My Own Place

The next morning I woke feeling rested, which was a stark contrast to the way I felt before I passed out. I still was a little confused at what had happened, but had no clear recollection. I decided to forget about it, and walked into the living room and sat down before my computer to check email and other assorted things.

I spun through my normal news website and saw nothing significant was happening in the world, and noticed no one had decided I was important enough to email. Bored much sooner than I'd expected, I just browsed around the web before finally settling on a porn site that I frequented.

Pulling up the usual images and videos was barely registering a twitch between my legs, so I started looking around areas I didn't normally investigate. There were masturbation videos and assorted fetish clips, but still nothing excited me. About to give up and go for a run, I came across the male section and stopped. This was a portion of the website dedicated to solo male masturbation for the most part. As I pulled up a couple of videos, I began to feel a familiar stir in my boxers. I began focusing on the cocks on the screen before me being stroked and played with. My free hand went down to caress my own stiffening cock.

I cycled through video after video, searching out larger and larger dicks. Circumcised, uncircumcised, shaved, and hairy; some attracted me more than others. Finally, I started watching one with an apparently older guy. He was uncircumcised, quite large and mostly hairless. I focused on how the foreskin moved up and down as he stroked himself. It didn't last long, and he finally came in a small fountain, dripping down his hand and the shaft of his cock. My own dick was rock hard at this point as I watched him spew his load and I found myself stroking my own dick watching another man stroke his. No women, no sex, not even any sound. As I thought about it, I was a little ashamed of myself, but figured that it's not like it was common knowledge. Still, it was undeniable that it turned me on.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and I was snapped out of my soul searching. I stood up and immediately realized I was wearing only boxers, and with a raging hard-on, it didn't conceal very much. I peaked around the corner and saw through the rectangular window aside the door, that it was Lloyd. I wondered what he needed repairing now. Thinking that it was only another guy, I simply adjusted myself so that my left arm pressed my hard-on into myself, hoping he wouldn't notice. And if he did, it's just another guy.

I opened the door a little less than halfway and greeted him. "Hi there. I just wanted to thank you for helping me out yesterday and to make sure you were alright. You looked a little bit woozy when you left," he said.

"Oh, I'm ok. Thanks for asking. I just woke up a little bit ago and I feel fine. I'm not really sure what happened, but it seems like everything's ok," I said.

"Well, good. I'd hate for something to happen to my personal repairman." He chuckled as he said it. I must have still been waking up and was a little slow to get the joke. I forced a little laugh in response, shifting my weight.

Scratching my head, I said, "Well, if you need anything, just let me know," and stepped back to close the door. He thanked me again, pausing a little as he walked away. I closed the door and as I turned, I realized that as I was talking to him, I changed hands while speaking. My semi-hard penis was poking straight out of my boxers. I wondered if he noticed, but I shrugged it off.

The day went on. I had errands to run and people to see. By the time I got back home it was late afternoon. After a solo dinner, it was looking like another boring night at home, so I plopped onto the couch in front of the TV. After flipping through the channels a few times, the palpable boredom and my short attention span drew me back to the computer.

I immediately resumed where I had left off earlier in the day. In no time at all I felt my cock strain in my pants as I watched strangers' dicks stroke before me and shoot their loads into the air. It didn't take long before I came across a video of a girl giving a well endowed guy a blowjob. I stared with rapt attention as she dove her head up and down his cock. Suddenly he pulled out of her mouth and shot his cum across her face. As the action before me slowed, I realized I had hastily pulled out my cock and was stroking it furiously, almost involuntarily. I couldn't tear my eyes from the way the on screen phallus jerked and spasmed. There was no doubt of my curiosity now. I was fixated not on the girl on the screen, but on this cock covering her pristine face in ropes of semen. My cock was as hard as diamond. I didn't want to cum yet, but to investigate more. I saw more videos of more cocks in different shapes and sizes, bends and girths. I was very much like a kid in a candy store.

I began to wonder what it would be like touch another cock. A very small part of me felt repulsed, as if I shouldn't be thinking these things, but the lion's share felt excitement and taboo. As I stroked my own cock, I gazed at the screen in front of me, excited to see another one facing me. It was like a sense of deja-vu. Something drove me to these desires, but I had never had an experience like this with another man, had I?

I ceased questioning myself, and fell into the pleasure of the moment. I felt like I wanted to experience this first hand. I was horny and ravenous. I rebelled against every repulsion that flickered through my head at the thought of sexual thoughts with other men, but the desire was undeniable. Suddenly, a knock at the door snapped me to attention.

"What the...is this going to happen every time I sit down?" I asked to the room. I quickly yanked my jeans back up, though the stiff hard-on inside was obvious. I went to the door and saw that it was Lloyd again. He had two beers in his hands. Reluctantly, I opened the door.

"Hey there!" he started. "I just wanted to say thanks again for your help yesterday. I figured I'd invite you for a couple neighborly beers between fellas," he said as he waved the ales in front of me. "Whad'ya say?"

I desperately wanted to get back to my newfound addiction, but didn't want to be rude, either. "Um, sure, I guess so," I stated.

"Ok, great. Come on over, then. Just come as you are." He said. He meant for me to come right then, apparently. I had some jeans on with no underwear, and no shirt, barefoot. I was about to go grab a shirt, and as I started to turn, he said, "No, really it's fine. Just come as you are." So I shrugged and followed him to his home adjoining mine.

I noticed he had straightened up a bit since my last visit. The furniture I had helped move was accompanied by new-looking modern tables and accoutrements, and there were more photos on the wall tastefully appointed. "You've made it look real nice in here," I said, looking around.

"Thanks. Couldn't have done it without you. Here," he said, offering me one of the beers in his hand, "cheers." We clinked glasses and sat down on the couch. I didn't know him well, so I didn't know how to start conversing, but he made me feel at ease, chatting about the weather, the local sports teams, and the like. He was into football as I was, and we had a common appreciation to the local club. The TV was playing in front of us, but neither one of us were paying attention to it. I was surprised at how well we got along.

After finishing the beer, he asked if I'd like another. I agreed, and he went into the kitchen for more. When he returned, we resumed talking about anything and everything. I was starting to feel a buzz coming on and relaxed further. I started talking more with my hands, and I'm sure I was getting louder. Lloyd was wearing a pair of loose fitting athletic shorts and a tank top. I noticed his hand drop to his crotch and adjust himself while we spoke.

I had another sense of deja-vu sitting here on the couch for some reason. I was seeing flashes of sex flicker through my mind, like a flashlight in the dark. That, coupled with the steadily increasing buzz I was feeling started getting me aroused. He continued talking and I was trying to pay attention, but the images kept coming. In addition, I kept noticing his hand on his crotch lightly adjust his package every so often. The light material of the shorts clearly outlined what I already knew was a very big penis. He was sitting on the couch next to me turned slightly facing me, with one knee up on the couch and the other foot on the ground, which exposed his crotch to me. I was focusing on our conversation as best I could, but could swear that he was subtly caressing his cock when I wasn't looking. It seemed as though his shorts were being slowly hiked up his leg, and as loose as they were, I could just make out the head of his penis poking out.

My own cock was straining against my jeans now and becoming uncomfortable. I shifted and tried to be nonchalant about adjusting myself, but it was near impossible to be stealthy about it. As I tugged at myself, he did the same. His cock was clearly getting larger. The head of his cock was now clearly poking out the bottom of his shorts. I could make out the thick foreskin pouting away from the end of his dick. I had no idea what he was saying at this point.

The rush I was feeling was like being drunk and experiencing a high at the same time. I was still trying to listen to him and not look down, but cock was in an awkward position in my jeans, pointing downward and a little under my leg. I couldn't reposition it without drawing attention to it. Finally I couldn't take it and said, "Excuse me" as I leaned back and thrust my hands in my jeans to grab my dick and pull it out from under my leg.

He stopped speaking, looked down at my crotch as I adjusted myself. His own hand went to his own cock and he stroked it through the light fabric of his shorts. I said, "Sorry. I was sort of sitting on it," trying to defend myself.

"Oh, that's ok," he said in response, no longer disguising his huge package. "You looked like you were a little uncomfortable there. That's why I don't wear underwear usually. It lets me move more freely," he said as he looked down at his crotch. "I'm sure it's a lot more comfortable than those jeans. I have more, you know. Why don't you try one on?"

I shook off the odd request. "No, it's ok. I'm much better now," I said. He tugged on his shorts, hiking them further up his thigh. The bulge was impressive beneath them. My less substantial cock was still straining against the relatively tight crotch of my jeans.

"I insist. Let me go grab a pair," he said, and he quickly got up. I tried in vain to stop him as he walked away, but it was no use. In moments, he returned with a pair of shorts similar to what he had on now. As he walked, his cock bounced from one thigh to the other. The shorts he presented were definitely larger than my 31 inch waist, and I was sure they'd fall right off me. "Here, try these on. You'll feel much better," he said.

"I think they're a bit too big, Lloyd," I said.

"Nonsense," he said. "Are you saying I'm fat, or something?"

I really thought the whole thing was ridiculous, but I didn't want to offend him, and in addition, the buzz I was feeling made me abandon any inhibitions I'd have otherwise felt. Plus it almost sounded like him calling me "chicken" for not doing it. I was still debating it, when he grabbed me by the arm and started pulling me to my feet. "Take those off," he said.

The way he grabbed me was a little bit playful but with enough force to know that for an older guy, he was a lot stronger than he appeared outwardly. I was quickly to my feet, and once there had a momentary swoon of head rush. Playing it off, I simply said, "Fine. Let's have'em," and I took them from his hands.

I paused for a moment and placed my hands on my knees, just trying to get the blood back in my head. He then straightened me upright and said, "Well, what are we waiting for?" Standing straight up made it a little worse. Lloyd appeared to be losing patience and said, "What are you, too good to change in front of another guy? What kind of man are you?" I started to reply when he grabbed the waist of my jeans, quickly unsnapping and unzipping the fly. He yanked them down past my knees and my hard penis bounced out, almost hitting him in the face.

"What the hell is this?" he asked. "You've got a hard-on? Does talking to older men get you hard or something?"

I tried to cover myself up, thoroughly embarrassed. "What? No!" I retorted quickly gathering myself. "You know how sometimes you just get one for no reason sometimes. It's nothing," I said, and quickly pulled my feet out of the crumpled jeans on the floor. I quickly yanked up the athletic shorts Lloyd had given me, and as I had suspected, saw that they were practically falling off me. The only part that held them on was the fact that my hard-on stuck straight out. "See?" I said. "They definitely don't fit."

"That," he started, "does not change the fact that you've got a stiffy right here in front of me. What are you, gay? You like looking at other guys' cocks? I've seen you looking at mine. Even right here on the couch, I saw you staring at it." His demeanor was changing. He was no longer the nice older gentleman next door, but a brutishly tough guy that was inching closer to where I stood. I stepped backward, the backs of my legs touching the couch.

"What's going on? It's no big deal," I responded, unsure of what exactly was going on. I was still heavily buzzed, and sliding deeper by the minute. He still inched toward me.

"I'll bet you're a fag, aren't you? That's why you don't have any girlfriends. You've been waiting for me to invite you over here so you can sneak peeks at my dick, aren't you?" he said as he grabbed his package through his shorts, shaking it menacingly as he spoke. He was so close now that my hard penis sticking straight out was touching his hand that held his own. He looked down. "Trying to touch your dick to mine, are you? Boy, you really are a queer, aren't you," he sneered.

"No, wait. I don't know what you're talking about, Lloyd. You know me..."

"Apparently not," he said, cutting me off. "All I see is some gay guy in front of me with a hard on for what I've got in my hand, here." He inched toward me again threateningly, and I, with nowhere to go, plopped backward onto the couch. "Ah," he said as he positioned his legs on either side of my own, "now you're trying to get more at eye-level with me. That right? You must want to see my cock pretty bad, boy."

"Lloyd, what the hell are you talking about? You asked me to come over here the way I was, remember?" I asked. My head was getting more and more blurred, almost like having tunnel vision. I was wondering what the alcohol content of those beers were. It was having a tremendous effect on me. I was feeling drunk, slightly dizzy, and incapacitated and the same time as having a heightened sense of awareness and excitement. My limbs felt heavy, but pulsing with energy at the same time.

"Look at your dick," he said. "It's sticking straight up like a little stick. Nothing like this tree I've got here. No wonder you want to see it so bad. You're feeling inadequate with that little tool of yours in your pants." He continued to pull on the organ behind his shorts. It was obviously getting bigger. "You want to see a real man's cock. Now it all makes sense. You're just a little gay fella that can't keep his eyes off my big dick here."

With his change in attitude, I had been watching his face as he spoke in such a threatening way, but now on the couch with him towering over me, I was at eye level with his penis. He still stroked it in front of me and as hard as I tried not to look, my eyes were drawn to it. My own cock ached and created a tent in my shorts. The way he was attempting to degrade me was embarrassing, but only called more attention to this obvious size difference between us both. I felt that the longer I sat here doing nothing only played into his hands, so I put my hands down on either side of me and started to stand, bumping into him slightly as I did so. The familiar dizziness poured over me as I reached my feet. His belly touched mine. I could feel and smell his breath on me and as he stroked his penis, his hand pressed against my own. I began to try and move to the side, but he easily blocked me, continuing to have his legs either side of mine. Each time his hand pressed against my stiff penis was like fire. I didn't want to seem submissive, but the feeling was so stimulating that I couldn't help myself.

"I think I should go, Lloyd," I said feebly. He inched toward me, his hips gently thrusting into mine.

"I don't think so," he said. "I want you to admit that you've been trying to look at my cock. You've been trying to steal glances at what a real man's dick looks like. Am I right?"

"No, Lloyd. I thought you were just being friendly," I said.

"I was being friendly," he said. "But you've been taking advantage of that, so you can see my cock. Just admit it." He pressed his body into mine. He was a good three to four inches taller than me, so his mouth was about at my nose level. It was all I could do to keep my balance and not fall back into the couch. The hand grasping his cock pressed into mine and grinded against me. "Admit that you've wanted to get a good look at this."

"I...I don't know what you are talking about," I stammered.

"Sure you do," he said in a low voice. "I'll bet you've been wondering what it feels like, haven't you? I'll wager you want to feel it right now, aren't you? To wrap your little gay hand around this big dick and feel it grow in your hand. Tell the truth!" he demanded.

As he spoke he pushed against me gently, and it was enough to get me to fall back into the couch. As I sat, he slipped his hand into his shorts. "Here, boy. You want to see this dick? Tell me. Tell me how bad you want it, you little bitch," he growled. I simply stared at his crotch, no longer able to look away from it. It was like he held a gun to my face. It was almost a form of fear that kept me riveted.

"No," I said, feigning willpower. "I need to go."

As I leaned forward to stand, he pushed his hips toward me and his hand, grasping his cock, pushed against my face. I fell back against the cushions. "Oh, so you want it in your mouth, do you? You are a little bitch aren't you? You trying to suck my cock, bitch? Is that what you're wanting?" he said. He then slipped both hands into the waistband of his shorts and pushed them down. They fell easily to the ground and a thick, veiny, uncircumcised penis waved before me. I was completely in awe. He had only tiny, thin bits of hair dotting the base. His testicles swung low and heavy between his thick legs. By my reckoning, he was about 8 inches at his current length, which was only beginning to harden. It arced away toward my own penis until he held it in his hand, pointing it toward me. He gently stroked the massive tool, pulling the thick, loose foreskin back and forth, exposing a bulbous mushroom head at the end of a very intimidating appendage.

He kicked aside his shorts and continued to caress himself before me. "Is this what you've been wanting to see?" he asked. "I'll be you've been jerking off at night waiting to touch it. No wonder since your own dick is so much smaller," he said, chuckling. "Let's see how much smaller that thing is."

He reached forward and grabbed me arm, hoisting me up to my feet again. He stepped back slightly and with one swift motion, yanked down the shorts that were falling off me anyway, exposing my own rock hard penis. It stood straight up at about six inches, a paltry contrast to the massive trunk he had before me. I tried to cover myself up and turn to the side, but he stopped me and pulled my hand away to meet his cock. "There, now you can feel it. Do you like how it feels, boy? It's like a dream come true, isn't it?" he said.