Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 05:24:33 -0700
From: Clone Buggs <cqsqfq@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hot Pies and Size Queens part 17

Paint Dreams


	New York was a scary place when I first arrived, fresh out of art school
from Kansas City.  I was determined to make my mark on the art world, and
set about trying to rent a studio so I could get started on my work.  The
cost of space, floored me.  I'd never be able to find a job that paid well
enough to eat and pay rent too, let alone afford the materials I needed for
my work.  I needed another alternative.
	I noticed an ad column in the weekly paper that served the Village, called
Studios to Share.  The rents being advertised were more in my range, and
although I didn't look forward to sharing my space with another artist, it
looked like my only alternative.  I started calling ads.  Most of them were
taken already, but I ended up with three appointments to look at space the
next day, and as I headed out of the Chelsea Hotel, to grab a bite to eat,
and do some sight seeing in the big apple, I was secretly elated at the
possibilities.  My brain had coughed up the idea, that a roommate would mean
a built in friend.  Since I didn't know a soul in Manhattan, that sounded
like a good thing.
	The first place I looked at was dingy, and the light was bad.  There were
three other roommates, and the toilet was down one floor in the hall.  I
thanked them after a few minutes, and left.  The second place hadn't been
any better, the smell of a filthy cat box or boxes judging from the number
of cats I could see from the door, made it easy.  "Sorry, I'm allergic to
cats," I lied, and ran down the stairs.  This wasn't going to be as easy as
I thought, and every night I spent at the Chelsea Hotel, while romantic, was
costing me a bundle.
	I had to cool my heels while my third appointment got home from work.  He'd
made the meeting for six in the evening.  I had a coffee on West Broadway,
and saw a few shows of painting while killing time.  I was sitting on the
stoop when the guy I was waiting for, came up the street swishing like the
biggest fag I'd ever seen.  "Oh god, please don't let this be him," I
prayed.
	"You must be Jeffery," he said, dancing up the stairs to where I was
sitting.  I nodded, standing up.  I didn't know what to say, so I offered my
hand and he shook it enthusiastically, smiling and babbling on and on about
how he liked punctuality, and what a great  hair cut I had, and how long had
I been waiting, etc. etc.
	His name was Tory, and when he led the way up the stairs to the top floor,
my hopes began to rise a little.  He unlocked and pushed open the big metal
fire door to an incredible space completely open, with windows all around,
and skylights as well.  The place was a flood of sunlight.  A big yellow
tomcat stretched himself in one of the window sills, and sauntered over to
rub his heavy body against my leg.  He was purring loudly.
	"Oh good, Scudder approves.  If Scudder doesn't like you, there's no way it
will work out.  My last roommate hated cats, and Scudder hated him; shit in
all his shoes."  He laughed.  I bent down and rubbed Scudder's ears, and he
rolled over and offered me his belly to rub.  I obliged him.
	"Well Jeffery," Tory said, dancing off to the kitchen area.  "Can I offer
you something while we talk?"
	"Beer?"
	"Beer it is."  He took two bottles out of the antique fridge, and put them
on a round table with four chairs.  He motioned for me to sit, and Scudder
followed me over and when I sat, jumped into my lap and curled up purring.
	Tory pulled on a cord dangling from an old fashioned lamp that hung over
the table, and the soft light was exactly the same size as the table top.
He pushed a beer to me, and got a glass for himself.
	"I know, the bottle is O.K. right?  But I like a glass."  He struck a pose,
and set the glass on the table.  I grinned at him.
"So here's the deal Jeffery.  Four hundred a month, and half the utilities.
On average, this being Manhattan, it will be nearly five hundred a month to
you on one condition."  I had visions flash through my brain that the
condition would be sex every night with him, and steeled myself.
	"What's that?"  I tried to remain nonchalant, and took a sip of beer from
the bottle.  Actually, I preferred to drink from a glass as well, but I
didn't say anything.
	"I don't tolerate discouraging words."
	"What?"
	"You know," he sang, "Where never is heard a dis--cour--aging word.  And the
deeeeer and the anti--lopes play..."  I couldn't help laughing.  "I mean it
Jeffery.  This is serious."
	"All right.  All right." I held up my hand to acknowledge I understood.
	"Oh and one other thing."  He leaned forward, smiling with his chin
supported on the backs of his hands.  "You don't have to fuck me if you
don't want to."  He laughed a high girlish laugh, and put his hand over
mine.  I couldn't help it, I liked him to spite myself, and all my parents
had told me about fags.
	He took a check, and told me I could move in that night if I wanted.  He
showed me my sleeping area, and which part of the huge room would be my
studio, and then went with me to the Chelsea to help with my stuff.  We had
a pasta meal at the little place on the corner, and he bought some huge
sunflowers from a vendor before we headed home.
	The next morning, he asked if I'd found a job yet, and when I told him I
hadn't he gave me a number and told me to call and tell the guy that
answered that he'd recommended me to him.  He left for work, and I rolled
out of bed and did a few pushups, and took a shower.  Scudder and I had
coffee together, he likes his in a saucer, and then I called the number.
The guy was especially friendly when he heard Tory's name, and asked me to
come right over for an interview.  The place was a bakery, and they needed a
delivery person to drive their goods to other stores and restaurants.  It
paid ten bucks to start, and a raise if Donald, the boss thought I was
working out after a month.  I took it, and started to work right then.
	That night, Tory was excited to hear Donald had hired me.  If Donald likes
you, you don't have to worry about anything.  He knows everybody in the art
world. He can introduce you to people you should know.
	"Thanks Tory.  I don't know how I can ever repay you."
	"Well," he laughed, "like I said.  You don't have to fuck me unless you
want to."
	"Tory.  I wish you would drop that.  I'm not gay."
	"I know that.  But most of the art world is.  It might help your career if
you were."
	"That's nonsense."
	"If you say so."
	"I do.  So can you drop it please?"
	"Consider it dropped."
	Several weeks went by, and I slowly got my studio area set up the way I
like it, and started stretching a large canvas.  I was contemplating a
series of nude figures out of Cezanne's bathers, but they would be doing
things with handheld electronic gadgets.  I needed a model to start, and
when I told Tory about the idea, he volunteered immediately.  He was excited
while he stripped, and I got my drawing tools and paper.
	I tried to direct him into the sort of pose I had in mind, and ended up
trying to demonstrate what I wanted, but he didn't seem to get it.  Finally,
in frustration, I took him bodily in hand, and posed him like I wanted.  His
skin was soft and warm where I touched him, so full of energy and life, I
found myself thinking about him while I tried to draw the pose.  After about
twenty minutes, I told him he could break, and he walked over to look at my
drawing.   His flaccid cock, was just inches from my face, and he leaned
over and put an arm on my shoulder.
	"That's nice Jeffery.  It even looks like me a little."  He squeezed my
arm, and I felt my cock harden a bit.  I stood up, and leaned my pad of
paper against the chair I'd been sitting on.
	"Ooh, what's that?"  He was pointing at my crotch.  I blushed, and turned
away from him, but my cock got harder.  			"Jeffery, don't be ashamed of a
hardon.  I get them all the time.  See."  I looked over my shoulder, and he
had his dick hard, and was stroking it with his fingers.
	"I'm sorry Tory.  It's been a long time since I've had any relief sexually.
  When you touched me, it was so... feminine, my cock just reacted."
	"I wish you would get off that hetero thing, and just learn to enjoy.
There is such a thing as a bisexual you know."
	"I've heard."
	"Let me take care of your problem.  You'll do better work."
	"Tory!"
	"Really Jeffery, a good blow job isn't going to change your sexuality,
unless you are uncertain of it all ready."
	"All right, to prove to you I'm heterosexual to the core, I'll bet you
can't even make my cock stiff."  I threw out the challenge, and started
undoing my pants.  Tory smiled at me, and when my dick was exposed, he went
down on his knees, and went down on my cock.  I never saw it react so
swiftly.  He had me hard in a second, and a minute of ecstasy later, I was
pouring several weeks of abstinence down his talented throat.
	"Jeez Tory! that was some fucking blow job.  I'm sorry I came in your
mouth, but I couldn't help it it felt so good."
	"You were delicious too Jeffery.  But look what you've done to me."  He
stood up, and his cock was rock hard, jutting out at an angle from his body.
	"I'm sorry Tory.  Man you've got a great looking cock."  I reached for it,
and stroked him a little.  "You want me to jack you off?"
	"Not really.  I can do that for myself.  I had other things in mind."  He
looked into my eyes.
	"Like what?"
	"Like what I did for you."
	"I can't.  Tory I've told you, I'm not gay."
	"So what.  One blow job is not going to turn you gay if you're not already
leaning in my direction.  Come on Jeffery, turn about is fair play."  I
looked from his cock to his face, and back to his cock.  There was a lot of
truth to what he was saying.  I decided I owed him a lot more than just a
simple blow job.
	I dropped to my knees, and licked the glans of his dick.  It tasted all
right, clean and sexy.  I let him push it into my mouth a little, and I
started licking and sucking on the head a bit.  He was pushing it into me
deeper as I went on, until he had it all the way to the back of my throat.
Suddenly, it was too deep, and I was gagging and retching.  I pulled it out
of my mouth, trying desperately not to throw up.  My eyes were streaming,
and my nose was running, when I finally caught my breath, he took my face in
his hands, and bent over and kissed me on the lips.
	"At least you tried Jeffery."  He turned around and walked to his bed and
laid down on his stomach.  I thought he was sad, maybe upset with me.  I got
up and went to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling I needed to do something,
but not knowing what.  I rubbed his naked back, trying to comfort him, but
he kept his face buried in the pillow, his body tense and unresponsive.  As
I stroked his smooth skin, I realized he was having an effect on me, my cock
was rising again.
	"Tory?"  He didn't answer, but he did turn his head slightly so I knew he
was listening.  "I'm sorry I'm no good at sucking cock.  I've never done it
before.  You do such a good job, it was the best I've ever had.  Of course,
I haven't had but a couple from girls before, but they weren't anything to
write home about.  But, I have done something before that I know a little
more about."	He turned over, and looked at me, curious.
	"What was that Jeffery?"
	"I've fucked before." I said, after taking a deep breath.  "Girls, I mean,
but I suppose it's basically the same; isn't it?"  He sat up, a small smile
playing on his lips.
	"I'll make sure it's the best you've ever had."  He flung his arms around
my neck, and hugged me tight.  Letting go of me, he scrambled to his night
stand, and brought out a condom and a squeeze bottle of lube.  "You have to
get naked for it to be any good Jeffery."  He laid back on the pillows and
played with himself jacking his big cock, while he watched me strip.
	Naked, he got up on his knees and walked over to me on the bed, and took my
rigid cock in his hand.  He sucked on me for a minute, then rolled a rubber
down my shaft.  He lubed himself, and then turned his ass to me, and reached
between his legs and guided my stiffness into his hole.  I was suddenly
overwhelmed with lust.  I had no idea a man's asshole could be so powerfully
erotic.  I couldn't stop myself, and plunged into him groaning.
	His hand played with my nuts, as I started to stroke into him, being
careful not to hurt him.  I was beginning to care a lot for this guy, and
hurting him was far from anything I wanted to happen.  I only wanted to make
him cum, to give him pleasure.
	"Oooh Jeffery," he moaned.  "You fuck divinely.  You don't have to worry.
It feels marvelous, the thrust of your huge dick fucking in and out of my
asshole is making my nuts churn."  He brought our two nut sacks together and
squeezed them gently, massaging.  I groaned with pleasure, and he started
flexing his cock, and tightening his assring of muscle.  I reached beneath
him, and gripped his dancing cock, and began stroking him to the beat of my
thrusts.
	He arched his back, and began to rub his butt cheeks against my thrusting
lap, and the sensations sent me soaring.  I couldn't remember feeling so
intense, not even my first fuck with Irma, who had been a dead fish compared
to this.
	Tory, worked himself into a frenzy, using me and me him, to get ourselves
higher and higher, until we were both struggling to get breath into our
lungs, dizzy with the need to cum yet trying every trick that came
fleetingly to mind to make this wonderful union last and last and last.
But, all good things must cum, and cum we did.  Tory gushed wads of hot
steamy jism onto the bed, and his gripping asshole, brought me to the point
of no return, and I  I filled that condom to the bursting point.  My
pleasure was euphoric, and when I could no longer stand on my shaky legs, I
fell across Tory's back, my cock still embedded in his ass, and we lay in a
heap of entangled arms and legs kissing and stroking each other like lovers.
	Tory has been forcing me to look at myself.  My new painting is going well,
and his poses are marvelously erotic, and have led to many nights of passion
and lust.  He's taken to suggesting that I might like to try letting him
fuck me, and I've been imagining what it must feel like, having a big
powerful dick coursing in and out of my asshole, spitting hot steaming cum
in my guts after taking me to the heights of passion.  He'll be home from
work in a few minutes, and I'm already naked on the bed, playing with my
hard dick.  The condoms and lube are ready on the nightstand.

End