Becoming the Pig

[kspozcum]

Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at writing here... please let me know what you think and feel free to comment. I plan on updating as often as possible.

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PART 1: Enter the Bear’s Den

Taking a deep drag off the large, black cigar in my mouth, I let out a deep moan as the large, hairy bear now presently deep in my formerly tight ass slammed home one last time before announcing to the room he was cumming deep in my hole. I rested my head back, nose-jetting the thick acrid cigar smoke that I had just filled my formerly pick healthy lungs with and proceeded to rub my cock. I winced a little as the fresh PA now piercing the head of my dick moved from my slow jacking, which caused me to clench my hole involuntarily, trapping the thick throbbing member in my hole, milking the bear of his cum.

The other men in the room cheered with words like “Poz that neg hole…” and “Fill up that cum dump..” as I took my cigar from my mouth and ran it over the new tattoo inked across my stomach.

“Cumdump…” I thought to myself, smiling and thinking of the freshly inked words still throbbing on my skin, “definitely fits who I am now.”

My transformation into the inked and pierced slut before these men was something my former self, a young, non-smoker who had barely ever taken a cock, much less barebacked, would never have imagined that he could have become.

—

It was a nasty breakup. Walking in on your boyfriend of 3 years having sex with a woman was something that I would have imagined seeing. I had just gotten home from my clinical rotation at the nearby hospital as was required by our medical program. Long nights, low pay, and lots of stress- these were all things they warn you of when you get into med school, but it never really sinks in until you are up to your eyes in patients.

Matthew, my former boyfriend, was my first and only boyfriend. We had met in the first week of college and hit things off instantly. He had straight black hair, warm brown eyes, built like a brick shit-house, and a British accent that could make you cream your pants. I myself was a polar opposite, blonde hair, blue eyes, shorter with a swimmer’s build. 

Even though we picked different career paths, he always said he supported me because he knew it would mean a great life for both of us. What’s better than a doctor and lawyer on the checkbook? Every night when I got stuck doing rounds because either it was the proverbial full moon in the ER or an attending called in sick. I suspected things were going on when he stopped wanting to have sex, even though I usually was too tired from work or school to mess around. Things got tenser, as every time we were together he was glued to his phone, always making the excuse that it was someone from work with a question from the nonprofit he worked for. I brushed it off, think it was just stress getting to me.

On the fated night, I had gotten the night off since I had too many hours and figured I’d surprise him with dinner, a movie, and a bottle of lube. I walked in and heard grunting coming from the bedroom of the small apartment we shared. Thinking I’d sneak in and surprise him on his workout, I burst the room, and yelled: “Ravish me with your…”

Looking down, I saw him, in bed, deep inside the ditzy girl from down the hall. I stood there, staring as he jumped, jaw gaping, surprised at my entry as she squealed in delight. Words left me as he blurted out a rushed “oh shit…” and proceeded to pull out of the vapid blonde.

I stormed out of the bedroom and into the living room. He followed, reeking of sex and candy-scented perfume. “Babe… please…. I…” he started, his mild British accent trailing after me.

Fuming, I looked at him before slowly growling out my reply through gritted teeth.

“How long?”

“I…. she…. it’s not what you think…” he stammered, trying to come up with a lie on the spot.

“How. Long.” I replied, stepping towards him, punctuating each word with my finger in the center of his sculpted chest.

“We…. only a few times….” he replied, looking down, knowing I was quickly getting to that dangerous quiet I got into before truly blowing up at someone.

“A few times? Are you fucking kidding me? I don't care if it was once. Get your shit and get out. I don’t care where you go, but you no longer live here.” I replied turning my back on him and looking out the windows.

“Jake… hon….. you can’t do that… both our names are on the lease,” he replied, his cheeks flushed, reminding me of what was now obviously a stupid move I had made a year ago when we moved to the new apartment.

“Fine,” I replied, “I’m going then. I’ll move my shit out when I get a new place. Have a great life asshole.”

Grabbing my keys, I went into the bedroom, ignoring the dimwitted blonde slut on our bed, and began collecting things such as my clothes, a few pairs of scrubs, my phone charger, and a few toiletries.

Stepping back into the bedroom, I looked down as the pink colored claws of the bimbo touched my arm, stopping me in the doorway.

“Jake, honey, look…. I’m sor-“ she started, plastering the fake sad look on her face I’d seen countless people do when trying to apologize for something they aren't really that sorry for.

“Bitch,” I growled out, “If you don’t move you hand in the next 5 seconds, I will move it for you. And I will make sure you require surgery.”

She stepped away with a gasp, pulling her hand towards her chest, protecting it with the other like she had been physically hurt by my words.

I grabbed my phone and proceeded out the door, taking the stairs next the elevator.

Fuming, I climbed down the 12 flights of stairs and stepped out into the lobby, coming face to face with Matt for the second time, who had hastily thrown on a pair of jeans.

“Sweetheart, please!” he said reaching for my hand and I walked through the lobby. “Let’s talk about this! We can work on this!”

“Just like you worked on her pussy for fuck knows how long?!” I screamed out loud, catching the glances of several people in our building, including the sweet little old lady across the hall from us.

“You’re making a scene,” Matt hissed, looking at me beseechingly.

“And what do you call what I fucking walked in on?!” I screeched, throwing his hand that he had started to place on my shoulder, “What do you fucking call it when you walk on your formerly gay boyfriend shoving his cock up some balloon chest bitch, you asshole?!”

Not wanting to hear his reply, I walked out the street, and pulled out my phone, ordering an Uber.

—

Looking down at my phone, I mostly ignored the admittedly hot Uber drive that had picked me up.

I sent out a text to my friend Erika, asking if she would cover for me for a few days in the hospital, giving her a slightly abridged version of the night's events.

After getting a solid yes and promising to go in greater details soon with her, I shut off my phone and looked up at my surroundings. 

“Excuse me…” I asked, getting the attention of the driver.

“Yeah?” he replied, never letting his eyes off the road.

“Where in the world are we?” I asked, looking around, not really recognizing the area.

“Goin’ to where you told the app sir,” he replied with a bored sigh.

Looking down at my phone, I realized I had somehow entered a gay bar named “The Bear’s Den” into the address that Matt and I had almost gone to meet friends at before we realized how seedy the place was, instead of the hotel I had picked earlier near work.

“Shit… look I…” I started to reply, before realizing that I most definitely needed a drink, even if I never touched the stuff, “Actually, mind if we swing by a hotel first? Extra $20 in it for you.”

“Make it $40 and I’ll wait for you at the hotel,” he said, pulling over on the side of the road and waited as I adjusted the address to a closer hotel.

Pulling up, I noticed that the hotel wasn’t up to what I had grown accustomed to but definitely would do in a pinch. Then the attendant said that the only rooms they had left were smoking. Shit, I thought to myself. Not wanting to be a bigger delay for the driver, I quickly said fine, telling myself that it was only for a night. I quickly got my key, raced to the room, and threw everything in the closet before closing the door and making my way back to the car.

Fifteen mins later, we were at the seedy bar and my Uber was driving away. I stepped into the bar and was immediately hit by a wave of thick cigar smoke, loud gay men chattering and what I could swear was the slight twinge of sex in the air. Looking around, I realized I definitely did not fit in dressed in a v-neck shirt and slightly too tight jeans, while the other men were wearing leather of some sort.

Swallowing my pride, I stepped up the bar and ignored all the stares from the other guys.

Turning to me, the bartender, a hot 30-something with brown hair, piercing green eyes, a perfect tan, and piercings in his ears and eyebrow looked me up and down before finally asking, “What will it be?”

Thinking for a second, I finally blurted out a scotch, not wanting to look like a silly fag ordering something like a green apple martini.
Nodding his head, he went to work making my drink before setting the glass and the bottle down in front of me and walking off.

Suddenly, I was surprised by the guy who suddenly sat down next to me. 50's, shaved head, stormy gray eyes, tons of piercings including a septum ring, leather chaps, and vest, and definitely a muscle builder, he looked like something you would see in a leather daddy magazine.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked in a deep booming bass voice, beer in one hand and an unlit cigar in the other.

“Nah… go ahead,” I replied looking down at the already half empty glass in front of me.

“Bad night?” he asked, turning towards me.

“You don't want to hear it…” I started.

“Trust me I do. Whatever it is has you looking like you really could use that drink,” he said, eyeing the glass in my hand as I set it down from taking another swig, “You don't want to talk, I get it. Just figured I’d see if you needed a person to bitch to. That, and you seem kinda out of place here. I’m Jackson.”

I took a look around again and swore I felt like everyone was looking at me still. He held out his hand, and I shook it. Then, grabbing my glass again, I downed it and let him fill it back up. Letting out a sigh, I retold him the night’s events, my previous history with Matt, everything.

As I finished the story, not realizing that I had now downed 4 glasses of scotch, I let out a small sniff.

“Fuck…” I sniffled, “I don’t know… Should I forgive him? Work things out?”

Grabbing his cigar, he started lighting it up and I found my self slightly mesmerized by the ritual. Looking up at me, he nodded at the cigar in his hand, “You mind if I light up? I need a smoke after hearing that.”

I shook my head, muttering something like ‘what’s one more cigar in here’ and watched as he brought the stick to life, making a bright cherry as he inhaled deeply on it. Blowing it to the side, he looked at the cigar before putting back in his mouth.

“If it were me,” he started, “ And I’m just spitballing here, I wouldn’t. He obviously fucked up a good thing, all for a piece of sloppy meat attached to a pair of tits. If he wanted to fuck around, he should have asked you first. Made it your choice.”

“Yeah… it’s just… I don’t know what to do. He's all I know...” I replied running my finger around the edge of my glass, watching as he inhaled deeply on the dark stick in his mouth.

Watching me watch him as he smoked, he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a second cigar, offering it to me.

“Want one?” he asked, “Definitely one of the good ones. Not like those cheap gas station ones.”

Starting at it, I drunkenly blurted out “I’ve never had one… I wouldn’t know what to do.”

 Pulling the cigar in his mouth out, he handed to me before putting the unlit one in his hand and grabbed the lighter on the bar, lighting it up expertly.

“No worries guy,” he said, “Take my lit one.”

Taking it into my hand, examined it. Looking at the thick smoke floating out of the end, the thick saliva coating the cut end. Sniffing it, I let out a slight ‘woah,’ noticing that it smelled completely different than the smoke. Finally building up my courage I stuck it in my mouth, and immediately breathed in the thick smoke.

I knew, even drunkenly, this was a bad idea.

I started hacking instantly, and he let out a chuckle.

“Dude… I don’t think you’re quite ready for inhaling.”

Stubbornly, I looked at him, alcohol slowly ebbing away at my logic before I took another, smaller inhale. Fighting another cough, I held it in before letting it out in the air.

“Damn… I stand corrected,” he replied, shock written across his face as it slowly worked into a smile.

Something that very few people know about me is that I can become really hard-headed when I drink. Normally I’m rather passive and tend to go with the flow, but with the alcohol, my messy break-up, and the guy laughing, I felt like I had something to prove.

So, we continued smoking and drinking in silence, and to my dismay, my cock started getting hard. I tingled all over, and a started getting a bit of a headache.

I went to grab another scotch when Jackson finally put his hand over the glass.

“I think you’re done drinking there Buddy,” he said smiling and looking down at my bulge now obviously forming in my tight jeans, “No need to get whiskey dick.”

Looking down at his pant, I noticed a monster slowing growing in his pants too.

I let out a soft ‘holy fuck’ as I saw what easily looked like 10 inches growing in his tight leather pants. Matt had a nice sized 6” uncut cock, but we’d never fucked much since it always hurt a bit going in. We had always just sucked each other off. But for some reason, in my drink-addled mind, I almost wanted to ride this monster.

Suddenly, Jackson was kissing the side of my neck, and whispered: “why don’t we go back to your place?”

END OF PART 1

[SlampaBay]

I hope by "your place" he means the apartment with the boyfriend so they can show him what real fucking looks like, poz loads and all.

[roguematrix]

fuck great story cant wait to see what happens. love dirty cigar smoking. nothing hotter than being on your needs sucking a cock while a guy is in leather smoking a cigar. licking the ash off his boots

[just_mike69]

Very hot story. Please continue. Wish this could happen to me. 

[pozpopperpig]

Great start!  Can't wait to find out what happens next!

 

[Guest BozBear]

Hot story so far.

 

[kspozcum]

I was able to make really good time fleshing out and proof reading this chapter before work tomorrow. As asked, I tried to include some hot pipe smoking, as well as give some hot reading material.  Since I work for the next few days, I likely won't be able to update until the weekend unless I get home pretty early.  As always, enjoy guys, and let me know what you think!

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PART 2: Just a Perfect Taste of What’s to Come

The sound of running water being shut off was the first thing to wake me up. The normally soft sound hammered through my head making me cringe as all my other senses slowly started to wake up.  The first of my other senses was taste.  Jesus, I thought to myself, did I lick an ashtray?  Next, I opened my eyes only to instantly regret it as I was immediately greeted to a stray beam of sunlight coming in through the window.  My head felt like it had split open.

“So," I said to myself out loud, “This is being hung over.  Fucking hell.…”

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to sit up. This too was a bad idea.  I started coughing, and my throat felt like it was on fire, as well as a deep thickness to my chest.  Then I felt the slick wetness in my ass.  God, how drunk was I to have shit the bed? I thought to myself, but then, upon inspection, I found none of the telltale signs.

“Seriously?” I groaned out loud, “just what the fuck did I do last night?!”

“I think a better question would be what didn’t you do last night,” a deep voice asked from the bathroom. 

I jumped off the bed, shocked at the sudden intrusion of the strange voice from the bathroom.  A dull ache immediately shot through my ass, and then everything from the night before rushed back to me.  The breakup.  The bar.  The scotch.  The crying into my drink.  The smoking.  Holy shit!  The smoking!  I don’t smoke!  What in the holy fuck?  And what happened after the smoking.

I remembered that we had gotten into a car or maybe it was a truck.  We smoked and groped each other the entire way back to the hotel, and I fumbled to get the key out of my pocket.  The entire time, the hot guy from the bar… name like a president… Johnson… no… his name was Jackson, was grabbing my ass in one hand and his cigar and my crotch, licking down my neck as I puffed away on what must have been my second cigar.  We made it into the room and immediately started stripping.  Jackson, rubbing his dick through the leather pants he was wearing, watched me as I struggled drunkenly to pull off my pants.  Suddenly, he was in front of me, putting his hand on my chest and pushing me backward onto the bed.  Taking a deep inhale on the nearly spent cigar, he looked down at me and smiled before he shifted the cigar into the corner of his mouth and proceeded to expertly pull my jeans and underwear off in one swift movement. 

“Nice set your packing there son,” he replied, eyeing my now naked body.

“Thanks, your's is nice to-shiiiiiiiiit,” I replied with a slight muffle around the cigar in my mouth, as he quickly pulled the cigar out of his mouth, lifted my legs over his shoulders and began to lick and probe at my asshole with his tongue and fingers.

“Nice tasty hole too,” he continued, taking a quick break to take another puff of the cigar, “Going to love fucking that all night.  Can't wait to see it gaping after I fuck it.”

At this point, I was lost to the world, puffing away at the cigar in my mouth as this hot mountain of a man continued to work at my hole, loosening it up for the giant piece of meat in his pants.  I continued to moan as he stretched me out, first with one finger, then two.  At this point, I probably looked to the world like the chimney at a coal plant.  Cigar deep in my jaw, inhaling fully on the cigar and letting the smoke jet out of my nose and mouth.  I let out a muttered curse as he shoved another two digits into my hole, rubbing my prostate gland deep in my hole.

At this point, both of us knew what was going to happen next.  Slowly, he stood up, satisfied at his assault on my former tight hole.  Looking down at me, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small brown bottle.  Pulling my cigar out of my mouth, he set it on an ashtray.  He then handed the bottle to me, and as I went to ask him what it was for he replied, knowing already what I planned to ask.

“Open the bottle and sniff deep on them,” he said as he stepped back and started pulling his pants off.  I looked down, suddenly catching a glance at the giant, uncut ten inch cock he had firmly stuffed in his pants as the seemingly jumped out of his pants.  Even in my drunken state, my eyes grew, knowing that there was no way in hell it would fit. 

“Just sniff the bottle and let me do the rest,” he said, sensing my worry after taking a single glance at his package.  The alcohol was still coursing through my veins, as I slowly nodded and did as he said.

Being a proper medical professional, I had been a good boy all my life.  I have never drunk as a teen, smoked, did drugs or even had sex until I had met Matt in college.  Hell, I hadn't even taken anything stronger than a Tylenol until I had my wisdom teeth out at 19.  Yet, here I was, about to start sniffing poppers, smoking heavily on a cigar, no... my second cigar after getting trashed on scotch.  And set to have sex with a stranger.  All without hesitation.

At first, I felt nothing as the strange smelling fumes went up to my nose.  Then, I felt it.  Everything in my body relaxed, and I watched as the man above me slowly brought his cock towards my face.

“Want to suck me, boy?” he asked, reaching over to the table and setting the spent cigar that was formerly in his mouth into the ashtray.  I nodded and returned the smile he gave me.  Turning away, he went over to his previously forgotten leather pants and grabbed a lighter and what had to be a massive pipe out of the side pocket.  Again, it was my turn to be mesmerized.  He slowly brought the large lighter to the bowl of the pipe, lighting it with the flame, and began to slowly circle it, puffing and bring the pipe to life.  Flipping out the bottom of the lighter, he began to press the tobacco threatening to break free of the confines of the bowl back in and began to light it once again, this time bringing with it large clouds of smoke.  All I could do is watch in awe as he performed the ritual, my cock somehow getting even harder as he then turned his attention back to me.

“Daddy’s gonna need this for all the pounding he's got planned on your tight hole,” Jackson growled, letting smoke curl out of his mouth.  Walking over to me, he grabbed his dick and aimed it at my mouth. “Suck on my meat slut,” he growled at me, staring down at me on the bed through hooded eyes.

Slowly, I took him into my mouth, my jaw stretching uncomfortably as I struggled to fit him fully into my mouth.  Slowly, I was able to get deeper and deeper until I could feel him threatening to hit the back of my throat.  I grabbed his balls and began tugging on them as my gag-reflex started to kick in, eliciting a growl of approval.

“It’s time to slam into that cum-dump boy,” Jackson replied, pulling his cock out of my mouth with a loud plop.

I stared at his massive, glistening dick, a string of what had to be precum and my spit slowly dripping off the tip.  Jackson made his way back to the foot of the bed and brought my feet back above his shoulders, the large pipe resting on his lips as smoke slowly rose out of the bowl.  Reaching down, he grabbed the now forgotten bottle of poppers and my half smoked and now unlit cigar from the ashtray.  Opening the bottle, he took a few hits before putting the bottle under my nose.  I took a few hits myself and he closed the bottle before shoving the cigar in my gaping mouth.  Closing my lips around the thick cigar, he brought his now lit lighter to the edge of the stick.  I drew on it, bringing the cigar back to life slowly, inhaling with each puff.

“Good fucking cum pig…” he growled as I puffed away, “Daddy likes his cock whore smoking.”

I vaguely noticed each time he called me those dirty names that my cock jerked, and had even started dripping precum on its own as the words got nastier.  Removing the lighter, he put out the flame and threw it on the bed.  Removing the pipe out of his mouth, he worked up a load of spit and drooled it onto my openly exposed hole.  I felt my hole pucker as the warm saliva slowly moved across it.  Taking another puff of his pipe, he then spit another mouthful onto his large, veiny cock.

“Take a deep haul on the cigar you slut,” he growled, shoving the head of his dick against my hole, “Daddy’s coming home.”

I did as he said and took a deep draw on the cigar as I felt him shove his dick head against my stubborn opening.  It fought for several moments as his large cock pushed harder and harder.  Suddenly, my hole gave up the fight and I nearly screamed as ten solid inches slowly made its way into my formerly tight hole.  He rested for a minute as my hole raged against the sudden intruder deep in its depths.  Slowly, the pain ebbed away, calmed as I slowly started smoking the cigar in my jaw again.  In my pain, I had bit down somewhat on the stick, and thankfully it now sat perfectly on the side of my mouth.  As Jackson slowly started pumping in and out of my ass, I focused on the bright, glowing cherry slowly moving up the stick.  I timed his pumps into my ass and his smokey exhales with the inhales on my cigar, slowly beginning to relish on the loosening of my hole, now loosening against his steady assault.

 

Suddenly, Jackson changed positions, and with a slight grunt from him towering above me, my hole suddenly felt slicker.  We continued on with this for what felt like an hour, but in hindsight was likely only half that.  Looking down, he smiled at my hard cock, drooling from the steady slamming of the sweet spot inside my ass, and took hold of my cock, coating the palm of his hand before roughly stroking it.

“Good boy,” he let out with a low moan as my hole involuntarily squeezed hard on his dick, “You’re making Daddy so happy.  He wants to see you shoot a big load for him.  Grip onto Daddy’s dick with your fucking cumhole.”

Nodding, I complied and began to tighten my hole, immediately loving the sensation as he began to slam somehow ever harder into my ass.  Finally, I felt my balls tighten, and as I began to cum, my back and head involuntarily arched backward, my jaw gripping even tighter on to the nearly spent cigar in my mouth.   As I did so, I felt his cock slam into my ass one last time before I felt his cock twitching in my ass as he let out one final yell.

"Take all of my Daddy sperm!  It's time to knock up that hole!"

We both lay there in silence as we slowly recovered from our shared orgasm.  Stirring slightly, he rubbed his hands on my chest and pinched each of my nipples.  Eliciting another small gasp and pucker of my hole, he smiled.  We were both equally spent.  Removing my now spent cigar from my mouth, as well as his pipe, which was apparently fully smoked, he gently placed both his pipe and my cigar butt into the ashtray beside my head, and proceeded to give me a deep kiss, his large tongue sliding deep in my mouth.  After which he slowly withdrew his slowly deflating cock from my ass.

We scooted up on the bed and I must have fallen asleep, slowly tracing my finger around the scorpion shaped tattoo on his left shoulder.  And that’s when I realized what my drunken self the night before had not.  I knew that what that tattoo meant. Either this man was born at the end of October or beginning of November, or worse.  I saw that tattoo twice before, both times at work during my rotation in I.D.  I might have just let an HIV positive man come in my ass.  Without protection.

Jumping up, I let out a horrified “OH FUCK!”, both do the shock of what my stupid drunken ass had done the night before, and the now sharp sting emanating from my ass.  Sticking his head out of the bathroom, Jackson looked at me and made a small smile. 

“Sore, huh?” he asked, grinning as he stepped into the room, wearing nothing but a towel with a quickly growing tent from what was likely a semi-hard monster cock underneath.

“No! I mean… well yes… but fuck… we…” I sputtered, trying to find my words as I struggled with my sudden realization.

“Fucked?” he asked, “Yeah, and damn boy, you have a mighty fine ass.  And no way in hell you aren’t a smoker!  I’ve never seen anyone smoke like that and not be one.”

“Shit!” I yelled, starting to pace the room, “Shit-shit-shit!”

“You ok?” he asked, looking at me confused.

“No!  You’re poz, aren’t you?!” I nearly yelled, looking at him and pointing my finger.

“Um… well, yeah…?” he asked, still confused.

“SHIT!” I screamed, grabbing at my hair as I paced even faster. 

“Well, I mean I am undetectable but… Dude,” he asked slowly, “You okay?”

I stopped and stared at him for a few moments before exploding “DO I LOOK OK?! I JUST HAD UNPROTECTED SEX WITH YOU!” I yelled, starting my pacing again.

“Um, calm the fuck down,” Jackson replied, a slightly disgusted look spreading across his face.

 

“I’ve got to go get on PEP.  I gotta get tested… shit!” I muttered, my breathing quickening as everything came crashing down.

“Wait…” Jackson slowly drawled out, “You’re neg?”

“Of course I am!” I replied as I stared at him bewildered.

“Oh fuck dude…” he continued, as the realization finally struck him, “I just though you were poz since you came in the bar last night…”

“What?!” I asked, becoming confused as my mind failed to understand where his line of thought was going.

“Uh, last night was poz night at the bar… well, unofficially…” he replied, slowly making his way to the edge of bed before sitting down.  “Officially it’s “Daddy Dick” night, but well… yeah.  I figured you knew.  Everyone does.”

“Well, I fucking didn’t!” I replied, my breathing quickly increasing as tears started to form on my face.

“Look,” Jackson asked, “You obviously work in medicine right?”

Confused, I stared at him not knowing how he knew this.  Guessing at why I was confused, he pointed to the closet.

“I hung up my clothes and noticed the scrubs and doctor tools and stuff.  I’m going to guessing nurse, maybe?  Med student?  Obviously too young to be a doc.”

Slowly, I nodded, trying to follow his logic.

“Well, I’m fully medicated and undetectable,” he continued, “So your chances of actually contracting it are what?”

“At most, 0.45% over the course of a year of unprotected sex… or less depending on the study you read,” I replied, automatically blurting out one of the millions of facts I had picked up along my course.

“So essentially nil,” Jackson said.

“But it’s not impossible,” I replied, nervous but more slightly relieved. 

“Thank god you only came in me once.”

“Well,” Jackson replied, a fond smile on his face, ”more like three times.  I tend to come several times when I really get into it.”

Tension filled my body as I slowly looked over at him.

“Not helping,” I ground out, “ Really, really not helping. But thanks for trying.”

“Jake, right?” he asked, waiting for me to shaking my head in affirmation before he continued, getting up from the bed and pulling on his clothing, adding “Look, I kinda get where you're coming from.  I was somewhat in your shoes once not all that long ago."  He looked down at his watch before continuing.  "I have to head to work.  Maybe it would be a good idea to wrap your head around what happened last night.”

I slowly nodded, secretly fighting the mildly nauseous feeling deep in my stomach as he continued.

“I had fun, you seemed to have fun too.  And frankly, I’d love to do it again.  But only when you want to.”

“I… uh…. thanks…” I replied, still unsure of how to reply, my mind racing.  Surely it had been one of those drunken one-time things.  I’m not one to those types of guys.  I don’t do those types of things.  Right?

“Here,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing me a business card from inside, “Take it.  Has my cell on it.  If you ever want to pick up from here, let me know.  Or if you just need someone as a contractor for your house.”

Nodding, I slowly willed my self to politely take the card as he made his way to the door.

“Take care,” he replied, lifting his hand behind him.  Softly I muttered a 'you too' as he softly closed the door.

I sat in silence for a few moments.  Looking around the room, I saw my phone sticking slightly out of my pocket, abandoned in the activities the night before.  Gingerly, I stood up and pulled the phone out, placing my finger over the home button.  I frowned as the screen remained stubbornly dead.

“Damn it…” I sighed, making my way to the bag and after a short search, finding the thin white cord and power block.  Looking around, I finally saw a power port on the bedside lamp and grabbed my boxers, plugged the phone and pulled on my underwear.  Soon enough, my phone lit up and a small ding emanated from it.  With a sigh, I grabbed it and stared at the screen which reported 47 missed calls, 101 text messages and 35 voicemail. All undoubtedly from Matt.

“Fuck…” I muttered, rubbing my hand on my face, “Isn’t this just a perfect taste of what’s to come?”

END OF PART 2

[Hellboy]

Hot dude.... more

[masctravelingpup]

Hi, so so so so super hot.   I fantasize about scenes just like this all the time.   You sure you aren't me?  Lol.  Thanks!  

[roguematrix]

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK that was hot as hell

[shinelover]

Great story, I'm enjoying the build-up. Keep it cumming!! 

[masctravelingpup]

Fuckimg hot 

[pozpopperpig]

Love this!  More please!

[kspozcum]

Sorry for the delay in updates. This next one will get a bit wordy, but there is a lot of information I needed to get in there to make the story make sense, and  I promise that I end it on a worthwhile note. Again, thanks for all the replies, and I look forward to any input.
--
PART 3: Becoming a Good Neighbor

Looking up from my laptop, I watched as two of my classmates walked up, finishing their rounds for the evening before we sat and completed our charts.

“Hey, Erika. Hey, Steve,” I softly said, not looking up from what felt like the hundredth chart I had written that night.

Both said a quick ‘hey’ before dropping their laptops next to mine. Looking over, I saw Erika finger what felt like the millionth bouquet sent to me by my ass of an ex in the last 3 weeks.

Erika, a short red-head that I first met back in pre-med, is hands down my best friend. She barely comes up to my chin, but what she lacks in height, she definitely makes up for it in feistiness. We met at a mixer one night in the dorms and was actually the one to introduce me to my douche of an ex. At this moment, she was single, having dumped her ex after they had a fight over the long hours she always put in. 

Steve, on the other hand, is tall, black, and frankly one of the few guys I had ever lusted over and hit on. Smart, quick to make a comeback, and he and his fiancé, a nurse at another hospital, are one of the cutest couples I ever met. Sadly for me, he was 100% straight, but still extremely cool, if not a little too knowledgeable about the gay world, besting me on all sorts of insights.

“I see he really doesn’t give up…” she replied, grabbing the card and looking inside, “God, what a sappy note. ‘I love you with all my heart. Being without you is like missing a piece of my soul.’ Talk about contrived. If that fucker didn’t want to lose you, maybe he should have kept it in his pants. It’s been what, 2 weeks?”

“Nope he still hasn’t, and it’s been 3 weeks,” I said, finally finishing up my last chart and after clicking log out, closed the lid of the laptop.

Grabbing it and my few paper charts, I put each away; the laptop back into its cradle on the counter behind us, and the charts in the ‘To File’ pile. I began to stretch, hearing and feeling several loud pops emirate from my back.

“And they’re going into the trash, just like all the rest,” I said, going to the small closet behind the nurse's station. Pulling out my jacket, I began to shoulder on the thick material, thankful that I had forgotten the coat for nearly a year and yet to be stolen. The weather had taken a sudden dip into an early winter, and I knew I would definitely be needing it.

“Screw that!” Steve replied, grabbing the vase before I could, “Can I have them?”

I stopped and stared at Steve. “Ok…. why do you want a dozen red roses?” I asked, confused before adding the sly, “Did you something you want to tell Erika and I about the requires roses at home?”

“Fuck no!” he replied with an eye roll before continuing. “It’s just that nurses love them. Especially mine. You want something from them, just give them flowers and candy.” 

“Shit… should have thought of that myself!” Erika said, trying to make a grab at the glass vase as Steve pulled them out of her reach.

“Nope. Mine,” he laughed, watching as she tried to jump and grab them, profanities spewing from her mouth as his tall frame easily surmounting her much shorter stature. 

“You can have the next one, dear, ” I said, hanging up my white coat before starting work on the zipper, “I’m sure there will be more tomorrow.”

“And just where are you off to?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows and looking at the clock, obviously surprised at my early departure, knowing I usually was the last to leave since I had set up camp in the small on call room down the hall.

“House hunting. Found a really decent place for like $800 a month. It’s fully furnished and not all that far away. Have to get there before 5:30 so I can check it out.” I replied, checking to make sure I had my phone and wallet before making my way from behind the counter. “I’m tired of staying in the on-call room here, hospital food sucks ass, and I’m getting really tired of having to live out of a duffle bag.”

“Jesus! What’s wrong with it that it’s that cheap? I’d come with to help you, but on call tonight.” Erika replied, her eyes growing large at the admittedly too good to be true deal.

“Yeah, what she said,” Steve added. 

“No idea, but it’s got to be better than living in a hospital, and it’s in my price range. Even seems like a pretty new place and has perfect access to the streetcar line. My only guess is that there's a night club or something,” I replied, pulling up the listing from my phone broker before hand the phone to them.

“Niiiiice,” they both replied, as I pocketed my phone again.

“Ten bucks says someone was murdered there, probably a serial killer like in American Psycho,” Steve guessed, looking back down at his screen and typing.

“Nope, $20 bucks says it's definitely the site of a porno,” Erika added, doing the same, “Probably a giant homo-fest filled with big cocks shooting everywhere like a Super Soaker. I bet if you took a black light with you, it’d look like a Jackson Pollock painting in there.”

“You’re on,” replied Steve.

“Lame jokes from both of you, I expected better, “ I called behind me, making my towards the elevator, ”Wish me luck!”

Pressing the down button, the doors quickly opened to reveal my least favorite person in our class.

Alex Ranker, aka Ranker the Wanker as Matt called him. Though I hated Matt now, I still agreed it was a perfect thing to call the guy. Alex was one of those guys that seemed to have it all. His parents were rich, his mother an heiress to some fruit company out east, his father a famous lawyer in New York. The guy was literally perfect. Perfect tan, perfect teeth, perfectly trimmed dirty blond hair, perfect body. Until he opened his mouth. He’d been known to harass the nurses and other students alike, to the point nobody wanted to work with him. And yet, it seemed like he could do no wrong in the eyes of the attending doctors.

My level of hatred started back at the beginning of residency when they had a dinner at the hospital for everyone and their spouses to visit. I had run to the restroom, only to come out and find Mr. Douche himself feeling up my then boyfriend. He didn’t even bat an eye as we kissed when I got back and proceeded to ask for Matt’s number. Needless to say, I still hated the guy with a passion.

Looking up from his phone, he gave a slight smirk at me. I fought not to let my thoughts about the douche reach my face, and stepped onto the elevator next to him, watching as the door closed. I stared ahead for a few minutes when Wanker opened his mouth and started speaking.

“I hear you and that hot British guy broke up,” he said, immediately getting under my skin, “Must have finally realized he could do a lot better than someone like you. I’ll have to get his number sometime. Show him what a real man is.”

Wanker was also a notorious man-whore, having been caught with both male and female nurses all over the hospital. A true one and done type of guy. Every week, the staff would have to cheer up whoever he had used and dumped. The latest was the new nurse in the neonatal unit. Told her at the nursing station to grow up and get over herself. And that he’d had much better all the time. He at least was now iced out of that floor. 

This was opposed to me. I tried every day to treat the nurses as a team, helping them whenever I could and listening to their complaints. And who after the recent break-up, constantly had the sympathy vote on his side. The difference between us proving ‘never piss off the nurses.’

“Yep,” I replied through gritted teeth,  “Caught him in bed with a neighbor. Apparently, he only likes pussy now. Also likely has a bad case of gono knowing what he was on. So enjoy that. He’s all yours.”

Slightly satisfied at how my reply had shut the dick up, I rushed the doors the second they opened to the lobby and quickly made my way to the entrance.

—

Luckily, the streetcar was only a block away, and my wait out in the biting cold was a blissfully short one.

I stared blankly out the window, letting my mind wander to that night 3 weeks earlier, and nearly found myself missing my stop. I felt my cheeks redden a little as  I looked down and saw the guy sitting in front of me who was forced to stare at the obvious bulge in my scrub pants. I made brief eye contact before I moved away and looked pointedly out the windows of the tram.

Hurriedly, I hopped off, and walked down the block towards the apartment building, having memorized where I needed to go. Looking around, I caught a few brief glances of the area. A few small shops, several restaurants, even what looked to be a bookstore nearby. Then there was the building with blacked out windows and bars right next door to where I was going.

Nightclub maybe? I asked myself, slightly slowing down as I walked past. The sign above the door stated ‘Stroud’s.’

However, there were no other identifying features, so I kept walking past. I walked into the lobby of the apartment and was greeted by a receptionist, a hot younger guy, possibly of Indian descent.

“Are you Jake?” he asked, a mild Middle Eastern accent in his voice.

“Um… yeah, how’d you know?” I asked, slightly put off by how this guy knew exactly who I was.

“I’m Amal. Greg, our manager, and leasing agent is the one you spoke to this morning. He’s in his office,” he replied, extending his hand and shaking mine, “Follow me.” 

I followed Amal to the room behind him, taking in the appearance of the apartment lobby. It was obvious that the building was a former hotel, and an old one at that. Thankfully, whoever owned the building hadn’t completely gutted it on its renovation, leaving many of the old styled flourishes around, while still adding an interest modern flair. I knew instantly I would love the place, at least until I found out why it was so cheap.

The receptionist opened the door and I saw Greg. Holy shit! I thought to myself, have I walked into the Twilight Zone?

Before me was a man who I could swear at first was Jackson. He had same dark hair, graying at the temples. He also obviously spent half his life at the gym, his chiseled torso hidden just barely by an expensive looking suit and tie. A nice, square chin and piercing gray eyes added to his masculine look, with high-end designer glasses completing the look, giving him the air of a model. However, as I looked closer, I noticed a few differences between the two. No piercings, no beard, his voice was a little less deep, hair cut was definitely different. He had a phone to one ear talking away to what must have been a tenant, and with a brief wave, I sat down in one of the chairs in front of him.

“Can I get you anything?” Amal asked from the doorway, breaking me from my mild stupor.

“Um, no, I’m good,” I replied, giving a small smile. Quietly, Amal shut the door, as I turned my attention back to the building manager.

“Yes Mrs. Goodwin, I’ll have maintenance get on that as soon possible. Yes… yes, ma’am. Thank you again for reporting it. I truly apologize for the inconvenience. Yes… Yes, ma’am. UH-huh… Okay, thank you,” he spoke, before finally hanging up the phone. 

Looking down, he began to look through the many sticky notes on his desk, looking for a particular one. “ Thanks for waiting. Sorry, it took so long getting off the phone, Mister… uh… sorry… Doctor…”

“Harding. Please, just call me Jake,” I replied, shaking his hand as he extended it out.

“Nice to meet you, Jake. I take it it’s getting quite cold outside?” he asked, turning his attention to the computer screen next to him, clicking on something, “You’re here to see…. 1201 was it? The one bed, one bath fully furnished?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” I replied, forcing myself to stop imagining the quickly darkening things I’d do with the man in front of me, quickly starting to mirror what I had done with Jackson.

“And you want a… immediate move in if possible I see. And you’ve already completed the application… thanks for getting that done so fast,” he continued, reading the screen, “And I see you’re well qualified for the apartment. No pets, and no need for a deposit… Great!” he replied, reaching into the desk and pulling out a small electronic key card, “We can show the apartment now if you’d like?”

Nodding, I followed him back to the lobby, standing behind him as he pressed the call button for the elevator. Quickly I stopped myself from looking at his ass as he turned around to face me.

“So, as you can tell, this used to be a hotel. It was built back in 1907,” he began, pointing out different points in the lobby as he began his tour of the building. “We recently renovated last year. We tried to keep the historical integrity of the building, but everything that couldn’t be saved has been updated. There’s fiber internet in the building, as well as 24-hour security. And the front desk is staffed from 9 am until 11 pm every day. We have a small gym on the 2nd floor, as well as a pool behind the lobby. There is a small attached parking garage, but those are an additional $100 a month per space.”

I nodded as he told me these things. Seeing as I had no car, the parking wasn’t a big deal. But still, I kept telling myself that there was no way this place could be this nice at the current price and not have something wrong with it yet. 

The doors of the antique looking elevator opened up, revealing a surprisingly updated looking interior.

“The elevator works with your room key, and will only take you to your floor and the common access areas. We also made sure to set it up so that you can use your phone, and that you can send a temporary access code to anyone you wish. It will also allow them to access your apartment door if you aren't home.”

I slyly watched him as the elevator quickly climbed upward, taking in the nice profile presented to me as he continued to wax about the history of the building. For once, I was really beginning to enjoy not being attached to someone. Especially the no fearing the repercussions of checking someone out. The downside though was not having done anything for 3 weeks, which was really starting to make me horny.

The doors opened to reveal a long, well-lit hallway, the seemingly never ending length giving my a slight vibe of something out of The Shining. I half expected those creepy twin girls to appear and start asking me to play with them. Directly across the hall was my possible apartment.

“As you can tell, it's near the elevator,” the manager continued, “But we made sure to add extra sound proofing to prevent any noise problems.” He swiped the card above the door lock, and with a slight whir, the door unlocked. Opening it, I followed him in, looking around the room as he turned on the lights.

I was stunned. The place looked amazing. The pictures from the internet showed empty rooms, and the images had not done the place justice. Tall ceilings, with what had to be the original decorative crown moldings. Granite counters, high-end loft furniture, stainless steel appliances, exposed brick and hardwood floors everywhere. And even an amazing view of downtown. There was even a large flat panel tv and what looked to be one of those high-tech smart thermostats. I began to feel almost unnerved. Why in the world wasn’t this place taken?

The tour continued to the bedroom with a well appointed and fully updated on-suite bath, again looking like something out of a magazine for the rich and famous, and not something that was more in the pricing of a fresh out of college student. 

“As you can see, we went to a lot of lengths to update the apartment and all the furniture comes with it at $150 a month. After a 3 year lease, they will pretty much be yours. We currently don’t have them installed, but it will also come with a high-efficiency washer and dryer as well if you need it. This unit was previously the model unit, but since we’ve recently finished the top 10 floors, we’re trying to get rid of this one. Also, we have a deal with the former housekeeping staff and they provide cleaning once every week for another $75 a month.”

“Um… it’s great…. but…” I replied, perplexed at how such a great find wasn’t already taken. This place was nicer than anything I could have hoped to live in.

“Let me guess…” Greg intoned, “How is something like this still on the market?”

“Yeah…” I replied, looking around again, “Did someone die in here… or is it haunted or…”

“Well,” he started, looking a little embarrassed, “I do have to be up front. There are a few problems with the place. First, you’ll have Mrs. Goodwin, the lovely lady I was speaking to earlier as a neighbor. She’s very nice if a bit… well, crazy. Don't get me wrong, very sweet, and if you ever want great food, she is an excellent cook and loves for people to try it. But she tends to like to know every little thing about people. You can usually avoid her as long as you aren’t in the hallway at certain hours. Also, she has a bad habit of trying to fix her children up with other tenants. The closer they are, the more she pushes it.”

Having had an (albeit much lesser) similar experience with our previous neighbor, this fact didn’t phase me.

“OK, I’ve had my share of nosy neighbors, so not a big deal there. And I guess it's nice actually knowing who your neighbors are. I’m guessing there’s more though?” I asked.

“Well, there is the fact of the neighborhood,” he replied. “This area is still in transition, and the crime is a tiny bit higher than other areas. But nothing major. It’s a pretty safe place to live. There is a lot of very nice places to shop and eat, and the street car is right down the street. But we do have a certain… erm… the element that resides here and has no plans of leaving.”

“So, gangs? The mob? Satanists?” I asked half-jokingly, not quite following his logic.

“Oh God, no, nothing like that,” he replied, “It’s just… well, I’m sure you saw that place next door. Stroud’s.”

“Sure, “ I replied, remembering walking past the place next door. “Is it a nightclub? If so, I don’t think it would be a problem this high up would it?”

“Oh. Um, no… it’s a….” he replied, looking even more flustered, “You don’t get easily offended do you?”

“I’m a doctor, so no… seeing strange things and people is part of my job,” I replied.

“Well, it's actually an adult bookstore. And apparently pretty popular as well, especially with the male population. It’s actually the reason why we have had so much trouble filling the unit,” he stated, “People don’t really like telling their friends to go the apartment complex next to the gay bookstore. Especially with the rumors around it. It’s really pretty seedy. We’ve tried to talk the city into closing it down, but apparently, the owner has a lot of connections in city hall. That and the owner has a private sauna a block away. With those two elements, we tend to have a problem with a lot of our more conservative renters being driven away. We had an issue with our last tenant as well, which required us to have them evicted. Corporate really strives for full occupancy, so I’ve tried to price it to sell. You’re the best candidate we’ve had yet.”

I felt a stir in my pants as I realized exactly what he meant by seedy gay bookstores. I’d recently started reading about such things online, bored at night with the call room to myself. Likely, this adult bookstore was one of those rare finds. Possibly even one of the ones with private theaters.

“Other than those problems, it's a lovely unit. What are your thoughts on the place?” Greg replied, looking as though I was likely to bolt out of the place and never return.

“Actually, compared with the things I see at work,” I said, taking a final look around, “Those things are really rather mild. You’d be amazed at the things people do in the bedroom that put them in the emergency room.”

With a slight laugh, we exited the room and made our way back to the elevator.

“So, like you said, you’re wanting to move in as soon as possible?” Greg asked, following me into the elevator as the doors opened with a slight thump.

“I’d say today, but I’m sure that…” I started to say before he immediately interrupted.

“We can do that!” he exclaimed. “If you want, we can have someone from the cleaning staff do a once over. We just have some paperwork, and if you can make the first month’s rent payment and the application fee, we will be able to get you in tonight about 8 or 9 pm. Would that work?”

Shocked, I nodded my head, amazed at how quickly I could take possession of the place. 

We spent the next hour signed what felt like a mountain of paperwork and the swipe of my debit card, we exchanged handshakes and Greg gave me the small plastic card. I left the building, running back to the hospital to get my duffle bag, and then returned, off to grab dinner and explore the neighborhood.

I took in a light dinner at the Thai place across from the streetcar stop and set off to explore in the quickly dying late fall sunset. I walked into a few shops, surprised at how many were open until later in the evening. I even spied a small tobacconist shop, which made me think back to the hot night from 3 weeks before yet again. I ignored the shop though, looking at my watch.

It was time for my apartment to be done. So, I walked back to the building before I spied several people walking into the adult bookstore. I felt myself get hard yet again. I walked back into my building, waving at Amal, and rode the elevator back up, setting my bag into the bedroom and changing into normal clothes before deciding to bite the bullet and check out the bookstore.

—

Stepping into the store, it looked like any other adult bookstore I had seen before. An ever shrinking movie section (thanks in large part to the internet), toys ranging from small to impossibly large, leather, clothing and edible panties, even the occasional ball gag and whip. I wasn’t that impressed until I noticed a second entrance to the back of the shop. I walked up to the attended, and with a slight blush on my face, asked what was further in.

The attendant definitely looked like a skinhead. Shaved, bald head, with piercings everywhere. Fishnet shirt and leather pants. He appeared to be reading a Harry Potter book, and with a sigh, he stopped reading and flipped over the book.

“First time?” he asked with raised eyebrows, looking at me with an appraising glance.

“Yeah,” I said, “Just moved in nearby and thought I’d be a good neighbor and check out things.”

I flashed a slight smile, fearing my nervousness was showing, to which he warmly returned. 

“Normally, it's a $10 fee for non-members to enter the theater, but since you’ve never been, it’s on me,” he said, pressing what must be a button to open the door. A buzzing noise came from the door.

“Enjoy, buddy,” he said with a somewhat wicked smile.

I opened it and walked inside. I immediately was met with a lit stairway down. Walking down I entered a dimly lit hallway. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the red lighting.

I walked around, but the halls seemed empty, each door closed. Finally, I found an open door leading to a booth. Stepping inside, I closed the door. Looking around, I noticed a large screen with a bill feeder under it. Sitting down, I pulled out my wallet and grabbed a few dollars and stuffed them in.

The TV turned on and started showing a video of two girls making out naked. Looking around the edge of the screen, I finally found the controls and flipped around until I found one of what appeared to be a group of guys fucking in various positions around a tiled room. I sat back and watched, slowly feeling a rise in my pants.

After a while, the scene changed to a young guy, looking somewhat similar to myself, with a line of all the guys waiting to take a turn on his ass. One thing stuck out to me, however. Not a single one appeared to be wearing a condom.

I felt my cock throb and building up courage, I pulled my pants down and slowly started stroking myself. There I sat, stroking my cock for several minutes, zoning out to the hot video in front of me when I heard a sudden tapping to my right.

Startled, I stopped what I was doing and turned to see where the noise was coming from.

Sticking out from a crude hole in the wall was a thick, uncut cock, probably about 7 inches long. I gulped and licked my lips watching as it throbbed slightly, a drop of precum slowly forming on the piss slit.

Slowly, I reached out and grabbed it, stroking it and myself at the same time. This made the owner groan, slamming hard against the wall. I continued to stroke the guy until a voice with a thick accent called out, muffled by the wall.

“Suck me.”

This caught me off guard. I let go for a second, starting at the hard piece in front of me. Suddenly, I acted, slowly licking and then taking the cock into my mouth. I ran my lounge along the underside, sucking hard as I pulled off, making the guy groan even louder. After a few minutes of sucking, I felt him pull out. At first, I was upset, wanting to continue to suck him to completion. Until his face appeared at the hole.

“Let me suck you,” the face replied, in what sounded to me like a thick Spanish accent. I started his face for a moment. The guy had soft pink lips and a slight mustache. In the blue glow of the tv (now forgotten), I slowly stood up and began to feed him my cock.

Damn the guy could suck. His warm wet mouth wrapped around my cock, sucking like a vacuum cleaner. Every time he got to the tip, he would run his tongue into the opening, making me squirm in delight. I felt myself getting closer, and just before getting to the point of no return, he pulled off and stepped away from the glory-hole.

“Fuck,” I muttered, looking into the hole and seeing him pull up his pants and walk over to the door before opening it and leaving the booth. Resigned, I went to finish myself off and pull my pants back up and leave, when I heard a knock at the door.

“Double fuck,” I said, looking at the screen realizing that the money had run out in the video machine. Most likely the attendant, as I recalled my knowledge of how a video arcade worked.

Pulling out my wallet, feeding another few bills on the machine. Hearing another knock, I turned back, pulling my pants back up slightly and opening the door.

“Sorry, I just refilled the…” I started to say to the attendant, but instead was greeted with a hot, late 20ish Latino guy, “oh…. um… can I help you…”

He pushed his way in, closing the door quickly and immediately locked lips with me. We proceeded to make out, grabbing and stroking each other, my cock still on the edge of release. His breath smelled of smoke, immediately turning me on.

Finally, we parted, each gasping for air. I slowly recovered as he licked his lips and quickly asked me something I never expected to hear.

“Let me in your hole?” he asked, pulling out a small brown bottle, opening it up and taking a few hits from.

I instantly recognized the bottle from my night with Jackson. Poppers. My cock throbbed at the idea of the sensation. He held the bottle out to me as he started stroking his cock.  Grabbing the bottle, I took several hits and handed it back to him.

“Uh… sure,” I said, starting to feel the rush from the poppers reaching my brain before adding a quick, “As long as you let me do the same.”

A quick nod was his only reply was before he turned me around and bent me over.

I felt him reach behind himself and realized that he was grabbing lube from the dispenser on the back of the room. I quickly felt him rub some on my hole and then looked back to see him rubbing it on himself.

“Wait…” I said, looking back at his cock, “You got a condom?” 

He shook his head no, before replying.

“Most guys here don’t want them, so I never bring them. You got one?”

I already knew I didn’t have one.

I was torn. I wanted sex. Bad. But I had already learned the hard way about taking a bare cock. Hormones raging through my bloodstream, my brain fought to think logically, failing at the ebb of poppers in my mind.

Finally, my mind came up with an answer as I asked, “You clean?”

“Sure” he replied with a slight shrug, and with that, I bent over.

Slowly, I felt him press his cock against my hole as I took a deep breath in.

END OF PART 3

[freshxtop5]

So fucking hot! I can't wait to read more I have been jacking off to part 2 a lot! Love a big uncut cock myself