Date: Mon, 22 May 2017 15:14:03 -0500 From: Jeff Moses Subject: I Ain't Queer This is a work of fiction. It includes sex between a high school guy and an adult. No resemblance to persons living or dead is intended. If you are underage, or if possession of this stuff is illegal in your area, leave now. Some of the activities described in this story may cause injury or transmit diseases, including HIV, so PLEASE PLAY SAFE! Nifty survives entirely on contributions, so click the donations link at the top of the index to make a contribution to maintain it! Authors retain rights to and title to their submitted works. (Please consult Nifty's submission guidelines for more information.) I Ain't Queer First off, I ain't queer. I do this shit because a tight asshole is a tight asshole, and a blow job is a blow job, right? And who gives better blow jobs than a guy, because we know what it's supposed to feel like. Even queers know what it's supposed to feel like, if they're guys. And guys want it, even queer guys want it, without all the flowers and candy bullshit. And there's no way a queer's going to get pregnant, right? That's what Mister Blank says, anyway. And that's his real name! I met him at a baseball game. I was at the park, and there was this crowd on the other side of the park watching a kids' baseball game, so I went over to watch, 'cause why not? Nothin' else to do on a Saturday morning, and my mom wanted me out of the house. She always wants me out of the house, now--never mind why. I'm not supposed to know. Right. Anyhow, the game's kind of neat--kids do a lot more stealing bases and you never know what's gonna happen next, and stuff. And I think they have more fun than the pros. So I'm standing next to these ratty old bleachers and this guy says, "Hey, have a seat," so I do, and we get to talking about one thing and another, and by the time the game is over--kid's games can get pretty long--it's lunchtime, so he invites me to have lunch with him. And we go to this pancake house, a real, sit-down restaurant, and he says, "I'm buying," and makes me order a real lunch, not just a burger, but fried chicken, with a little salad, and fries and vegetables. I was ready to burst when I was done, but then we ordered ice cream, so what the hell. I was surprised I could walk when we left. Mister Blank offers me a ride home, but I tell him I ain't going home, so he says, "Okay, where to?" I don't know, really. It's Saturday, and what's to do on Saturday? So we go to a movie--"Space Pirates," which is kind of dumb but there's some funny stuff in it--and he drops me off back at the park. He's cool, you know? Just a nice guy with some money and maybe he needs a friend? And then it hits me that maybe he wants a "friend," if you know what I mean, which it turns out he does but I don't find out about that for a while. It's sort of like we dated: lunch, movie, or the zoo or the Science Museum or sometimes we went to the mall and he got me some clothes he thought I'd like, like these jeans that aren't from the ShopMart, so they fit really good. My mom always buys jeans big so I'll "grow into them," which I do, after a while, but first I've got to wear them all loose for half the year. But these fit like you always want jeans to fit but mostly they never do except in ads and movies. Mister Blank says I could be a model, maybe, because I've got a good body (which okay, yeah, I do). He bought me a denim shirt, too, which I think looks a little weird with the jeans, almost like a uniform, but he says it's hot, and it's his dime. Anyhow, by now I'm pretty sure he's setting me up to be a "friend." But he hasn't said anything, and when he does I can just tell him to fuck off, if I want to. So school starts, and I really don't get it. I mean, last year I was doing okay, but this year everything's really tough. But I'm still seeing Mister Blank on most Saturdays, and he says, "What's wrong? You look like you're going to prison, or something." So I tell him about school and he says to bring my stuff over and he can help. Going to school on a Saturday is the last thing I want to do, but he says let's try it for a couple of weeks, so okay--I mean, he's been real nice and he explains stuff really good when I ask him questions, so okay. And he helps me! It's not like regular school: he takes me places where I can actually see shit instead of just reading about it, and we do experiments, and we use money and cards and stuff to do math, so it's actually fun. Oh, and he's got this workshop in his garage so we can build shit, sometimes. Anyhow, one day we're just talking and I say something like he's what I always thought a dad would be, if he was still around, and he looks at me and says, "I don't want to be your dad, Luke. Just a best friend." And I don't think he sees me start tearing up. It isn't until spring that he springs it on me. We've been talking about sex, because there's this sex ed class and it's...I don't know, it's easier to talk to Mister Blank because I can use the words I know, if I have to. And we laugh a lot. So I ask him about queers, and he sort of sighs and says queers are okay people and I shouldn't be afraid of them and that makes me kind of mad, so I say "What the fuck! Who says I'm afraid of them? I just don't like that shit." "What shit?" "Like taking it up your ass. Who wants their dick covered in shit? And I bet it hurts like hell. I mean, sometimes when I shit the turds are so big it hurts coming out." I don't know what made me say the thing about turds. "Not all queers take it up the ass," he says--see, that's what I mean about using real words. "Yeah, but they suck cock! What kind of creep likes to suck cock?" And that's when he tells me about girls sucking cock, and I have to admit that makes sense. "But I don't want to even touch another guy's junk!" "But you jack off, right?" "Shit, yeah. Everybody jacks off, even the guys who say they don't!" "So you touch your own junk, right?" "That's different." "What do you think it would feel like if somebody else jacked you off?" And I get all red and stop talking about sex for a while and then I admit that somebody did that. This kid in junior high made this bet and the deal was that the loser had to jack off the winner which I wouldn't have agreed to except I knew I could win, and I did. So he jacked me off. And he said it was fun and could he do it again sometime, but I got creeped out and I said no. But it did feel good. I don't know why, but it was, like, hell I don't know. Like sharing maybe? "Would you do that now? Let somebody jack you off?" "Maybe, if I was stoned or drunk or something." And Mister Blank looks at me and says, "Luke, would you like a beer?" And there it was. I said yes. And we had beers together, and he jacked me off. He said I could just sort of sit back with my eyes closed, I didn't have to watch, or anything, which I did, at first, but he got it super-hot and I wanted to see what the hell he was doing, so I watched the last part. But I wasn't drunk. I mean yeah, I had a beer, and I kind of fooled myself into feeling drunk, but I wasn't, really. I just wanted to see if it felt...But that doesn't make me queer! So after that, he jacked me off almost every Saturday, if I wanted him to. But he never made me, or anything. I'd say, "Yeah, jack me off," and he'd do it. Sometimes, I'd be standing up, and one time I was lying down, but that was really messy and I had to take a shower. But damn! It felt good, me just sitting on his sofa watching porn or something and he's kneeling in front of me jacking me off. Like I was a king, or something. And then, one Saturday, it's feeling different--really different, so I open my eyes and he's giving me a blow job. You ever had a blow job? There's nothing like it! I mean, nothing! So he'd ask me if I wanted a hand job or a blow job and I'd say "Gimme a blow job!" and he'd get right down on his knees and do it. It wasn't just that he was really, really good at it, there was something else that took me a little while to pin down. I finally realized that it was that I was this high school kid who couldn't even buy booze, and I had this grown-up guy kneeling in front of me giving me a blow job whenever I wanted. Almost like a slave, or something. He let me grab his head and move it the way I felt like, or even just hold it while I crammed my cock down his throat. He loved it! Can you believe that? He loved it! So one day, I just asked him if he was a queer, and he admitted he was, which didn't surprise me, but the first thing I said was, "I'm not a queer!" It just popped out, and I almost felt bad I said it but right away he says, "I didn't say you were! I'm the queer--I suck you. You never EVER have to touch any part of me you don't want to. I'm the queer, Luke. You're just this incredibly good-looking straight friend!" So one day, he's blowing me and there's this porn where this guy orders this woman to blow him and she's wearing a collar because she's his slave, and that makes me really hot and I say "that's really hot!" And afterwards Mister Blank asks me what, so I tell him, and next week he shows me this collar and asks me if I want him to wear it, and right away my dick's pushing against my jeans like it can't wait. So I say, "Yeah, man. Put it on." And he does, and somehow it makes the blow job even hotter, so from then on, he wears it whenever we do it. And we agree that I'll always wear the denim shirt on Saturdays, in exchange. So it's Senior year, and Mister Blank tells me that if I want to take somebody to the Senior Prom he'll foot the bill, which just about blows my mind, because yeah, there's this chick I've been dating, sort of--no sex, which is why I spend so much time with Mister Blank--and I know she wants me to ask her, and now I can. It must have cost Mister Blank a small fortune--a limo, even! He flat refused to tell me how much. He just said, "There's only one Senior Prom in your life, Luke, and I want to make sure it's a good one!" And it is. We get into some heavy necking after, me and the girl, but she'll only go so far unless we want to go steady, but I don't feel like it, really. She's pretty sexy, but it's like there's all these strings attached, you know? And there's Mister Blank, whenever I want to get my rocks off. I just show up at his door and he lets me in and runs to the bedroom and puts on the collar and takes off everything except his underpants, and gets me a beer or whatever (sometimes I'm hungry) and when I'm ready I just snap my fingers and down he goes. And then after, we talk and stuff, and sometimes I snap my fingers again. And then, it's graduation, and I graduate high school, with there's this big ceremony and these robes and dorky hats, and my mom is in the audience and Mister Blank's there, too, in the back. And my mom and this guy--Fred something--take me to dinner and Fred says, "Well, Lucas, what are you going to do with your life, now that you're a man?" And I just look at him and I say "I'm an eighteen-year-old guy who just finished school and I'm not gonna throw away the summer, 'cause it's probably my last summer." "What do you mean?" Fred asks. "See, there's all kinds of guys like me looking for work, right now, so I figure if I wait 'til fall, when they're all in school or college or the Army or whatever, there'll be all these jobs, and that's when I'll get a job." Fred and Mom aren't too happy about that, so I say, "Hey, don't worry. I got a gig for the summer, anyway, so I'll be out of your way." And I give them my sweetest smile--that's a little trick I used on my mom since seventh grade, but not too much because I don't want her to get used to it, and Mom takes Fred's hand and she tells me they're going to get hitched. Like it's nothing, like, "Luke, I sprained my toe," or "Luke, the bathroom light's out again." So I just smile and say, "Congratulations," and she says it's gonna be next month and she hopes I'll be able to come. "I will," I say--"unless it's on a Saturday." "What's wrong with Saturdays?" Fred asks, so I come up real quick with "That's when I work," and Mom says "Luke! You didn't tell me you had a job!" Yeah, like she didn't notice suddenly I got decent clothes and I'm not eating all my meals at home but I'm not starving and some nights I don't come home, even. She's clueless. I mean, she's not a witch or anything, she's actually pretty okay, but she just doesn't have a clue. I hope Fred's the right guy for her, or I'll break his neck. And yeah, I'm spending some nights at Mister Blank's. It's just easier, if he makes a big meal and we have wine, or something, and it gets late and I can't drive 'cause I only got my learner's permit still, and no car, of course. And it's not like we're sleeping together, most of the time. Every once in a while, just 'cause it feels good. But no sex. I am not queer! Anyhow, Mister Blank's hired me to sort of look after things for him, like the yard, and fixing things now and then, and he helped me get my driver's license finally so I could be like a chauffeur, sort of. He says it's cheaper than parking downtown for the day. (I'm not sure exactly what Mister Blank does, but it's office work.) And he gave me a credit card, so I could do grocery shopping and stuff like that. But Saturday's still our "play day." Sometimes it's movies or shopping or a museum--he likes art, and he's teaching me some stuff but I still think the modern stuff is shit. Pretty sometimes, but shit, basically. And sometimes--but I should tell you about Halloween, first. Mister Blank says he's going to this really wild Halloween party and I can come if I don't have anything else going on, but there will be a lot of queers there so if I'm not cool with that it's okay. But I say I'll just tell them to get fucked if they try anything and he laughs and says, "If they're trying anything, it's because they want to get fucked!" So we talk about being polite and how to tell someone you're not available, and then he says he's got an idea, if I'm willing to go along, that will pretty much keep the queers off me without being an asshole. "I'll go as your slave," he says, and by the time he's explained it, it sounds like it could be fun. So we practice a little, like he calls me "Master," and I call him "boy," and give him orders and stuff, and by the time Halloween comes it's pretty smooth. He got me this costume: leather pants and this harness thing to wear over my shirt, and a sort of a uniform hat like they wear with uniforms and stuff--that's leather, too--and these wild boots that make me feel like a foot taller. It's only an inch, but it feels like more. And he wears his collar, with a leash for me to lead him around, and these little kind of sandals, and shorts, and they're leather, too. And that's all. Good thing it's a warm night! So we go to the party, and man, do I get the looks. I think I could walk out with a dozen slaves, if I wanted. But my slave sticks pretty close, and he introduces me to some really nice guys--there's this cowboy who says he thinks I could be a model, if I wanted, and he gives me his business card, and this other guy--I think he was supposed to be a space alien, or a lizard or something--and he says if I learn to tend bar I could make a fortune in tips. And a couple of guys who just come up and tell me that if I want another slave... Queers are weird. Nice, most of them, but weird. There's really good food, like a buffet that never runs out, and there's booze--Mister Blank let me try stuff and I decided I like bourbon and soda, if I want something other than beer, but he also said I should have some water or something between each drink, so I don't get sick or have a hangover. And I suddenly notice--like it was sort of obvious and I should have noticed it before--that Mister Blank's got a nice, muscly body. Not all bulgy like a body builder, but solid, like you wouldn't want to pick a fight with him. Anyhow, at midnight we all get little party favor things. I got a little whip, and Mister Blank got a collar with silver studs and a coupon that I could get a tag made up for him to wear. I'm feeling pretty good by the time we get home and we no sooner get in the door than Mister Blank drops to his knees and kisses my boots and says he loves being my slave and I can do anything I want to him. Like I said, I'm a little drunk, so I whack him on the ass with the little whip--he says it's a riding crop that's really for horses and it can hurt like hell if it's not used right (or maybe if it is used right?). And he says he knows how I feel about fucking a guy in the butt, but I should at least try it, and if I'm wearing a condom I won't get shit on it and even if I did he'd clean it off right away, and like I said, I was a little drunk, so I say okay, and he works me up with his mouth and puts grease in his butthole and tells me to put on the condom and shove it in, 'cause he's a queer and he likes getting fucked in the ass, so I do it. I do it and oh my god does it feel good! It's not like when you get sucked, because you've got to actually fuck, jam it in there, in and out, deep, but that makes it even more fun. And the best part is, there's no shit! Or almost never any shit, as long as he gets himself ready, first. So that's how I learned some other ways to play on Saturdays. Mister Blank showed me some ways to tie him up, and sometimes we do that kind of stuff in the garage so I can bend him over the workbench and fuck his ass good, or sort of tie his wrists to a beam and whip him. We got a different whip so I can hit him harder but it doesn't hurt nearly so much as the riding crop. But most Saturdays, I just take him, you know? Almost like it would be a rape, if he didn't want it, but oh man, he wants it. I just slam into him like I would never do with a girl, but he's a guy so I can be rough, which I like most of the time. And every once in a while, we sleep together and he sucks me off until I fall asleep, or I fuck him real gently and sort of squeeze his chest and play with his tits, and we both fall asleep. But it's okay, 'cause like I said, I ain't queer!