Too Good To Be True

Discussion in 'Fictitious Stories' started by flaneur, Jun 26, 2010.

  1. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    This is the story of what I am sure was one of the great loves of my life. I'll try to keep it as close to the truth as I can. I am no longer in love, but thought it would be good to experience the catharsis of writing this huge experience down - plus there were some pretty hot times I hope you'll enjoy... ;)


    Too Good To Be True, Part 1:

    My best friend wouldn't quit. Every time we spoke, this same name kept popping up: Adam.

    Robert and I had been best friends since we were eight years old. We were now 19, at different universities in the same city, and closer than ever after having come out to each other two years earlier. It was early December, 2007. In September, he had started studying Spanish and had started making a lot of new friends from this class. Adam was one of them.

    "You have to meet him," Robert always said, "Adam's maybe not your type - not one of those anorexic boys you usually go for - but he's 20 and he's really hot, with a great body! He used to be a champion swimmer... I haven't seen him in the water but in a tight t-shirt... Jesus... He's really smart too, a real intellectual - English isn't his first language, but he speaks it better than me. Oh, and he's Czech..."

    After a messy break up - and months of lying myself that I was over it - I wasn't sure I would ever "feel" again. I had been numbed by the pain, the breakdowns and the heartache of unrequited first love over the course of a year. I hadn't seen the guy in six months, and wasn't interested in anyone. I was turning into a celibate nihilist.

    I didn't even want to go out. I turned down most party invites, just kept my head down and studied. Plus social network sites were in full swing by then, so I had enough to occupy my time. I noticed on one of my nights alone that Robert had added an Adam with a foreign sounding surname to his top friends list.

    I took a peek at the profile and instantly felt my dick stir at the image - those cold, ice blue eyes staring out through a beautiful, tempered mess of dark, curled hair. Must be photoshopped, I told myself - I was turning nihilistic, remember? He wore a black t-shirt and not only could you see his beautifully developed biceps and forearms; but distinctly crafted pecs under the shirt. One of his hands was in shot, thick fingers around a muscular palm. I started getting lost in his thick lips, his wide nostrils...

    I jumped up in shock at the vibration against the full erection I didn't know I had - pulling my phone out of my pocket and waiting one ring until I picked it up - to adjust back out of the aroused haze.

    "Hello?"

    "Are you at home? Again?" It was Robert - and he knew the answer before he asked.

    "Yeah... Where are you tonight?"

    "Just out on the town with some of the guys from class." I felt a lump in my throat and tried to swallow - and my erection was getting stiffer. "Hey, Adam's here, why don't you say hi?"

    "What? No, I..."

    There were some scratching noises, then: "Hello!" It was him.

    "Hi, how are you?"

    "I'm bloody brilliant! Got some good beers, good music - I'm happy - but why aren't you out? I've been hearing about you from Rob..." His mongrel accent gave no clue whatsoever as to where he was from. There were hints of every corner of Europe over some transatlantic drawl. His voice was beautiful.

    I could see my boner tenting my jeans and sat back down at the computer seat. His profile picture was still on my screen, pouting at me through the dark hair.

    "Oh, I'm just... busy with some work tonight... for uni tomorrow," I lied.

    "Ah, I see, that's too bad. From what I hear you're a lot of fun with some alcohol in you. Believe me, so am I..." I thought I could hear him winking through the phone. My hardon was unbearable.

    "Haha..." There was a silence. My laugh sounded unconvincing. What can you even say to that? And a now-painful erection is hardly conducive to thinking on one's feet!

    Adam was the first to speak: "Well, it was nice to talk to you - I'll let you get on with your work. Goodbye!"

    He hung up.

    Five minutes later, I had his voice in my mind as I lay slouched in my computer chair - my t-shirt pulled up to my chest; my jeans at my knees; my stomach sprayed with cum; my dick refusing to go soft completely soft even after a hard shoot - repeating: "From what I hear... You're a lot of fun... With some alcohol in you... Believe me... So am I..."

    I swear, as those words repeated, the profile picture looked like it was winking - winking at me.
     
  2. Gillette

    Gold Member

    Joined:
    Apr 2, 2006
    Messages:
    8,308
    Albums:
    1
    Likes Received:
    22
    Gender:
    Female
    Location:
    Halifax (NS, CA)
    This is your first post?

    Great start!
     
  3. Aeshm

    Aeshm New Member

    Joined:
    Jul 30, 2006
    Messages:
    78
    Likes Received:
    0
    This seems like the beginning of a really sweet story, I'm actually genuinely interested in the continuation ;o
     
  4. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Too Good To Be True, Part 2:

    A week later, one of my friends had requested I made a blown-up, full-size version of one of my paintings so they could give it as a Christmas gift. I had about three weeks to start and finish the piece, so I bought a few ready made canvases from an art store in the city - but I had an ulterior motive for being in that part of town...

    I had spent the last seven days staring at pictures of Adam - slyly asking Robert to send me more photographs of him; each one inexplicably hotter than the last. No nudes, just pictures of his face; his pecs under tight t-shirts at best. They worked better than any porn. I'm never one to admit my best friend is right - sibling rivalry combined with the need never to give him the satisfaction of saying "I told you so" - but in this case, with Adam, he was right: I needed to meet him, and the need was getting worse every day.

    I timed it perfectly - I had my big, unweildy canvases under one arm and my phone on the other.

    "Oh, sure, I can meet you," Robert said, somewhat confused that I'd call him at that time, "I'm just leaving class just now. Where are you?"

    "I'll be at George Square in five minutes," - I was already there, waiting, nervous.

    "Okay, cool, I'll meet you there in five," Robert said as he hung up. It took me a minute to register what he had said - I wasn't so much listening to his voice as for some foreign element in the background noise.

    Instead of waiting, the butterflies in my stomach made me stand up. I knew Robert's route from class to George Square, so I backtracked to meet him en route.

    I crossed the road, hardly paying attention to the cars passing just a little too close. It was winter, but there was no snow and the sun was bright, shining off the tops of passing vehicles. I saw Robert's 6'4 figure with two others, one on either side of him: one a tall skinny guy, about 6'2; the other I recognised instantly - Adam. I waved to Robert with my free arm, but stared at the 6'0, beautiful boy next to him instead. His broad shoulders and confident gait made him look slightly shorter, somehow more accessible; the winter sun turning his hair noticably blonde. His skin was a shade darker than in the pictures I had seen too. Then I saw his eyes. They cut right through me as we got closer - turns out they weren't photoshopped after all.

    "Hi," I said to Robert, addressing all three guys when we met, "I'm Davie."

    "Oh hi! Nice to meet you in the flesh!" Adam burst out with, straight away. He gave a low giggle, like he had made a smutty joke only he had understood.

    He held out his big hand and I put my canvases on the ground quickly - way past caring about damaging them by now - and we shook. As soon as my hand was in his, I knew instantly it was serious. This was love at first sight, and he wasn't helping by smiling at me with those lazy slavic eyes.

    I picked up my canvases again, and we walked towards George Square. I don't remember anything we said to each other; all I remember is Adam and I spoke and Robert and the other guy may as well have been elsewhere. We were in our own bubble - or at least I was.

    "I'm going to head home now. You guys go have a drink or something, but I'm done for the day," Adam said, bursting the bubble, "Was nice to meet you, Davie," physically winking at me this time, then he was gone - before we even reached George Square. I thanked my nervous butterflies for making me move...

    I took the subway home with Robert. I didn't mention Adam again, but my internal monologue was screaming his name under every question; every word I spoke was just to try to appear calm: there was no way I was going to admit my best friend was right!

    Okay... build up pretty much over for now - Part 3 is when it starts getting good!! Let me know if you're enjoying it or if I need to sex it up a little more in future.
     
  5. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Too Good To Be True, Part 3:

    It was late into the night when Robert called; I was already pretty drunk.

    "Hey man, how's the big night out going?" he asked.

    "It's sooo good, honestly! Everyone from class showed up, and we're celebrating the end of school in proper style - we've been out for like 5 hours! We're in Fire And Ice just now. What are you doing?"

    "Coming to meet you! I'm with Angela... and Adam..."

    I looked around the table at the smiling faces of my classmates in the trendy bar, the empty beer pitchers and nearly empty glasses. Everyone was in a great mood, ready for Christmas holidays. I was ecstatic - happy to be among good friends and the beer had killed all potential nerves about Adam coming. I knew rationally the fear should have been twofold: what if I screw it up tonight or he rejects me; and since my uni friends had no idea I was gay, it could turn awkward if we hit it off. At that point in time, with so much beer in my system, I didn't care. The group was getting ready to move to the next pub.

    "I'll meet you guys outside," I said and hung up the phone. I downed the last of my beer; my head swimming in the still-persistant memory of my first conversation with Adam: "From what I hear you're a lot of fun with some alcohol in you. Believe me, so am I..."

    Within ten minutes, my friends had left for Eduardo's, an all-night eaterie, and I was waiting under the neon sign of Fire and Ice. I saw Robert and Angela first, coming from my right - behind them in a black leather jacket with his hair pushed high off his forehead: Adam.

    When we went up the staircase to Eduardo's, I introduced my three friends to my uni mates, and we all sat in different company. Angela and Chris seemed to hit it off pretty quickly, and Robert chatted with Max about some band I had never heard of. Adam disappeared to the bathroom after his introduction, and two of the girls were quite impressed by his looks and undeniable charm. Hayley asked me: "so where prescisely did you find Foreign Cock...??"

    I didn't know he had come back to the group until I felt his powerful hand on my shoulder. I looked up quickly and smiled, reduced to automatic movements. He held two cigarettes in his free hand and said: "Would you like to come for a smoke?"

    His bulge was huge, right at my face. All his bulges were huge - under the white t-shirt, I could make out not only his pecs, but his stomach muscles too. I had never really been attracted to guys like him before, but everything about him just suggested sex.

    I was two steps above him at the bottom of the stairs, a head above his 6'0 frame. Next thing I knew, and he was flicking his lighter - then leaning forward to light my cigarette directly from the tip of his. We were like a cheap Lady and the Tramp, under the sign of the late night café. I would have found it funny, had his cold blue eyes not been so intense; had his lips not lingered towards my mouth just a little too long. I was more than a little aware of my hardening dick - and I swear he was too. We didn't say anything during the first few drags, but I swear I could sense him stealing glances at my crotch - serving only to bolster my erection.

    "So I guess you must know Martin?" Adam asked. I had known Martin since high school. We had been friends, but he had hooked up with Adam's predecessor - my unrequited first love. There's a reason they call it the Friends Rule: I still hadn't forgiven Martin six months later.

    "Yeah, mm, I've known him for a few years. We had a few classes together..." I said. Adam burst out laughing.

    "You sound really positive! I punched him in the face first time we met."

    "WHAT!?" I was shocked - Martin really wasn't the fighting type. Adam took a slow drag of his Lucky Strike.

    "Yeah, it was an accident," he said coolly, "I was reaching for my drink and his face got in the way. Besides, he bugged me - no personality. You guys are like opposites - no wonder you don't get along..."

    Back upstairs, I had a big stupid grin on my face. Hayley seemed to have picked up on it, letting out a sarcastic "oh my God" along with a reproachful look on her face.

    The food was finished. Max said to me: "We're going to our last destination of the night - Titty Glitter. Rob and Angela are heading to Cirque. What about you?"

    My first response wasn't to answer, but to look at Adam. He didn't give an answer to my look, exactly; just a nod towards Robert.

    "Nah, Max, I'm going to hang out with these guys for the rest of the night. Have an extra dance for me!"

    I thought all my worries had evaporated - noone seemed to have picked up on the fact I was trying to pick up a guy. No awkward questions after Christmas... until Hayley came up to me on leaving: "Good luck with Czech-boy..."
     
  6. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Gillette and Aeshm: Glad you're enjoying the story so far - hope it's not going too slow. Let me know how if you like parts 2 and 3!
     
  7. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Too Good To Be True, Part 4:

    We were pretty much alone in the club: Angela and Robert went off on their own and the strangers on the dance floor seemed to melt away when Adam was dancing with me. He kept subtly brushing his hand over my ass from time to time; sometimes grinding against me. I was, at this stage in my life, still pretty uncomfortable with my sexuality - I wouldn't go into a gay bar, maybe for fear of being noticed; of denial; of a feeling that the stereotypical lifestyle didn't suit me - but here I was, in a straight dance club, being felt up by another guy, and I didn't care what anyone thought.

    "What are you doing tonight?" He asked me over the music.

    "Going home, I suppose." I answered.

    "Well, why don't you come to my place instead?" He gave me a devilish smile - we knew there was no way I would refuse.

    We stayed in the club for an hour or so, propping up the bar drinking vodka tonics in a discussion about the influence of Dostoevsky on Bukowski. I had never before met anyone who knew both writers. I was impressed. Angela came up to us: "We're going back to the flat... I assume you're not coming, Davie?"

    It should have been embarassing - Adam was in earshot - but neither of them seemed shocked by the implication. I just went with it.

    "Nah, we're going to hang out for a little. I'll see you and Robert later."

    Once she had left, Adam suggested: "How about we head off too?" and zipped up his jacket.

    We went straight to his bedroom. It wasn't too dark, and he never turned on the light. Instead, he lit a few tealights and an incense stick while I sat on the bed. There were a few interesting objects around the room - a gas mask on the wall peered down at me; there was a china tea set over by his laptop. He caught me staring back at the gas mask and said: "You just never know when you might need it... There's some more vodka here too, by the way" and handed me the bottle.

    I took a swig from the bottle and handed it to him. He took one of the china cups, little finger pointed straight out, and said: "See? You just never know when you might need a certain thing!"

    He led me outside to have another cigarette after picking up his iPod. It had been snowing a little and it was cold. After we had lit up, he handed me an earpiece, and took the other for himself, saying: "This is a Czech Christmas carol, by a choir I used to be part of. I'm singing somewhere in this recording."

    We stood close, in order to use the single set of headphones. With every stanza, he translated the lyrics for me into English between cigarette drags. It started to snow again very lightly. I moved closer to him, while he spoke, and my lips got closer to him, my eyes closed; the choir still singing for us as we shared our first kiss. My whole body was against his. I could feel his heat. His tongue danced over mine in time with the pulse of the choir; our lips closed over the others' in unison. he had one arm around me, his left big hand running up and down my spine, the other holding the music player. I slipped my hands around his tight waist, feeling the muscles of his sides under his shirt. He bit my bottom lip twice, as I moved my hands slowly up and down his frame.

    He pulled away from me and walked ahead of me indoors. "That's just a preview of the rest of the night..."

    We got back upstairs and I sat down on the bed. He took a swig of vodka straight from the bottle, and asked: "How would you like a back massage? I have to give them at work, you see, so I know what I'm doing."

    "Sure..." I said. I was a little apprehensive, since I had never experienced a massage before, "What do I have to do?"

    "Don't worry. Just take off your shirt - and your jeans if you like - and lay face down on my bed." I decided to take off both items. Adam started doing the same.

    He was stripped down to a pair of obscenely tight baby blue boxer-briefs. I could see the outline of a really thick penis, pointing perfectly downward; his big package rounded off by a pair of really heavy, fat balls. I wondered if they were aching the way mine were.

    I looked up briefly at his hairless torso - at his well-toned stomach, those big, round pecs. He quickly turned around to pick something up and I saw his ass in those tight boxers. He had the most perfect, muscular ass I had ever seen. My dick was screaming - pressed against the bed instead of pressed up against his ass - screaming for mercy; for release.

    Adam turned around again, walked back to the bed, and straddled me. His ass was touching my ass as he poured oils onto his hands, saying: "Now if it gets too rough, just tell me, ok? I know my hands are a little strong if you're not used to it."

    He wasn't lying. He was going so hard at my back, I was experiencing real pain in my muscles. I couldn't help myself, but with every pressure from his hands, I was letting out a moan, getting louder and louder. He moved down my back, all along the spine; with me letting out pleasure moans all the way to my lower back. When he got to the waistband of my boxers, he hooked a finger round them and pulled them up, asking, "do you mind if I finish the job?"

    I could barely answer, mumbling something in the affirmative as I arched my ass off the bed to let him remove my boxers. He pulled them to my knees, and I rolled over a little to take them off the rest of the way. My dick was pointing straight at him and he grabbed it with the same violence his hands had applied to my back. "When did this happen?!"

    "It's been raging for you all night... on the dancefloor... all night..."

    He gave me the devil-grin once more and within seconds he had my entire penis in his mouth, top to base; bobbing up and down with my glans in his throat. "Fuck..." was, right about then, the height of articulation.

    I lay back, and he moved up towards me pushing his muscular build down on my slim frame, slipping his boxers off. His penis was as hard as mine, but bigger. He had a big pink head at the end of a beautiful, veined shaft, that increased in girth a little from bottom to top. I reached down... Jesus, he was stiff for me.

    he straddled me again, across the chest, and I guided his dick into my mouth with my right hand. He thrusted a few times into my mouth, before going to work on my dick with his left hand. I sucked him with my eyes wide open, trying to balance oral excellence for him with the visual feast for myself: his torso twisted round like a ballet dancer; his six pack abs lit by the candles like a centrefold. I was in heaven.

    We sat up together, moved into twin lotus flower positions, with my feet touching his ass, his feet touching mine. We kissed slowly, like outside in the snow, but this time completely naked; with our dicks touching each other. I held his cock against mine and massaged them together while we kissed, rubbing his heavy pre-cum over both our erections.

    "Shall I put on a condom," he asked in a hushed tone.

    I wasn't very experienced - I had only received anal sex once before, from a much smaller guy, and had hated it. I think he picked up on my apprehension: "Don't worry, we'll take it slow."

    He reached into a drawer, pulled out a packet of condoms and a bottle of lube. He put on the condom first, and lubed up one of his fingers. I lay down on the bed like he instructed and he started massaging my hole. "Relax... relax... it's only Ady... relax..."

    I felt his index finger slip inside. He did it slowly, wanking himself off with his left hand as he swirled his index finger inside my hole. My dick was quivering, and I had to reach for it: the lust I felt was unbearable. He lubed up a second finger. It went in easier than the first, but it was far more painful. Then as he pulled out his finger and moved on top of me, he lubed up his hard cock.

    He held my hands down above my head and I squeezed them as he tried to squeeze his huge girth between my legs. My brain kept repeating, absurdly in his voice: "Relax... it's only Adam..." and it somehow fit inside.

    The pain was too much for me, and he knew. He rocked back and forward a few times, but tried not to hurt me too much. He lifted both my legs up and put a pillow under my lower back, then tried again, holding my ankles with his big hands: his fingers were able to touch his thumb.

    He rocked in and out, a little more violently, and I was letting out moans - more of pain than of pleasure. "Does it burn?" he asked.

    I nodded, "I'm sorry... I'm just not very experienced..."

    He grabbed the lube bottle again and soaked my hole. He put both index and middle fingers into my ass, this time with ease - still holding up one of my legs by the ankle.

    He inserted again. It felt a little easier, but he was simply too big for me to properly enjoy it. My whole body was quivering; an involuntary response to either the cold of the night from the open window or some side effect of overbearing lust. "I'm sorry..." I said again.

    "I have an idea," he said, rolling onto his back. I straddled him over the top, and he guided his dick up my ass again, taking advantage of his position by playing with my hard dick. It felt much easier from this position. I was rocking away on him, desperate to take it all in and make him cum.

    After a few minutes in this position, my face perspiring and red from exertion and embarassment, he stopped me and pulled out. "I don't think I'm going to cum tonight." He pushed himself up, kissed me again on the lips, and pulled out. He took off the condom, and we lay down facing each other on our sides. He pulled out a couple of cigarettes for us and we talked again for a little while, about his life; about mine. The last thing I remember was an answer to one of my questions: "The gas mask? I have no idea where I picked that thing up..."
     
  8. Gillette

    Gold Member

    Joined:
    Apr 2, 2006
    Messages:
    8,308
    Albums:
    1
    Likes Received:
    22
    Gender:
    Female
    Location:
    Halifax (NS, CA)
    Mmmm, hot.

    I've been there. Well expressed.

    You're doing an excellent job, Flaneur. I'm really enjoying the way you're letting the story unfold.
     
  9. crescendo69

    Gold Member

    Joined:
    Aug 27, 2006
    Messages:
    8,138
    Likes Received:
    22
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Knoxville, TN
    Thank you for such an excellent contribution to our gay fiction. I eagerly await more..
     
  10. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Too Good To Be True, Part 5:

    I woke up naturally the next morning, smiling. No alarms had gone off, but the low brightness of the sun coming in the window suggested it was very early. I must have slept only four hours or so.

    Adam was still asleep - undisturbed by my head under his outstretched right arm, with a calmness on his face that gave no hint of what he showed he was capable of lastnight; no sign of the devil-grin. His body was tanned; dark against the white sheets of that winter morning; somehow more muscular than it had appeared lastnight in the golden glow of candlelit darkness. I asked no questions, performed no analysis on what had happened lastnight - I just enjoyed the stillness and the naive belief it would always be like this.

    Adam's wake up was with much more of a start. His head jerked up quickly with the sudden stab of noise from his alarm clock. He leaned over and slapped it silent, taking care not to disturb my head incase I had slept through the alarm's violating scream.

    He rolled into me and kissed me on the forehead. My hand moved up to his hip, and round to his ass, pulling him towards me. We were both completely naked and both completely hard. We kissed on the lips softly, gently - no tongues for the obvious reason. We were rubbing against each other's genitals - dry humping, I suppose - just enjoying the friction and the closeness of the other's body.

    I repositioned myself: my head resting on his muscled stomach, his dick in my mouth. I sucked on his hard dick, bobbing in and out across his abdomen; feeling the ridges of his abs against my left ear.

    "Give me your dick," Adam said. He had been trying to grab at my cock while I blew him. I repositioned again: my mouth never leaving the tip of his glans as I turned round into a sixty-nine position.

    The feeling of being blown by someone so eager, so talented, while working his own huge, beautiful penis with my lips, my tongue... I closed my eyes, grabbing his ass sharply every time he grazed my exposed glans with his tongue. I was humping into his mouth, but didn't realise until he started doing the same to me.

    "Go... go..." my internal monologue told him, psychically. I felt like we needed no words; he seemed to understand my every need through a transcendant form of communication, and I his; at the same time I was stoically trying not to gag on his fat penis - too big to fit all the way into my mouth - which somehow made me want him more.

    The alarm screamed again; once more violating the serenity of the moment. Adam stopped sucking.

    "It's officially 7:45. Bastards. I have to go into work," and he was out of the bed.

    I watched his ass in the morning sunlight - just pure muscle. His hips weren't slim and boyish like mine; rather the fully formed thighs of an athlete. He had very little hair on his legs, and I noticed the tan he had built up since whenever the pictures of him online were taken - to which I had spent the previous two weeks masturbating - was all over. He had no tan lines whatsoever, just a perfect, browned, hairless ass.

    "The Christmas period is so demanding, I swear. I have to make £50,000 in sales by the end of this week," he said, putting on a white dressing gown.

    "Give a couple of customers massages like you did lastnight and you'll make it easily," I said back.

    There was a second between the words coming out and the joke hitting home, then he chuckled low and smiled. "Come on," he said, "we're going for a shower".

    I had never showered with anyone before that morning - never had the opportunity; never had anyone I'd want to shower with. This was different. Right then, everything felt different. Under the shower head, he lathered my hair in shampoo, then his own. My dick was painfully erect, rubbing against his leg, and he massaged the shaft a few times with his soapy hands, laughing. We rinsed off and he dried my hair roughly first, then his own.

    We took the five minute bus journey into town, and I walked with him to the shop he worked.

    "I'm going back to the Czech Republic in two days, going back home to see my mummy and my sisters. Really looking forward to some pampering. Ask Rob for my number when you see him," he said on parting, punctuating it with a quick kiss on the cheek.

    I went to the book shop on the same street. I had a purchase in mind, but had to go to the bathroom first - something didn't feel right. I sat on the toilet for a second, my insides were in pain - but that just felt like a prize. I was proud to be feeling pain, remembering his whispers the night before "It's only Ady..." and the sweet submission I felt while he was inside me saying "You're a brave boy... a brave boy..."

    I looked at my penis - it felt unbearably sensitive. It wasn't hard, but the foreskin was pulled right down over the head. Before Adam got his hands on it, my foreskin would never retract over the head.

    I smiled to myself a few minutes later at the check out counter. The book I was holding was a favourite of mine - Bukowski's The Most Beautiful Woman in Town. I didn't own my own copy, but I wanted to buy something special: this was to be the Christmas present for the guy who broke me in - in more ways than one.
     
  11. baldrick05

    baldrick05 New Member

    Joined:
    May 6, 2009
    Messages:
    14
    Likes Received:
    0
    Wonderfully well written.
     
  12. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Gillette, Crescendo, Baldrick: Very flattered by your comments and utterly ecstatic you're enjoying the story so far. Got quite a bit more to go, but very pleased I can serialise the story and keep track of everyone's opinions! I'll write up the next part tomorrow. Much love!
     
  13. hornygeordie

    Verified Gold Member

    Joined:
    Jun 13, 2007
    Messages:
    110
    Albums:
    2
    Likes Received:
    39
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Newcastle upon Tyne (GB)
    Verified:
    Photo
    very good
     
  14. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Too Good To Be True, Part 6:

    It was December 24th, 2007. I had cloistered myself away for nearly a week since I saw Adam, in the knowledge he had gone to the Czech Republic and the need to finish my commissioned painting.

    The canvas was large, but the work wasn't a chore: I sat in my room, listening to old records; for the first time really understanding what Joni Mitchell meant when she sang:

    I am a lonely painter,
    I live in a box of paints.
    I'm frightened by the devil,
    And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid.
    I remember that time that you told me, you said:
    'Love is touching souls,'
    Surely you touched mine;
    Cause part of you pours out of me,
    In these lines from time to time.


    Every brushstroke seemed to come from him. I had abandoned my realistic colour scheme after that night and painted over every dull colour with a more vivid, lively shade. Even running my hand across the top of the canvas frame - where there was a little dent - I smiled at the memory of dropping this canvas onto the pavement in the haste to reciprocate Adam's handshake. I had signed my name on the bottom, let the painting dry and wrapped it up inside a black binbag so the sleet didn't damage my work during delivery across town.

    Angela opened the door for me. She was back in the city to see her parents for Christmas during the break from uni. We had been at the same schools, but only became close friends after she graduated high school and had blossomed into a real beauty with long dark hair and sapphire blue eyes; intellectual, confident and unashamedly lesbian. I often wished, retrospectively, I had spoken to her more often in school: now we were each others closest confidants.

    Over the past few months, after my messy rejection by my first love, Angela's parents, Stewart and Carol, had been there for me. Not only did they give me tough love and allowed me a space to be truly open and honest, but tried to help me to accept what I knew, deep down, was true: that I was gay; that I would only experience real feelings for men; that I didn't have to follow a stereotype; and that I shouldn't be ashamed. I had become friends with her parents and saw them regularly. They had commissioned my painting for a family friend.

    As always in this house, there was a pot of tea waiting on the stove and the log fire was burning. Carol cornered me in the kitchen with a big smile before I had a chance to sit down, saying: "Let me see!!"

    I took off its plastic cover and she took a step back to take a look. "I love it, and so will Lesley," she said, slipping me £60. We had agreed on £20 - mostly to cover the cost of materials. She gave me a quick wink and I smiled back appreciatively.

    The three of us sat down in front of the fire with a cup of tea each. "You know, Carol," I said, "I think you and Stewart were right all along!"

    She laughed, "You and your Eastern European! Bert told me all about it last week! So it's serious? Are you seeing him properly now?"

    "Well... Not yet. I hope so. We've agreed to see each other again, but he's gone back home. I haven't heard from him," I said. Angela had a strange look on her face.

    "And when is he back?" Carol asked.

    "I'm not sure... He didn't say."

    "Davie..." Angela piped in, "Have you spoken to Bert...?"

    "I spoke to him just yesterday... Why?"

    "Just wondered..." She replied.

    * * * * *

    Angela had a grave look on her face as I sat down across from her with my cappuccino in "our" booth in "our" coffee shop. After the relaxing family Christmas she had enjoyed three days earlier, I was surprised by her expression.

    "I spoke to Bert lastnight to check my facts," she said, "I'm really sorry to be the one to tell you this. I could kill him."

    I furrowed my brow, confused. She continued, without letting the shock linger any more than it needed to, "It's Adam... He's dating someone."

    I accepted the information viscerally rather than rationally. I didn't answer; rather I couldn't answer due to the sudden bolt of shock shooting up from my stomach.

    "Are you okay?" She asked, her voice in a tone of deep, genuine sympathy. She moved her hands across the table onto mine, saying: "Robert told me a few days ago: he got a text from Adam the day before he flew home, saying he had a new boyfriend."

    My brain flew off in two parallel directions: either he was with someone and he used me to cheat on this guy; or the new boyfriend was me. Both suggestions were shot down before either built up into destructive self-deceit.

    "I can't believe he didn't tell you this... I'm so sorry," She was saying. I could hardly hear her, "Apparently one of his friends from work set him up..."

    * * * * *

    It was a double blow for me. Not only had my best friend kept this information a secret from me; but when I got the full story from Robert, it turned out Adam must had got with this guy two days after I had slept with him. Even after allowing him such intimacy, feeling such a spark, being a "brave boy" for him; he had welcomed someone new onto my chartered seat. I was devastated. I felt like I couldn't trust my best friend anymore. How could he be so stupid with such important information? After he told me on the phone: "I just didn't want to upset you," - like ignoring the facts would make them no longer relevant to reality - I felt too betrayed to see him for over a week. Luckily I had Angela on hand for company and support.

    We were on the subway seven days later, headed to the art gallery. I wanted to see the Glasgow Boys paintings; Angela was interested in the metalworks by Margaret MacDonald Mackintosh. Two stops before our own, I saw a familiar figure by the doorway. My stomach dropped to the tracks below us and rattled off every sleeper. It was Adam.

    Angela noticed at prescisely the same minute with a sharp intake of breath. I couldn't look at him. I kept my head turned towards her until our stop; talking in whispers. What I didn't anticipate was him getting off at our stop.

    "Hello!" He shouted as he walked towards us, so briskly; wearing a beanie hat and that famous black leather jacket, zipped up to evade the January cold. I felt like my body had stopped existing. "And where are you two off to today?" He was as sunny as I had been before Angela had broken that shattering news.

    "We're going to the gallery... Adam," I managed to say.

    "Oh what luck!" he smiled, "I'm headed there too."

    I hardly spoke. Angela asked all the questions for me; went through the holiday pleasantries. I soaked in every detail silently, desperate to find out more about his life, even if in just little snippets. The ease with which we spoke just weeks ago seemed to be gone. However, seeing him again, even with this new awkward tension between us, just made me realise I was hopelessly in love.

    Angela, never one to shirk from the issue at hand, brought into conversation the issue on all our minds: "So I hear you're with someone new?"

    Adam smiled at me, awkwardly, apologetically, saying: "Yes... It's early days... A friend of a friend..."

    It turned out Adam wanted to see the basement-floor exhibition of Kylie Minogue's stage clothes. We wandered around, following him as he compared himself in height to the waxwork models. Even in such a setting, entirely irrelevant to my interests, Adam seemed fascinating. Then his phone rang. He disappeared on Angela and I, leaving us to wait in this pointless exhibition.

    "Thanks for asking the awkward question. I couldn't have done it," I said.

    "I know... but I think it was right to set the record straight."

    Adam met us five long minutes later amid the bodies of wax and sequins, with that smile on his face again. "That was him," he said, "I have to dash for a date!"

    That word coming out of his mouth in reference to someone else was surreal. I was drowning in a sea of tiny, sparkly dresses in order to see him - yet someone else has him on his beck and call. He reached over to Angela, engulfing her Minogue-like frame under his broad shoulders; holding her head against his pecs in a hugely overdramatic show of affection. Her head was turned towards me and her eyes bulged in shock as he said loudly: "So good to see you again, my darling, have a wonderful day!"

    The bear-hug lasted a beat or so too long before he let go, turning to me, saying: "Nice to see you again," without enthusiasm. He shook my hand briefly, without the powerful grip or eye contact like before and walked up the stairs to the entrance alone.
     
  15. wonder_boy

    wonder_boy Member

    Joined:
    Nov 13, 2009
    Messages:
    79
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Newfoundland and Labrador (CA)
    Great story so far. Do you plan on continuing?
     
  16. Aeshm

    Aeshm New Member

    Joined:
    Jul 30, 2006
    Messages:
    78
    Likes Received:
    0
    I hope there'll be other parts, you're a great writer ;o
     
  17. GhostofSparta

    GhostofSparta New Member

    Joined:
    Apr 23, 2007
    Messages:
    15
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Dayton (OH, US)
    Besides the fact that this story is excellent, cheers on using "beck and call" correctly and not writing "beckon call"! That mistake drives me crazy. Like when people say "irregardless".

    Keep it up! I'm so intrigued as to what happens next.
     
  18. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Ghostofsparta - I am totally on your side with this one. I'm really pedantic with mistakes (including the few I've noticed in my own damn story after publishing it here!!). Nothing turns me off like a misused there/their/they're!

    Thanks for the support guys, glad you're enjoying it so far - and yes, the story will continue. There is some goooood stuff coming up...
     
  19. cooley69

    Verified Gold Member

    Joined:
    Jul 17, 2009
    Messages:
    95
    Albums:
    2
    Likes Received:
    21
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    York (PA, US)
    Verified:
    Photo
    Flaneur, I just started reading this story today and became intrigued right away. You're a great writer man. Love it.
    On a side note: I also like proper word usage in stories I read but nothing irritates me more than when I'm reading a good story and the writer may make a few grammatical errors and someone jumps on his back about it. He gets pissed or feels unappreciated and quits writing. I think the story titled " Drew and I in the Dorm" is an example of this. The author may have made some mistakes with his grammar but it is a great story and now he has quit writing thanks to some bonehead.

    Anyway, I do appreciate your efforts and keep up the good work.
     
  20. flaneur

    flaneur Member

    Joined:
    Jun 26, 2010
    Messages:
    36
    Likes Received:
    0
    Gender:
    Male
    Too Good To Be True, Part 7:

    I let myself into Adam's flat. He had only moved into his new place a week ago, but he had given me the address and told me to "just come in". I had to wait ten minutes or so for someone else to use the front door and sneak my way in, as Adam wasn't picking up his phone when I called him to buzz me in. He had, however, left his apartment door unlocked for me.

    I walked into the strange hallway and peeked into the first door on the right.

    "Oh hey, it's you!" Adam was standing on a chair, putting up a set of curtains completely out of sync with the rest of the room's decoration, "Come and give me a hand."

    It was clear he was out of his mind on pot or something - I was by now completely used to seeing Adam on soft drugs - and harder ones too. He steadied himself on the chair and his eyes lit up at the sight of what I had in my hands.

    "Here!" I said, "a little something to help you settle into your new place."

    I handed him the bottle of Moët and the book. He read the inscription out loud: "Merry Xmas 2007 - from one fan of the "Dirty Old Man" to another"

    He looked up at me, puzzled, and said: "You know it's 2009, right? The end of March? Haha!"

    "Yeah..." I said, "been meaning to give it to you for a while..."

    I really had. I kept that book all through the annus horribilis that 2008 turned out to be; and wrote that inscription as painfully neutral as I possibly could not to cause offence - but we'll save the gory details for a later episode.

    "It's Bukowski's best set of short stories," I tossed to him as he flicked through the book. He tossed the volume onto his bedside cabinet and put the champagne in his fridge to cool.

    By the time it had cooled, I had helped Adam put up his ugly curtains and carry a bureau home about three blocks he had found in a skip on the street. He had climbed in, fishing for goodies; and even in that less-than-sanitary setting, he just seemed to ooze sex. His jeans were slung really low, showing off his beautiful ass. The past year hadn't been too easy on Adam's figure - I heard first through Robert that Adam was complaining about "growing boobs". The first time I saw him after the art gallery, although he was being very melodramatic with the manboobs assessment, I have to be honest - I was shocked at how much weight he had put on.

    He was in no way fat: still obviously very muscular, but with a little puppy-paunch over what was once very defined muscle. He had also cut his hair short - originally shaving it clean, now growing it out again. But those jeans... they just hung there on the peak of his perfect ass - sometimes with a little hint of his lower back peeking out of his t-shirt as it rode up while he climbed into the trash.

    We were both sweating after lifting the heavy bureau up two flights of stairs - but we had managed it, and that called for celebration. I didn't question why I had gone to the extremes of physical exertion for him... I knew the reason...

    I sat at the kitchen table, with the radio still playing BBC Radio 4 and Adam pulled out two whiskey glasses for the champagne. Just as he was sitting down, he took out a packet of tobacco, rolling papers and a half-empty plastic baggie.

    We had smoked two joints and moved to the living room by the time we got to the bottom of the champagne bottle. "I hope you like Fischerspooner" he said, putting on "A Kick in the Teeth". He poured each of us out a nice full glass and said: "A toast!"

    He reached back into his pocket, this time producing a much smaller bag. He handed me one small white pill and took one for himself. We each swallowed them down with a gulp of the wine.

    We didn't stay on the couch much longer - we talked each other into going out, taking a taxi downtown to the biggest gay bar the city had to offer. We had a few more drinks and danced together for a while - but most of the first hour seemed to be Adam speaking to other guys while I pretended to be interested in the conversation. I was jealous, I admit it - but at a level I was able to suppress.

    The first time we spoke alone, Adam said to me: "I have an idea for tonight... How about we take a boy home? You up for it?"

    Of course I was up for it!! But I am chivalrous, even through my jealousy. "Sure," I said, "but if you want to fuck someone, I can sleep on your couch, I don't mind."

    He looked at me with so much intensity I shuddered. After a pause, he said: "Whatever happens tonight, you're sleeping with me in my bed."

    Before Adam I had no idea simple words could induce a full boner. He was like an actor. He was Warren Beatty, wrapping the whole room around his finger, with me wrapped so tight I had no option but to say yes.

    Now who in their right mind would go home with two admittedly attractive but drugged-out boys? Maybe it would rate high on an LPSG forum - especially since we were 21 and 22 - but in practice, it's difficult to even communicate with someone else horned to the max and high on ecstacy... Unless you are too.

    So at 3am, we stumbled through Adam's apartment door, all three of us. Adam, leading the way to his bedroom; me barely clinging to his arm; and Chris, the boy we had just met twenty minutes earlier. We sat around his computer. Adam showed us the Czech border with Germany on googlemaps to point out where he lived. I joined in by showing where I lived too - five miles from Adam's west-end flat.

    Adam and I essentially quizzed this boy. We weren't intentionally screening him, it just happened that way: finding out he was 19; asking what his name was; the usual; alternating between good cop and bad cop while Adam rolled another joint.

    He was in the bathroom straight after rolling the joint. Chris and I had a puff each, and Adam still wasn't back. Chris went to investigate. I sat and looked back at the city Adam had shown us, ingraining it on my memory.

    I had finished the joint by myself and knew Chris had, of course, passed the test. I walked over to the bathroom, second right down the hallway from Adam's room.

    "Dude..." I said, "What is it with you and bathrooms...?" Adam gave a wide grin, that devil grin that had been knocked out of him by the pressures of the last few months. His shirt was on the floor; Chris' shirt was on the floor. They were locked in a tight embrace, Adam standing a foot taller than this dark haired boy. Chris' body was beautiful - not hugely muscular, but very well toned. His arms weren't too scrawny and he had nice tight abs in a noticable six-pack. I felt a nice stir in my underwear, but I wasn't hard - even at this sybaritic sight.

    The boys resumed kissing and I moved in on their embrace. Chris removed my t-shirt, now throwing it hopelessly towards the toilet; now locking his lips onto mine in one swift, hazy movement.

    Adam pulled me towards him and kissed me hard, slipping his tongue into my mouth. His mouth was dry, but the kiss was incredible. I groped down towards his ass, while Chris tried for the other side - putting his hands down the front of Adam's boxers.

    "Let's move this into the bedroom, shall we?" Adam said to Chris and patted him on the butt. You could tell Chris was eager by the way he dashed off first. Adam held me back from doing the same, his strong hand on my shoulder.

    I turned round, and he looked instantly distraught. "Davie..." he said, "You have to fuck him..." My eyes widened, at the sudden realisation we both had the same ridiculous problem at the worst possible time: "I can't get hard!"

    We went back to the bedroom. A naked Chris instantly pulled Adam towards the bed as he tried to pull off his trousers. They stumbled together, and Chris landed on top of Adam on the bed - and went straight into Adam's boxers.

    I lay down next to them, watching Chris struggle with Adam's penis. It looked impressive, and Chris had the whole thing in his mouth - but Adam wasn't hard. I moved up, started kissing Adam to encourage him. Didn't seem to help, and our mouthes were dry. Adam pushed Chris off himself "I'm going to get some water."

    Chris then went straight to work on my flaccid cock. I could see he was only sailing at half mast, but he was huge - it was a good eight inches semi, flopped between his legs. He looked up at me while sucking - his pupils were huge.

    He had moved up on top of me - kissing my dry mouth; working each others dicks - when Adam came back with water for us. I took the glass and Chris started sucking him again. Little Adam was responding better now, but still not fully hard. I tried to put my lips between Chris' upturned asscheeks, but he kept batting me away every time my tongue touched the pink... guess he wasn't a bottom after all anyway.

    I changed tactics - licked my finger and tried to tease Adam's asshole with it, but he shot me a violent glare and I backed off.

    I tried again - pushed Chris off Adam's cock and onto his back. Adam came down with me, in unison, and we surrounded Chris' big dick with our mouths - alternating between taking turns sucking his cock; kissing each other; and licking the other's tongue across Chris' cock head. He was totally hard by this point - a respectable nine inches - just looking down at us, watching us kiss and suck. "Oh fuckkk... this is so hot... both you guys..." His head tipped back in ecstacy.

    Chris fell asleep soon afterwards, on Adam's bed. He hadn't cum and neither of us properly got hard. Adam and I stayed up all night in front of his laptop, just chilling out with a couple more joints. I remembered him as I first met him. He wasn't himself - not just the way he looked; but the way he acted, his whole demeanour.

    At sunrise, Adam threw me a pair of thick socks and one of his hoodies. He dressed similarly, and we put on underwear. We sat in the living room again, huddled against each other and the radiator; staring at the empty Moët bottle, with a cup each of Adam's specialty rooibos.

    "You have to get him out of here," Adam said, out of the silence.

    "Why me?" I asked.

    "Because he seems to be fond of you... and I hate confrontation."

    I went into the room and tried to shake Chris awake. He felt like a stone. He was cold like a stone too. I shook him a little more violently. Didn't seem to help. I went to grab Adam to help. His first move was to slap Chris hard across the face and said, "time to get up!". There was a firmness in his voice, and a haste to get the words out; the task over with.

    Chris croaked: "Awake."

    "Time to go home, it's 7.45 and I have work today. Need to get dressed and leave sharpish," Adam said and walked out of the room.

    "What about you?" Chris asked me, winking suggestively, "I have a place nearby on campus..."

    "I'm working too," I lied. I saw on his hands there were some scars. They looked self-inflicted.

    Adam came back with a white t-shirt in his hands. "Here," he said to Chris, "you can wear this." I hadn't noticed, but there was a serious amount of wet staining on this boy's clothes from alcohol - or something - spilled on it the night before.

    "See you, boys..." Chris said as Adam ushered him out the front door.

    We spoke in the kitchen for a little while, Adam and me. I didn't ask, but I knew he had lied about going to work that day too from his choice of breakfast - another joint around 9:30am. I took that as my cue to leave.

    I walked to the train station from Adam's new flat, wishing there was something I could do to cheer him up - to restore him to his fallen former glory - all the while listening to that same Fischerspooner song:

    "I'm, I'm looking for a pill,
    Something to ease my will,
    A kick in the teeth.
    "
     
Draft saved Draft deleted