My Fantasies Ch. 08

"Mister Z?" I asked.

"Mister Zaphirakis, the owner of the house, you silly-willy," he said.

I'm a perceptive guy, and in that first minute with him I was convinced he had to be a fag.

Now I'm an open-minded kind-of-guy - I don't have anything against fags and queers as long as they leave me alone. If they want to prance around and act all limp-wristed and faggoty that's their business!

Besides, after driving five-hundred miles a cold beer sounded real good.

"Oh, okay, thanks," I said. "I'm going to go in and unlock my door."

"Okie-dokie, I'll meet you at your car!" he chirped and bounded off the porch and ran to my car with his hands and wrists flailing around like a girl.

Oh yeah, I thought, he's DEFINITELY a fudge-packer!

***

I only had four boxes and a suitcase so it didn't take long at all with his help. He even helped unpack the boxes.

Normally I don't like other people touching my stuff but for some odd reason it didn't bother me with him. I wondered if it was because he's gay and isn't that part of what gay guys do?

My spirits soared when he returned from his apartment not with a couple beers, but a six-pack.

"Timmy, you're a lifesaver," I said smiling when he came into my bedroom and handed me a cold beer.

I popped the top, turned my back and guzzled down a third of the beer.

I heard his excited voice cry out, "Lookie-lookie, Johnny, you and I wear the same undies!"

Huh? What? I turned and saw him holding up my yellow, string bikini briefs. It was my turn to blush a deep red.

He sensed my embarrassment and said, "Don't be such a silly-willy, they're cute and sexy...and when I wear mine, the bulge in the crotch gives me the illusion my junk is a lot bigger than what it really is!"

I blushed an even deeper red. He'd nailed it on the head. I wear them for just that reason, too!

I was frozen in place while he scurried about the bedroom putting away my clothes.

"I'll put your boy-panties in the top drawer, okay Johnny?" he said.

Instant flashback: I shared an apartment with my best friend after high school and he accidentally caught me wearing my briefs in the hallway between my bedroom and the bathroom.

"My God, John, you wear panties?" he'd said and burst out laughing.

My face turned deep red and I vehemently protested, "They're NOT panties -- they're men's cotton briefs -- I buy them in the MEN'S department!"

I heard Little Timmy's voice say, "I see yours are all cotton -- have you ever worn the nylon ones? Oh my goodness, those feel WONDERFUL down there!!"

My God, what a little fairy, I thought but maintained my composure and simply answered, "Uh-no, no I haven't worn those -- I'm not a woman or a fag, you know!"

***

When I was all moved-in we sat on the sofa and worked on the rest of the beer.

You know, once I got accustomed to his faggy voice and effeminate mannerisms he turned out to be an okay guy -- even likable. He was very funny and quite intelligent -- it was all I could do to keep up with my side of the conversation.

When we finished the beer, he said, "Johnny, I've got some liquor at my place if you're interested?"

"Oh, okay, great," I anxiously replied. I was catching a good buzz and didn't want to have to quit drinking.

He looked at my jeans and said, "It's kinda hot upstairs, you might want to change into shorts or something cooler."

"You know, being from up north and all, I've never owned a pair of shorts," I said.

He chuckled and said, "I guess not -- don't worry, I've got some things that might fit you, Johnny" and I followed him out my door, up the stairs and into his apartment.

I guess I would just have to live with him calling me 'Johnny.'

Him being queer and all I expected his place to be immaculate with dainty little trinkets and do-dads spread around with bright, girly colors. Not so. His apartment looked like any other normal guys messy place. He even had a black leather sofa.

"Nice place," I said to him.

"Yeah, I like it," he replied. "Come into my bedroom, I think I can find something you can wear."

Uh-oh, his bedroom? Here it comes -- he's gonna start trying to convert me! Hahaha...

I reluctantly followed him into the bedroom only to be surprised one more time by all the manly furnishings. Nothing feminine about it.

What kind of queer is this guy? I wondered.

Little Timmy rummaged thru a bottom drawer and pulled out what looked like yellow gym shorts.

"Nothing of mine will fit you and the only other things I have belonged to my old girlfriend," he said handing me the gym shorts. "Here, try this on."

Huh? His old 'girlfriend'?

He suddenly added: "Oh hey, remember those undies I mentioned?" then rummaged thru the drawer again and pulled out a yellow nylon, string bikini brief and gave it to me. "Put this on, too! You can change in the bathroom over there."

"Oh, okay, thanks," I said and walked into maybe the biggest bathroom I'd ever seen.

It not only had a large bathtub, but a marble shower stall on the other side of the room as well. There was a fancy toilet and next to it an appliance I'd never seen before. It had a spray nozzle pointing upwards from a large bowl. What is that? I wondered.

I almost fell tugging off my jeans. In my inebriated state I didn't even question why I had to change out of my briefs into the nylon ones he gave me. I wasn't going to strip-off my undies until I caressed the nylon material of the yellow briefs and became intrigued at how they'd feel against 'my boys.'

Oh, what the hell, I thought, and shoved down my cotton undies and slipped the nylon briefs up into place. Oh-my-God, they did feel, like Timmy had said, WONDERFUL!!

Too wonderful -- I sprung a boner inside them. I can't wear these, I thought.

Suddenly I heard three sharp knocks on the door and Little Timmy called out, "Are you alright in there, Johnny? Is everything okay?"

I was afraid he'd come inside so I quickly pulled the yellow gym shorts up into place.

When I opened the door he said, "Here, I found this shirt you can wear - take off your shirt, Johnny!"

"Huh? What's wrong with the one I'm wearing?" I asked.

It's like he didn't hear me.

"Take your shirt off and I'll put your clothes in the washer, okay?" he said matter-of-factly.

In my alcoholic haze I simply said, "Okay" and peeled my polo shirt up and over my head. He snatched it from my hands, picked up my jeans and briefs and left me awkwardly standing there.

Even the yellow tee shirt was made of nylon. I struggled pulling it over my head. It didn't fit. It only hung down just above my belly button. Not only that, it was so tight my hardened nipples obscenely poked out the sensuous material.

I looked in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the little faggot dressed all in yellow.

I called out, "Timmy, I can't wear these -- I look like a sissy fagboy!"

He came to the door, looked me up and down and said, "You look nice -- now quit being such a silly-willy -- there's a tumbler full of Jack Daniels waiting for you in the living room!"

"Oh, okay, great!" I replied then pointed to the strange porcelain bowl next to the toilet and asked him, "What is that?"

The smile returned to his face. "That's a bidet -- my lovers squat over it and wash my cum out of their pussies!"

Pussies? Oh my, I couldn't have been more wrong about his sexuality, could I?

***

My damn boner just wouldn't go down. The sleek and smooth nylon material seemed to cling to my dick and balls.

Luckily, Little Timmy had me walk in front of him to the living room so he couldn't see my hard-on. He went into the kitchen while I plopped down on the luscious, black leather sofa.

I looked to the kitchen and when I knew he couldn't see me, I looked at my crotch.

Oh good, I thought, feeling relieved. My prick was hard, but it was trapped inside the briefs and not poking out the front of the gym shorts. That's the only advantage of having a small dick that I know of.

Little Timmy sat directly beside me and handed me the drink. My hands were trembling so badly I almost spilled some, but I took two huge gulps which immediately calmed my nerves.

"You're a really cute boy, Johnny, I'll bet you have no problems getting girls!" he said.

I mumbled, "Well, not usually..."

"I know you just got to town, but when was the last time you got laid? What? The night before you left on your trip?" he asked me point blank.

Damn, I blushed again! "Well, nooo, it's been awhile..." I softly said.

Oh, come on now, a cutie like you must have had girls throwing themselves at you!"

I was getting uncomfortable with this topic and wanted to end it.

I blurted out, "A year -- it's been over a year!"

"WHAT? NO WAY!" he exclaimed.

"Afraid so," I said.

"It's been a long time for me, too," he softly said.

I took two more huge swallows of liquor and said, "Can we change the subject?"

***

Little Timmy was right about how hot it was inside his apartment. I was beginning to perspire and at one point he exclaimed, "Damn, it's hot in here!" and excused himself and left the room. When he returned he wore only navy blue gym shorts and nothing else.

I wasn't surprised at all - it was so hot his lack of a shirt made perfect sense to me.

I discovered early on that Little Timmy was one of those touchy-feely kind of guys. You know the type: whenever they talk they have to place a hand on your body to make a point. Most of them usually touch my back or arm which Little Timmy began doing, but when he said something funny he gently slapped my bare leg just above the knee. I still didn't think anything was unusual.

He suddenly opened the drawer of his coffee table and pulled out a joint.

"Johnny, you really have to try this stuff -- it's the best -- the best, Johnny! Okay?"

The liquor was getting me so buzzed I thought weed might help straighten me out.

"Okay," I said.

Well, I gotta say he was telling the truth. After three deep tokes I was flying high and it was helping to offset the alcohol.

He said something so funny we laughed and laughed and laughed. When we finally calmed down I felt his hand high on my bare thigh stroking lightly up and down my flesh.

I was convinced he was into girls so I didn't think much of it, but oh my God, his hand was driving me crazy. My prick became hard as a rock. My balls were painfully swollen.

"Johnny, have you ever heard the term 'friends with benefits?'" he asked me.

"Ohhhhh sure," I managed to say in my drug-addled stupor. "That's when a girl and a guy who are just friends add casual sex to their friendship."

"Well, it doesn't have to be just between a girl and a guy," he said while sliding his hand underneath the flared leg hole of my gym shorts.

Oh my God, are those his fingertips tracing the outline of my boner thru the nylon undies? Noooooooo...

He leaned in so close I could feel his hot breath in my ear.

"Johnny, it's been so long for both of us we'd be doing each other a favor...have you ever had an orgasm when you've been this high? It's super-spectacular! Johnny, I'll do you if you do me, okay?"

"I'm not a faggot, Timmy!" I protested.

"You're such a silly-willy, Johnny," he said.

He brazenly gripped my erection thru the nylon briefs and furiously rubbed it before I could do or say anything.

His hand was driving me crazy with lust and I made no move to stop him.

Two minutes later I was shouting: "Timmy -- Timmy -- Timmy - ohmyGod-ohmyGod-ohmyGod-yes-yes-yes-yes-yessssssssssss..."

My body shook and wildly flopped about on the sofa as I came-and-came-and-came inside the nylon briefs.

OH MY HELL, Little Timmy was right -- it was the greatest, most fantastic climax I'd ever had in my entire life!

I was embarrassed and my head was dizzy, spinning out of control. My God, a GUY just gave me a handjob!

Little Timmy took my hand and pressed it directly onto his hard-on. Before I knew what was happening he wrapped my fingers around his erection and moved my hand up-and-down his manly, steel pole.

Huh? What am I doing? Up-and-down-up-and-down-up-and-down...

"Johnny, squeeze it harder," he said and to my utter amazement I did as I was told.

He released his grip on my hand and said, "Johnny, move your hand faster up-and-down...oh yes, that feels wonderful...ohhhhh, you're a natural at this!"

I'm a 'natural' at giving a guy a handjob? I would have been offended but I was caught up in the excitement. He had given me pleasure so I guess I owed it to him too.

And then he shouted, "OHHHH-JOHNNYYYYY-YES-YES-YES-YES-YESSSSSSSSSSS...

***

I awoke the next morning with a screaming headache and a raging boner.

A sudden chill raced up my spine when I didn't recognize the bedroom where I had obviously slept. When I looked thru the open closet door I could see my clothes hanging in there. I breathed a sigh of relief. It's okay John, you're in the right bedroom!

I unconsciously squeezed my hard-on thru the undies. These aren't my underpants -- they're nylon not cotton - what am I wearing?

Snippets from the night before begin to flash before my eyes. When I see yellow gym shorts and a yellow shirt on a chair across the room I think how faggoty they look. Then suddenly I am overcome with another chill and ask myself: Did I wear those clothes last night? Oh my God...

Calm down and think, John, I tell myself.

Okay, okay, I met a boy named Timmy who helped me move in - nice kid, shorter than me with a baby-face but I liked him...okay, we went to his place and had a few beers...okay, okay, he brought out some whiskey, okay, so far so good...we smoked a joint -- it was good shit...it was really hot in his place and at one point he was wearing just boxers...okay, okay, he had cooler clothes I could wear -- OH MY GOD -- I DID wear those faggoty yellow things last night - not only that, he gave me these nylon briefs, too!

Again, I squeezed my boner thru the briefs -- my dick was hard as a rock. I had to admit the nylon felt wonderful on my flesh.

UH-OH: Why is the crotch of the briefs damp? I didn't piss in them, did I?

Oh nooooooo...I remember Little Timmy rubbing my prick thru the briefs...Ohhhhh man, he made me cum inside my undies...oh my God, why did I let him do that?

Oh jeez, we were talking about 'friends with benefits' and then BECAME 'friends with benefits' -- nooooo, I actually had his prick in my hand and I jerked him off too! What was I thinking?

I groggily climb out of bed and pad my way to the bathroom. I stand before the toilet and whip out my dick to piss. The damn hard-on won't go down -- I have to sit to pee.

I am just about finished when I hear banging on my front door. It startles me. My piss hard-on is gone but when I stand and pull the briefs into place the smooth, nylon material causes my dick to spring another boner. Dammit!!

I almost have a heart attack when I see Little Timmy suddenly standing in the doorway of my bathroom.

"What the hell -- what are you doing in here?" I blurt out in surprise.

"You forgot to lock your door, you silly-willy!" he says smiling.

I am stunned. I stand frozen in place. His eyes blatantly lower to the bulge in my crotch.

"Oooooooo, looks like you need a helping hand down there -- it's a good thing we're friends with benefits now!" he says.

The damn smirk remains plastered on his face. I am speechless.

He reaches out a hand and offers me a glass that I hadn't even noticed and says, "Here's some 'hair-of-the-dog' -- drink it, it'll make you feel better!"

"I can't drink today -- I have to go job hunting -- I need to find work!" I protest acutely aware he is still staring at my boner poking out the nylon fabric of the tiny briefs.

"Don't be such a silly-willy, I made a tee time for us," he says. "C'mon, take a shower and let's go. We don't have much time if we want to eat breakfast before golf!"

"Huh? What are you talking about? I can't play golf today -- I gotta find a job -- I don't have much money left!" I vehemently say to him.

He frowns and says, "Johnny, you promised last night we would play today -- I already made the time - you can look for a job tomorrow -- here drink this, you'll feel better!"

If I made a promise I guess I have to live with it. I take the drink from him and swallow a large gulp. It's a good Bloody Mary. Strong, but very tasty.

His hand suddenly squeezes my boner thru the briefs. I am so startled I spill some of the drink.

"TIMMY, STOP IT!!" I cry out. "I'M NOT A FAGGOT!"

"Neither am I, you silly-willy...we're friends with benefits and your little dicky looks awfully uncomfortable in there. Johnny, just because we played with each other's pricks last night doesn't make us queer...I simply want to help you out..." he said dejectedly like I'd hurt his feelings.

"I'm sorry," I said to him. "I'm kinda new to this whole 'friends with benefits' thing...I never heard of two guys helping each other out that way."

The smile returned to his face as he said, "Don't worry about a thing, Johnny, you'll get used to it!"

Get used to it? Get used to WHAT?

Oh my God, his hand felt so good rubbing my hard-on thru the nylon material it took less than two-minutes before my climax shook my body and I filled my briefs with four powerful explosions.

Before I could utter a single word he was gone. When I heard the front door slam shut I shrugged my shoulders and drained the strong drink in three swallows.

What the hell, I'll look for a job tomorrow.

***

I had a bad feeling when I awoke the next morning. I quickly found my wallet in the back pocket of the short-shorts Little Timmy had given me to wear.

I counted what was left and thought, 'Oh noooooooooo...what happened to my money?'

I had less than half of the money I had when I got to town. A cold shiver raced up my spine then the usual flashes of suppressed memory filled my aching head.

Little Timmy said at the golf course I had promised to pay for everything as a reward for him helping me move in. Okay, fair enough, I thought, but what happened to most of it? Did I pay rent, too? I remember meeting a Mister Z -- an old man with gray hair, he has to be sixty at the youngest - I must have given him the rent money -- good God, at least I did something right!

And then I wondered why my hands were so sticky? Oh nooooooo...a clear image of Little Timmy's hard cock filled my brain. Oh God, how many times did I jerk him off? He sure takes advantage of this 'friends with benefits' thing!

And then the strangest thought I ever had came to mind: Little Timmy does have a big cock for such a small guy -- it must be at least two-inches longer than mine!

I shook the cobwebs and the visual of his hard cock from my head. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I turning queer or what? I really should cut back on my drinking!

My reverie is interrupted by the pounding on my front door. I throw on a robe to answer it but by the time I get to the living room Little Timmy is already sitting on my couch. I've really got to start remembering to lock the door! I see a tall Bloody Mary on the table.

"Are you just getting out of bed, you silly-willy?" he asks in surprise. "It's a good thing I came over here when I did...here, drink this up -- it'll make you feel better -- you still have time to shower so we can make it to the track in time for the first race!"

I was more interested in the drink than his comment and immediately took two large swallows before I asked him: "What track? What are you talking about? I have to look for work today!"

"You promised we'd go to the race track today -- you bragged about being such a great gambler and you'd teach me how to win!" he said in all seriousness.