Hey I have enjoyed this site for some time. I admit I have this fetish and always wanted to write a story about it. IRL I am fairly straight acting and rarely pursue anything risky. With that said, there are sometimes when I want to throw caution to the wind, at least in my fantasy life!
This is my first story attempt so please bear with me. Let me know if it's worth continuing.
Also, note this is a complete work of FICTION. I do not condone unethical behavior or unsafe behavior of any sort. Be kind to each other and be safe. Get tested. This story cannot be reposted elsewhere.
OBLIVION, PART I
They called it The Boom. After three years, 200 million cases, 3 failed vaccines and 9.5 million global deaths from COVID, the world finally sloughed off its death shroud and began to breathe free again in the year 2023. And Jimmy Jackson wanted to get laid.
As he packed up his shiny new Ryzen laptop in his particularly ostentatious office on a summer solstice day, he trembled a bit with excitement. Jimmy was going to be naughty. After being holed up for three years, in quarantine, with two kids, a blonde, bland wife who had lost all interest in sex, in a world where he saw everyone else doing wrong when he was doing the right thing, he was finally going to break bad.
He loved his new job at his new company, and Jimmy thought these life changes in a new world of hope — no, scratch that, a world returning back to its old idiocy, except with fewer idiots — meant a new mindset. After so many years of playing a role he was going to break free.
His role had been one of pursuit of the ultimate suburban life, the American dream with a dose of post-racial kumbaya and pull yourself up with your own bootstraps fable-making. He was a handsome black man, 45 years old but who could definitely pass for 15 years younger, a shiny bald Blair Underwood, about 5’ 9”, still in shape but with a dad bod struggling to make itself known.
He did have a gorgeous wife, Liz, who when young reveled in being the rebel for marrying “outside her race” but the trappings of the country club, the binds of the baubles, ladies’ socials and pre-menopause sucked the life out of her. Jimmy could barely count on a blowjob every couple of years after Liz downed a bottle of gin, a boozy, sad affair that Jimmy would rather do without.
So as he made his way through highway rush hour traffic in Raccoon City, the sun still high in the sky at 7 PM in the evening, Jimmy thought about getting some cock. He had thought about it for decades.
Sure, he tried a couple of times to act on it, but he was sure the whole “gay” thing was just nervousness around women, or just a phase. There was the professor in college who invite him over, and Jimmy touched another penis for the first time, and felt another man’s touch.
The professor - a kindly man who taught in the engineering department — took Jimmy’s 18 year old cock in his mouth. Jimmy remembered the stubble of the prof’s face against his hairless stomach. The contrast — pasty white academic, strong, virile black youth — was striking. The professor sucked Jimmy’s 8 inch brown and smooth cock until Jimmy felt something rise in him he had never felt before.
Jimmy’s cock exploded in the professor’s mouth a flood of candied honey cum, and the older man drank it down. It was the most intense feeling, as if his soul had left his body as his sugary spunk flowed down the gray haired prof’s throat. The professor acted as though he’d swallowed an Olympian vintage. Jimmy briefly tasted the prof’s cock, but the bitter taste and old man scents didn’t help, and after his orgasm he felt a bit ashamed. Quickly excusing himself, he rushed out of the professor’s home, went back to his dorm room, found a stash of beer and washed the pre-cum taste out of his mouth as he listened to his roommates talk about the girls they had bagged the night before.
Throughout college and grad school people wondered why Jimmy, given his good looks and healthy career prospects, did not date that much. Oh, there were a few girls here and there, but Jimmy simply couldn’t understand women, and the games, and how he could reconcile his strong feelings for men with society’s view of what he “should do.”
Even in the gay community, Jimmy didn’t see it as welcoming. He saw people like himself, with the same hue, being portrayed as no more than Mandingo warriors ready to service white twinks - a hyper masculinity that Jimmy really found hard to pull off.
Jimmy knew that he was essentially a bottom. Versatile, maybe, but 99% bottom. The closest Jimmy got to experiencing his true desire was getting a bit tipsy one night in the city when he was 25. Luckily he wasn’t driving so he walked down the main avenue looking for a taxi — a hard thing to accomplish for a black man at 2 am on a Thursday night.
As he walked Jimmy noticed that he walked past a brick club, “The GASKET” with a red light out front. Jimmy had never been, but he knew about the place. It was a gay bathhouse. Jimmy had never had the courage to visit, especially in a small town like Raccoon City.
Near the club, though, was a bus stop shelter, and hanging out there was a burly, muscular, scruffy leather-clad daddy leaning against the side of the shelter. Jimmy saw the taller man, maybe 6’2”, and paused briefly. The leather daddy looked at him up & down.
“What the fuck you looking at?” growled the daddy.
Jimmy was a bit afraid, but seeing the daddy’s tattooed hairy chest, his rippling muscles and feeling the sense that he could rip Jimmy in two with his bare hands made Jimmy’s lips part, his crotch stir. The leather daddy sensed this.
“Sorry,” Jimmy said. He prepared to quickly walk past when the daddy cooed,”Come here, I wanna talk to you.”
The talk turned into the daddy leading Jimmy to the behind the club, pressing Jimmy against the wall while the daddy scruffily kissed him. Jimmy eyes narrowed into slits and he gasped as he gave into the lust he had for this daddy, this random daddy that pressed him against the wall with his strong arms, probing Jimmy’s mouth with his tongue and grabbing Jimmy tight bubble jeans butt in his hands. Jimmy hadn’t been with a man since that first time in college, 7 years before.
The daddy hands made its way into the back of Jimmy pants, his fingers probing, seeking, Jimmy’s tight asshole. Daddy’s fat finger rubbed Jimmy’s anus in a circular motion, then dug its way inside Jimmy, finger fucking him while the daddy devoured Jimmy neck and Jimmy slumped helpless as he was being ravaged by the leather daddy.
After a few minutes of the assault, the daddy forced Jimmy to his knees, dropped his jeans and popped out a beautiful, pink cock, tattooed along the top of the shaft with an arrow head, rock hard and dripping with pre-cum. Grabbing Jimmy’s head, the daddy forced Jimmy’d face into his crotch, and his dick into Jimmy’s moist mouth. Jimmy gagged and recoiled as Daddy slammed his thick nine inches into Jimmy mouth, assaulting his tonsils. Strings of spit and pre-semen hung from Jimmy’s chin as his mouth got fucked. Jimmy, as opposed to shame, felt an inner slut emerge.
He was in a dirty parking lot, drunk, with a strange man, with god know how many diseases and god knows he might have friends waiting out front to beat the hell out of him. Who cares, because Jimmy felt it was right to be on his knees, in front of this man. Daddy stood Jimmy up and turned him to face the wall. Pulling down Jimmy pants, Daddy had one aim in mind. Jimmy stood for a second, ass projected out, his ass somewhat open by Daddy’s finger play. He wanted to say yes…and no… but for some reason he could not voice the words. Instead, before Daddy could enter him, Jimmy mumbled incoherently and turned, went back onto his knees and presented his mouth. Daddy shrugged and continued to fuck his face.
As Daddy grunted and his balls tighten he gave Jimmy his first load. Jimmy accepted it gladly, sucking down this silver fox’s nectar, making it part of his own body. The daddy zipped up, and patted Jimmy on the head.
“Thanks, kid,” Daddy said. Then he simply walked away. In mid-stride, though, Daddy turned around. “You know, I was nice about it. Never tease a man when he’s out for ass. The next guy may not be so nice.” With him left the fog of lust and alcohol fumes that brought Jimmy to the parking lot of a gay bathhouse.
What the leather daddy said was menacing, scary. “What had I gotten myself into? I coulda been hurt really bad. And so what — what did he mean by someone not being ‘nice?’” thought Jimmy.
Somehow Jimmy found his way home, woke up in his own bed somehow, with a five alarm hangover. The night before was a blur, but the dried cum on his shirt jogged his memory - cum from the leather daddy. Something was triggered in Jimmy. Within a month he secured a girlfriend who eventually became his wife, and he started leading a false life. His fear buried his true nature, that of a bottom slut.
Twenty years later.
After doing everything right, in the middle of a pandemic Jimmy caught COVID. Though he was healthy, he ended up on a ventilator, with a low chance of survival. While fighting for his life, his wife familiarized herself with the insurance policies and the kids played Playstation 6.
After four long weeks, Jimmy emerged. Jimmy recovered. He was gonna live.
Fuck Liz. Fuck playing dad. Fuck caring about what others say. Fuck his fears. But how far would he go?
So the autonomous driving car pulled into the garage in the suburban outskirts of Raccoon City, in a nice cu-de-sac, where other colleagues’ families also lived, Jimmy thought that after decades he was going to become what he was meant to be.
Jimmy got out of the car, disengaged the auto driver, and saw across the way Melvin, a tan, in-shape, tri-athlete who also worked at Jimmy’s company, Metre Group, one floor down. (thank god he didn’t work for Umbrella Corporation!) Melvin was already a senior vice president. Though Jimmy wanted to break out of his hum-drum life, he still coveted that high executives’ life. He’d always been too nice, though, or not much of a risk taker. or corporate killer He envied Melvin in a way. No more Mr Nice Guy.
Melvin waved, while watering the lawn of his much bigger home with the other hand. “Hey Jimmy, staying late again? You’re been at Metre long enough to quit early like the rest of us!” he said with a chuckle.
“Oh, you know just trying to show you guys up!” Jimmy said with a smile. Jimmy made a note that he should continue to stay longer. Maybe that will get him noticed?
Jimmy walked into the house, past Liz who was on some menopausal silent treatment kick this week (What’s new?) and past the kids who grunted as they watched on the holo-TV “The Simple Life Reunion : Fabulous at 40” with a Botoxed Paris Hilton reprising her stupid-chick-out-of-water routine.
He went to his office, which was off limits to everyone else in the house, and plugged in his work laptop along side his huge, super fast i12 with a holographic display and AR controls. Sensing his biometrics, the computer recognizes Jimmy and boots up his 3D environment — no glasses need. It was hi-res “Minority Report.”
Manipulating an ethereal keyboard and orbs in space, he navigated to a website for gay hookups. He mostly used his membership for spank material, living vicariously through others. He had a few pictures up but nothing that showed his face. He looked at various pictures of hot guys, the NSFW shots that may or may not be of the account holder’s actual body parts. One profile intrigued him for months, though. A fair haired, 41, tall muscular guy who claimed to live on the other side of Raccoon City. Less risk of discovery, or meeting at local events maybe?
The guy — he called himself Wallace — seemed a bit cocky, a bit full of himself, but claimed be 100% top, and mostly importantly, “open to all races.”
Jimmy had instant sound-proofing installed, so at a touch of an augmented reality button his sleek office immediately became sound proof and privacy blinds dropped across the windows, just in case. Liz called this Jimmy’s “dungeon mode.” It kept her and others from getting in Jimmy’s business.
Jimmy started a virtual chat with “Wallace,” making sure to start the virtual private network and firewalls to ensure no one his true location.
Wallace answered, his image floating in space in front of Jimmy.
“Yo what’s up dude,” Wallace said.
Jimmy smiled. “Not much. thanks for taking my chat.” Jimmy noticed that his computer showed Wallace on his side trying to store Jimmy’s image. “What are you doing?” Jimmy frowned.
“Oh sorry dude. Bad habit. Just for protection, you know? Lots of crazies out there. I respect your privacy,” Wallace said, trying to be convincing.
“Don’t worry about it. This is encrypted anyway,” Jimmy said, smirking. He then thought that he might make the first move, a sign of his new mindset. “ If you weren’t as cute as you are, I woulda hung up by now.”
Wallace put his hands on his hips, contemplating this handsome black man. “Well, I’m glad I passed your cuteness test, though I personally had no doubt.”
They both laughed as the tension eased. “So, what are you looking for…uh…you didn’t say your name…” Wallace’s sentence trailed off.
“Ferriss,” Jimmy said, “Yeah like the movie.”
“Oooookkkkay” Wallace said as he did a slight eye roll. “ That’s ridiculous enough to be true. It also happens to be the name on your profile, but that doesn’t mean much. I did want to take a chat from a guy actually named Ferriss!”
“My parents liked the movie, I guess,” Jimmy said, trying to lend credence to an obvious lie.
“Hold on, I need to change shirts,” Wallace said, as, in real time, he takes off his polo to reveal a chiseled chest but with a touch of middle age— not unlike Jimmy’s body.
“Let me find… something else to put on….”
“Jimmy jumped in. “What are you doing? Now.”
Wallace was slightly taken aback, but recovered. “Nothing, why.”
“I’m coming over. I will take a shower and come over.”
Wallace smiled. “You can take one here. I’ll send my details.”
Jimmy’s decisiveness scared him a bit but also excited him. He signed off and already saw on his iPhone 14 that Wallace sent directions.
He tried to hide his erection as he walked through the house.
“I’m going out,” he simply said, to no one in particular. Not that they cared.
His car, sensing the directions, warned that the destination neighborhood had a high crime rate. Jimmy overrode the safety feature and the car went about its way.
The neighborhood was hell, and the sun setting behind the concrete canyon of this part of the city cast long dark shadows. The last of the day’s heat kept street funk encased at nostril level. The homeless shuffled about, positioning themselves as this became their dominion as darkness fell.
The car suggested to Jimmy the best lit area nearest to Wallace’s address. There was that at least. Jimmy would have to be careful, he thought. Still, lust began to drive him. He thought about, as he found the apartment building, with a cleaner exterior than most buildings in this part of town, the things he wanted to do.
He had almost died. He had denied himself for so many years. All feelings had been sucked out of him, except for fear. That was his constant companion. He wanted to start challenging it.
A face scan (an old one that didn’t link to city databases thank goodness — Jimmy knew because he managed such business for Metre) let Jimmy in the building. No elevator, just some stairs. Five stories up, and Jimmy stood in front of Apartment 529.
He knocked. No answered. He knocked again. Still no answer. Was he being ghosted? Jimmy starting feeling a bit uncomfortable standing in the strange hallway. Finally after an eternity and just as Jimmy was about to walk away, Wallace opened the door. In a towel.
“Hey, sorry,” Wallace said apologetically, “I was getting the shower ready. Come in.”
Jimmy hesitated, losing his nerve a bit. He gingerly stepped inside the apartment. The interior looked Kubrickian — white lacquered walls, with splashes of red and brown on the furniture. Muted wooden floors. In the living room a pastel wall mural of a young man, his cock dripping one splash of cum as his head is thrown back in ecstasy. They walk past the bedroom which had similar styling, with a huge brown circular bed in the middle of an almost empty white room.
They make it to the spacious bathroom, which is white and steamy at the entrance, Wallace drops his towel.
“Join me for a shower?” he asked.
Jimmy saw Wallace’s gorgeous body, and fair haired trimmed bush, and long but still flaccid uncut cock. Jimmy didn’t have to be asked twice — he quickly undressed and took Wallace’s hand…and walked into the steam - a deep, sandalwood fog that eventually revealed a large open shower with a waterfall shower head and shower heads position around the walls of the chamber at chest height.
Wallace pulled Jimmy close, and they both looked into a nearby tall mirror — Jimmy’s brown skin and Wallace’s pink, taunt body. They kiss, and Jimmy’s hardness rose as his fear faded away. Wallace grabbed some beautiful body soap.
“I had this made especially for me,” Wallace said. The smell of oud, jasmine, saffron and rose filled the space and Wallace worked the body soap around his body, then around Jimmy’s. Wallace stroked Jimmy’s chest as Jimmy closed his eyes, working his mind into it., feeling the water jets all around him, feeling Wallace’s wet hands. smelling the smells.
“That’s nice,” Jimmy sighed.
After a bit, Wallace says, “Turn around.” Jimmy complied, putting his hands on the shower walls and turning his ass to Wallace. Wallace, using more soap, caresses it into Jimmy’s back, working his way down until he reaches Jimmy’s ass crack. Jimmy arches his back as the first man to touch him there in decades strokes his asshole, slowly opening it up. Wallace reaches around and starts to work Jimmy’s already engorged cock.
Jimmy barely realized that Wallace had started to spoon him, and that Wallace’s own prodigious cock was sliding up and down between Jimmy’s cheeks. Jimmy was entranced, his mouth slightly open.
The world fell away and he was grateful. He tired of its fakeness. He grew weary of the pettiness. As a man who faced death he realized that no one was here to save us, to take care of our pleasure. No one seizes the day but ourselves, and as he threw his head back in passion Wallace slid his slick cock into Jimmy’s sweet brown bubble butt, like it was meant to be there.
Jimmy’s dick stiffened and began to leak pre-cum. Wallace’s kissed on Jimmy’s neck, and softly grunted as he took that virgin hole, that would be his forever. Jimmy swooned as he thought that this moment was so perfect, that on his death bed he would struggle to jack off at the last moment of his life to match his end with the beginnings that this night brought to him. He was fulfilling his calling as a bottom.
As Wallace tweaked his nipples Jimmy worked his ass back and met each of Wallace’s thrusts. He felt his walls milking Wallace’s cock and he gasped as he felt Wallace’s cock swell. Wallace began focusing his stroke on Jimmy’s prostate, pummeling it with each stroke. Jimmy was not only on the verge of a true anal orgasm but close to shooting his load without once touching his dick. Jimmy loved the possibility of surrender - surrender to Wallace’s dick, surrendering his body to a strange lover….
Wallace leaned in, whispering to Jimmy, “Oh my god you are so tight. You must be a virgin. I always wanted to give my gift to a virgin.”
Gift?, Jimmy thought. “Whaaaa….” Reality intervened.
“What do you mean, ‘gift?’” Jimmy asked, curious but his voice trembling.
“My poz cum. I’m going to make you pregnant with my baby. I will own you,” Wallace said with a mixture of a sigh and a hiss.
“NOOOOO!” Jimmy said, snapping out of his dick daze. He dislodged Jimmy’s dick from his ass and ran for the bathroom door, collecting his things. He’s soaking wet…
“Wait! I thought you knew! I thought that was what you wanted!” Wallace protested. Jimmy quickly got dressed, with difficulty as he tried to fit his still-hard cock into his jeans.
“You are a sick animal! I should have you arrested! I don’t want AIDS!!!!” Wallace reached out but Jimmy turned away and ran to the door.
“No, get away from me!” Jimmy leaves, leaving Wallace standing in the middle of his living room, naked, blue-balled, confused.
Jimmy races down the stairs into the tepid night, confused about where he left his car. H felt so exposed in some many ways. He was again, scared. Jimmy realized he was lost. He forgot what block he left his car on. Various shady characters circled around him, sensing confused and vulnerable prey. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt himself watched…
Then suddenly like Mulholland Drive a mangy creature stepped out of the shadows of an alley into Jimmy’s way. Putrid, with a mangled face, the creature smiled a diseased smile, and Jimmy’s heart leapt out of his chest and he ran the other way. After about 20 minutes Jimmy found his car, still intact, unmolested, unlike him.
By the time of his arrival at home Liz had bedded down with her nightly headache and the kids were doing what teenagers do so Jimmy was alone. He rushed to his office, activating silence mode. What should he do? What the hell was Wallace thinking? What was the hell he thinking? His lust after so many years had made his stupid and vulnerable to something like this.
He navigated to the hookup website to delete Wallace’s profile. Jimmy was in a rage. As he logged on he noticed a message from Wallace. Jimmy went to delete it, but thought better of it. Maybe Wallace had something meaningful to say to explain his actions.
The message consisted of only Wallace on his huge round, brown bed in a white room, stroking his huge cock. Long strokes, his bulbous head straining under its skin, his pee hole leaking rivers of precum that made his cock slick. Moaning Jimmy’s name, Wallace shot floods and floods of juicy cum its color enhanced by the dark brown of the sheets. Jimmy didn’t think it possible to explode in such a way. His asshole twitched in sympathy and his mouth watered at the sight of this seed.
“I am a nice guy, Jimmy,” Wallace said after coming down from his orgasm. “Never tease a man when he’s out for ass.” The message ended there, and Jimmy was shaking.
“This is my life!” Jimmy thought “What right does he have?” Jimmy deleted everything about Wallace from his computer. He was done.
But…did Wallace say what he thought he said…and HOW DID HE KNOW MY NAME????
Just then, on Jimmy’s work computer, a message arrives. “That’s strange,” Jimmy thought, because his work computer wasn’t set up to receive messages yet.
“HOW WAS TONIGHT?” the message said.
It was signed by Melvin.
TO BE CONTINUED.
