THE RENT

                                          Jack Sprat

     My good friend Michael had moved to San Francisco to work as an 
industrial designer. He had a good job and a real nice city apartment. I'd 
been working for a local accountant in Gillette, Wyoming. There was no future 
here and Michael said I could come and live him, sharing expenses.

      Michael gave me a tour of the city and introduced me to restaurants and 
fun place bars. Wow! This all was so cool, exciting, and different. 

     I got an entry job as a clerk-accountant with a trucking company. It was 
teamsters union and paid well. I had money and it was easy to pay my share my 
rent and food expense. 

     I have a weakness for gambling. In San Francisco, a race track was less 
than an hour away, and there were card rooms open twenty four hours. Casinos 
were available on close by Indian reservations and Reno was only thirty 
minutes by air. 

     In the past, and being mathematical able, I'd lucked out on winning odds, 
most always able to stay ahead but, the city was a bad show. 

     This night, maybe if I'd had less to drink, I wouldn't have bet it all. 
Anyway, four of a kind beat my high full house. All I had was on the table. I 
was completely broke. I asked the winner for cab fare home. I would ask 
Michael to wait for the rent. 

     Michael had been taken by previous roommates, conned with their stories 
why they couldn't share the months rent, but no more. Not even me. I would pay 
my way, or I was out. 

      He would, however, ride until my next check. This would pay him current 
rent plus a partial payment on past rent. He did this favor as a personal 
friend. 

     The next payday, I left in the early afternoon for the track. I was lucky 
the first three races, at one time being one thousand ahead. I bet heavier on 
the last races hoping to add to my good fortune. The Gods of odds, 
calculation, study, and luck had all failed me. I left the track with $50. It 
was all I had. I was in a very bad place. What would I tell Michael? 

     Michael, knowing it was my payday, asked for the rent.

     "I don't have it, Michael. I wanted to pay all of it tonight. I thought I 
could win at the races and clear everything up. I lost everything." 

     I felt Michael's stare. I had broken my promise to a true friend. I was 
an addicted gambler, a liar, and in debt. I was scum. Tears ran quietly down 
my face. 

     "I told you, no excuses! You'll have to move out!"

      "But where will I go?"

     "That's your problem. Go sleep at one of the rescue missions."
     
     "Please! Please don't throw me out!"

     I felt weak, humble, and good for nothing, with Michael's disdainful stare
melting me into the ground.

     "Let me stay Michael. I'll get the money paid back. I don't want to leave.
I'll do anything."

     "You could stay and pay off yor debt with your body. You do have a cute
butt. We can start right now! Come here! Drop your pants!"

     "Do what! Are you kidding?"

     "No! Drop your pants!"

     I was stunned. I'd known Michael a long time. He'd never hinted he was 
interested in males, but I didn't know what else to do. In humble resignation, I
dropped my pants and shorts. I would never have done this for anyone else. 

     He looked at my limp prick, raised it, and checked my balls, then turned 
me, running his finger up and down my crack then opening my cheeks. 

    "As long as you stay here, you will give yourself when I want you. This
way you can work off ten dollars a week."
    
    "We'll start right now! Strip naked! Lay on the sofa!  Draw and spread your
legs!"

     I was overpowered with Michael's sudden dominance. Docily, I did as I was 
told. Michael temporarily left, returning with a towel and a jar of Vaseline. 
He was going to feel and play with me and use the Vaseline where? Oh, No!

     He surprised me by first tilting my head, my opening my mouth. He grasped 
my tongue, pulled it forward, and explored its taste buds. His fingers roamed 
deep to the back of my throat, massaging soft tissue, but taking care not to 
gag me. I was salivating gushes when he finished. Only my dentist ever had his
fingers in my mouth. Michael had done this to show his dominance. I had let
him.
    
     He moved to my feet. Locking one bare foot under his arm, he lightly 
stroked its bottom. Much to his delight, he found me very ticklish and this 
had made me erect. 

     I thought he'd start tickling the tip of my hard-on, testing to see if he 
could make it grow any more. Instead, he laid me over his lap. 
     
     His spanking hand came down rapidly, alternating on my bare cheeks. I 
felt like a child receiving his just punishment. My butt was warm and smarting
when he stopped. Still holding me, he slid his greased finger up my butt hole,
massaging and frisking while scolding me for squirming.

     I was feeling weirdly erotic with a warmed butt and a fingered asshole,
and my penis was hard and throbbing as I again reclined on the sofa. Michael
slipped it into his mouth, flooding my sensitive tip with his warm saliva.

     Sliding and flicking his tongue across with gentle erotic intensity,
my climax started. While wiggling about, his frisking finger pushed high into
my ass and I exploded. I was taken to far distant cosmos, as my pulsating penis
pumped streams of stored hot juices into Michael's mouth. I'd never experienced
such a sex mind blower.

    Michael is going to have to wait a real long time before I start paying
back any money..

      
                                                the end