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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Circumstances - 4. Kenny Gets Done

A young man on a quest, pants down.

1.

 

Les’s apartment was small and neat, though not really attractive. Things didn’t seem to match, but Les was kind of that way, too. His face wasn’t bad: clear skin, shy eyes, a small nose and mouth. His black hair, worn short, was carefully parted and combed to one side. He was 28, maybe 5'-9,” but he wore dark jeans and a T-shirt, the way chubby guys sometimes do to make themselves look thinner. Still, when he sat, Kenny could see his belly bugle, and his legs spread a bit because of his thighs. His glasses also seemed just a little small for his face.

Kenny was a couple of minutes late, and when he’d knocked, the door had opened immediately, as though Les had been waiting at the peep hole. “Hi,” Kenny had said. Les glanced at him then turned away and led them into the room. They’d been inches from the couch, feet from the dining table. A small kitchen, out of sight, obviously opened on the dining area. An open door off the living room led to the bedroom.

The walls were covered with inexpensively-framed theater show cards, all from New York. One wall seemed dedicated to Julie Andrews. The others were shared by Carol Channing, Chita Rivera, and Carol Burnett.

“You must like the theater,” Kenny said, still standing, studying an assemblage of 16 Julie Andrews CD’s, in a kind of snap-out frame. Les was behind him. When Kenny turned, Les asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No,” Kenny said, both politely and because that wasn’t why he was there. He’d come to get his cock sucked. That, specifically, was the intention.

He sat on the couch. Les sat beside him, though several feet away. There was no matching chair, no room for one, nor a coffee table. Four feet away, centered on the couch, the TV set hugged the wall, framed by narrow shelves of boxed videos.

“Could you turn off the TV?” Kenny asked. It soundlessly showed some local morning show Kenny couldn’t identify. Local cable? It was just past ten-thirty on a Saturday.

Without comment, Les killed the picture with the remote. Still, he sat facing the TV, his body set, his face turned only slightly, just past profile, to Kenny.

Kenny sat with his knees wide, his hands overlapping at his crotch, facing Les as much as he could. “What do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a technical writer. Mainly for software.”

“I thought you might be involved in performing.”

“I was... kinda... used to be. I used to review plays for one of the free weeklies. But that sort of stopped.”

“Why? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“It was taking too much time. ”

“Wasn’t it like a hobby?”

“Partly. But it still took time.”

“Did you ever act?”

“A little. In college. Not here.”

“When did you move here?”

“After school. I’m from Albuquerque. I wanted something more cosmopolitan.”

It wasn’t a word Kenny hear a lot.

“And you weren’t interested in movies?” he asked.

“Maybe a little. But my first job was writing... I was a Journalism major. I started working for a computer magazine and got into tech writing. Maybe it’s not the most exciting thing, but it supports me. Comfortably.”

“I know what you mean. It’s why I’m a therapist.”

“Psychologist?”

“Physical therapist... Athletic trainer.”

“How long?”

“Six years. Since college.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“You’re lucky.”

And for a moment, Les said nothing. He sat facing the television, barely looking at Kenny. Kenny wanted to touch him. He looked so lonely. But that’s not what Kenny was after.

“Have you met many guys this way?” he asked instead.

“Maybe a dozen.”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Almost a year.”

“And you only met twelve guys? With so many online? That’s restraint.”

“I don’t do it all the time... And some guys are flaky... they don’t show up. Or when they do... they don’t come again.”

“Do you want them to?”

Les said nothing.

“Would you like to see one guy?” Kenny went on.

“I... don’t know.”

“I didn’t think you wanted a relationship.”

Les hesitated. “I... don’t know.”

“I’ve never been in one,” Kenny said. “But I haven’t been looking.”

“I was in one for a while. Not long, really... most of a year. It’s not what I’m looking for, either.”

“But if something happens...”

Again, Les said nothing. He sat, looking almost afraid, and Kenny wanted to hug him. But didn’t.

“I suppose we should start,” he finally said, and Les looked at him.

“I’m not really into it now... I’m not in the mood.”

Kenny was stunned. He come to have his cock sucked. What did mood have to do with it?

“I guess you don’t like athletic trainers,” he tried to say lightly.

Les shook his head.

“What do you want?” Kenny asked.

Les shook his head again.

“Younger guys? Hotter guys?” Look what you’re using for bait, Kenny wanted to say. Instead, more politely, he said. “I’m not a model. I told you that in my text. But I’m not bad looking.”

“It’s not that,” Les insisted. “Not any one thing... You’re a nice guy... I’ve liked talking to you. There’s just no chemistry...”

Kenny tried not to feel insulted. But it hurt. “That hurts,” he told Les. “A lot more than it should.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And it’s not part of the bargain. I came here to get my cock sucked. I’m not asking you out. We’re not dating. I came here the same way you pick up your cleaning or go to the bank. You posted, I answered, and now you’re backing out. And I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you are... You don’t know how it feels.”

“Shit happens...”

“That’s garbage.”

“Sometimes, it does.”

Kenny thought for a moment. “Have you’ve done this to other guys?”

“No,” Les said quickly.

“I’ll bet you have. I’ll bet you do this all the time. I’ll bet it’s all you do.”

“No,” Les insisted. But he was looking away, and Kenny would bet he was lying.

“I’m sorry... really,” Les repeated.

“Just be careful,” Kenny warned. “You make some guy promises... you’ll get some guy mad enough... you’re gonna get beaten up.”

“That won’t happen,” Les said. And he took a carving knife from under a throw pillow.

Kenny couldn’t get out of there fast enough. And he swore to god he’d never just get his cock sucked again.


 

2.

 

Floyd was in his mid-thirties and good-looking in an aging athlete way. He was a building contractor, married, with three kids. He was Kenny’s height, just under six foot, maybe 175, with a good build. His trimmed beard was light brown, but his shaggy hair seemed in the final stages of darkening from blonde. He wore expensive sunglasses, a button-down, preppy shirt, sleeves half-rolled and the front opened over a turquoise tank top, khaki shorts, topless socks and clean running shoes. He set his sunglasses immediately on Kenny’s coffee table, along with his phone.

“Something to drink?” Kenny asked.

“I’m fine.” Floyd grinned, revealing perfect teeth.

Kenny indicated the couch. Floyd sat, a bit restlessly, across from Kenny, who was in a chair.

“I’m always nervous at first,” Floyd admitted.

“You do this often?”

“Often as I can.” He pronounced the “t.” “There’s been one guy... regular... but he can’t handle me as much as I’d like.”

“I’ve only tried this once,” Kenny said. “It didn’t work out.” And he told Floyd about Les.

“That’s not right,” Floyd said. “I mean, the knife... well, this is LA. I’m surprised it wasn’t a gun. But when a guy says he’ll suck your dick, he’s gotta suck.” For a moment, he looked at Kenny. “Why wouldn’t he want to, anyhow?”

“Who knows? I never even opened my jeans.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.”

And they thought about that.

“How you get started with this?” Floyd soon asked.

“I’ve been watching porn,” Kenny said, laughing.

“Who hasn’t?”

“And in one, a guy comes to the door, sucks this other guy, and leaves. “I wanted to try that... but I wanted to be sucked.”

“Cool. Let me see your dick.”

“You want to take it out, or should I?”

“What’s in your fantasy?”

Kenny thought for a second. “That I never touch myself. I’m standing, leaning against the door. You kneel.”

“And unzip your fly?”

“Yeah.”

“OK.”

And Kenny went to the door and leaned against it. Floyd followed him, knelt, unzipped Kenny’s fly, fumbled for a moment with his jockey shorts, and pulled out his dick. It was already hard.

“Nice,” Floyd said. “Now what?”

“The guy closes his eyes and never sees the rest. The second guy sucks him off and leaves. Never even zips him up. The last thing you see is the guy grinning, still with his eyes closed.

“How’s the other guy get out the door?”

“I don’t know. We never see.”

“Must be a second door.”

“I only have one.”

“Then lean against the wall.”

Kenny did.

“Guess I should say ‘Good-bye’ now,” Floyd said, flashing his teeth.

“Yep,” Kenny said. And he smiled, too.

“If this works out, I’d like to see you again,” Floyd said.

“If this works out, fine.”

“I hate just sucking a guy and leavin’. Good waste of dick ”

“Let’s see what happens.”

“Yeah. No point sucking a guy twice, if you hated it the first time.”

“Then suck,” Kenny said. By then, he knew he was dripping.

And Floyd took Kenny’s dick in his mouth, swallowing it all the way to the base. Kenny closed his eyes and felt Floyd’s tongue tickle the underside of his cock. It felt amazing. He took a deep breath and arched against the wall, touching it only his shoulders. He was starting to rise on his toes when Floyd’s phone rang.

Floyd ignored it, and Kenny tried to keep focus. For a moment, there was a nice balance – juggling what was happening in his body and what was going on in his mind. Then he could only hear the ring.

He counted, thinking it should stop. It didn’t, but Floyd sucked on. Kenny knew he was dripping now. He could feel it. That could go one for a while and was always a pleasure. Floyd hadn’t let up, and had eased one of his hands under Kenny’s shirt, stroking his belly. His other hand caressed Kenny’s balls. This is exactly what Kenny wanted.

Except for the phone.

“I should have turned that off,” Floyd said, taking a breath, but keeping his hands busy.

“It’ll stop,” Kenny said, eyes still closed.

“I don’t have it set that way. It’s for business.”

Kenny tried to block it out.

“I’ll be right back,” Floyd said. “Let me just kill it.” Then Kenny heard, “Oh, shit, I’ve got to take it.”

Kenny stayed against the wall with his eyes closed. This didn’t happen in porn. Maybe it should. Maybe it would be funny. But porn wasn’t about jokes.

Of course, he could hear Floyd talking, even though the man had evidently moved across the room. It sounded like he’d left the living room and was in the hall.

What Kenny heard wasn’t good. Floyd wasn’t trying to quickly end the conversation. The more he talked, the more involved he got. There were a couple of ‘Oh, gods,’ and finally a “Fuck, no!”

Kenny opened his eyes. Floyd was out of the hall, and Kenny could hear his voice from the bathroom. His dick was getting soft, but it was still wet with Floyd’s spit, and Kenny wondered whether to zip up.

When Floyd came back to the living room, he looked shattered. “Oh, my god. I’m sorry. I almost forgot about you. One of my workers was in an accident. It wasn’t on a job. He was driving home in his car, and no one was hurt. But he’s illegal, and now the cops have him. They’re threatening to send him home, and his wife is hysterical. She’s illegal, too.”

Ken quietly put away his dick.

“I’m really sorry, bud,” Floyd said. “That was terrific. You were great. You’ve got to let me finish the next time. I’m really sorry.”

He kissed Kenny quickly and was out of there. Kenny pictured the poor guy in jail and his poor wife being deported. He wondered if they had kids. Then he felt his dick sticking to his shorts, and he knew he should take a shower. He could jerk off, too, but he didn’t much feel like it. S for a while, he just sat at the computer, watching porn.


 

3.

 

It was ninety-five degrees out, and John arrived wearing a red nylon windbreaker. Other than that, he wasn’t badly dressed: yellow polo shirt, striped seersucker pants, white socks and tennis shoes. He also carried a sharp, snap-rim portfolio, which reminded Kenny he’d mentioned investment counseling on the phone. He post said he was 32, 5'-11", 175, and he described himself as athletic. Still, his thinning hair seemed dyed close to shoe polish brown, his blue eyes were unenviable, and they flanked a nose that gave him the look of an English butler.

“You’re a good-looking man,” he told Kenny, as though surprised.

And you’re not, especially, Kenny wanted to say. But there were so many things beyond looks. And John shared his fantasy.

They’d arranged to meet, at John’s request, for “just a few minutes.” “I have to go to the gym. I’ll be right around the corner. Let’s take a look.”

Kenny had agreed.

After John set down his portfolio, he asked, “This door?”

“Yes,” Kenny said.

John tapped it. “Seems solid enough. We don’t want it caving in when you push against it.”

“No,” Kenny said, smiling.

John glanced around the apartment then looked back at Kenny. “Let’s do this. I know I said ‘a few minutes,” but that was a test. You passed.”

Kenny again agreed. However rude it might be, he knew, once his eyes were closed, John could be the guy in the video. Or anyone.

“Let’s go,” he said. “But I’ll lean against this wall. That way, you can slip out when you’re done.”

“Deal,” John said, tapping the wall. “Lean.”

Kenny did, and he closed his eyes. He imagined John kneeling but didn’t hear even the rustle of his windbreaker. John quickly unzipped Kenny’s fly and deftly freed his cock and balls. The man had soft hands.

And a good mouth. Unlike Floyd, he didn’t immediately swallow Kenny to the base, but nibbled on his cock bit-by-bit. Plus, he rhythmically swayed Kenny’s balls back and forth between what seemed like his index fingers. It tickled and took Kenny a bit out of the fantasy, but he didn’t want to say, “Don’t do that.” He just relaxed.

Soon after, John silently unfastened Kenny’s belt. Then he unbuttoned Kenny’s jeans and eased them and his shorts down to his ankles. That wasn’t in Kenny’s play book, but it felt nice. And it was a shared fantasy. He shouldn’t interfere.

Then, as John contined working Kenny’s cock with his mouth, and his balls with one hand, the other slipped toward’s Kenny’s rear. John didn’t have lube, but it didn’t seem to matter. First, one of his fingers was inside, then another.

That also wasn’t what Kenny had planned, but who could object? He was now straining against the wall, as he had been with Floyd. And he was up on his toes. He took a deep breath.

“Just stay there for a moment,” John said suddenly. “I gotta pee.”

“It’s down the hall...” Kenny began.

“I’ll find it.”

And he was gone. Kenny thought about opening his eyes but wanted to hold in place. And John was good. Kenny couldn’t wait for him to come back.

When he came back, the first thing John did was lean, full length, against Kenny, easing his tongue into Kenny’s mouth, with the same skill he’d opened Kenny’s pants. Next, he was sucking on Kenny’s tongue, something unfortunately few guys Kenny had met knew how to do well, and it felt amazing. For a moment, Kenny wondered if John had taken off his windbreaker. There seemed less fabric between their chests. But he didn’t want to speak, and he was purposely keeping his hands at his sides.

Then John was sucking again, while fingering Kenny’s balls and hole. He seemed to have some lube, because his fingers were moving more quickly, and Kenny was getting harder.

I’m close, he thought. Very close.

Then something happened. John gently took Kenny’s hands – actually, he softly stroked his palms first – and he drew Kenny down to his knees. As Kenny knelt, John let go of his dick and slipped his tongue back into Kenny’s mouth. Meanwhile, he eased Kenny’s T-shirt up his chest then over his shoulders and arms. His mouth only seemed to leave Kenny’s as the T-shirt passed.

This is hot, Kenny thought. Not what I imagined, but great. And with a guy in a windbreaker – he could definitely feel the nylon against his chest.

For a time, they both knelt, fiercely kissing while John rolled Kenny’s nipples between his fingers. Kenny’s hands were still at his sides. His almost unbending dick somehow folded against John’s pants.

John slowly stood and guided Kenny’s mouth to his dick. Kenny wasn’t sure when John had opened his own pants. He hadn’t felt John’s dick getting hard before, either, when they’d been pressed against each other. This isn’t what I wanted, Kenny thought, but it sure felt nice to have a dick in his mouth. As he felt his way around it, he could feel John tense, and Kenny knew he was doing well.

When John came, it was an easy flow – he was a surprisingly elegant man. Kenny took it all in, savoring the almost sweet-sour taste. He swallowed it then licked John clean, and John thanked him by tousling his hair.

Then John was gone. Kenny didn’t even hear him reach for his portfolio. He heard the door open, and in the moment it took for his eyes to adjust to the light, he heard the door close.

He quickly moved to the window – the bedroom window because it overlooked the street – and watched John loping to his car. He must have parked at the far end of the block. Someone got his fantasy, Kenny thought, laughing. It wasn’t me, but I made somebody happy, Very happy. I’ll just have to try again.

Then he lay on his bed and brought himself off.


 

4.

 

Eddie was beautiful. As he posted: 6'-0, 180, muscular, but not overbuilt. With black, nicely-cut hair, brown eyes, and a good tan. He was Hispanic, raised in the States. His housemate – a woman who wasn’t his girlfriend – was a nurse, so he possibly also worked in medicine. He wore a dark blue tennis shirt, light blue shorts, gym socks and running shoes. He wanted to blow Kenny with no frills.

“I just want to come over there, suck you off, then leave.”

“Perfect,” Kenny said. “Exactly what I’m looking for.”

Eddie laughed, Kenny gave him directions, and they were together in fifteen minutes. Kenny suggested the porn scenario, but Eddie had a different idea. They went to Kenny’s bedroom, and Eddie slipped his shorts off past his running shoes. He wore no underwear. He took off Kenny’s jeans and jockey shorts. Kenny had already been barefoot.

“You want me kneeling?” Eddie asked, as he toyed with his dick.

“That would be fine.”

Eddie knelt then looked at Kenny. “I don’t want to come on the rug.”

Kenny got a towel and folded it on the floor. Eddie adjusted it slightly then went back to playing with his cock.

“There’s lube,” Kenny said. He pointed to the night stand.

“What kind?”

“WD-40.”

Eddie laughed.

“The usual stuff,” Kenny explained. He got out the bottle and squirted a bit on Eddie’s cock. When some went wild, he asked, “Want to take off your shirt?”

“No,” Eddie said. Firmly.

That was too bad, because Kenny would have liked to see his chest. It nicely filled out his tennis shirt. Instead, he stood in front of Eddie, leaning against the wall. Eddie bobbed for Kenny’s cock several times, while still stroking his own. It was now hard and sprouted from a nest of untrimmed, black curls. There was a tan line on Eddie’s thighs, but little hair. Kenny guided his cock into Eddie’s mouth. Unfortunately, the moment it touched Eddie’s lips, Kenny was ready to come.

“Hang on a sec,” he said, easing himself free. Slightly embarrassed, he explained the problem. “You’re really hot... maybe the best looking guy I’ve ever been with. I can’t believe I’m this close.”

Eddie smiled. “Don’t let my looks throw you.”

Kenny wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never had this problem. And he didn’t want to talk. He wanted sex. Beside, Eddie had said, “No frills.”

Still, he confessed, “I’m right on the edge.” He could feel himself oozing. What was wrong?

Eddie watched, still on his knees, hands crossed behind his back. “I want you to make lots of noise when you come,” he said.

Kenny thought that was maybe to distract him, though yelling wasn’t really his style. But he agreed, trying to forget his immediate problem.

“Sure,” he agreed.

“You’ve got a great dick,” Eddie said. “I can imagine it shooting.”

Which just pushed Kenny further. He moved to the bed and sat on the edge. He slipped off his shirt then lay back. He took long, quiet breaths, hoping Eddie wouldn’t notice.

“Better?” Eddie asked. Kenny nodded.

Eddie slipped off his own shirt, and – seeing his chest – Kenny wanted to pull back on his clothes. He was no competition.

Eddie grinned. “I do a lot of working out... use a lot of my free time. Maybe too much, but it lets off stress.”

“From what?” Kenny was happy for the conversation.

“Work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a physician’s assistant.”

“I’m a trainer. I never had the math for real medicine.”

Talking helped, but it drove Kenny further from his fantasy.

Eddie brought it right back. He simply touched Kenny’s knee and began moving his hand slowly up Kenny’s leg. Always smiling and looking into Kenny’s eyes. Then he leaned over, ever so tentatively, and took Kenny’s cock in his mouth.

Kenny lasted maybe ten seconds and was soon silently twisting in on his bed. That made Eddie smile.

“Shit,” Kenny said. “And I didn’t even make noise.”

“But you looked terrific. I love guys humble.” And he sucked Kenny’s belly clean, especially working his navel – where there’d been a small pool – with his tongue. That seemed to make him even happier. Then he began stroking his own cock.

“You really did come soon,” he admitted.

“I’ve never done that. I once told a guy that nothing in bed was worth doing if it took less than two hours.”

Eddie laughed, but Kenny felt he was the joke. Still, Kenny was still hard, so Eddie went back to sucking.

“I won’t come again,” Kenny warned. “But you can play all you want.”

Eddie did, tugging his own cock till he shot – neatly straight down, onto the towel. Howling like a Mastiff all the way.

“Now that’s making noise,” Kenny said.

Eddie’s finally slowed his breathing and released Kenny’s dick. He’d been holding it tight in his hand.

“Need to wash up?” Kenny asked.

“That’d be good.”

“Bathroom’s across the hall. I’ll get you a washcloth.”

He followed Eddie into the john and watched while he scrubbed at the sink. But Kenny was still hard, and when Eddie finished, he leaned Kenny against the wall.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

Kenny did, and Eddie sucked for a good long time, his hands working Kenny’s chest and butt. When Kenny shot, he tried to howl but just didn’t have it in him. But he twisted so much against the wall that Eddie kept laughing.

Kenny had to open his eyes. Eddie was on his knees, one hand on his dick though it was soft.

“God, you’re great looking,” Kenny said.

“It scared you the first time. Second was better.”

“I don’t understand what happened.”

Eddie shrugged and went back to the bedroom, quickly slipping on his clothes. Dressed, he cupped his hand under Kenny’s balls and squeezed gently. “I know where you live,” he said. “I’ll be back”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. You come that fast again though, I’m gonna make you shoot three times. Teach you to slow down.”

“Sorry I wasted the first one.”

“Nothing’s wasted. As I said, I liked you humble.”

Thank god for patient men, Kenny thought.

“Now, close your eyes,” Eddie instructed.

Kenny complied. And he quickly heard the front door close beyond him.

2019 by Richard Eisbrouch
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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