The Trap Set by the Greek Gods Part Two By Entonces The names have been changed to protect the guilty

The Greek god Eros is the mythical god of desire. He has brothers. I think that they all went to work on me. Why else would they allow my path to cross a curly haired blonde man whose ass was so unique that I had to own? I am Rick and Michael is the man's name. In the first part of this story I described Michael's butt as incomparable. I thought all night and day to come up with some sort of adjective or metaphor that best described what it felt to fuck an ass that spasm like his. Here is my best shot. Fucking Michael's manhole is like playing with a spinning top where the more you pushed down on it the faster it spun and all this action is going on inside a squishy warm water filled balloon with a tight fitting slinky thrown in. Then imagine your dick in that sensory confusion. Yet a spinning toy does not quit fit what I felt nor does the squishy balloon either. This is the closest I can describe Michael's ass. The more I pumped into him the more he spasmed and the more intense the feeling. I had to have more of him but I had no contact information.

When Michael left my home all he left behind was his argyle socks. They held no smell. The only physical reminder that he was even there was a vague sperm spot on my sheets. I tried to go about my life as if he was simply another fuck but I would relapse back to what we did. That same night while I was out cruising the bars. I even turned down one of my regulars due to a lack of interest. I toyed with my vodka cranberries merely replacing them when the ice melted away. Dudes! I wasn't even interested in getting drunk! That incredible manhole of Michael's remained front and center of my psyche so intensely that I went home alone when I didn't have to. I have been in love before. I know what lust is too. But to have and overwhelming feeling of longing and desire overtake me like this was something new. It conquered me and I was its prisoner. Too bad for me, I had become that moth to the blue light bug zapper.

I went to work for the next 6 days because I had nothing better to do. My boss asked if I had the flu or something. The head cashier asked if I had girlfriend problems; to all I gave no answers. I tried to keep my desire to have Michael again in check, and was afraid my reaction would OUT me from my very deep closet. Wednesday came around again. I returned to the same bar. No one knew nor had seen someone that I had described. Even one of the old guys whom I snatched Michael way from had not seen him but clearly remembered my actions. Halfway through week two, I got a call from Michael. He wanted to meet me after work. We set a time and place. I swear that had to be the longest day of my life. The head cashier's radar clicked on. She could tell something had changed with me. I guess I do wear some things on my shirt sleeve making me a bad poker player. Naw; I am a player that loves to poke. Hopefully it will be Michael and tonight.

We met at yet another dive bar. Michael told me that his BF was sitting on the window edge of their third floor walk-up and fell to the ground. He had been busy counting the money they stole from a john. Michael's BF would be OK only that now he had changed. As he droned on about his BF, I took note that the guy was a brute. He had to get physical with Michael before they could have sex. He talked of being thrown around and spanked. I decided then and there that the former rich kid should have some better experiences from a man that wanted to possess his incredible ass. I got a break that night too. Michael gave me the apartment manager's phone number who had plenty of children to run a message to him. The door to my ruin was now thrust open, and the god's fell down laughing.

The best thing I loved about my work schedule was that I could close the bars, fuck half the night away and still had time to be fresh for work. I proceeded to get the rich kid good and toasted before I brought him to my home. I asked if he wanted to spend the night and he said yes. Again I was treated to that warm, squishy, tornadic manhole of his. But this time I was told to ease up on all the body worship and when I was completed all he wanted to do was sleep. I began to doubt myself. I hardly slept that night with his beautiful body in my bed as one distraction and his aloofness for the other. I decided to intensify my campaign to win him over.

In the late morning I offered to take him to breakfast. Michael accepted. We went to an upscale café and had a good meal. He had good table manners like a kid raised on the rich side of the tracks. Yet he made no comment of the great food. He only asked if I could spare a few bucks.

"What do you need Michael or may I call you Mike."

Call me Michael, I need 50 bucks do you have it?

"Sure walk with me to the bank over there and I'll get it for you." I answered. No alarm bells were going off nor would they with me. I had a long history in dealing with hustlers. In fact I paid for some of my first sex when I was 20. Money has no real attraction to me to this day it is simply a tool best used to get what you want. If Michael wanted to play this game then "let's rock".

The next night I took Michael to one of LA's top clubs. It noted that he never strayed away from me and even when guys tried to hit on him, they were ignored. We partied as if tomorrow was never to arrive. Then I sent him home in a taxi. The next day was my payday and I wanted some really special. Earlier in the day I made reservations at a French restaurant I was going to spend at least $100 per plate. I wanted to show that I had some means and I had intentions on sharing with him. I was a regular customer of the taxi driver from the night before. He knew where Michael lived. When he came down it was a bit sad. The boy was dressed for the bars and not for where we were going. I had told him before hand and I guess he had no Sunday cloths. We had the time so I had our driver take us to a mall in West Hollywood. Michael really cleaned up well. He looked like a movie star. He knew what the stem of a wine glass was for and handled the escargot tongs with ease. His wealthy up bringing showed. But if I tried to touch his leg under the table he withdrew. Michael was little more friendly and self-revealing, so I probed more into this pay-as-I-go thing. Then he told me the most damaging thing of all. He said that I didn't do it right. Therefore I had to pay for his ass. He went on and said that he had the most fun with me and that even before the accident changed his now barely BF, was an idiot. Michael liked me and liked hangout with me. He said that he liked to be fucked and that part was good...but.

WHAT?! I didn't do it right? What the hell did that mean? My style of fucking was good, BUT; but what? I asked. Michael wouldn't answer. To learn of this wasn't worth the $500 I had spent that night. The damage to my ego became the accelerant to my doom. The trap that Eros and his siblings had set was irreversibly closed. My psyche was hurt and so was my wallet but this was only the start of the downward slide because Michael then asked if he could stay with me and my other room without having to pay rent even with his ass. Why I said yes, to this day I don't know the answer.

With him in my home there was no more fucking around with other guys. I focused my whole attention on Michael. I began what I call creative financing to pay for all the gifts I plied in my attempt to get back in his ass. When I give my word I never break it unless it is given under extreme conditions. The only times that happens is when I say I won't cum in a guy's ass while I'm in the throes of ecstasy and had reached the point of no return. Hell yeah then I would say anything to finish. But to have full advantage of someone who subjected himself to a situation because of my promise, I simply could not break that.

Michael was easy to live with. We really did get along well. He loved the gifts of shoes, watches and things that he had while growing up but never did he venture toward anything intimate. I, on the other hand, was now fully out of financial control. Sure I made plenty of money but within a year I had reduced myself to spending money that I had not even made. I began to do what is known as check floating. For example I would cash a personal check at one of the company's stores for say $100 and then go another two days I later and cash a check for $150. Then I rushed to deposit the hundred into my account. Cashing checks like this was not unusual. My company never suspected a thing. The bank was slow on the up take, until one fateful day. I was working my normal overtime and the store was in full swing. The district manager walked in and shouted across the whole store.

"Rick if you don't have the money to cover this hundred and fifty dollar check this moment then you are fired!" Of course I didn't and he proceeded to have me relieved. I was to see the head of security the next morning at the main office. When I came home way early Michael asked what was wrong but still I kept the pretense going. Only this time I had no money to spend. So we spent the evening watching TV.

The next day came soon enough. I walked in and said to the humorless man; "I hope I am dressed well enough for a firing."

He replied, "Sit down".

I received a large sum of money because I never took paid sick day, or a vacation. I could resume my actions long enough to find another job. On the way home it hit me. Being fired meant that I was now out of the only industry that I knew. I was on the verge of losing my home and possibly becoming homeless. What a terrible time in life for this to happen I was 29 and had only a high school education. Most people don't know this but managers in those union shop grocery stores can make six figure incomes with only a high school diploma. I had been riding that wave for 16 years. Yes, I started at 14 with a special work permit. Now I had nothing and not even an ass to fuck for free. When I got home I told Michael that he had to make some other living arrangements. I figured that if I was frugal I had a month before all was over for my home. For a third time I was going to work over Michael's ass. This time I was crass in my approach. I handed him fifty dollars and told him to get undressed. After all he would need some cash so he could find a place to live.

There was no body worship. He didn't want it. I was in the mood for doing some grudge fucking. I barely wet my dick with spit before I forcefully plunged it in his ass in one thrust. Even still his butt went to work on me. I was determined to gain back for all the times I thought that I should have enjoyed. I bit down hard on my tongue and proceeded to fuck Michael for the next 4 hours. I allowed myself to cum only because my dick was sore. I could not have cared less about his condition and he was not the type to tell me anything. In two days Michael was gone.

I learned something about myself during this time. I was troubled by my behavior in blaming everything on Michael. I eventually took credit for my misbehavior and set out to punish myself. I had avoided the military during the draft years by simple fate. The president at that time wanted America to have a larger army and a 600 ship navy. I was in luck. They would take me and provide a new direction for me. I was going to leave behind my lifestyle and submit to a form of discipline that I was yet to learn. My joining the Navy was like a Frenchman joining the Foreign Legion. To do this I had to sell off all the things that made my luxury apartment a home. I had 10 days to do it in. I gave away things some of my friends lusted over such as my killer stereo. Everything had to go. The recruiter told me that I would only need a change of underwear and a tooth brush. Coincidently on my 29th birthday I was to be sworn in.

The night before my enlistment, I made a plan to take Michael for one final fuck. My apartment was empty but I kept a set of handcuffs, two champagne glasses and bought 4 bottles of fine bubbly to drink. Sure enough Michael came over. I know something about human curiosity. If there are handcuffs around people will put them on themselves and Michael did that. He quickly realized that the key was not close by. He asked me to remove the cuffs. I answered no, I stated that I was going to fuck him and not pay a damn dime. It was 10 pm at night and my neighbors were all at home. Michael started screaming as if I was about to murder him, or skin him, or something just a heinous. I told him to shut up and go with it, but he increased his volume. I panicked. I slapped his ass as hard as I could.

Damn! And I do mean God Damn. Wouldn't you know it, he stopped screaming and almost purred saying "fuck me daddy." I slapped his ass again and demanded that he get his ass out of his cloths. "Yes daddy" as he complied. What the fuck! All this time I was treating him like a prince and he wanted to be treated like a submissive slut. It was two hours before I even let him out of the handcuffs. We fucked and I spanked until the recruiter showed up at my door at 7am. His ass was in overdrive all night long. Each time I spanked him his inside motor rewarded me in ways I cannot describe other than saying that it was all good. Not spanking him was what I was doing wrong. I could eat his ass and he loved it as long as I spanked him first. Why did I have to learn this on the last day and totally by accident too? In this game of life the score is Eros two and Athena the goddess of wisdom comes in at one I learned a couple of things. One, never again to allow my desire to blind my life's vision. Two, if one idea is not working then try another. I will say that joining the Navy was the best thing that ever happened to me. I met my lover of 13 years. I got my college degree paid for. I took my stud act international, and I was over with Michael. I had new things to turn me on like horny, straight, military men. I came to realize that I can easily fuck a gay guy but to find my cock up a straight dude's ass was the shit and I do not mean literally. The advantage was mine. Being 29 and with my knowledge I was like the fox guarding the chicken coop when I joined the Navy.




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