My summer of sex with Cowboy

Chapter 35

Cowboy, Lee, and I leave the beach at five o'clock. Then, back at the apartment, the boys shower together and immediately leave to have dinner at Lee's house. They'll be sleeping here tonight, though. I seriously enjoy their company, and I'm so glad they're back, but I still turned down the invitation to join them for dinner. Lee's old man is a grump, and as much as I don't care for eating alone, that's what I'll be doing again tonight. 

Also, haha, Mr. Patrick gives the boys those super short haircuts every ten days or so, and I don't want to get mixed up in that craziness. Mr. Patrick is not one to take 'no' for an answer. Cowboy goes along with the haircut insanity because, to him, everything is a lark, and I suppose he's supporting Lee by not causing a fuss about it. Another reason I didn't want to get hung up at Patrick's having dinner is that I'm antsy about trying to hook up with Jon tonight. He has no idea I'm planning to do that, and I'm not sure he's even available tonight. This afternoon, looking at Lee ignited my horniness for Jon because they look alike, and their body types are similar. I still want to top, but not with Jon because he's feisty enough to have real dominant potential, and I'm missing gooey submissive trances and all the sexuality I get from that. It's been a while now since my last really good sub/dom fuck. Too long, actually.

Then, as I drink three Budweiser beers and smoke cigarettes on the balcony, I start vacillating between hunting up Jon tonight, waiting until tomorrow, or seeing him tonight and tomorrow afternoon. It's too much trouble hooking up with a date on the pussy boys' Atlantic City site, and there weren't any handsome guys available on that site anyway. The hit-and-miss chance of hooking up with a street pussy boy isn't very enticing after all the trouble I had trying to do that the other night. So, my best bet is Jon.

Before I do anything, I should eat something for dinner. It's seven o'clock, but what is there to eat? Hmm, looking in the freezer, I see three frozen Angelo's Chicken Parmigiana dinners. Oh, yeah, Bruce bought frozen dinners for a night we didn't feel like cooking. That would be every night, as far as I'm concerned. Fuck it, though; I microwave one of the frozen dinners. It's convenient and turns out to be tasty, too. Bruce knows about shit like this... my man!

After washing up and brushing my teeth, I go right to my car and drive to Jon's dumpy apartment. Second-guessing myself again, I park across the street and sit here looking at his apartment building, hoping he'll walk out the front door. Gee, Danny said he might visit this weekend, but it's Friday, and he hasn't texted, so maybe next weekend. He's a hottie, but what would I do with him tomorrow night when I'll be seeing Bruce?

Well, I don't need to worry about it since Danny's not gonna just show up here without first texting or calling.  And, dammit, Jon isn't going to walk out the door, so I work up the nerve to get out of the car and walk across the street. The lock on the apartment building's door is broken, so I go inside. Jon's front door is one apartment to the right. Taking a deep breath, I knock, and a second later, Peanut, with a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth, says, "What the fuck do you want?" 

He's another skinny motherfucker. He has a tiger tattoo on the side of his skinny neck, making the tiger look skinny, plus his breath smells like a marijuana fire sale with everything going up in smoke.

Rolling my eyes, I mutter, "Whaddaya think I want? Is Jon in?" 

I hear Jon from somewhere inside say, "Zach?" It reminds me of Bruce saying my name, sounding incredulous at the funhouse as if he couldn't believe it was me. I yell in past Peanut, "Yeah, it's me... do you wanna come out and play?" 

He comes to the door, pushing Peanut out of the way, telling me, "C'mon in." 

Peanut says, "You're not using our room, Jon. I've got company coming over any minute now." Jon goes, "Fuck you then." He looks around, then asks Benny, "Can I use your room, bro?" 

Benny mumbles, "Ask Corndog. Um, except he's sleeping in there, so he'll probably be pissed if you wake him up. Which one of you motherfuckers has weed?"

I nod at the door and mumble, "Come outside, Jon." 

I'm thinking, hell, we can use my place. Outside, sounding very much like he's talking to an underling, Jon asks me, "What is it now, Zach? I'm trying to hook us up with some 'effing place to fuck." 

"Hey, be cool, okay? Do you wanna earn some money?" 

He shrugs, I guess," and I go, "Good, I wanna pay you some money for another good fuck on my ass, but I don't want to stay here, so we can..." and he interrupts me, pointing at me, "What the fuck? You didn't do what I told you!" I'm like, "Whaddaya mean?" He says, "You didn't get a pussy boy haircut, and I emphatically told you to." 

Oh, for Christ's sake, I forgot all about that. I say, "Fuck that! C'mon to my place. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nobody will be there until later tonight." 

He says, "Listen, Zach, if you want me to service you, you've gotta do what you're told. You know that as well as I do! Bruce drilled that into your brain; I know he did." 

Omigod is off to delusion town again. I'm nodding, as if he's making any sense, then mumbling, "Yeah, uh-huh, right. Sorry." He pokes my chest with his little index finger, saying, "Okay for tonight, but Saturday morning, tomorrow morning, I want you at a barbershop." 

"Yeah, sure," and then notice he's barefoot. I mumble, "Do you want to put sandals or something on your feet?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," and he goes back inside. Some mentor... he didn't even know he was barefoot. When Jon goes inside, Benny comes to the door. He's still only wearing the jockey underwear he had on when I was here eight hours ago. He looks back in the room, then back at me, and says, "Hey, dude, I can fuck you up a helluva lot better than Scheyer can, and I'll only charge you fifty bucks." 

"Yeah? Well, why the fuck didn't you say so when I was here at noon?" 

He scratches his hairy chest, muttering, "I didn't think of it then, and I hadn't had breakfast yet." I shrug, mumbling, "Well, I already asked Jon to do it." 

He goes, "No shit, dickhead, I meant tomorrow." His breath smells like cereal.

There is no way in hell I'm getting fucked by this hairy fat motherfucker, but no need to be rude about it. He says, "So, how about it? Not too early in the day, though, 'cause I sleep late. I'm in between jobs at the moment, um, recovering from an accident." 

I nod at that bullshit, "Sorry to hear that. I shouldn't come in the morning, huh?" 

He nods, then says, "Yeah, like two or three o'clock, and you'll need to provide the condom. Um," he scratches his balls inside the jockey underwear and adds, "I guess what we'll do is, you give me the fifty bucks and, um, yeah, I'll fuck you up good in my bed. We can do it naked, or any fucking way you want." I nod again, then Jon pushes Benny out of the way and says to him, "Did you just proposition my 'effing John?" Benny makes a face, muttering, "No fucking way, dude. What kind of a guy do you think I am?"

Jon grabs the back of my neck, "Get moving, Zach." I take two steps, and he asks, "What'd you say your last name is?" I tell him, then say, "How about if you stop all that grabbing the back of my neck shit, okay?" He takes his hand away, muttering, "You don't know what the fuck you want. " 

Getting in the car, "Jon, can we agree that I'm not your recruit? I'm your, um, client, alright? I'm paying you, so lighten up" 

He mumbles, "Yeah, yeah, but dude, this is one badass car ya got here. I guess you do have lots of money. Listen, though, sure, you have the money, but I'd fuck you for free if you'd wise up and be my recruit. I'm just talking about a week or two so I can impress Eli. How about it?"

Driving away, I say, "We've been over this ten fucking times already. I don't want to do it!" 

He mutters, "Well, maybe I don't want to fuck you then." I say, "No, don't be like that. I meant, um, I'd be your recruit for a week or so, except Bruce would be very upset. He might even dump me, and you forget that Bruce and Eli are friends, so they'd know." 

He mutters, "You're right, I forgot about that; hmm, I'll think of something. If not for that, though, you would be my recruit, right?" Glancing at him, I can't help noticing the similarities to Lee. Hmm, Jon might be even smaller than Lee. Shorter, I mean... they're both equally thin, um, skinny. He asks again, "You'd be my recruit if there's a way to do it without Bruce hearing about it, right?" 

I'm psyched to get fucked tonight, so I go, "Sure, and you're my man tonight, Jon." 

He looks at me, saying, "No shit, I know I'm your man tonight. I'm talking about you getting on board and spending a week or ten days with me as your mentor. And I mean, as soon as I think of a way to sneak it by Bruce. Once Eli takes me back, you go on your way being Bruce's bag-boy or whatever" 

"Yeah, okay, but I'm in love with Bruce, not his bag-boy. You need to think up a foolproof way Bruce won't dump me." He can think until his head falls off, but there's no fucking way I doing any of that pussy boy shit anyway. 

Jon smiled, muttering, "Okay, good... that got settled easier than I expected. Heh-heh, no offense, but submissive guys such as yourself have a tough time saying 'no' to dominant types like me, and I knew you wouldn't be able to turn down the free three or four fucks a night. Sure, I'll be upfront. One or two of those sex acts will be with a dildo, but it'll still be me doing the thrusting. The way I'll do it with you is the way Eli did it with me. I'll let you suck my cock as I'm leaning over you fucking you with a good-sized dildo."

That makes me snort out a laugh and mumble, "Holy shit, Eli wasn't messing around, huh?" 

He says, "No, and I won't either, but I'll be more considerate. I promise you at least two fucks a night using my pecker. Then, the other one or two times with a dildo while you're sucking on my dick. How's that sound?" 

I laugh out loud again, a terrific hardy laugh, then say, "Totally insane. That's how it sounds, my friend." He shakes his head, "You'll see what you've been missing." I won't see shit because I'm not doing it, but for now, I'm horny, so Jon can daydream all he wants as long as he gives my ass a good hard fucking.

Inside my apartment building, walking up to the second floor, Jon says, "Ya know, Zach, your mentor Bruce fucked both of us up by dissing Richard on that video." Opening my apartment's door, I ask, "Whaddaya mean?" 

He says, "Richard was going to assign me to him. Assign me to Bruce to finish my training right after Bruce put you out on the street to do some whoring for him. I was three weeks away from getting back in the program, and then Bruce fucked everything up. You and I are presently out of the club, but I can get us back in." 

"I'm not looking to get back in." He says, "What if Richard let Bruce back in, too? Would you finish as my trainee if he was doing the training next to you?" I take a big breath and exhale noisily but say nothing because I'm tired of this conversation. Inside the apartment, Jon asks, "Would you?" 

I don't want to put him off too abruptly, so I mutter, "Um, I don't know, but I don't think Richard will ever forgive Bruce and me." Jon looks around, then goes, "Holy shit, this is a sweet pad!" Taking a bottle of Bud from the refrigerator, I hold it up. Jon says, "No, thanks. I don't drink beer." Neither does Lee, so that's another similarity. I've got to stop thinking of Lee in connection with Jon, though. They're two totally different individuals, except for their appearance.

Jon asks, "Do you have a seltzer in there? Some kind of sparkling water?" 

Frowning, I mutter, "Seltzer? Why would I have that?" 

"I don't know. Just give me a soda, and then get undressed." Normally, the bossiness would be a positive, or it used to be, anyhow. Now, though, after all his talk about me being a trainee, it's getting on my nerves. Handing him a Coke, I say, "I'll get undressed in a minute. For now, I'm going to have a cigarette and drink this beer on the balcony."

Popping the tab on the Coke can, he follows me out on the balcony, saying, "I can't help but notice that you're not playing the submissive role very well tonight." Leaning on the railing, I exhale a drag off my Marlboro cigarette, then say, "Yeah? Well, I'm not sure why that is, but you're right; I need to get in a proper frame of mind. And, as you've figured out, I like the submissive role during sex. So, maybe if you'd save your bossiness for our sex, I'd be less snippy." 

After hearing that, perhaps it's occurring to him that I might be changing my mind about, um, hiring him tonight. He moves to solidify that by muttering, "Ah, yeah, whatever. Not to be too pushy, but the hundred and a half is normally paid upfront." Reaching in my pocket, I mumble, "Right. I want you to fuck me first, and I'll suck you off later." 

He holds out his hand. Then, with two one-hundred-dollar bills in his hand, he regains some confidence, saying, "I'll decide when you'll be getting fucked " 

Huh, I'm looking at the money remaining in my pocket and see I'm getting low. I only have four hundred-dollar bills, and two twenties left. He pockets the two bills, mumbling, "The extra fifty we'll consider a tip, okay?" Nodding, I get the strongest urge to kiss him. When I put my hands on either side of his face, Jon looks startled. I slowly pull his head up so his Lee-look-alike face is up. After a second, looking into his eyes, I lean down and give him a sloppy kiss on his mouth. He doesn't struggle, so I stick my tongue in his mouth and feel my dick get hard as I see a clear picture of Lee in my head.

That shocked me, so I let go of Jon and stepped back. Why am I fixated on Lee? Let's see, yeah, I was crushing on Cowboy there at the end of our sexual activities. He met Lee, and I was captured by Richard and handed off to Bruce, with whom I fell in love the same way Jon fell in love with Eli. What the fuck's going on?

Snapping me out of my fog, Jon goes, "Give me one of those twenties in your pocket, Zach. It's twenty bucks a kiss, so why not do it again and give me both twenties." Shrugging, I wrap him in my arms, pulling his skinning body against me, and French kiss the hell out of him. He doesn't kiss back but cooperates otherwise, and when I let go of him, I have a forty-dollar boner in my pants. I know what's happening; I'm missing Bruce. That must be it.

He holds out his right hand as he's rubbing across his mouth with his left. Adjusting my junk, I give him the two twenties. He says, "In less than twenty-four hours, I've made more money from you than I made in the past five weeks blowing old men in the garage." I reach over and rub his grown-out burr-haircut head, mumbling, "That was worth forty dollars." 

He nods, saying, "See, you'd probably fall in love with me after one week's mentoring training. We've got to make that happen. Now, I think it's obvious that you really want to do the training, too." 

Bullshit!

Chugging beer, I adjust my junk again, not sure what's going on in my head. What I've got to do is convince Bruce to come back with me tomorrow. That's exactly what I'll do because I need him to be my leader. With him, everything was settling down nicely for me. He was my man, my leader, and we were doing excellent stuff together. Without him, I'm going off the fucking rails again. Jon smacks my ass and says, "C'mon, drink up. Your hour is almost up." 

I mumble, "Fuck that hour bullshit. I didn't hire you online." 

Sounding concerned, he asks, "What's wrong? You're acting strange, not like yourself." 

HA! How would he know what I'm like? I put my arm across his thin shoulders and squeezed him against my side, mumbling, "Sorry. I'll get into it. I think those kisses freaked me out. I didn't know I was going to do that." 

He doesn't pull away from me; instead, he puts an arm around the back of my waist. His tone of voice is as if he's talking to a child, "See, you need a mentor, someone you could follow and look up to. That's what is confusing you, Zach, so let's begin. You'll start first thing in the morning by getting your pussy boy haircut. Tonight, you'll use the MAN hair removal creme in all the right places and be at my apartment for inspection at ten o'clock in the morning. I'll figure out how we'll get away with it later. Leave that up to your mentor."

With less conviction in my voice than I intended, I mumble, "Ah, as I've told you fifty times, I don't want to do that, Jon, but thanks for the offer." Looking into his eyes, I add, "You'd be an excellent mentor, though, I'm sure of that." I don't know why, but he's getting to me. I've got another stiffy in my shorts. 

He smiles, saying, "Each time you say 'no,' it sounds more and more like you want to say 'yes.' I'm getting through to you, aren't I?" Shrugging, I have nothing to say to that because I think he is getting through a little; he's slowly getting on top of me, too. It must be I'm too fucking needy; that's my problem. He has the potential for good dominance, though, and that may bring on the awesome submissive sense I've been missing lately. I miss that... and Bruce could do that without even trying.

Or maybe all I need is relief from my horniness problem. Using a different tactic, I ask, "Like I mentioned a few minutes ago, is it okay if you fuck me first, Jon, and then I'll suck you off later? You know, the reverse of what you had me do last time?"

"See, that's a nice submissive way of asking your dom permission to do something different. You're not telling me what you want, as you tried to do too often. You'll get nowhere with that approach."

Wow, I feel a little stab of submission to him, which makes me sound a little timid, saying, "I know, Jon. Sorry, um, so, will that be alright?" 

He says, "Since you asked so nicely, sure, that'll be fine." Then he uses the arm around my waist to smack my ass again, "Now, let's get inside and you get undressed." 

"Okay, Jon." I want to help develop this submissive sense. It's a start because Jon's stepping up to the plate with some good dominant moves. Plus, there's something about him that's ringing my bell... he's little but a really cool and confident motherfucker, just the same... and persistent, too.

No, it's not all fun and games being as oversexed as I am. I need it and, consequently, will be flexible about whatever I need to do to get it. Ignoring that I told him not to do this earlier, Jon again gets that firm grip on the back of my neck, asking, "Which way to your bedroom?" I point, and he pushes me off the balcony and into the bedroom. I know what it is... it's that Jon wears me down by never stopping with his mentoring sales pitch, plus he's been able to walk the line between being dominant and not quite overdoing it. He was on the verge of annoying me with it, but now that I've settled into accepting his dominant vibe, one he dropped on me gradually, it's feeling damn good. And it helps a lot that I like him too. I'm not sure why I like him, but I do.

In my bedroom, he mutters, "Christ, you're neat. This bedroom is, um, pristine." Letting go of my neck, he snickers, mumbling, "Is that the right word? I'm not an English major." "

Ah, uh-huh, yeah. Do you need to use the bathroom, Jon?" pointing at the bathroom door to keep his eyes away from the bureau. 

He says, "Yeah, thanks. That Coke is running right through me. And, dude, a private bathroom for your bedroom? How much does this place cost you, anyway?" Walking with him to the bathroom, I tell him the rental fee, then say, "I don't need to pee, so I'll give you some privacy." He snickers and says, "I'll let you hold my dick as I piss if you want." Forcing a laugh, I go, "No, that's alright. I'm good." He goes into the bathroom, saying, "Get a condom."

I don't do that. Without washing his hands, Jon walks back into the bedroom and says, "Get undressed quickly. C'mon, Zach. You should already have your clothes off!" We undress in twenty seconds, and Jon holds his five-inch chubby dick out, mumbling, "Get this boned-up, and where's the condom I told you to get?" 

I grab a condom from the bedside table as Jon lies on the bed, his knees pulled up and spread. Getting on the bed, on my knees, I lean down to pick up his dick, then suck off a piss dripping. He mumbles, "Watching you suck off that urine reminds me to offer you some urine play. It's fifty dollars for ten minutes. I just took a piss, but later, if you want, I'd be happy to pee on you, or however, ya know, you want it." 

Licking up his chubby cock's short shaft, I go, "I've never done that, Jon, although I'm aware urine is sterile, which is why licking off that piss drop didn't freak me out." 

Looking surprised, Jon mutters, "It's sterile? I didn't know that. How the fuck can it be sterile?" 

Shrugging, I mutter, "I don't know," and then go down on his cock. Jon has a really good recreational-size cock. It's only five or so inches long but really chubby with a smooth head. I go at it hot and heavy, getting it boned up in less than a minute. I like his dick because I can get the whole thing in my mouth with the head just breaking past the gag-reflect area in my throat. It goes in my throat maybe an inch. I gag a little, but only the first couple of times. It's minor deep-throating, not really long enough for for-fledged deep-throating. Each time it goes into my throat, Jon moans and lifts his ass off the bed, squirming and pulling my hair.

He has a nice body scent, which is strongest when my face is squished against his belly, with a little bit of his boner in my throat. He hasn't bathed since our lunchtime sex, so there's a smidgen of body odor diluting the fresh scent I noticed earlier, but, if anything, it's even sexier somehow. He's pushing my head away as a long drool of precum drags across my tongue. Umm, I'm looking forward to sucking him off all the way after he fucks me.

He's still holding onto a fistful of my hair, holding my head three inches from his boner, saying, "Wow, you cocksuck great, but this hair of yours has got to go." 

"Will you forget about my fucking hair, please?"

Letting go of my hair, he says, "For now, I will.  Get on the floor, um, all fours. I want you walking around on your hands and knees as I'm fucking your ass. Damn, a dog collar would be a perfect addition to doggy fucking. Wish we had one." Slurping on the nice tasting precum drool that I can't describe, I felt another stab of submissiveness toward Jon. Maybe it's his dog collar reference. Whatever, it was hot, a hot submissive spike...

When I get on all fours, of course, he whacks my bare ass with loud, "SMACK! SMACK!" sounds ringing in my ears before the stinging slaps even register, and I yelp, "Ow! OW!" He says, "That's spanking because you didn't roll the condom on." 

Fuck, it's still in my hand. How did I forget to do that? Sitting up, still feeling a little of that submissive spike from a second ago, I rip open the packet and hesitate for a second to get a good look at his boner. It's sticking straight out shiny with my saliva, looking fat and healthy. As I said, it's a nice-looking penis on my top. 

Still on my hands and knees, I need to sit back on my ankles, rolling on the condom. I realized that I got him hard so fast I didn't have a chance to bone up myself. Dropping down onto all fours, Jon smacks my ass, saying, "Lower your asshole a little." I'd like to keep a submissive vibe going. I lower my ass by spreading my knees apart, and then I yell out a high-pitched "OW!" when he rams his chubby boner in past my sphincter. That hurt a lot, but it's a level of hurt that I can embrace after the first initial shock of entry.

He's tight against my buttocks in one second, then humping against me, saying, "Get walking," so I do awkward steps on my hands and knees with my knees apart, unnaturally, keeping my ass low enough for Jon. The awkward walking slightly moves his boner in my ass. It hurts but feels really good, too. As I said, Jon has a perfect size cock for recreational buddy sex. It's not really long, but fat enough to create all the pleasure sensations in my ass that anyone could ask for. No, they're not thrilling sensations, just good, consistent ones. This walking on all fours while getting fucked is new to me. I like it because it's dominant of Jon to make me do it.

He hasn't pulled his boner back yet, and I've walked a full circle on the bedroom floor. I hear a moan from Jon, "Umm, aah," so this walking on all fours must be causing muscles in my buttocks and rectum to massage his hard chubby cock. When I'm halfway around the floor again, he grunts, "Stop!" Then he pulls back and thrusts his cock in my ass for a solid minute. Hard and fast, "Slap, slap, slap," thrust that gets my cock granite-hard sticking straight down at the floor, throbbing with my horny climax building too quickly. I moan, "Ooh!" at each thrust, my back arching and the lips of my anus quivering in its efforts to grip Jon's rock-hard cock as it moves quickly back and forth inside me. It feels really good, too.

With his absurdly hard boner fully impaling me again, Jon says, "Start walking." When I walk on my hands and knees, it again causes slight movement of his fat boner against my prostate, and I go, "Ooh, umm, Jon..." and realize I have a for-real submissive feeling growing stronger in my head. I'm feeling submissive and in the right frame of mind for this submissive sense to have serious, deep submissive possibilities. And, instead of being surprised by that, I embrace it and feel free in my submissive frame of mind to make more unembarrassed moans of sexual arousal. "Ahh, it feels so good, Jon, umm, aah, ooh." 

He, of course, realizes he's got me into a submissive role now as he sternly says, "Faster, get moving faster."

Moving my hands and knees faster causes his boner to pull out and back, out and back. Basically, I'm fucking myself on his hard cock until he again says, "Stop." I stop immediately, and he does hard thrusting for maybe another full minute as I docilely stay in place for him, swaying back and forth on my hands and knees, whining at the power of the climax building inside me, "Ah, ah, ooh, Jon, ahh..." 

Then my world explodes, and I go, "Ahhhh!" blowing a hard stream of cum straight down on the floor, just missing a throw rug. My cum splashes off the hardwood floor, with spray flying up to wet my thighs with drops of creamy cum. Jon thrusts for another thirty seconds as I moan and shudder at the climax sensations. Then, tight against my ass, he blows his load into the condom making breathy noises, then lying on my back.

We're motionless for a few seconds, then he lifts off my back and fucks me for at least five more minutes, getting my cock boning up again before he pulls out, muttering, "I know damn well I gave your ass a hundred dollar fuck." 

I'm still swaying on my hands and knees, feeling sizzling pleasure sensations, ones that are submissive-enhanced and they're hard to beat. I take a deep breath and say, "That was a great fuck, Jon. Thanks." 

Oh, yeah, I'm still feeling submissiveness; it's a profound submissive sense that I want to hold onto. He did a fantastic, dominant job with that sex. I mean, getting me walking on my hands and knees while he fucked me... genius. Jon's out of breath, mumbling, "Get up and flush this condom." 

Yeah, well, he's earned the right to be the bossy dominant top after that fuck. I take the condom, flush it, and use toilet paper to wipe lubricant from all around my asshole, then wipe the cum splashes off my legs. Jon's got his underwear and shorts on when I come back into the bedroom. A shiver goes through me, a sexy, submissive shiver. I can't describe how good it feels being deeply submissive again, especially to a much smaller, younger guy. I shiver again as Jon is texting, and then he says, "Good, we can go back to my place. Benny says I can use his barber clippers. Get dressed."

What? Oh fuck, I want to keep this sexy submissive feeling going a little longer. It's been weeks since I've gotten in a grove like this one. Jon managed to hit all the right dominant notes somehow. At my car, Jon says, "Give me the key fob. You're too spacy to drive." 

Holy shit, that almost made me cum in my pants. He's on a role. What the fuck? It feels so good! I give Jon the keys, and when we get in the car, he says, "Buckle up, Zack." I gulp and almost say, 'Yes, Jon,' but manage not to. What a cool, hot date this has been. Driving my BMW competently, Jon says, "Because you've decided to be cooperative, I might give you a free fuck after your haircut."

I know I'm going to cum in my pants. How the hell did Jon get this much on top of me? The last person, like Jon, was that awful Richard months ago. It's like I'm floating in sexual ecstasy. So good, better than Richard because I like Jon. Inside the apartment, Jon's roommates are either out or in their bedrooms fucking. John says, "Zack, Benny doesn't have a barber's cape, so take your shirt off and sit on that chair," he points to a kitchen chair, "I'll get Benny's barber chippers."

I can't argue. I don't want to argue, and this time, I say what my pussy boy training had me say to my mentor, which is, "Yes, Jon," and then do what I'm told. My dick is as hard as a piece of petrified wood. I'm breathing in a little short burst, feeling so submissively sexy I'm groveling in it. I feel awesome!! Even though I'm in the most fabulous submissive trance ever, I still believe I'm thinking clearly about how Bruce favors military haircuts, so Bruce will thank Jon for talking me into one. 

Jon, carrying a small case, comes into the kitchen and interrupts my rationalizations, exclaiming, "For Christ's sake, Zach, sit up. You're slumping in that chair as if you don't have any bones in your body." Then he laughs, pointing at my lap, "Except that one." Grinning, he hits my lap with the back of his hand. I sit up, and he goes, "Keep your head steady, please." 

I'm deliciously submissive, enjoying how Jon has handled everything. A mere half hour ago, I'd have never believed I'd be going along with this, but it will please Jon AND Bruse. It's not a big deal anyway, except it is because Jon is now completely in charge, but not obnoxiously or triumphantly so. It's more as if he expected this is what would happen. He's so relaxed that it's making me relax.

In a conversational manner, speaking pleasantly, he says, I'm using the number 1 guard for the sides and back. Just keep your head still, please." He runs the clippers up the side of my head, with short hair clippings falling onto my bare shoulders. After moving the clippers up the right side of my head about ten times, he stops, the clippers still making their buzzing sound as Jon mumbles,  "This guard leaves hair an eighth of an inch, which, as you know, is just right for trainee pussy boy's hair. You've had this haircut in the Seals for years. I'll finish the back and the other side, then use the number 2 guide on the top, and you'll be good to go for inspection should you change your mind and work with me for a few weeks."

He's doing the haircut deliberately but not especially fast, and from my point of view, there's something awesome about me docilely letting my dominant top make me over just the way he wants. My cock throbs as I concentrate on sitting up straight. It's the feeling of being included, wanted, and special that adds to this delicious submissive trance I've been in for a while now. The longer it goes on, the better it feels.

Jon runs the clippers redoing a few areas, then says, "Okay, that's looking good, and this is fucking fun too. I know I should be more serious, but I like you, and you like me, and we're doing this together, and it's fun." and he rubs hair clippings off my shoulders, mumbling, "Now, this is what makes Eli's trainees a little different from most. I'm going to use the bare clipper blade starting at your sideburns, going halfway up the sides, and then matching the cut in the back. This takes the hair down to the scalp for that extra clean, military look. It's a matter of pride being the best, ya know?" 

I murmur, "Yes, Jon, uh-huh."

I keep feeling good and then better and better; Jon is so cool. He moves the clippers on the right side of my head, taking the eight-inch hair down to the scalp. He does it more than halfway up the sides, then the back, and then says, "Goddamn, this is turning out really good. Before dropping out of high school, I lived at home doing haircuts for my two younger brothers, and I've been doing the boys here, too. So, I'm not surprised this is a perfect pussy boy trainee haircut. Did Bruce do yours?"

Feeling as if my voice is coming from far away, I murmur, "No, Jon. He sent me to a certain barber he goes to."

"Oh, yeah, you're right." The buzzing clipper sound gets me deeper into this fantastic submissive trance. Finished the sides and back, he rubs his fingers on the sides above my ear, murmuring, "It's a sexy look, actually." Then he pats my shoulder, mumbling, "You're doing great, Zack. I knew you'd be good."

He's checking the size of the guides, muttering, "Now I'll do the top of your head." He finds the clipper guide he's looking for, mumbling, "Here it is," then attaches the guide, adding, "Okay, this number 2 guide leaves a quarter of an inch of hair in its wake, so you're going see a lot of hair falling in your lap." He ruffles his fingers through the hair on the top of my head, pulling the hair up, asking, "How did you talk Bruce into letting your hair get this long? It is at least two inches long." 

Sounding timid, not wanting to get Bruce in trouble, I timidly say, "I kept nagging him because I had short hair for so many years in the Seals, and then after Richard sent me to, um, I..." I stop talking because I sound stupid. I want to get the pure submissive sense back.

Jon mumbles, "Well, I know Bruce is going to like this haircut... it's a good look for you whether you follow through being my trainee or not." He moves the clipper right across the front of my bangs, and a pile of hair flops down onto my lap. I still have an achingly hard, fantastic boner.  With almost a bored expression, Jon moves the clipper from my forehead, cutting hairs all the way back to the crown of my head with a bunch of two-inch-long hair sliding down my back. He does it again and again, saying, "I'm certainly not a fan of Richard, but he's right that this quarter-inch length is the proper length for trainees' hair, and, dude, you look so much better now. You should thank me." 

I murmur, 'Thank you, Jon," and grin to myself. That was so pathetically submissive of me. It was perfect in my condition, though, and a spurt of precum hit my underpants, making me grin. Jon is almost as good a mentor as Bruce.

He chuckles as he runs the clippers back over my head again, and again, and again, and then he goes, "It's ironic I'm shaping you up when I haven't had a haircut since Eli dumped me. As a matter of fact, when you were leaving the lockers yesterday, you saw Richard coming over to me. He told me not to come to work on Monday if I didn't get a haircut. So, you and I will have identical haircuts. I hope you reconsider and let me mentor you at least until Bruce gets back from wherever he is."

Even in my pleasant state of submission, I know there will be no training session tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, etc. I have no intention of arguing that point, though. Instead, I want to continue enjoying the way I feel warm all over, floating and sizzling with sexy submission. It's such a wonderfully relaxing and sexual sensation. Jon asks, "How about that for a coincidence, huh? Richard telling me to get a haircut, and I'm giving you one." 

I murmur, "Oh, uh-huh." The truth is, if I weren't in love with Bruce, Jon would be a great top, and I'd do some pussy boy shit with him. I really like him.

He finishes the haircut too quickly. I wished it lasted longer, but he pats my shoulder and mumbles, " "That does it, Zack. All done, but that was fun, and you look great" He turns off the buzzing clipper sound and rubs his hand all over my head, saying, "Now you're a proper pussy boy recruit. Give me your hand." I hold up my right hand, and Jon guides my hand over my bristly scalp, asking excitedly, "How's that feel?" I mutter, "Good! It feels very, very familiar and excellent. Yep." 

Dropping my hand, he says, "Mentors know what's best, right?" I go, "Uh-huh." Putting the clipper in the sack, he mutters, "That thing cuts hair much better than the one I used years ago. Okay, now, like proper pussy boys, we'll be conscientious about cleaning up the hair clippings." Neither of us is presently a pussy boy. He's a counter clerk, and I'm just me, but what the fuck?.

Jon handled this entire haircut episode perfectly. It was a classic example of getting on top of a guy, in this case, me, and never letting up. It helped a lot that I have an obvious submissive nature, and Jon recognized that by not letting up on me for a second. Fuck, I feel like I'm going to cum. He says, "Hey, how about helping me clean up the cut hair." I murmur, "Yeah, sure." He hands me the broom he got from the kitchen closet, picks up the dustpan and brush, and watches me sweep up my hair. He says, "That's a big pile of hair!" 

Glancing at my reflection in the mirror part of their kitchen clock, I think Bruce will give me a pat on the back because this looks very much like the haircuts he gets every couple of weeks. Jon, standing next to me now, still holding the dustpan and brush, asks, "Whaddaya think?"

"I like it. You did a good job." "Yeah, well, I've given a lot of haircuts." Running my hand over my head, I mumble, "Bruce is going to love this!"

When I finish sweeping the hair in a pile, Jon holds the dustpan, and I sweep the hair into it." I've lost a lot of the submissive trance but still feel really good, and Jon is very chipper now that he's proven that he's fully in charge here. He says, "I might as well examine your body and get that out of the way just in case you change your mind and, you know, realize you'd be a super successful trainee for me." 

I slowly shake my head but have nothing to say to that. Mainly, I want to retain some of the oozy submissive sense Jon got me in. He keeps bringing up that training horseshit because he's following the art of positive thinking. Cheerfully, he says, "You're gonna need to use the MAN hair removal creme at least on your calves. I can see the beginnings of hairs growing back." 

I nod my head. That's no big deal because it's what Bruce would say, too. So far, neither of them, Bruce nor Jon, can let the pussy boy requirements slide. It was such a major part of their lives. We put the cleaning stuff back in the closet, and then I rub my head all over again, liking how it feels. When my hair got long enough to comb, I didn't want to be bothered with it. This is better. 

That's true, but it was Jon who decided I'd have bristly short hair, not me. That's why I'm still feeling a trance or coma-like fogginess. It nothing like the strength of my submissive trance fifteen minutes ago, but I'm still enjoying what's left of it. Jon continues doing a great job of being dominant and in charge, but in a nice manner. He's great. I really like him and his cheerful, dominant, confident manner. Even so, I refuse to discuss the training shit he keeps mentioning because I know I'm not doing it, and right now, I want to stay in my present submissive frame of mind. 

In a fuzzy, nice-feeling fog, I do my best to keep the sarcasm from my voice when asking Jon, "Can I go to the bathroom now, Jon?" 

He smirks at me, mumbling, "I know you're being a smart ass again, but you're also doing an excellent job being in your submissive role. And I know I've had a lot to do with you acting as submissive to me as you've been, so thanks for that. It's been, as I said a little while ago, it's been a lot of fun. This is the most fun I've had in six weeks, so, sure, go to take your piss. Haha, I'll inspect you afterward." 

Yeah, right. Fuck that, and as I piss, I can feel my head clearing. Well, it was great while it lasted, and there wasn't as much role-playing in my submissiveness as Jon thought there was. I don't think he knows how effective his dominant antics are with me. That's probably because he most likely has never met anyone as susceptible to being dominated as I am. It's mostly a coincidence that he fits almost perfectly a young guy who can get me deliciously submissive being a perfect 'dom' for me. As I realized earlier, his small size adds to the experience for me. That is true, as well as the fact that he looks like Lee, plus Jon is very much like Bruce. It takes a certain combination of over-confidence and self-centeredness to be a dominant leader like Bruce and Jon, and all of them.      


Done my piss, hmm, I don't want this to end yet, so I follow him into his bedroom, surprised at how cleaned up it is from this afternoon's mess. I drop my shorts and underwear and stand up straight for Jon's inspection. Oh, Christ, this brings back my trance a little, so I stand straighter, the way Bruce insisted I do it during his insanely stupid pussy boy training. Okay, yeah, this part is role-playing on my part, but it's sexy fun. Jon looks up and goes, "Hey, I'm not the only one having a blast tonight. You're enjoying this sub/dom shit as much as I am, aren't you, Zack?" 

I'm trying not to grin as he rubbed his hands across my shoulders, murmuring, "Seriously, you'd enjoy it even better the way I'd do the training for you." 

He won't drop it so I roll my eyes, but he doesn't see me do that. He says, "But, damn, dude, your body is so fucking hot!" Squeezing my butt cheeks, he adds, "This is one of the benefits of being a mentor. A little fuck like me gets to control a handsome big stud like you. Not being a mentor right now, though, I don't know for sure why you're, um, ya know..."

Rubbing my ass again, he goes, "Fuck, I'm super-hot and aroused from how you were so submissively obedient. Zack, you have no idea how much that got me aroused! Damn, it got me horny as hell, too. I love shit like this!" 

He casually rubs my head, walks around in front, then says, "Ya know what? I'll do the pretend inspection of your body hair later. I'm super-hot to have you suck me off. Oh yeah, I'll be feeling your bristly head as you swallow my cum."

I'm up for that! "Let's do it." 

He lies on my bed again, his knees up and spread, his hands behind his head, a big grin on his face. I eagerly crawl up on the bed and get on my knees. Bending over, I lick around his penis and notice what looks like a white substance from inside the condom still on his plump cock. Still feeling a pleasant submissive sense toward Jon, I pick up his dick and suck it clean. He mumbles, "That powder or whatever it is from inside condoms don't taste like anything." 

I'm getting a kick out of how Jon's acting as if there's nothing unusual about me being deeply submissive to him. He takes it mostly for granted, making me think, somewhere in my brain, that he's not telling me his whole story. He's too blase about this for it to be his first time acting as a dominant top... or dominant mentor.

As I said, I hadn't felt that dominated since that first time with Richard when he got on top of me like a motherfucker and never let up. Before that, I'd have to go way back to prep school when I was totally under the control of that older kid, Bret Farmer. He made me rim his stinky asshole every night for three months straight before he dumped me for that cute Spanish kid whose name I forget. Jon is too good at this dominant stuff to be a three-week recruit, as he claims. Right now, though, I can't get enough of sucking and licking his cock and balls.

When his dick is a fat pointing-straight-out boner, I suck on one of his nuts, then the other, with Jon groaning and moaning, rubbing my bristly hair and squirming so much I bite one of his nuts by accident. My arms are around his buttocks, squeezing them and pushing my finger at his asshole. He groans, then murmurs, "Lick it," and he turns over. I spread his cute butt cheeks and then lick up his ass crack. His asshole is as clean as Bruce's, and I'm again thinking, hey, I'll bet Jon is bullshitting me. I think he's already been a mentor.

That thought evaporates as I devour his asshole with my tongue. Getting my tongue up inside his rectum arouses me, and my climax sneaks up on me; oooh, fuck! I stop pushing my tongue up there, stop everything to hump my hips as I squeal like a cunt and blow my load against Jon's ass. It's a pretty good load of cum, considering I shot off a big one not too long ago. Wow, it leaves me shaking and murmuring, "Um, um, um, oh God, ooooh..."

Jon says, "C'mon, Zack. Get your mouth around here and suck me the rest of the way off. Be my pussy boy." He turns back over, my cum smearing off his buttocks onto the bedspread. I grab his boner, scraping it with my teeth in my anxiousness to get it in my mouth. Sucking on his hard cock, then pushing the hard head into my throat twice, he goes, "Ah, Omigod," and shoots a nice stream of cum in my mouth and down my throat. He immediately rolls away from me, grabbing his cock, moaning, "It's tender, oh fuck, that was awesome!"

I fall forward off my knees, lying on him and hugging him, pushing my face against his surprisingly tight chest, then inhaling his unique, very pleasant scent with his unwashed body odor on top of it. Moving my tongue down his chest to his belly, then moving it back up to his chest, I lick his right nipple like a cat licking at a bowl of milk. I'm totally out of control, dragging my tongue all over Jon's body.

He gets it together before I even think about reining myself in. I want to eat him up or crawl inside him when he slaps the side of my face, saying, "I'm sorry for slapping you, but calm down, please." 

Breathing hard, I look up, surprised this little dom had the balls to smack me. Then, I go, "No, I'm sorry, I, um..." and he mumbles, "It's okay, but you were getting, um, frantic." 

Oh, God, in my submissive frenzy, Jon seems like the most awesome dominant top in the world. Shocking myself, I ask, "Will you kiss me?" 

He breaks my submissive spell by laughing in my face, then saying, "You're a ballbreaker, aren't you? Breaking my balls by overdoing your submissive shit. That's quite a convincing act! I liked it a lot until you overdid it... Hey, were you mocking my attempts at dominating you? I thought I nailed it pretty fucking good. I was feeling proud of myself." 

I'm on my knees on either side of his legs. Gulping, I come almost all the way out of my trace. mumbling, "What?" 

He laughs again and says, "Knock it off and come up to lie with me. That was exquisite ass-rimming, by the way. Bruce knows how to train a pussy boy; I'll give him that." I'm still smelling and tasting him, just hanging here. He says again, "C'mon, don't fuck with me anymore. Can't you lie beside me?" Whoa, that was, um, really something. He's on top of the bedspread, but it smells like it was washed, so that's okay. My head clears, and I say, "Jon, um, what'd you say?" 

He motions with his fingers for me to come up and lie with him, so I crawl up, and he puts out his arm so I can lie against it. He says, "The cum you shot all over my ass is on the bedspread, and the bedspread just came out of the dryer so thanks a lot!"

"Sorry." I take a deep breath then, and he asks, "Aren't we having great sex together?" 

My head is very clear now, but I'm still feeling slightly submissive to Jon, so I lie over partly on his little skinny body and snuggle in tightly. He snickers and says, "There ya go, joking around again. You can drop the act now, but Zack, you did it awesomely."

I love how he smells. My hand goes across his slim body, and I can feel his ribs on the other side. He squirms under me, saying, "You should have shaved, bro. Pussy boys are always clean-shaven, but you know that. Your chin is scratching my shoulder." 

I mutter, "What?" and he laughs, then goes, "Stop saying WHAT!" 

Oh, God, he's right about the sex we've had tonight. It's been the best sex for me in a month. My arm hugs his slight torso, my fingers counting his ribs as I inhale his sexy scent. Jon chuckles, then says, "No, I mean it. Stop fucking around!" He pushes my head to his shoulder and pushes the rest of me off him, saying, "Enough is enough, Zach! Jesus, that was extraordinary oral sex, though." 

I lie partially against his slim body, my cock still vibrating as I continue coming down from what's left of my superior submissive high. Letting out a long breath, it now feels like I'm hungover. Not from four or five beers, but from that submissive high that I can't even believe I was in.

"Your shoulder is making my arm go numb, Zach. Move it over and lie the way Bruce taught you to do it." 

Bruce? Oh, damn, yeah. Not realizing I'm going to say it, I ask, "You're not a three-week recruit, are you, Jon?"

He exhales as if annoyed, then goes, "Not exactly, no." Still feeling some submissiveness towards him, I turn my head on his slim shoulder to look at him, asking, "Why did you say you were?" 

He shrugs his shoulder under my head, mumbling, "I felt like it. You tried to deceive me, so I returned the favor. No big deal. I know you've enjoyed yourself tonight, right?" 

He's right about that, and I wish our false relationship could continue, so I say, "Yes, very much." 

"You're so fucking easy to manipulate. Hell, I couldn't resist doing it. And it was such a blast dominating a hunk like you! But, Omigod, you're such a pussy!" 

That gets my head clearing completely, but I can't work up any animosity, so I say, "Well, I guess, but what's your real story? And, just so you know, you're pretty fucking fantastic, so..." 

He says, "Thanks. Um, it's not a very interesting story. I finished hooking on the streets for Eli in three months, then worked eight months as a pussy boy online jerking off for perverts or going on dates, then I asked Eli if I could be a mentor."

"So, why are you working in the locker rooms?" 

"Because I haven't been able to recruit anyone yet. It's a bitch getting someone to put up with what we put up with, ya know?" I mutter, "Yeah, I guess." He says, "Richard did see you in the locker room yesterday, by the way. I told him what you said about me servicing you, and he said it's okay if I wanted to try getting you back in the fold as my recruit."

Lifting my head, looking at him, I go, "Get the fuck out of here! No way Richard would forgive me like that, not that I care..." 

He shrugs, "Yeah, he doesn't hold a grudge. It's all about making money for him, and you'd make him and me money. You've got a natural instinct to please. I had you trying your ass off to please me tonight, and I've known you for less than eighteen hours. You're a natural submissive, and clients will love a submissive guy who looks like you because it seems, um," and he chuckles, "Because it seems as if you'd be a macho Navy Seal, but you're not, ya know? You're a guy who can't help but get submissive even to a hundred twenty-pound short, skinny guy like me."

I'm thinking about that as he rubs my quarter-inch hair, saying, "Richard also said that I could have Bruce as a recruit, too. Making Bruce start over again is punishment enough. Richard will then forget about the fiasco at the club." 

The last flicker of submissiveness blinks out of me, and now I feel foolish. My face feels hot as I silently curse my needy, oversexed helplessness when in the clutches of a sexy, hot, dominant top, especially a young, skinny one like Jon.

He looked at me and asked, "What's wrong now? You had a great time tonight, didn't you?" I shrug, and he goes, "Don't start pouting and second-guessing yourself. You got exactly what you wanted." Shrugging again, I mutter, "I'm not pouting. You were awesome, Jon. I wish I had a little more self-control, that's all. You had me eating out of your hand like your pet monkey."

"Well, yeah, that's where my training comes in." 

Fuck the training. As I thought earlier, there needs to be a certain personality trait in someone to be as super-confident and dominant as Jon, Bruce, or Richard. Sure, training and experience will enhance the natural dominance, the Alpha dog inclinations in a guy... or a woman. He rubs my head again, saying, "What? Is it the haircut that's got you pouting? It looks good on you, ya handsome motherfucker. What's your problem? I did you a favor."

Pulling away from him, then getting off the bed, I'm like, "No, the haircut is fine. I couldn't give less of a sit about that, and you were perfect tonight, Jon. Seriously, you're right; I loved every minute of it. The thing is, all your efforts are for naught because there is barely one chance in a million I'm going to be your trainee for the pussy boy bullshit, and that's what it is, too... bullshit!

He sits up, mumbling, "One chance in a million, huh? So, you're saying there's a chance. It's worth a try, then, so I'm not through with you yet. I'm telling you, don't be so sure of yourself." 

I'm picking up my underpants as he says, "I know you won't say no to another fuck." 

Holding my underpants, I look at him and ask, "Another fuck? You mean tonight?" 

He shrugs, "Sure, it's still early." He looks at his watch, "It's not even ten o'clock, for Christ's sake." 

"Oh, yeah, okay, sure. Do I, um, ah, should I get back in bed with you?" He says, "No, you can get dressed. We'll have something to drink and talk a little. Let my batteries get recharged. Um, but it'll cost you another hundred bucks."

Gee, a surprising little submissive wave slides over me. Submissiveness isn't something that a person can totally turn off and on. This time, I'll keep it in check. I smile, "Yeah, sure. You're a hot top for me. It's good we can still do business even though I turned down your pussy boy training offer." 

He hops off the bed, mumbling, "So far, you've turned it down. It's not over yet. Anyhow, before you get dressed, come in the bathroom and clean your cum off my ass." Yeah, he's still acting in charge because he doesn't know any other way to be. He accepts rejection because he doesn't believe it. That's confidence.

In their apartment's bathroom, I'm taking my time wiping cum off his cute-as-hell ass; tight butt cheeks small enough I can almost hold all of one in my hand. I've been taking it for granted lately, but the hairlessness of pussy boy's bodies is a brilliant move. They look so smooth, so clean, and streamlined. Drying his ass, I then wrap him in my arms from behind and lift him off the floor. I love the feel of a skinny guy's body against mine, especially when we're naked and the little body is as toned as Jon's. He snickers, then mumbles, "Hugs are ten bucks each, Zach."

Letting go of him, we go back to the bedroom, chuckling, and get dressed as he says, "See, you find it hard to keep your hands off me, and that tells me you shouldn't get overly confident that you've definitely rejected my offer to finish your training." I mutter, "Uh-huh, sure."

His constant harping on this training nonsense should be annoying, but it isn't because there's a serious submissive factor in the one chance in a million that I'd actually do it for him. That titillating one-in-a-million chance that I'd be his pussy boy on the street sucking and getting fucked to earn him money makes my dick quiver. Ya, know; just thinking about it the same way it got my dick quivering when Bruce was constantly talking about the same shit. Pretending I needed to ask his permission to take a piss was so 'effing hot, though. Haha, but only a submissive individual will appreciate that.

When we're dressed in shorts and polo shirts, both of us coincidentally choosing the same clothes tonight, Benny comes in and says, "I've got a guy coming over in a few minutes. Jon looks at me, and I don't want the night to end, so I mutter, "Let's go to my place." That's what we do; I am driving this time. Jon is very chatty during the ride and I have positive feelings for him. It was rare good luck for me to hit it off with Jon in the locker room.

Two minutes after walking into my apartment, Cowboy and Lee are coming in for the night. Jon had just told me, "Sit there, Zack. I need to get myself in a dominant frame of mind again. He then turned and said to the boys, "Hi, guys. I'm Jon Scheyer, Zach's boyfriend for the night. How are you guys doing?"

Lee smiles and bumps fists with Jon. "Nice to meet you. I'm Cowboy's boyfriend, Lee Patrick." Cowboy waves his hand, grinning and saying, "I'm assuming Bruce doesn't know about this."

I grin, saying, "It's not a big deal, Cowboy." Jon mumbles, "Plus, what he don't know won't hurt him, huh? But, dude, are you a real cowboy?" 

Cowboy nods, "Yep, I'm on vacation from the rodeo circuit." 

I shake my head, mumbling, "No, he's not, Jon. That's his nickname." Cowboy chuckles, gets a beer, and asks me, "Zach, want a beer ?"  I nod, and he goes, "How about you, Jon?" Jon says, "Thanks, I don't like beer." Lee says, "I'll get Cokes for us, Jon. I don't drink either." 

Handing me a beer, the Cowboy smirks and asks, "Gee, who does Jon remind you of, Zach?" 

I grin, looking at Lee as Jon mumbles, "Yeah, I thought I was seeing my younger brother when Lee walked in." Lee gives Jon a Coke, mumbling, "We don't look alike." 

Lee and Cowboy sit on the sofa, Cowboy's arm around the back of Lee's neck. Jon, still standing, points at Cowboy and says, "This is weird, but I thought my boss, Richard, was the best-looking young guy I ever saw in my life, but you're even, um, you're beautiful, Cowboy."

Cowboy swallows some beer, them muters, "Yeah, I know." Jon snickers, then he sits on the arm of the chair I'm in and rubs my head, asking, "What do you guys think of Zach's haircut? I did it for him," and he jostles my head, adding, "He looks good, doncha think?" 

Lee says, "Oh, I thought he went to my dad's barbershop, but yeah, I like it." 

Cowboy says, "So, Zach, how do you intend to explain all this shit to Bruce when you see him tomorrow?" I've noticed that Cowboy has taken a distinct dislike of Jon. He occasionally does that with guys; sometimes, he's right, and other times he isn't. I say, "I'll tell him I went to Lee's dad's barbershop." 

Jon mutters, "It was my idea, and I, haha, kind of insisted Zach get this haircut."

I think Lee senses tension between Cowboy and Jon and says, "Hey, do you guys realize intelligence actively abets stupidity by allowing pernicious rationalization?" 

Cowboy mumbles, "Of course. Stupidity is a specific cognitive failing, but remember to distinguish stupidity from an error or mistake." 

Lee nods his head, "Uh-huh, and dumbness is much different from stupidity." Jon squeezes the back of my neck, saying, "Zach, let's get some fresh air." Cowboy chugs some beer grinning around the bottle's opening, staring at Jon.

On the balcony, I light a cigarette as Jon mutters, "What the fuck were those two talking about? Are they calling me stupid?" 

I shrug, "I have no clue what they were talking about, Jon. They get a kick out of talking nonsense, but, no, they weren't calling you stupid. Why would they?" 

He drinks some Coke, and I exhale smoke from my cigarette. Jon waves his hand at the smoke, saying, "You know there'll be no smoking for you when you're my recruit." I laugh out loud, then say, "Oh, okay," and take a deep drag off my Marlboro the way Bruce does.

Jon rubs my back, asking, "So, how'd you like that doggie fuck we had earlier tonight?" 

"I loved it! I already told you you're a monster good top. One of the best I've ever had." 

"Thanks. I can do better, too. Just think about that, and, um, oh yeah, how about the hundred for your next fuck. Get the money business out of the way." 

I look at him and grin, asking, "How about a freebie?" 

He smirks, "You know very well how you can get tons of free fucks compliments of me when I'm your stern but oh-so-lovable mentor."

Grinning back at him, I pass one of my last hundred dollar bills to him. He chuckles as he slips it into his pocket, muttering, "Thanks." I smile, saying, "I could hug the shit out of you. You turn me on, Jon." 

He says, "Thanks for the compliment. You already know how hot I think you are, and what a fabulous pussy boy I could turn you into." 

"Did you ever hear someone refer to you as a broken record?" He shrugs, "Yes, I have, but we'd be perfect together as mentor/trainee."
Swallowing beer, I ask, "Who was your mentor after Eli dumped you?" He snickers, "You know damn well that Eli never dumped me. Hell, I made a lot of money for him, even with my small penis. I'll make more money for him if I can recruit someone... preferably you." 

I say, "That's not happening, but for the next two weeks, I'll be the best customer you ever dreamed of having." He nods, "Yeah, I know you would be, that's if I don't cut you off." 

I stare at him, and he shrugs, "I might do that, Zach. Hey, you know what I'm after, and I'll do what I need to. Hell, I've made it as plain as the nose on your handsome face; I want you as my recruit."

Nodding, I go, "Yeah, I know, and I won't do that, but don't cut me off as a john. Tonight was the best sex I've had in a while." 
He asks, "Better than with Bruce?" 

"Sort of, yeah. Um, it's complicated because I'm in love with him, though, so hard to compare accurately, but you got me into that submissive shit that I grovel in like a pig in the mud. It's like a drug to me." 

He says, "Don't worry. I'm not cutting you off. I need the money, and it's a blast for me to dominate you. I already told you that, so I'll service your needs for a week maybe. I expect to have you in the program sooner rather than later, though." 

"Don't bet the ranch on it," and he says, "And not just you. I'm going after Bruce, too. Ya know, when he gets back from whatever he's doing. Having you under control will make it much easier to get him buckling under."

Flicking my cigarette butt into the night, I mumble, "Dream on, dreamer boy." Jon goes to say something but stops when Cowboy slides the balcony door wide enough to says, "Lee and I are turning in, Zach. goodnight... um, nice to meet you, Jon." 

"See you in the morning, bro. It's great having you and Lee back." The door slides shut, and Jon goes, "Would he ever make a fantastic pussy boy, huh?" 

Using a conversational speaking voice, I say, "No, he wouldn't. If you or anyone from the pussy boys so much as approach Cowboy or Lee, I will put that person in the hospital for a long stay. I'm not talking jive; I'm not talking bullshit; I'm deadly serious about that." 

He pulls his head back, going, "Whoa, easy now. Nobody is going to talk to them. Certainly not me after hearing that. Put that scary dude shit back in the box it came out of." 

I give him a look, mumbling, "I'm just telling it like it is. They're so far off-limits to any of this crap they're invisible." 

He says, "Christ almightly, I got it already! Lighten up." Draining the last of my beer, my blood pumping a little faster... jeez, I got worked up there a little bit.

Jon rubs my shoulder, saying, "It's cool... we're good." I nod and mumble, "I'm getting another beer." 

He asks, "Do you got any vodka? I can drink something alcoholic as long as I can't taste the booze." 

"No, we don't have vodka, but I've got bourbon. Bourbon and Coke. That's a drink." 

"Okay, I'll try that so you won't need to drink alone." I turn to go inside, and he says, "I'll come with you," and tightly grips my neck again. I stop and say, "Don't do that," and he goes, "Yeah, I'm gonna continue doing it, Zach. Let's get something straight between us. If you want me to service your sexual needs, which seem to be quite significant, you'll need to put up with this. This, and any other thing I decide to do. We'll do stuff my way, Zach, or we won't do it at all."

Well, there he goes with his dominant shit, and a shiver of submissiveness streaked right through me as my dick tightened up. It feels so good like it must feel like doing cocaine. I need to think about not shuddering, think hard as I mutter, "Okay, Jon, you're right. We'll do it your way." He pushes me, mumbling, "I really like you, Zack, but don't test me again. I'm in charge!" 
I timidly murmur, I know," as a submissive streak makes me hold my breath. Jon lets go of my neck in the kitchen and asks pleasantly, "So, how much bourbon will you use?" I tell him one jigger, which is an ounce and a half. He watches me put ice in a glass, then a jigger of Jim Beam, Bruce's choice for bourbon, then most of a can of Coke. Jon tastes it, makes a face, then says, "It's good," and we both laugh. He says, "I can taste the whiskey, but it's not too bad." 

Relaxing a little, I mutter, "Okay, then." I stare at him, and he murmurs, "You're fine, Zack. You're alright." He grins, and I nod, relaxing more as I grab another Budweiser, asking, "Can we go out on the balcony again, John?" He grabs my arm, saying, "You just had a smoke. We'll drink our drinks in here." 

I resisted grabbing my junk like I wanted to because that got streaking submissiveness firing through me. Man, he's better at this than Bruce, but Bruce has tempered his bossiness because he's grateful for how I've helped him. Jon's the opposite. He motions at the sofa, saying, "Sit there with me." When I do, he quietly says, "Right next to me," and I slide over, remembering Bruce doing the same thing during our breaks in training. Little things that constantly remind me who's in charge. 

When I'm so close, the sides of our legs are touching; he smiles nicely and squeezes the back of my neck, saying sweetly, "You're my favorite client of all time, Zach, and I really do appreciate doing business with you." Then, looking me in the eyes, he fishes for compliments, "I hope you feel you're getting your money's worth." It can get hypnotic for me when these super-confident guys get on a roll. His hand is still resting on the back of my neck, and I need to take a deep breath. Whoa.

He opens his eyes the way you do when you're waiting for a response, so I go, "Absolutely, Jon... more than my money's worth. As I told you before, you're a fantastic dominant sex partner." Another squeeze on my neck gives me chills, and this time, I can't stop a little shudder. He grins, "Thanks, Zach." 

Oh man, I need to take in a big inhale and try doing it quietly, but I can't maintain eye contact now. Fuck! He really knows how to get to me. Then I do a long, noisy, deep inhale, followed by a nervous chuckle, mumbling, "I can't catch my breath... haha, that's stupid, huh?"

He smiles and takes his hand off my neck to pick up his rum and Coke. After taking a swallow, he asks, "Seriously, how do you like the haircut I gave you now that it's sunk in?" My dick is firming up for no reason. Well, I guess Jon's the reason. My hand goes to the stiff, short hairs on my head as I mutter, "My haircut?" 

He nods, and I go, "Um, I already told you, I really like it. Ya know, I've had four years of haircuts like this one. Well, not exactly like this, but... um." He says, "It looks great on you because your hair growth is so tight that no scalp shows. That's when a haircut looks bad, don't ya think? When you can see a guy's scalp in between the hairs." 

"I guess, um, I've never thought to notice that."

Gulping my beer, I tell myself... toughen up, Zach! Then, totally unexpected, Jon asks, "Whaddaya think about me spending the night with you? Would you like that?" 

Well, no, but I force a laugh, saying, "I don't think I could afford it, haha." 

He says, "No charge, but if you don't want me to stay, that's okay too." Wait, what am I thinking? That would be cool, so I go, "Yes, please stay. I want you to stay, really." He drinks some rum and Coke, then goes, "Okay, if you insist." 

Without realizing it, I'm groping my junk, thinking about sleeping naked with Jon's skinny body against mine. Nodding my head, grinning goofily, I go, "A sleepover with my 'dom,' um, I mean mentor... um, no, Jesus, what am I saying? My hired pussy boy who's doing me a favor of a free sleepover." He grins, asking, "Am I making you nervous?" 

"What? Nervous? No! It's an unexpected, um, thrill that you're staying the night. That's what it is."

"For me, too. You've never been in a room with Peanut trying to sleep. That little fucker snores like a gorilla, and he farts! This will be a real treat for me. I'd sleep here every night if you'd invite me to do that." 

"Oh, well, um, Bruce..." He goes, "I mean, just until he comes back, obviously." 

"Well, ya know, I'd need to ask Cowboy if it's alright because he pays half the rent."

Jon finishes his drink, saying, "Can I try another one of these?" We stand, and I guzzle the rest of my beer. Jon chuckles as he grips the back of my neck, extra hard this time. I look at him and make a face. He shrugs, "Yeah, I need to do this. Accept it, and let's go." 

I sink a little bit more into a submissive frame of mind... it feels harmlessly good; it really does! I bump against his side as we walk to the kitchen, and we both shake our heads a little, chuckling. He knows he's getting on top of me again, but, what the fuck, it's sexy to me. Making his rum and Coke, I say, "Just so ya know, I'm psyched you want to spend the night, Jon. Surprised but psyched! Um, but should I pay in advance for a morning fuck 'cause I know we're gonna have one, and I'd feel better knowing it's, um, official." 

He takes the drink I made for him and says, "Yeah, good point. Just slide me another hundred and, ah, if you want to include a tip, I'd really appreciate it." Getting a beer for myself, I reach in my pocket, and, of course, I know there are only two or three hundred-dollar bills left and no smaller denominations. I don't care 'cause I'm a spoiled trust fund brat with plenty of money in the truck of my $85,000 car. Nothing to be proud of, but...

Giving Jon two of my last three hundred-dollar bills, I mumble, "Money well spent." He pockets the money, muttering, "I'm happy you feel that way. C'mon now, let's snuggle on the sofa, and maybe I'll let you kiss me for free. Haha, do you wanna do that?" 

I jokingly say, "That's really tempting, Jon. Omigod, a free kiss, but I'm going to have a cigarette on the deck instead." He goes, "No! No more smoking tonight. I don't like the smell getting on my clothes." Taking a deep breath, calming myself, I say in a non-threatening voice, "Yes, lots of people find cigarette smoke offensive, so you'd better stay in here while I smoke out there. That's if you don't fucking mind too much." 

"I was kidding, Zach. Of course, you can smoke if you must." Without trusting myself to say more, I take my beer out on the balcony. Jon followed with his rum and Coke. He says, "Jeez, don't go all nuts on me, Zach. It was a joke." No, it wasn't! It was him seeing how much he could get away with. They all do it; the confident, dominant guys always push it. I usually love it, but occasionally, like a minute ago, I need to exert myself a little so I don't get too deeply under his influence—it's a safety valve sort of thing.

Lighting a Marlboro, I take a drag, and, while exhaling, I say, "I know it's a dangerous and nasty cancer-catching habit or whatever, so save your breath about that." He pats my shoulder, saying nicely, "I wasn't going to lecture you about the eighteen million reasons why you shouldn't smoke. I was going to say I'm sorry you thought I was intruding too much in your life. Until you agree to be my trainee, of course, you can smoke any time and as often as you want."

Drinking a few swallows of beer, I try feeling angry that he had the audacity to say I couldn't smoke anymore tonight, but I can't work any anger up. He's just being himself. Putting my arm across his slim shoulder, I go, "Sorry I came on so strong there." He mutters, "No problem. You might want to work on developing a sense of humor, though. I was just fucking with you." 

Ha! He was testing me as they all do, but that's alright. I say, "Yeah, I guess. Hey, anyway, I'm happy you're staying the night, seriously happy about that. I might do some twenty-dollar kisses if that okay with you." He snickers, "Yeah, it's okay with me. Actually, I'm flattered that you're so hot for me."

Squeezing my arm around his shoulders, pulling him against my side tightly, I mutter, "Well, Jon, I like the way you so easily and totally get on top of me, so I'm kinda totally captivated by you. Actually, I can hardly wait for you to dominantly fuck me to the stars tonight. The way you got me under your control was pretty awesome." 

He slips out from my arm on his shoulder, drinks some rum and Coke, and says, "I already knew all that, Zach, but I wasn't sure you realized it... yet." 
"Well, I do, and, as I said, I like it. So, whaddya gonna do about it?" He gets his hand on the back of my neck, squeezing so hard I hunch my shoulder, whining, "Ow, Jon, Ow!" He says, "What I'm going to do about it is give you as much dominance as you can take, but no more than you can take. Plus, I'm going to fuck you really well, so good you won't want to do without it, and you'll agree to be my recruit so you can get some more. That's about all I have in mind, except I like you a lot too."
Chugging some beer, I burp, then mutter, "Let's go to bed, and I'll suck a puggy boner on you to fuck my ass with." 

He laughs and says, "Not yet. I'll decide when we're doing that, right?" I flick my cigarette butt off the balcony while thinking how hard it is for me to resist Jon's blatant dominant statements, especially because it's all coming from this little skinny nineteen-year-old. If I wanted to, I could smack the shit out of him and tell him to go fuck himself, and what could he do about it? Nothing, that's what. That's not the point, though. Well, it's part of the point in that it makes it seem okay, as I rationalized earlier, to accept his dominant antics, knowing I could smack the shit out of him. And that knowledge makes it okay for me to say, "I know that, Jon. So, let me put it another way. Please, can we go to bed now?"

He says, "Yeah, okay, after we finish our drinks." Getting in the mood for being appropriately submissive to my dom, I ask, "Well, do you mind awfully if I have one last smoke?" 

He says, "You just finished one, so this time, it's not okay. The answer is no. Sorry." 

Perfect answer this time because I want to sense his dominance as we get ready for sex. Gawd, I want him to fuck me really hard tonight!

To be continued...