Date: Thu, 3 May 2007 17:07:47 -0700 (PDT) From: Christian G. Subject: The Houseboy Next Door - Prologue - "Jeph" This story is completely fictional. It's 100% made up and has nothing to do with my actual life. All the characters in this have been made up and don't exist what-so-ever. If you're not 18 or if you are not allowed to read this where ever you may be then turn back around now. This section contains graphic scenes between men and others so if you're offended then stop reading. Any resemblence this story has to others is nothing more than coincidence. Thank you. P.S. This is a test story and you all are my mice. Haha. If you like it so far then let me know and I'll keep it going as long as my other story "The Gyllenhaal Encounter" in the "Celeb." section of Nifty. +++ `House-boy: Noun. Used to describe a male servant in a house.' Pretty simple, huh? Not quite. My names Jeph and I'm a 23 year old houseboy who somehow managed to find his way into the life of a 36 year old accountant by mistake. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with what I'm doing, and grateful to have found such a loving man like Mr. Patterson, but sometimes I wonder what if. What if I had never wondered into the park at the same moment Mr. Patterson sat on that steel bench with his head buried in the days newspaper? What if I wasn't in need of quick cash when he found me? What if!? I'm sorry. I'm probably getting ahead of myself. For those of you who don't know what a houseboy is let me fill you in. When I was a newly turned 19 year old I was hired by Mr. Patterson as a housekeeper of sorts. I would go to his house during the week while he was at work and spend my time there cleaning. I'd clean rooms, kitchens, bathrooms, and even the outside and surrounding areas. Doing this type of work wasn't strange or peculiar to me since I did most of that stuff at my own house with my dad being the inebriated son of a bitch that he was. I was in charge of making the home look presentable for when Mr. Patterson got home from a long day of work at the office. I started out a bit late for a houseboy since most begin working at only 18 years old but I was given a chance and the money was fair so I wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. One day, when I was walking around and looking for work around the city, I happened to stroll into our local dog park in search of some rest but what I got was more than just a place to take a load off. That's where I fell into Mr. Patterson's lap, so to speak. He was sitting on those dark, steel benches while his nose was buried inside the pages of his newspaper. We started up a nice conversation and I began to bitch about my lack of jobs. That's when I noticed that his interest for me grew. He talked about his own job and how bothersome it was for him to be behind a desk. Right as I was about to leave the well dressed, clean and groomed man, he brought me back with an alluring offer. "It pays very well." Mr. Patterson smiled. "All you'd have to do is clean and stuff." The "... and stuff" was what worried me the most. What would this "stuff" imply? It didn't take me too long to give in and agree to be interviewed by him at a later time. I thought I was going to a regular nanny interview but, boy, was I wrong. When I got to his house I noticed there were no kids running around or screaming their lungs off but I thought they were at school since it still was fairly early in the day. Surprisingly, I got the job and Mr. Patterson paid me what he referred to as "minimum wage" upfront so he'd make sure I came back for more and I did. At first, like I said before, I would do domestic work around the house but it wasn't until much later on when Mr. Patterson started to ask strange request from me. One day he would ask me to build him a small shed and another day he would as me to drive down to his work to drop off some paperwork he needed to turn in on time. By then, I didn't know it, but I had already become the Robyn to his Batman, his "Boy Friday," his houseboy. I started to work more around Mr. Patterson and his wife (at the time) and even started an intimate relationship with them both. No sex (yet) but after being solicited into moving in to their home and even living there rent free in return for my presence at dinner parties and other gatherings, I started to see Mr. Patterson in a brand new, unexpected light. He wasn't just my boss anymore, he was my older brother, my stable father, my savior, my owner. I'm not gay but I found myself being attracted to him in a way I've never been attracted to another man before. After a good year of living with the couple, I realized that they wanted me for something more than just a maid. I was also being used for a good fuck. My first sexual experience with them was on a tedious Saturday night when Mr. Patterson called me into the living room to "model" a new pair of pants Mrs. Patterson had purchased for me at the local clothing store. It was odd that I was being asked to do that but I didn't think anything of it until Mrs. Patterson's hand slipped a bit to far up when she was feeling the fit around my thighs. That night, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson and I spent the night together inside their huge master bedroom. At first, Mr. Patterson only watched while I fucked his wife on the bed but it was him who I kept my eyes on. I wanted to have Mr. Patterson's warm body laying underneath me. I wanted him to be the one clawing at my back and huffing hot breath into my ear. I wanted to feel his lips and tongue glide over my collar and up my neck. It wasn't until later that he finally joined in and let me play with every inch of him that I finally got my wish. For a 32 year old, Mr. Patterson was a pretty amazing lover. Of course, I hadn't scored with anyone who wasn't around my own age so I didn't have anyone I could compare him to. These days, I think I compare everyone else to him. It wasn't long before our perfect little family crumbled just as fast as it flourished. You're probably thinking that I was to blame for the Patterson divorce and you'd be right. He and I hooked up when the mistress was out but the one rule between them was either they're both home or nothing. A surprise visit from her was what broke the camels back. "What the fuck is this?" Tiff, former Mrs. Patterson screamed when she walked through the door and found her husband with his dick ball deep in my ass. It was surely a sight to see. Tiff threw a fit like I've never seen. She hoot and hollered at the top of her lungs until Mr. Patterson walked over and calmed her down. I do feel bad about that but what was I to do? I offered to leave and let them rekindle their relationship with out me but Mr. Patterson assured me that I was to stay put. It's now four years later and nothing much had changed with the two of us. Mr. Patterson still looked as attractive as when I first met him. He was still taller than me, 180 lbs., short, cropped black hair, brown eyes, and still has a body of a 20 year old. I don't know what his secret to staying young is but I wanted to know so when I get to his age I could look as good as he did. I, on the other hand, am nothing more than 5"7' with dark brown hair, green eyes, and athletic build that Mr. Patterson insisted on keeping toned and clean inside as well as out. Being a vegetarian, that wasn't hard for me to accomplish. He got me a pair of my own weights and elliptical machine so I could stay on the top of my game and I have been. Can you imagine? All that and I haven't even started my daily entry yet. +++ E-mail: Synful_romance@sbcglobal.