Date: Sat, 8 May 2010 16:28:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nathan Amsterdamn <nathanamsterdamn (at) yahoo (dot) com>
Subject: Internet Addiction

The following erotic story is a work of fiction, containing descriptive
scenes of sexual encounters and contact between consenting adults as well
as the use of strong sexual language. If you are not of legal age to read
stories of this nature or you are offended by the subject matter contained
in this story do not read any further.

All rights reserved. This story may not be distributed or reproduced on any
other sites or publications without the express written permission from the
author. This work is protected by all applicable copyright laws.

Internet Addiction
By Nathan Dante Amsterdam

I closed my laptop out after a few hours of late night research on Nifty
Erotic Stories Archive. As usual after every investigative visit to Nifty
as well as other erotic websites on the Internet I was fully aroused. As I
caressed my cock hidden in my cargos it was hard as stainless steel drill
rod. My balls felt full of pent up semen aching for an explosive release.
After closing out my computer I pushed back from my desk in my plush
contemporary office chair. I could feel my heart beating somewhat rapid
from the hot stories I'd just read. The armpits of my T-shirt were wet.
There was a slight aroma of pheromones permeating the air of my dimly lit
apartment bedroom. I was beginning to think my online fact-finding was
leading me down the slippery slope towards Internet porn addiction.

The Internet had been a big boost to the porn industry, professional and
amateur. The Internet also posed major problems between inquisitive teens
and their over protective parents. The Internet gave everyone their fifteen
minutes of fame.

Naked exposure, if you will; however, some users wanted more. Internet porn
had spawned a secret world of child exploitation and molestation as well as
trafficking in child pornography. I wasn't into any of those categories. I
was a curious young male who'd been caught up in this new phenomenon of
online erotica while away attending college. Normally, at home, even as a
young adult I couldn't get away with visiting spicy websites.

I'd been blessed with what now is referred to as helicopter parents. You
know those parents that hover over every aspect of one's life while growing
up. Even at college I took extra care to make sure that I kept my erotic
e-mail and my personal e-mail separate. I took precautions on the erotic
e-mail account to make sure anyone I chatted with or e-mailed was not a
minor. The first question I always asked when chatting or e-mailing was the
person's age, and then copied the reply message or IM into a special folder
for my protection, if there is such a thing. I also copied and filed my
chats. At some point during my Internet investigations I'd developed an
online friendship with a special person.

My new special online friend came across as a very interesting and
intelligent young person. We met in a chat room and after a few exchanges
we went private. From there we moved onto e-mailing each other on a daily
basis or more. Of course I asked the age question of my new online pal and
filed it away. He told me he was nineteen going on twenty in the summer and
a college sophomore attending a west coast university. I had a cousin in
Arizona about the same age who was attending college in Phoenix, so I knew
a little about the area of which he spoke. From our conversations I had no
reason to think otherwise of my online pal. He was articulate and used the
idioms of a nineteen year old college student. After we exchanged a couple
revealing e-mails he confided that he was bisexual, which peeked my
interest as I had yet to define my sexuality.

After numerous e-mail exchanges I felt I could discuss my inner most
feelings with the mysterious online friend on the other end. There is
something special about the Internet: anonymity. Oh, we had exchanged names
but I hadn't given him my real name and I was sure he hadn't revealed his
true name. Both of us by way of our exchanges learned that we were somewhat
limited when it came to sex in our lives; however, our conversations would
indicate that we both were interested in trying something new: male to male
sexual adventure.

At no time during my twenty-one years had I ever experienced a single male
to male sexual encounter; in fact, I hadn't had that many female to male
relationships. Since my first year in college away form home I'd become
interested in all types of sex, but my mind and curiosity always came back
to male on male sex. Not that the thoughts of male to male hook ups hadn't
crossed my mind years before, it was just didn't happen when and where I
grew up.

During my adolescent years growing up homophobia was alive and well in the
conservative religious community where I was raised. Parents were very
protective and restrictive. The uptight adults were obsessed with ferreting
out wicked little homosexual perverts. We were constantly questioned about
our friends, male and female, by our parents. Sometimes we were told that
we were spending too much time with a particular friend. The city fathers
and church elders wanted their city to be clean and free from the sins of
homosexuality. Every once in a while schools were awash with rumor and
innuendo about students being caught by peers, parents or teachers,
engaging in some type of unsavory sexual misconduct. In my town the schools
and churches were hell bent on catching little perverts anywhere and
turning them out.

At school teachers and coaches who weren't engaged in teaching or coaching
were sent to patrol areas such as bathrooms and other out of the way places
to catch little sex fiends cavorting, engaging in sexual acts. For me there
would be no sexual experimenting such as I'd read about on Nifty and other
sites. Later in life I thought that the reason for their homophobic conduct
might be because these adults experimented sexually when they were kids.
Again, I based my thinking on some of the stories I'd read. I'd only heard
of two instances where boys had been caught engaging in inappropriate
sexual conduct during my time in school. One time was in my middle school
and the other in my high school.

In middle school a teacher walked into the boys bathroom and found two boys
allegedly masturbating each other while they stood side-by-side at the
urinals pretending to pee. By the time the tail made its way around school
and the community the story had been greatly enhanced. One would have
thought that the two pre teen boys were capital murders. They were
immediately taken by the teacher to the principal's office where they were
interviewed and parents were called. From there the boys were whisked away
in handcuffs to the juvenile detention center by police. Of course the
media was notified but refrained from publishing the boy's names as they
were minors.

Many of us had seen the two being led away in handcuffs therefore by next
day we all knew who was involved. It was also evident when the two boys
weren't in school the next day after the incident. A couple days later
there was a general assembly where the principal made a clumsy attempt to
explain things to the student body, and further emphasize that the school
had a zero tolerance policy for any types of sexual misconduct. Of course
"any types of sexual misconduct" was never explained to the students. We
were left to figure that out on our own as is usual in our society.

Strange how our society is so intolerant when it comes to sex and can not
come to grips with sexual issues or address these issues in an intelligent
manner with their children. So, instead of parents dealing with the fall
out the next week the school brought in what we, the male student body,
tagged as pervert police. We never knew for sure who they were, where they
were from or what they were there for, but we all believed these homophobe
cops were specially trained social work police who were with the child
welfare department to hunt down little homos.

The pervert police took each one of us boys away individually to rooms
where they began interrogating us with regard to being fondled or touched
inappropriately by peers, parents, teachers, clergy or anyone else. Some
were interviewed more than once, casting suspicion on them. Of course we
all were told that if we were to give up names of suspected homosexual boys
we would be rewarded. The pervert police were never specific with regard to
the reward. As an eight grader I wasn't too impressed with these queer
chasers or there questioning techniques; moreover, I wasn't interested in
ratting out anyone. How was I supposed to narc out any of my peers? Hell, I
didn't know any gay guys. Oh sure, there was always rumor, but nothing with
any substantial proof.

There were certain characteristics that were supposed to indicate
queerness. If a guy wore glasses or stuttered he was probably a fag. If he
was nerd who belonged to the chess club or audio visual club he was for
sure queer. Of course any guy that was a little chubby and didn't engage in
any athletics was definitely fairies. One thing for sure that indicated a
guy was a fudge packer was after we got into high school and a guy hadn't
started to develop sexually: a late bloomer. The late boomers were guys who
had not entered puberty along with his peers during middle school years.

Most boys enter puberty sometime during middle school; most between the
seventh and eight grades. The boys that didn't have pubic hair or their
dicks hadn't started to develop were the butt of ridicule and sometimes
bullying. I'd learned from my e-mail companion that he had been a late
bloomer therefore was the target of teasing; however, once he matured
sexually he was no long the butt of jokes or insults. From what I'd learned
by the time he was a junior in high school he'd become the envy around the
locker room.

In our e-mails we had described to each other our genital area. From what
he described he was more than amply endowed. As I stated earlier I didn't
know any homosexuals until after I arrived in college, so I was somewhat
naaŻve when it came to other boys in school. The one thing the pervert
police told to me that got my attention and had stayed with me throughout
the years was the fact that if any boy caught engaging in homosexual
behavior would be charged and then labeled as sex offenders for life.

Just the threat of being jailed and then being tagged as a sex offender,
which requires registration was not what I wanted on my resume; therefore,
I stuffed my sexual curiosity deep down in my stomach and concentrated on
my studies and sports programs. Academic wasn't too bad but being around
naked guys in the locker room was the hardest for me. I buckled down and
graduated high school at seventeen and was enrolled in college before I
turned eighteen. I guess one could say I had always been bi-curious;
therefore, by my junior year in college I found that my curiosity had
peaked and began researching the subject on the Internet. That's when and
where I ran across my bi-curious cyber boyfriend.

I was not only curious about the guy I'd met online. I was damned excited
and wanted to meet him in person, but that warning from years earlier still
echoed loud in my head. Although the online erotic stories for the most
part had been labeled as works of fiction I couldn't help believe that the
writers of these stories hadn't been active participants in someway in the
stories that they wrote.

Some stories were just crude attempts at writing while others were much
more professional. I wasn't impressed nor did I believe the stories about
sex between mothers and sons, fathers and sons or whole families engaging
in sex. Stories about sex with animals didn't do a thing for me either. And
then there were the stories about pre teens and teens with the humongous
cocks; those that were over eight inches in length and fat as beer
cans. I'd never seen any guys hung such as described in those
stories. Reaching over my hand carefully caressed the edges of the black
plastic body before putting my little laptop before away in its travel
case. Tears were filling my eyes as I did so. I'd lost contact with my
cyber boyfriend a couple days before.

We had been cyber dating, if you will, for the past six weeks. A couple
nights before I'd sent him an e-mail that came back undeliverable. I'd been
online cursing chats looking for him, to no avail. We had gotten to know
each other fairly well during the past six months. Not only had we grown
very close we had been very explicit with each other in our e-mails and
immediate messaging. We knew each other's secret sexual wants, desires and
fantasies. We hadn't exchanged explicit photographs with each other and
never seen each other's faces. I feared the worst of course, thinking
maybe, all this time, he was a minor and his e-mails had been intercepted
by his parents.

I'd heard so many horror stories about guys meeting others online and then
they ended up getting busted because one person was a minor or chat
messages and e-mails exchanged violated some state or federal law. I'd
watched the Dateline series and that program scared the shit out of me,
reinforcing what I'd been told years before by the pervert police. Nope, I
wasn't going to get arrested over some underage cyberpunk who wanted a
quick blowjob in the bathroom at the local bus depot or mall. I dismissed
these thoughts as life was about to change for me in a few days.

Soon, I would be done with my junior year at college heading out for summer
break. My parents were paying for summer of fun in the sun wherever I want
to spend it. I was thinking about California as I had family and friends
there. Still, my heart was breaking at the thought of possibly never again
hearing from or meeting the boy of my fantasies, but hopefully this lapse
was nothing more than him changing e-mail address.

I found that during the past semester I eagerly looked forward to and had
grown to enjoy our evening online trysts. I fantasized about numerous
times; what his body might look like naked, and desperately wanted to meet
him in person. I wanted to meet him, touch his flesh and make love to him
much like the characters in those steamy stories I'd read on the Internet;
however, that had all been put on hold for now.  I discovered that I was
still just too scared to take that next step, that fateful plunge into
reality -- I was filled with fear of getting busted.  Good thing there is
some security in online anonymity.


Readers of my story let me know if you think this story is worth pursuing.

To contact the author e-mail me at: nathanamsterdamn "at" yahoo "dot" com