How True Love Happened
by webb025@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the
legal age to read this, or are offended by the idea of male-male
sex or mind control, DO NOT read further.
I had a weird experience last Saturday. I had just moved from
campus housing to an off-campus apartment in an artsy sort of
neighborhood. Since I needed to furnish the place, but didn't
exactly have a sizable budget, I went to a big community yard
sale, where there was quite a large selection of goods on offer.
Among other things, I bought an old and somewhat beat-up desk
that a friend of mine helped me get to the apartment. Once I'd
cleaned off the outside, I started working on cleaning the
drawers. In the bottom drawer, I discovered two manila envelopes,
each containing a set of notes. I read the first one I pulled
out, which got me all hot and bothered, you'll see why. Then I
read the second one, which was clearly written using the same
pen and on the same type of notepaper, but in a different
handwriting. And when I read that one, I got hotter and harder
than I ever had in my life. Here below, in the order I read
them, is the contents of each of the two sets of notes. The
first one was in a broad, flowery sort of handwriting, with
big-looped L's and the occasional heart used to dot an "i":
I'm so happy, so totally in love. I've never known the happiness
I have with Jeff. He's so masculine, so perfect. Sometimes when
he's sleeping next to me, and I'm too worked up to sleep, I love
to just lie there and admire his body, his long brown hair, his
beautiful hands, and especially, his feet. When I think he's fast
asleep, I'll spend time looking excitedly at the perfection of
his incredible feet, and I'll start sniffing and nibbling around
his toes. The aroma down there is almost eough to get me off
instantly; but I know I can't get off, I have to save my orgasms
for HIM. Yes, it's a fetish, but I can't help it. He's my perfect
man, and I'm so lucky to have him.
My life is kind of organized around him. We're both students at
*** College, but he's the one with the big career up ahead, and
I do what I can to help him with his studies. I can't really
help him directly, since I'm a bit of a scatterbrain, so I just
help him organize his notes, wash his clothes, drive him places,
and so on. I may take the next few terms off of school to help
him full time, and I may go to work nearby, maybe at the local
hamburger joint or discount store. My studies really don't matter,
since he's the one with the future. Once I leave school, I'll be
totally content just to be his housewife. He's so smart and
capable, I'm sure he'll earn enough for both of us.
I'm totally gay and somewhat effeminate, even though it might
not show when I'm walking down the street. Well, actually you
might guess it from the rainbow design of my tank top that shows
off my strong upper body and biceps, and which I usually wear
with cut offs that display my muscled legs to best advantage.
I know working on my body for HIM has paid off, since I was
actually offered a job as an exotic dancer at the gay club
Jeff sometimes takes me to show me off. I kind of liked the
idea because it offered good money, but Jeff wouldn't let me
do it, since he wants me exclusively. Well, almost exclusively,
but I'll tell you about that later.
I truly love being totally gay, since it makes it possible for
me to have a life with Jeff. I've known him since we were both
in the seventh grade in a town about an hour away by car. Also
at the college originally from our town are two lesbian friends,
Heather and Dana. They live together in the same apartment
building we're in, and they are also obviously very much in
love. Dana is clearly the head of that household, while Heather
is the pretty scatterbrain like me. But Dana is also "man enough"
for the both of them. The four of us have known each other all
these years, and our relationships have grown over time.
Sometimes the four of us will go together to a party or to see
a movie.
I love the feeling that I can rely on my man. If I had to rely
on myself, I'd be completely lost. And I'm so happy he likes
my body. I'm physically bigger than he is, nearly a foot taller
in fact, and I work out so I will stay beautiful for him, but
even though he's smaller and looks less built, he's much
stronger than I'll ever be. As if to prove it, he'll playfully
wrestle me onto the floor, pinning me helplessly in some
painful position until I surrender. Then he'll climb on top of
me and stick his tongue down my throat. For a guy his size, he's
sure got a long strong tongue, and he knows how to use it to
drive me wild. Or sometimes he'll climb on top of me while I'm
lying there helpless, and he'll shove his sneaker or bare foot
in my face and order me to lick it. I don't really need his
order, I mean it would take all my effort NOT to lick it once he
stuck it there. There's something really special about his feet
that I love. Sometimes in my fantasies I imagine that worshiping
his feet has changed me into a big overgrown puppy, sleeping
contentedly next to them.
I'm very happy with my everyday life. On days when I have no
classes and I'm working around the house cleaning, dusting and
cooking, I don't like to wear clothes. I don't know why, they
just feel constraining. And when I know when he's coming home
at any moment, I like to get myself hard so he'll see me all
sweaty from housework and totally erect when he walks in the
door, since I know he likes that.
I mentioned earlier that Jeff sometimes likes having me to
himself ALMOST exclusively. On a few occasions, though, he's
made an exception. I remember the first time he did it. Jeff
has always had a very persuasive way with people. I don't know
how he does it, but he seems to be able to make a suggestion
that comes from him, say for someone to do something, appear
to be the other person's idea, no matter how far out. Late one
evening he came home with someone else in tow, actually a well-
known member of the school's swim team. The guy had clearly
been drinking or something, since he stumbled once or twice
on the way into the apartment. Jeff guided him to the stuffed
chair in our living room, and plopped him into it; the guy
seemed dazed and confused. To my surprise, when Jeff told him
to lift his arms so Jeff could pull his shirt off, he
immediately did it without changing his expression. He was even
taller than I am, and once his shirt was off, I could see he
had a beautiful upper body, naturally of the smooth, lithe
swimmer variety rather than the football type. I could also
see that there was not a body hair to be seen anywhere, on his
chest or in his armpits. I thought he might shave it to improve
his swimming speed, but then I noticed he hadn't shaved his
head, in fact his jet black hair was on the long side, and I
realized it wasn't even the season for swim competitions.
Jeff said a few words into his ear, and he stood unsteadily
and walked into the bedroom. Jeff told me to come into the
bedroom as well. When I got there, I saw that the swimmer had
stripped completely naked and was lying stretched out on the
bed. I greatly admired his body, and saw that the shaving of
his body hair had not been limited to his chest and armpits,
but extended to everywhere below his head. Of course with Jeff
standing in the doorway, it was HIM I was focused on sexually.
After a few words from Jeff, though, I suddenly found the
swimmer irresistably beautiful, and he seemed to feel the same
way. He and I immediately started to wrap ourselves around each
other, kissing and licking like maniacs. I was vaguely aware
that Jeff was still standing in the doorway watching,
occasionally saying something, but I couldn't really pay
attention. Everything on the swimmer was very LONG, and soon
we were in a 69 position working on each other's dripping dicks.
Just as it seemed we couldn't go any further without exploding,
Jeff said something and we stopped.
The swimmer and I both noticed that Jeff was now sitting on
the edge of the bed, pants and shoes off, but with his shirt
and socks still on, rubbing himself through his boxers. He
looked so gorgeous sitting there that the swimmer and I
immediately leaped off the bed and got on all fours at his feet,
me at his right and the swimmer at his left, and began tugging
his socks off with our teeth. Once they were off, each of us
worked the incredibly beautiful foot in front of us with our
hands, noses and tongues, while Jeff moaned in pleasure. Then,
practically in unison, the swimmer and I worked our tongues up
Jeff's masculine down-covered legs an inch at a time. I arrived
at Jeff's right knee almost exactly when the swimmer got to his
left knee, and then we worked our way up Jeff's inner thighs
until we both got to his incredible cock. It wasn't nearly as
long as either of ours, but it was perfect in every way, much,
much better than ours. Finally, our tongues worked either side
of his cock, using our skills to bring Jeff to an amazing climax.
As he shot load after load, I had to wrestle with the swimmer
to get as much as I could down my throat. What we both missed
at first, we competed to clean off the floor with our tongues.
When we were done, I immediately fell asleep right there on the
floor.
When I woke up, the swimmer was gone, and I was in bed with Jeff.
He was mussing my hair as if I was a little kid. Which I was,
really, his BIG little kid. "So, did you like that, big guy?"
he asked. "I've had my eye on that guy for awhile, and I've been
working on him for a couple of weeks, and I thought you'd enjoy
the change of routine."
"Oh, Jeff," I gushed, kissing him. "It was incredible, but you
know I never get tired of whatever you do. Whenever you're
here, it's like your being here is your gift to me." He chuckled
a bit and continued to stroke my hair. He said something softly
and I suddenly had a feeling of total contentment, knowing my
life was as perfect as it could be.
So that's the story of the first of our "non-exclusive"
sessions. The swimmer came back a few times, sometimes dressed
in different costumes under his coat so he could assume different
roles in our lovemaking. Once he had on a Roman gladiator outfit,
once a girl's dress, once a Superman costume. I never knew you
could get any of those for a 6'6" guy. But a few words from Jeff
and I always knew what to do when he came over. Later, one or
two other guys would come by with Jeff, usually the tall or built
athletic type that Jeff enjoys, always with that dazed and
confused look the first time, but always totally responsive to
Jeff's suggestions. Sometimes I would see them later while
walking around on campus, and they would look at me as if they
recognized me from somewhere, but couldn't quite remember where.
I think one of Jeff's favorite sessions was when he brought in
the most built guy I had ever seen at the school -- a musclebound
football lineman weighing close to 300 pounds -- and made him
imagine he was a slutty, submissive teenage girl that Jeff and
I completely pushed around and sexually dominated as if we were
gang members. But however exciting these sessions, Jeff has
always let me know that whatever we do, it's me he loves.
Jeff is having me write this while he is in the kitchen
discussing something important with Dana. He handed me this
notepad and told me to describe how I felt about myself and our
life together, including our sex life. As you can see, I couldn't
imagine being any happier.
Love, [the o is a heart]
Chrissie
The second note is written in a terse, tight handwriting,
sometimes hard to read because the writer obviously didn't
think penmanship was important, or was in a hurry. When I
first glanced at it, I thought it might have been written
by Jeff, the friend of the writer of the first note. I wasn't
too far into it when I realized who had actually written it:
I'm writing this because I'm concerned with certain things
that are happening in my life at the moment, and if anything
bad happens I want these things written down so someone will
know about it. I may be imagining much of this, but just in
case, I need to write this and leave it where someone can
find it.
My junior year at *** High School is ending, and I'm preparing
my college applications. I've been one of the best students
at the school, although I seem to have slipped a bit lately
academically, which may just be a preliminary bout of
"senioritis", at least I hope so. I've always been very
focused as a student, which has helped me learn alot and gotten
me an honor or two along the way. And I know from a few short
internships that I have a great future ahead of me in field of
law. As a result, there are several good school choices I have,
but I'm definitely leaning towards *** College. It's pretty
prestigious, it has a great prelaw program that is a known as
a feeder path to a nearby top-five law school, and best of all,
it's located about two hours from home, close enough for the
occasional weekend trip, but not that so close that I'd be
expected home all the time. Plus I think I can earn a spot on
their nationally-ranked rowing team; I've been busily working
on my upper body strength to improve my performance on our
school's crew, and I'm pretty good.
My concern involves a friend of mine named Jeff. I've known
him since Junior High, and back then we were pretty good
friends. Although I was more into school athletics than he was,
since I'm physically quite more developed, we were both smart,
and shared similar interests. Of course that was around the
time I first really started to notice girls, and by the time
we got to high school I was tight with a really bright and
good-looking girl named Heather. What with classes, sports,
extracurricular activies, and Heather, there really wasn't
much time I had for Jeff. He'd invite me over to his house
and I would keep turning him down, since I had other things
to do, places to go, and so on. Without trying to sound too
snobby, I was really with a different crowd at that point,
I guess what you might call the "popular" group, while he
hung out with more of the, shall we say, misfit group. He
also started to dress in long black clothes all the time,
and do weird things with his hair.
As he began to change, he also became the target of ridicule
and even some physical pushing around at the hands of some
of the school's athletes and natural bullies. You know how
it is around eighth and ninth grade, guys' sexual identities
are starting to form, and some guys feel threatened by others
who are different. And Jeff was emerging as not the most
masculine guy at the school. As a result, from time to time
I'd find myself intervening to protect him. Most of the
athletes grew out of the picking-on phase by the end of
this period, although the occasional leftover bully was
still around. I was worried that Jeff would resent my
involving myself by protecting him, but fortunately it
didn't seem to happen. He wouldn't say much, but he was
clearly grateful. I think he really looked up to me during
that time. I almost felt like I was his big brother in
a way.
By the start of sophomore year, he had given up asking me
over to his place, but I caught him staring at me on more
than one occasion. And when I would see him in the hallway,
I noticed that the crowd he was with seemed increasingly
skewed towards gothic gay types. That included a bunch of
rather faggy guys, as well as a couple of almost comically
butch looking -- and acting -- girls, Dana and Bonnie.
Although Jeff didn't act as stereotypically gay as the
others, he seemingly made no attempt to hide his interest
in us bigger guys at the school.
While I'm totally straight, I have nothing against gay
people, and there are a couple of them in our "popular"
school crowd. But Jeff's group creeps me out. They always
seem to be whispering to each other, and have the outward
appearance of always plotting something. It almost sounds
like a Columbine scenario, you know with the black overcoats
and all, except for the overt sexual aspect. Generally I
don't see much of Jeff outside of the classes we share;
since we are both good students we have generally been on
the advanced track all along, and we shared several AP
classes this year.
Although I didn't want to do it at first, over time my
relationship with Heather has become sexually active. We
always use protection and we don't do anything, well,
unusual. I'm writing that in the present tense but
actually in the last few months things have started
changing, and it's part of what I'm worried about and
why I'm writing this.
If I can pinpoint a particular time things started
getting weird, it was sometime last October as I finished
lunch. I started feeling really groggy as I finished my
water, and Jeff came over and said he wanted to talk to
me about something important, outside the lunchroom. I
wasn't in a particular hurry, as I had study hall
immediately after lunch, so I left the room with him,
stumbling a bit on the way out. That's all I remember
until I woke up to find myself sitting in my normal seat
in calculus class just as the teacher came in. An hour
had sort of disappeared from my life and I had no idea
what happened.
I would have asked Jeff about it after class, but I
didn't do it, and I don't know why. Either I didn't
quite remember the sequence of events then and only
pieced it together later, or I did know but for some
reason just couldn't ask him about it. It's all a bit
fuzzy. But starting around then I would discover that
bits and pieces of time would be disappearing on
occasion. Fortunately it was never while I was driving
or something. I should have seen a doctor about it,
but again, I felt I couldn't really tell anyone about
it. Maybe it was too embarrassing, or maybe I thought
they'd put me into some kind of analysis thing I didn't
really have time for, I don't know what. But for some
reason, I can write about it now even though I still
can't talk about it.
Because I would lose the occasional evening at home, my
studies began to suffer somewhat. I could still make
some of it up during the day, but even there the
occasional spare hour would vanish. I began to wonder
about my short-term memory when I came home once and
my mom asked, "Is Jeff coming over again tonight?" I
was astonished, because he had not been over to see me
for like three years, but I pretended not to be surprised
and told her I didn't know for sure.
But what really got to me was what was happening with
Heather and me. We had been virtually exclusive to each
other since the ninth grade. We knew each other perfectly,
we felt our love blossoming, and we were planning to go
off to *** College together. But right around the period
where I started having my mini-blackouts, things changed.
I started catching myself in the school locker room
glancing at guys. Now every guy checks out the others to
see how he's developing compared to his peers, and I'm no
exception. But I started noticing more details of their
bodies that I'd never really looked at before. I wouldn't
say I got sexually excited at my locker or in the shower,
no uncontrollable boners or anything, I was just very
aware of things I'd always taken for granted before.
And in one REALLY weird period of days, I actually snuck
around other guys' lockers while they were in the next
room showering, looking for their shoes to find out their
shoe sizes, and sniffing them to see if they had any
significant foot odor, all of which I remember writing
down carefully somewhere, although I can't find that
piece of paper today to prove it.
While this was going on, I found my time with Heather
to be less and less interesting, and our sex to be
repetitive and boring. And she also seemed to be going
through the motions. And -- here's where another link to
Jeff comes in -- once, with my interest really flagging
and with me having a hard time staying erect, a picture
popped into my mind of Jeff, little Jeff in his black
overcoat, pointing at me and moving his lips although
I couldn't hear anything -- and immediately I was hard
as a rock and very, very active. It took Heather
completely by surprise and she went along for the "ride"
without asking any questions afterwards, for which I
was grateful.
But things went downhill from there. I began to notice
that Heather was also missing for brief periods when I
expected to see her at study hall or after a class. But
I couldn't really ask her about her mysterious brief
absences without the subject of my own "gaps" coming up,
and I knew I couldn't talk about that. So we never
mentioned it to each other. And she also seemed to be
losing it a bit during classes. Once I saw her frantically
taking notes during physics; she was so absorbed by it
that she never looked up during the class. At the end
of the period, she grabbed her books and quickly left,
but I noticed she had forgotten to take her notes. I
picked up her notes intending to bring them to her later,
but then I looked at them and noticed that on every page
there was nothing but the word "Dana" written over and
over again, in different letter styles and with
decorations everywhere on the page. I was definitely
going to ask her about it, but the next period for me
was study hall, I had a brief blackout, and by the time
of my next class I guess I had forgotten all about it
(although I'm remembering it now!).
In the last few weeks, things seem to have really gotten
out of hand. From my most recent evenings with Heather,
I can only remember small pieces, and only from time to
time. As I'm writing this, I remember that two weeks ago
when we were together, something came over us and we
found ourselves role-playing, something we had never
done before. She played the tough jock, and I was the
helpless cheerleader. And she "topped" me in a totally
dominant way, calling me dirty names and sticking her
feet and other objects in all sorts of sensitive places.
Where she learned such a thing I have no idea! And I kept
having the feeling, which I forgot at the time but seem
to remember now, that there was maybe someone else in
the room that I was forced not to notice, maybe even
two people, laughing. Yes, now that I remember it, there
WAS laughing. I couldn't look in their direction, though.
I wasn't even sure they were there.
And in our most recent time together, the weirdest thing
of all happened. For some reason, Heather and I started
making out on the floor instead of on the bed, and I swear
that when I looked up once, I saw Jeff and his butch friend
Dana sitting on the bed, what looked like smirks on their
faces, both fully clothed except with their shoes and socks
off and bare feet on the carpet, and that I was lying with
my head near Jeff's feet and Heather's head near Dana's
feet. But when I shook my head and looked up, they weren't
really there, or maybe they had left, or never were there,
I don't know. I forgot about that part until just now.
Well, that's all I remember. Maybe some of it is my
imagination, or even all of it. Maybe things will
straighten themselves out this summer or during senior
year. It should definitely get better once Heather and I
are quite a distance out of this town at *** College. But
just in case, I'm writing it down because for some reason
I can't speak to anyone about it. I hope this gets into the
hands of a friend or someone who can help me. If so, SEND
HELP!! I can't even imagine what might happen if this got
into the wrong hands.
[signed]
Charles Taylor
[Feedback and comments welcome.]