Voyeur

by Naughtygaywriter

25 Mar 2018 4922 readers Score 8.9 (45 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


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He doesn’t know I exist, but I know he does. I love looking at his clean cut boyish looks, his long slender six foot plus frame. He’s toned but not muscled with a high and tight butt I want to feast upon. He’s always fresh face with sandy brown hair that is kept to military standards faded up. I’ve encountered him enough to know he has a deep throaty voice that sends chills down my spine, yet he never sees me, actually sees me.

I see him though. I can tell you about the smooth line of his tanned body. His body is smooth with cute dime size reddish brown nipples perfectly pert on his not overly defined chest. A hint of happy trail moves down his flat stomach to a well-manicured bush and a thick, and I mean thick eight inch cut beast. The tip is darker and are a sharp contrast to his lily white thighs. It normally rests on his average size balls. Those too are hairless.

At the pool he’s a board shorts man. I think he should go nude with his stunning beauty and Colgate white smile, but he’s a bit of a prude outside closed doors. He dresses in button downs and slacks during the week and polos and cargo shorts during the weekend. When I see him in the gym, he wears an old tee shirt and sweat shorts. He wears boxer briefs underneath, but he doesn’t realize they only outline his meat like a vacuseal pack.

You would think he was a top, but no, he’s a versatile bottom. More bottom than top though. I’ve watched him feast on cocks that were undeniably inferior to his. He’d then present his ass in the most undignified manner for them to clumsily fuck. I almost can’t climax from jacking my own seven inches while I watch them from my perch in my window.

I first noticed him when I saw him moving in two months ago. I was outside tending to the buildings grounds. I’m the maintenance guy. I tend to all the apartments in the three buildings. I stay on the top floor with a perfect view of his apartment. He has the penthouse, as we call it. It’s a studio apartment with large spacious windows that he forgets to close. I think he likes me watching.

At home, he’s naked ninety percent of the time, that lovely piece of meat swinging like a pendulum as he moves from room to room. He always puts on some shorts when he goes out on the balcony to take his morning coffee on the weekends. When he showers, the beads of water hitting his smooth youthful skin, he sometimes fingers himself while stroking his beautiful cock. The window ends up fogging up and I can’t see him finish, damn condensation.

I guess you want to know about me, but I don’t see why you want to when I’m talking about the sexual god, but I’ll indulge you. I’m a stocky, scruffy middle aged man. I’m average, but can dress up nice if I want to, but I never have a reason to want to. I’m pretty nondescript as far as gay men are concerned.

I’m a good two twenty with a decent cock of six inches with huge meatballs that are always full. I’ve got a thick black forest of chest hair. Truth is, about the only place I don’t have hair is on my back and ass. I normally too lazy to shave and have a perpetual five o’clock shadow. I don’t manscape like my beauty, but I shave my head about once a month because I’m too lazy to go to a barber or bother doing my hair.

I’m a bear, a reclusive bear. People are not my thing, really. I do work out at the, but it just serves to keep up my beefy look rather than tone me up it seems. I refuse to give up my pizza rolls, my fast food or my cookies. Life is about living not denying oneself of joys. Now I have a new joy. Watching my beauty from my window, displaying himself for me to shoot my load after load at night.

My bedroom looks right into his, straight down. I can see everything without any aid, well unless I want a close up. That first night is when I saw him. I was getting ready for bed, about to close the curtains when I looked down and saw him. He was naked, fresh out the shower, boxes everywhere. He was naked, tight toned muscles displayed for me. He rummaged through a box, showing me that perfect rose bud. How I wanted to sniff that rose.

He pulled out lube and a long thick dildo. I watch as he sat the lube on the nightstand and sat on the bed, mesmerized by the latex toy. He looked at it with love in his eyes and I watched as he licked the veiny trinket from the base to the tip. I grew instantly hard when he ran his tongue around the tip and then sucked into his mouth.

I watched from my darkened window as he sucked down the facsimile cock down a good six inches. I almost didn’t notice his own cock growing to life as he made out with the fake. I slipped my thick six inches out of the hole in my boxers, spit in my hand and began humping my fist in time with him. My eyes darted from the fake to the real, wondering why he never touched his cock, and then he showed me.

He pulled the latex novelty from his mouth and popped the top on the lube, slicking it up. I groaned when he leaned back and pulled his legs up and fumbled to with both hands to push it into his perfect ass. I moaned as I watched inch by inch, at least eight inches, disappear between his cheeks. He pulled out slowly then pressed back in, trying to take more but stopping at that eight inch mark.

He still did not touch his dick as he fucked himself but I stroked myself imagining myself between those raised legs, pounding that pretty boy’s white ass. He picked up his rhythm and so did I. I could see the sexual gratification spread across his face as he pumped himself over and over again.

I imagined myself between those strong long legs, slamming into his tight end, feeling the warm feeling of his ass clamp around my hard dick, watching his face contort to pleasure I was giving him, not that synthetic flesh spreading him wide open. My balls slapping against my hands are a pale imitation to how they would feel bouncing off that smooth flesh.

He rolls over onto his stomach, the dildo never leaving his ass. He’s propped up on his knees, his ass to the window, and I’m seeing his ass lips spread around the dildo. He reaches back and fucks himself a bit harder, his other hand finally taking this dick and he strokes it as he fucks himself hard.

My fingers crave to dig into those hips as I pull him back into me, his cheeks jiggling as he bounces off my hips. I tighten my grip on my dick as I imagine he would as I invade his ass. Thrust, pump thrust. We align in motion. He’s bringing me to the brink. I feel it churning in my balls. I can’t keep up with my youthful stud. I’m about to blow.

He keeps a steady pace. His back arches, as he gets another inch or so in. He’s driving me crazy. I lick my lips, increase my thrusts. “Come on, baby.” I whisper softly. “Get daddy off.” My eyes roll back in my head as the climatic explosion shoots out of me, splattering my window with my juices. It lands just where his ass is in my view. I’m panting, a small bead of sweat drips from my nose.

He’s still fucking himself. I watch him through the dribbling of my white down my window. I reach out a finger and run it over the sight of his ass, pretending I’m fingering his cummy hole. I bring my finger to my lips and taste myself as I continue to watch my tall stud continue to fuck himself. “Come on, baby, cum for daddy.” I want to reach out and smack that ass, give him incentive to give me the climatic end of the show.

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, but probably was only three minutes, he pulls the dildo from is ass, roles over on this back and beats off furiously, his feet together, forming a little diamond. His face reddens and then bolt after bolt of white boy juice splatters across his stomach. I want to lap it up, but I do the next best thing and drop to my knees and lick the window where my own salty load remains.

I see him, scoop up his load and taste it. “Yeah,” I sneer, “eat your load, you dirty boy. You dirty little whore.” He’s licking his fingers clean getting every last bit he can into his mouth. I watch as he lays, exhausted down below me, his hands to the sides, legs, dangling over the bed. He’s spent, and all I want to do is just pull him into my arms and tell him what a good boy he is.

I leave him to his private moment, allow him to rest and recover. I take a tissue from my night stand and wipe the last drips from my window. I glance down and see my boy has turned out his light and gone to bed. “Good night, sweet thing.” I say softly. “You did good, get some rest.” With that I crawled into my bed, drifting off to sleep wondering what it would be like to spoon him in the night.

The next morning, I watched as he woke in the morning light, stretching his long lithe body. He slept nude and didn’t bother covering himself even after aiming his hose into the toilet bowl and releasing a torrent of piss into the crystal clear water. He even sipped his morning coffee butt ass naked leaning against the counter, looking at all the boxes he had yet to unpack. I left him be when he poured his second cup and then slipped on a pair of sweats. “Daddy has to work boy.” I said to myself. “Be good and get your place settled.”

My mind kept wandering back to my boy alone in his apartment getting settled. I contemplated stopping by, but I knew he needed to get settled. He’d eventually invite me over to tend to some minor maintenance thing he couldn’t handle. New tenants always did. With three apartment buildings to maintain, my days were filled with leaky faucets, blown bulbs and the occasional lawn care.

That night I watched him meticulously clean himself inside and out. My boy was preparing for another show for me, or so I thought. An hour or so later a squat bulldog of a man came to his door. A compact man with a painted on shirt and jeans that did nothing to hide his well-muscled body. He only came to my boy’s chest level, so I guessed him to be five foot eight or so. He looked like one of the frat boy scum that left apartments trashed and filthy that I had to fix and clean after they were kicked out.

I watched as they sat at the kitchen table, casually talking for a bit before frat boy stood up and whipped his beer can cock out. I could see that it was thick and dark with a massive mushroom head. I imagined it to be veiny and smooth. My boy licked his lips then stretched his luscious red lips over the tip. Frat boy let out what I imagined was a groan as one hand pulled up the bottom of his shirt, revealing chiseled porn star abs, the other hand on the back of my boy’s head, pushing him further and further down on his fuck stick.

My nostrils flared angrily as I watched the scene unfold. Frat boy was fucking my boy’s mouth, causing him to gag on the whore dick with every pelvic thrust. My boy was cheating on the special thing we had just begun. Cheating on me with this pathetic excuse of a human being that didn’t deserve the sanctity of my boy’s body.

Anger flooded me then a calm as I realized what my boy was doing. He was using this man with his perfect body and jumbo cock to show me. He was showing me what we could have, what he wanted from me. He didn’t know how to say the words, how to tell me, so he had to show me. That’s what he was doing. My heart warmed and my cock hardened as I resumed watching with renewed interest.

Frat boy’s pants had pooled around his ankles. He ass now sat upon the table as he leaned back against it. His shirt was now discarded revealing the sun bronzed skin and the almond brown nipples he was now strumming with his hands as my boy buried himself in hard hairless flesh of frat boy’s groin.

I imagined I could hear the moans escaping frat boy’s pouty little mouth, pretending they were mine as I gripped my hard cock through the thin fabric of my boxers. I bit my upper lip, clumsily fishing out my cock from my boxers, acting as if I was presenting it to my sexy boy. I gripped my cock, stroking it in time with his slow languid bobs on frat boy’s engorged cock.

After a while, frat boy pulled his cock from my boy’s mouth. He says something and my boy opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out. I watch as the fat slab of meat beats down on his tongue then across those smooth boyish cheeks. Frat boy then slams roughly into my boy’s waiting throat. He skull fucks my boy, my pretty boy, using his mouth like some living jack off toy.

My boy’s face reddens as he tries to take it. My hand rapidly slides across my own slicked length in time with Frat boy’s minute or so onslaught. He yanks his prick free then leans down and shoves his tongue into my boy’s puffy lipped mouth. The kiss is awkward and sloppy, my boy craning his long lean neck up to take frat boy’s kiss.

The kiss breaks as frat boy pulls off my boy’s shirt, showing that delicious skin and tiny pert nipples. I missed when frat boy kicked off his shoes and pants, but I’m not watching him. He pulls my precious boy up and moves him against the table. Frat boy’s mouth latches onto one of the pert nipples, one hand behind my boy’s back, holding him close, the other rubbing the noticeable excitement in his pants.

He undid my boy’s shorts, exposing the lump in his gray boxer briefs. We’d have to change that boring underwear soon. It’s either something slick n sexy or nothing. My beautiful boy leaned back, arched by frat boy’s hand, moaning as the hand stroked him and the mouth teased him. One nipple, then the other, all the while his cock wetting the fabric of the ugly underwear with its excitement.

Underwear and shorts are pushed down his long lean legs exposing that delicious sausage. I lick my lips as frat boy sits on the chair and begins flicking his tongue over the head. Soon he’s deep throating my boy, who offers no resistance, no guidance, just leans back and takes it like a good boy. Frat boy is enjoying the feel of my boy in his mouth, he’s obviously a professional and has no problem throating him down.

“He doesn’t want that.” I groan, feeling my own cock begin to soften. As if on queue, frat boy turns my boy around and feasts upon the glory of his ass. He spreads the cheeks with gentle care, then dives in, tongue fucking my boy. My precious boy grips the ends of the table and arches his back, his legs spread and bend to allow frat boy more access.

There’s no finesse in his tongue fucking. My boy’s face, though he obviously is moaning, his face betrays his boredom. Frat boy is totally into it, pressing his face in between the cheeks, lashing his tongue back and forth, pulling out a bit the pressing his face back in. He has technique, but his tongue isn’t want my boy want, what he needs.

I bet my boy’s ass taste prime. Hot young boy musk mixed with innocent and desire. That smooth taunt skin stretched open to show the delicious prize. I imagine running my whiskered face over his silky boy butt, leaving delightful red scratches across the white skin. My boy would love that more than that smooth chiseled face munching on his ass like it was some sort of snack.

I saw the look in my boy’s face as he turned and mouth the words, “Fuck me.” I imagined it came out a whine. A beg. A plea. Almost an order. Frat boy stood, and lined up against my crouching boy. It took a little maneuvering with the difference in height. He let a wad of spit drip from his mouth to his cock head and began the press against my boy’s tight hole. I watched my boy’s back arch as he pressed back into him.

Frat boy slipped in with ease, the contrast of his tanned skin against the alabaster white of my boy’s butt, my boy’s delicious, perfect pert butt. My boy gripped the sides of the table as frat boy slid in and out slowly, allowing my boy to adjust to the heathen cock in him. He held my boy by the hips, keeping him wedged on the thick bastard cock.

The pace quickens, the slap of skin must be filling the room, mixed with the false moans of my boy, who is only doing this to show me what he must do till I decide he’ll be mine. He matches the rhythm of the frat boy, bouncing back against each thrust, trying to get him deeper. The need in him is great, to feel a cock, no matter whose it is, in him till he can finally feel me inside him.

The thought of me slamming into him, feeling that boy butt slamming into my hips, is churning my balls. I want to feel him massaging my cock with his ass muscles, I want to fill him with my seed and leave him dirty to absorb my seed, my gift into him, make him part of me. I can’t hold back and soon my load explodes across the window, yet again. Ropes of sticky white wasted cum trail down the glass as my boy still takes that asshole frat boy’s dick.

In the moments of my orgasmic bliss, I lost sight of my scene below me. My boy is now on his back on the table, his legs pressed back against his chest. Frat boy is just pounding away. My boy’s cock is flopping hard, but he does not touch it, like a good boy, waiting for the top to finish before he finishes himself off.

Frat boy is close. I can tell. His muscled ass is clenched, pounding into my boy without any regard. He needs to be taught how to properly fuck, well properly fuck my boy. My boy is clutching the table, to keep from being pushed down the table, his eyes are closed, and fake moans climbing out of his throat as the cock invades him. Frat boy is doing quick deep thrusts, barely pulling out before slamming back in.

He’s close, real close and then without a warning to me his face contorts and the thrusts are so quick I almost can’t tell if he’s fucking him or just resting his cock in my boy. A silent scream leaves his mouth and I know he’s leaving his horrid seed in my boy, draining those hairless bull balls in my boy. He rests a bit, letting the last bits of him seep out.

He pulls out and taps by boy on his taunt stomach and mouths a thank you. My boy lays on the table, lost in the fuck, he starts stroking his own load out as frat boy begins to get dressed. He offers no help, no encouragement as my boy brings himself off quickly. His cock erupts with volley after volley of white precious boy cream.

Frat boy is already dressed, having tucked his cock away in the too tight pants. He leaves, my boy left on the table coated in and out in cum. He lay there, splayed out for me to admire, on the table. I was going to have him on that table, soon. Have him for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He would be my personal fuck toy and all you can eat buffet. I just had to arrange it so that it would come to pass with his whorish consent.

I left my boy to his own clean up while I did my own. He looked so perfect, splayed out on the table for feasting. Spent, covered in spunk, leaking another’s man’s juices from his ass. I would have to teach him not to be a whore like that. Men, other than me, would have to be approved of before they could use him like the cheap fucking whore he is.

The next night he had a group of men over, a house warming of sorts. I expected to it turn into some drunken orgy with my boy at the center, sucking all of their unfit cocks, but they ventured out for a bar, I guess around ten. I waited up for him, worried that he may not get home safe. Around two he was dumped from a car and he staggered, drunk, into his apartment and then into his bed where he passed out.

He slept late the next day and I grew tired of waiting for him to wake up. I hit the gym, something I had skipped the past couple of days since he had arrived. I was finishing my workout and was busy on the elliptical when I saw him groggily come in, to my gym, of all places. I watched as he headed to the back to stow his stuff in the locker room.

He came out in basketball shorts and an old tee. He popped in his ear buds and hopped on the treadmill almost directly in front of me. My eyes stayed glued on those perfectly rounded orbs as he turned on the speed. I cursed inwardly when my machine announced with an annoying beep that I was done while my luscious boy was still running.

I left, reluctantly as I had to get to my duties, but knew I would be planning my days around his routine from now on. It was easy to figure out when he was working and working out. He worked Monday through Friday. He left every morning at seven on the dot to head to work. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he would run after work, his body coated in a sheen of delectable boy sweat.

Sunday, Tuesdays, Thursdays, Friday nights and Saturdays, he would hit the gym. Friday nights, after the gym, he would have some random guy come over, use his mouth and ass, then lay there and finish himself off. Once or twice he would flip the script and pound some poor unsuspecting man, sliding his long cock deep into the man’s gut. My boy didn’t believe in condoms, from what I could tell. He liked it raw, natural, and so did the men he had over.

One Friday night I decided to hit the gym. I knew my boy would be there, but I was needing to work out some frustration. I did my best to ignore him as I went through my routine, randomly going from exercise to exercise. The gym was empty aside from me, my boy and an older muscle gym bunny I’d seen in the bars once or twice.

I saw muscle bunny disappear into the locker room. A few minutes later, my boy followed. I grew suspicious, knowing the type of slut my boy could be and knew the reputation of the gym bunny. He was older, thickly muscled with a shaved head and furry chest that shown through his tank tops. I tried striking up a conversation with him once or twice but each time he brushed me off, practically telling me I was out of his league for even friendship.

I turned the corner and there they were. My boy pressed against the lockers, his shirt off and gym bunny chewing on his nipple. “We’ll get caught.” I heard my cautious boy say as he enjoyed the rough toying of his body. “Are you sure, there’s that guy out there.” Gym bunny ignored him as he lowered my boy’s shorts and tight underwear revealing that magnificent cock. My boy moaned, as gym bunny moved to the other neglected nipple.

I was off in a distance, just out of sight. If they turned their heads, they’d see me, but they stayed focused on themselves. “That troll doesn’t come in here.” Gym bunny growled kissing his way down my boy’s stomach. “Sides, who cares if he does, I don’t care if anyone watches.” With that, he swallowed my boy down sucking him with ease down to the base of his cock.

Gym bunny had one hand firmly on my boy’s ass, the other fondling his balls, as he deep throated my boy. He was an expert, per the rumors, at getting guys off. I’d heard through the grapevine that his nickname was slurp in the gym. Now I saw why. He let not one drop escape him as he swallowed my boy’s cock down, pulling him into his greedy mouth.

“Come on, baby, give me that protein, I need it.” He said pulling off my boy for a moment before swallowing him back down. I knew my boy wouldn’t get off like this, as nice as it felt, he liked something in his ass. Just as I thought it, gym bunny must have slipped a wet finger into my boy. He let out a gasp and began riding gym bunny’s hand and mouth simultaneously. Soon his thrust back and forth picked up and then with a muffled cry, blew his load into the vacuous mouth before him.

Gym bunny withdrew his hand from my boy’s ass, still suckling the last drips from his cock. My boy’s legs looked weak, unsteady, as he fell back onto the lockers. I watched as his cock fell from gym bunny’s mouth, not a hint of spillage on his smiling face. “Thank you. I told you no one would catch us.”

I quietly pulled back from the scene and slipped out the locker room with barely a sound. I grabbed my gear and left. I couldn’t believe that my boy, my beautiful precious boy was such a slut. It angered me as much as it turned me on. This was much as my fault as his. He was only acting out because I wasn’t giving him what he wanted, needed at home. I would have to change that.

I watched the coming weeks, coating my window with a small film of protein residue as he took man after man into his apartment and gave up what was mine. If he played again in the gym, it was when I was not there. I steadied watched him, planning my move to give him what he really wanted, what he desired. My plan formulated in my head, knowing my boy’s kinky side.

I found my boy on his hunting app. I changed my profile to suit what he thought he wanted, not disclosing much about me, but the truth, in away. I was five foot eight, I did go to the gym six to seven days a week. I worked with my hands and I was a rugged man, and for my boy I’d be a top. I used a picture of me from behind that hid all those flaws he’d soon overlook. I was going to have him.

I messaged him, “Hey sexy boy.” My heart raced as I awaited his response. I watched through the window as he picked up the phone and looked at the message. He seemed hesitant to respond, but finally answered back with a “Hey.” I had him. I knew it. “You look fucking sexy in that pic man, think I could get to see it in person sometime?”

He paused, then sent, “Stats? Face pic?” I smiled to myself, knowing I was prepared for this. “5’8” 220 stocky muscled build, go to the gym six to seven days a week, got a thick seven that would look pretty between your lips.” Then I sent a picture of me from a few years ago, clean shaven and preppy, sixty pounds lighter.

We made plans for that Friday night. He liked my kinky idea. I wanted him naked on his table, blindfolded, his ass out for me to find. I’d bind his hands to the table and begin. There’d be no words, no talking, just him naked for me to use and abuse and if he enjoyed it, we’d do it again. He sent a picture of his blindfold and I sent a picture of the rope I was going to use to bind him.

That day, I found an excuse to go in his apartment and set the ropes in their place, tucked away under the table where he would not see them. I wanted him tied up quick and didn’t plan on taking them back with me. I showered and manscaped as much as I could without shaving off all my pubes. I had to be perfect for my boy’s experience. My balls were smooth, my pubes, trimmed down close.

My boy got home from the gym that evening. He messaged me telling me he’d be ready in twenty minutes, along with his address. I messaged back I’d be there in twenty to send me a message when he had the door unlocked and the blindfold on. He said ok, then rushed into the shower and cleaned all that lovely stank off him and thoroughly cleaned out for me.

I watched the clock, as he rushed around laying the blindfold on the table. My cock ached knowing soon it would be buried in my beautiful boy’s ass. I messaged him, downstairs, and he paused to check the door, making sure it was unlocked. He grabbed his phone and responded, “Ready, come fuck me, man.”

I sat the phone down, as he put his own away in his room, then brought the lube out and sat it on the chair. He slipped on the mask and laid down on the table just like he had when I first saw frat boy fuck him. I rushed out my building and into his building. My hand trembled as I pushed open the door and shut it behind me.

He moved his head in acknowledgment of me being there and I cautiously moved toward him. I ran a hand over his long back down his arm before pulling the rope from its hiding place and locking his arm in place, then the other. I did the same to his thighs, keeping him spread and open, and finally pulling the rope over his midsection, locking him down onto the table. “What the fuck?” He said testing the bonds, but I answered with a quick and hard smack on his ass.

He grunted a sorry. I continued, running my hands over his body, admiring the smooth taunt skin that would soon be mine to taste. My fingertips danced lightly over his skin, guiding me to those perfect pert orbs that were finally, finally mine to taste, to savor, to enjoy. I took up position behind him, my hands gliding over his ass.

I saw my boy shiver with anticipation. I sat down in the chair, staring into the tasty morsel that would soon hold my cock in it. I leaned in and kissed the left cheek, leaving a wet mark on it then the right. Just as I had envisioned, I ran my scraggily beard over the soft skin, scratching it up nicely before pulling those cheeks apart and diving in.

I was shocked by how sweet and savory his boy hole was. My tongue worked in deep, my whiskers scraping his soft supple skin. I heard the moans and groans coming from my boy as I fought every urge to make a sound. Up, down, in, out, left to right and round and round, I worked my tongue in as many random patterns as I could, getting my boy’s hole sloppy wet.

I spread those pert cheeks as far as I could, digging my fingers into the muscles as I fed my hunger for his body. My beard filled with his taste, filled with his scent. I’d be smelling and tasting him for days if I was careful enough. I dug in deep with my tongue, showing my boy what a real ass eating was.

My cock demanded its turn in my pants and I pulled back from him, knowing that soon, we’d both be feeling another pleasure. I clumsily undid my pants and shucked them and my underwear down to my ankles. I took a squirt of lube and slicked up my hard thick seven and aimed at that boy’s bull’s eye.

I pressed into the velvety goodness with ease. He was prepared for me and swallowed my cock to the base without a problem. His insides enveloped my shaft and softly hugged it tight. I fought every urge I had to blow right there. I slowly, pumped in and out of him, relishing in the feel of his ass around my cock. My boy let out a low moan of pleasure as I stroked his insides.

I knew I wouldn’t last long in this beautiful boy’s butt. I didn’t care. I fucked him, hard. I knew he would take it and I needed it. In and out I thrust hard, needing him to know that when he wanted it, needed it rough, I was there for him to satisfy that need. My balls tightened and with muffled grunt, I shot my load in him, my hands digging into his waist as I climaxed deep into him.

I pulled out with a shudder, watching the white goo drip from his ass. I wouldn’t be like the others. I dropped down to my knees and sucked on his hard cock, nursing it like a calf, tasting his ambrosia as it leaked from the tip. I heard him begin to pant.  Like gym bunny had, I slipped a finger into his creamed hole and began playing with the cum in him. I felt the expand of his cock quick enough and down my gullet went his load.

I swallowed and nursed till he was too sensitive for it. He was in me and I was in him. I scooted out from underneath and dressed. He was panting, breathless from the climax. I knew I had but a few moments for him to regain composure. I quickly did up my pants and undid one hand before bolting out the apartment. I was in my own apartment in minutes, breathless from the hurried pace, watching him.

He lay there still tied, struggling to slip from the binds I had placed around him. He had both hands free now, and was slipping out from the middle. His ass still dripped my present. He freed himself then looked around, the blindfold gone long before I had gotten home. He went and grabbed his phone, sending me a message, “What the fuck man, you left me tied up!” I grabbed my phone then deleted the account. I wouldn’t be using it agian.

I watched the face of my body fall as he saw he could never message me again. Then I watched as he went to his television and began rewinding something. Fuck, he recorded it. How did I not know? He must have recorded every encounter he had, that’s why they always fucked on the kitchen table.

He sat on the couch, watching, rubbing his cock again to life, stroking it to the scene of us. His other hand went between his legs and began playing with his hole. Soon he was coaxing out another load, blasting thick ropes out across his skin. I smiled, knowing I did that for him. Then it hit me that he knew who I was. “Fuck.”

I panicked and the next day I did my best to avoid him at the complex and in the gym. I still watched him from my window, but he did not bring anyone over the next week or the week after. I was certain he had forgotten about me when I got a work order to fix a sink in his apartment. I dreaded the call, certain he’d be home when I went in.

I knocked twice, then let myself in. I went to the kitchen sink and hurriedly got under it, determined I was going to get this job done quickly. Someone had just shut the water off and I quickly turned it back on, scooted out to find my boy standing there, waiting. I was dumbfounded and simply said, “The sink’s fixed.” My eyes downcast hoping he wouldn’t recognize me.

“That’s not the plumbing I needed fixed.” He walked over to me, his excitement obvious. “You like watching me, don’t you.” He slipped his shorts down, exposing his hard cock. “I like you watching, up there from your window, where you don’t think anyone can see you. I also liked my dick sucked, but as you’ve seen, most men don’t bother with my needs after they are done.”

He was pressed close to me. “Get on your needs and service me.” He ordered and I did without question. “From now on, after I get fucked, you come over and pleasure me.” I swallowed him down willingly. “That’s it baby. I’ll keep the shows up as long as you suck my load out of me like that gym slut did that night you saw me.”

That’s how I became my boy’s willing pleasure. He would let me watch from my window and when he was done with whatever stud he had over, he’d have me come over to get him off. I would savor his flavor on my tongue. Sometimes he’d have me stand over him and jack off on his ass then eat it out before sucking him off. Sometimes he’d have me naked on all fours, sucking his balls while he finished himself off.

He made it very clear over that next year till he moved out, that I was just a masturbatory device. The men used him, and he used me in turn. I was never happier than when he was buried balls deep in my throat, or I got to clean the remnants from his freshly creamed ass. I was just his toy that he order about, his personal cum receptacle and I was happy to be it.

by Naughtygaywriter

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