
never mentioned that he had a Black friend.

In any event, I was jealous of Damon within the first couple
of minutes of meeting him because I sensed he had a close
connection to Mark somehow. When I gave them a "tour" of my
new furniture, Damon only said a handful of words - none of
which made a whole lot of sense to me, but Mark seemed very
interested in Damon's asides and even found them insightful.
Hence my jealous embers began to burn. I began to wonder if
they used to be boyfriends or if Mark thought he was cute,
or whatever else my imagination could stir up inside my
head.

It was four o'clock and time for the local sports bar and an
unhealthy dinner of bar food and beer. Mark was in an
especially good mood and forgave my many indulgences so long
as I kept promising to run more the following day. We had
planned to go see an artsy movie in New Haven, but decided
to pop on over to a blues bar instead to stay in the
neighborhood. Through dinner and beer, Damon maintained his
demeanor of detached quiet as my own mind whirled to try to
figure him out.

It was past midnight when we got home and I was pretty
blitzed. I used to be quite a drinker, but with so little
weight to carry around now, I had the tolerance of a
freshman sorority girl. Mark had to help me up the stairs a
bit as the beer took its toll on my coordination. We were in
the room and I went right to the bathroom to pee and wash up
for bed. I figured Mark and I would sleep on my bed and
Damon could pull out the futon.

Before finishing my wash ritual, Mark joined me in the
bathroom and kissed me hard on the lips. He held me tight
and said, "I have a nice surprise for you tonight". I was
thrilled, as he hadn't paid attention to me all night.

"That's great," I said, "but we better wait for Damon to
fall asleep first."

"But that IS the surprise," Mark whispered, "Damon can't
wait to get it on with you."

I was drunk, but pretty sure I'd heard Mark wrong. "Damon
can't wait for what?" I whispered back so Damon wouldn't
hear.

"To get it on with you. I told him all about you and that's
why he wanted to come up here with me," Mark said. "I told
him how beautiful and delicious your ass was, and I told him
you'd think it was fun."

I replied, "Fuck you, Mark. I don't think its fun. What's
your fucking problem? I can't believe you're even saying
this." I obviously had never talked to Mark like this
before. I was both drunk and mad.

Mark shot back, "I know what you are. You are sweet and
beautiful and you've a great ass. You like showing it off
more than anyone else I know. So don't get all high and
mighty on me you little shit." Mark was drunk too, but there
was a real edge to his voice now like he was different
person. "You tight asses always want cock so shut the fuck
up. What's your problem?"

I didn't know what to do, so I said, "I'm not discussing
this, I'm going to bed. If you don't like it leave." I
staggered out of the bathroom to my bed. I didn't even look
up to catch Damon's gaze. I went to my bed, made myself as
small as possible under the covers and passed out.

I woke up probably an hour later having to take another
piss. The room was still spinning like mad and I feared that
I might get sick if the spinning continued. Even as I was
trying to get my head about me, I heard a low moaning and
whispers from inside my room. I held my breath and didn't
move.

It was difficult to really hear anything distinctly but I
definitely heard something going on. While fighting back the
urge to throw-up I slowly and silently picked up my head
from my pillow and looked passed the foot of the bed. The
faint light through the windows was enough for me to see
Damon naked on the futon and Mark giving him a blowjob. It
took my eyes a moment to adjust and to believe what I was
seeing, but Mark was in his boxers and definately kneeling
beside Damon, his head bouncing up and down. That was all I
saw before I went nuts.

I don't remember exactly what happened at this point, but I
basically jumped and ran full tilt toward Mark and tackled
him as hard as I could. Mark fell back and cracked his head
against the wooden armrest of the futon and I started
wailing on him with my fists with a torrent of swears.
Before I got more than a couple of swings in, Damon grabbed
me in headlock and threw me backwards. Everyone was
screaming swears at each other I was kicking Mark with my
free legs even as was trying to use his hand to cover the
bloody gash that opened at the back of his head.

I squirmed free from Damon's headlock and ran to the
bathroom and locked the door.

It seemed like ten minutes or so, and lots of whispers
later, when Mark finally knocked on the door, "Jon, are you
okay, man?

"Get the fuck out of here you fucking asshole," I said,
tears now flowing.

"Hey, its no big thing. Everything's cool, let me in, I want
to make sure you're okay," Mark said calmly.

It was then that I finally saw the light, because I became
certain that if I opened that door, Mark would have raped
me.  Here I was, deathly afraid of my own boyfriend.
Everything was perfectly clear now, his manipulation and his
aggressive wasn't real affection, it was a form of violence.

"Come on Jon, open up. I'm sorry you freaked. I want to make
sure you're okay," Mark repeated.

Again, it was the calm in his voice that made me know that
he was going to do something bad to me if he got passed that
door. I decided to lie.

"Mark," I said softly, "I'm weirded out now. I'm sorry. Do
you mind if you guys just headed on home now."

"It's one in the morning, for Christ sakes," Mark said.

"I know Mark, but I'm not in a good state right now. I'll
come down first thing tomorrow. I think we really need to
talk. Just not now. Really, I mean, I love you," I said to
the motherfucker.

He bought it.

"Okay, you just take it easy," he said. "Call me in the
morning."

"I will," I said.


Of course, I never called. He called a couple of times that
week but I never picked up. One time I picked up because my
mom had said she'd call me right back.but it was Mark. He
was yelling and screaming, calling me a "cunt" and a "whore"
and a "faggot". He was totally out of control. I hung up and
a week later he started sending me emails, sometimes with
pictures of guys he had picked up - all to make me think I
was missing something.

I did miss the Mark I thought I knew, but not the Mark that
was.

I like to think I got my revenge when I printed out the
pictures he emailed of him fucking some young guy. I took
the pics to bed with me. I'd stare at the pictures and beat
off wildly, comforted by distance from him and being,
gratefully, alone.


Contact author at jonathanclassof99@yahoo.com

Profile of author at
http://profiles.yahoo.com/jonathanclassof99