Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2002 21:46:39 -0800
From: 4yarddog <4yarddog@prodigy.net>
Subject: fuck you, part I (piss)

If you're offended by stories with a sexual content, don't
read this. If you're under age, don't read this. If it's
illegal to be caught with this stuff where you live, don't
read this.

This story will eventually have assorted combinations of
sex.

This is a revised story of mine that is half fact and half
fiction. Your comments are welcome.  Any reposting without
my permission will get you in bunch of trouble and make me
pissed off.  I will write more like it if you contact me.
And now the story.


Fuck you.
By JT


He had tattoos on his arms . a whole sleeve on this left
that was about dragons . and eyes that knocked my head up.
He always seems to have a "Fuck you, fag," sort of nasty
smirk on his face.  I fucken hated that stupid thin mustache
he grew cause nothing else grew on his face.  When he
finally did let me suck up his cum off his  stomach, it was
thick and lumpy.  He always smacked my head when I did it in
long slurps.

"Funniest fucken thing I ever saw is how much you love to
eat that shit!"  Then he would laugh like crazy until he had
enough and then push me away from him.

"Get the fuck out of here, unless you wanna stay around and
clean house or something faggy like that!" Then he would
bust his gut some more, maybe spit on me and go about doing
what ever Johnny want about doing.

He was always like that --  since the first day I laid eyes
on him.  Always tan, always loud mouth, always listening to
hard rock, always ending his sentences in prepositions:
"What the fuck are you always looking' at me like that for?"

He and his almost-always-drunk-at-home dad moved in next
door a couple of years ago.  Senior dragged home every known
whore in town.  His bedroom window was too close to mine so
during most of the year, I could hear him fuckin his
"bitches."

He was mean to them, too - always telling them what a lousy
loose fuck they were; slapping them around and trying to
poke his cock up their assholes.  Far as I could tell most
of his whores hated getting seniors dick up the butt.

Even when he did get some tight pussy that pleased him, he'd
slap them around   Some of those whores would get up and
leave.  But more times than not, about a week later, all of
them would show up looking meek and pleading at the outside
front door to, "Just please let me come inside so we can
talk about it."  Then later the two of them would be
leaving, hanging arm in arm, going someplace with the whore
staring at senior like he was some sort of fucken god.

I could hear him order them around. "Get me a beer."   "Damn
you stink, go take a bath, cunt!"  I never understood him or
them but it wasn't none of my business.

Senior looked every inch "a man."  He was 6'2" and, I
guessed, around 200 pounds of slightly, out-of-shape
muscles.  Weights were in the garage and both father and son
were there on weekends grunting and lifting - it was the
only thing they did together as far as I could see.  I
worked it up in my mind that the girls were putting out for
the son as much as the father but I never really knew.

What I did know is that they drank together.  I could see
thought their back sliding glass door -- the two of them
watching some ball game on big screen TV, feet up on the
coffee table, beer cars everywhere.  And they never seemed
to piss in the bathroom.  All weekend long, especially
during the summers, they just slid that glass door open and
"go" outdoors like a bunch of alley cats.

Senior would go behind a large bush on the side of the
house, but junior would take to opening the door, just
beyond his fathers glance, and go piss in front of my
bedroom window outside.  He'd slip his dick out from under
his shorts or open his button fly jeans, let his pants drop
to his knees and cut loose.  This whole business was always
occupied with chest rubbing, a loud belch or two and if I
was lucky a fart.  I used to think I  could smell them
through the window.  I was sure they were sticky.

My first run in with this teenage fucker head came one
summer when he drove his three-wheeler all over my front
lawn during a nighttime drunking binge when senior was away.

Next morning I couldn't believe how screwed up my lawn was.
I was pissed so I went pounding on the next door.  Senior
came to the door and I let loose with how fucked up my lawn
look and how I couldn't believe someone in this neighborhood
would do that and how I expected his son to get his ass over
the next day and fix up the damage.

While I am telling him this, junior came around, up behind
him, kinda peaking around the corner, looking like he just
got out of bed in his white jockey underwear with a clear
pee stain on them.  He is looking scared as hell, his hair
all over the place, sweat coming off his armpits.  Fuck!

As I was staring at him junior leaves and then returns with
some white gym shorts over his underwears, but nothing else
. the dirty tops of the underwears showing anyway.  In the
back of my mind I'm thinking, I just blow it all to hell
cause I can't keep my eyes off him.

Senior sees my stares and turns and looks at his almost
naked son.  "Did you do what he says you did?"  Senior deep-
stares him.  Junior says nothing.

Then Senior turns to me and says, "Thank you. We'll be by
tomorrow to fix it up."  I say `thanks' and the door closes.
Then I hear, "But dad!"  Then a slap and then nothing as I
walk away.  Already I am wishing I'd keep my mouth shut.

But the next day early Junior is my yard, racking the dirt,
planting down grass seed, fertilizer and some peat moss - a
real class job.  He's wearing nothing but the white shorts
from yesterday and I'm getting that feeling, deep down
around my dick, that has nothing to with anything but sex.
And I'm starting to freak cause it has to do with having the
total fuckin hots for this kid.

But I walk outside and say to his back, "Thanks, you're
doing a great job."   He whips around and eyes me, "Listen
mister, if you got any problems with me, you see me!  Okay!"
This sounds more like a command than a request.  Then he
breathes deep and says, "Look, get me something to drink;
this is a piss lot of work and we got nothing to drink in
the whole fuckin house."

I didn't know how to react.  "You mean beer?"  I paused and
looked at his face.  Almost casually he spits out, "I been
drinking beer long before I moved in here."

The sound of his words and his breath makes me realize how
close I am standing to him. And I'm staring at his tits, his
arms.  I can smell the sweat dripping from his pits.  And
I'm lost thinking to myself, "He is so fuckin hot, this
sweaty boy who is talking about beer."

My overwhelming gut awareness of him forces me to take my
eyes off him.  I quickly turn away.  I am afraid.  As I
start walking toward the house, shaking, feeling that sex
feeling in my nuts. I hear him say, "Hey mister, which door,
mister?"

"Oh." I fumble, "The.the back door, the frig is in the
back."  But I'm thinking "What a stupid fuckin thing to
say." I don't care what door he comes in!

"Shit, you sure got a nice, clean place." He mumbles as he
holds his arms around himself inside my kitchen. He's
looking around when he blurts out, " Who keeps it so fucken
clean?"

" I do."  But the minute I am saying it, I'm feeling like
he's putting something together.

"Ya.really?!  Real nice place you got here." He looks around
like he is taking some measurements.

"Here's the beer. You want something else to go with it."
My hard is outstretched with the beer when I realize that I
am staring at him, again!   Fuck!

"Ah, no . you ." He stops, jerks his head -- staring at me
and spits out, "Why are you always looking at me like that
for?"  And suddenly he slams the beer down on the kitchen
counter.

All I sense is the smell of his body.  I am short of breath
as I gasp, I don't know how to respond but I almost whimper
out, "I . I guess . I like the way you look."

"You are so fuckin weird!"  he shouts.  I shiver.

"Fuck you!" he says.  He turns and bangs open the kitchen
door.

In panic I almost plead, " But . thanks . thanks for fixing
up the lawn."  He's bending over picking up his tools and
walking away.

"Ya!" he says.

Then just as suddenly he stops, turns and glares at me,
pauses and walks out the door toward his home.  I think I
hear him whistle.  I think I hear him mutter, "what an
asshole."

Well, from that day on Senior is just all friendly.  We
actually become sort of across-the-fence friends.  He
borrows that; and he lends me this.  I got no clue as to why
this is happening.  But I begin to find out the odds and
ends of their lives. He starts talking to me like he's been
knowing me all my life.

Senior sells medical equipment and is gone on long trips.
The kid did an early out on high school.  He got good grades
but never wants to do anything, according to senior.  There
never was a mother; she walked out on them both . damn near
the day junior was born.  He is afraid Junior is picking up
bad habit from him.

Then comes the comment that changes my life forever.  He
wants ME to watch his place when he leaves town for back
east next month!

"No parties."  He demands as he stands in my living room for
the first time.  Funny how both of them spit in my face when
they say crap like that.

He thrusts a piece of paper into my hand.  "I told that
fucker just what I'm telling you.that you are to call the
fuckin cops' if he has a party.   He knows it."  This
conversation happened in my front room.

"Hey, Johnny says you have a maid.that true?  He's sure
right.  Your place is all nice and clean."  I'm getting that
scared feeling again cause I don't know where this
conversation is leading.

"No maid." I manage.

" I just don't have the time for shit like that." He adds.
But then he appears to thinks about what he just said and
says, "Nothing personal."

Well, things didn't change much that month.  Their lives go
on like before, except but junior takes to peeing just a
little more toward my bedroom window; coming closer toward
my house on those long weekends afternoons until he just is
pointing his dick toward my window.

His shirt is off most of the summer and he's really into
rubbing his stomach.  One day he pinches one of his tits as
I spy on him.  He jumps feeling it and starts doing it more
as he takes one more backyard beer piss.

Then one late afternoon, as I'm watching him, he pulls down
his out his dick and tries to piss but nothing happens.
Soon he laughs, stops and pulls down his shorts and
underwears.  I freaked as he squats down and takes a dump.
I can see the long turd pushing out his asshole and falling
on the ground cause his back is toward me.  I can't get
close enough to the window; I'm afraid he'll see me.

He's like that for a couple minutes - grunting, laughing and
shitting.  Then he sticks his finger up his asshole,
collecting shit and begins to wipe it on the grass.  He must
be silly drunk cause this takes way too much time.

Suddenly Senior comes out the door and screams at him, "What
the fuck are you doing!! You fuckin stupid jerk! Pick up
that shit and get rid of it!"

"But Dad."

"Now!  And don't ever be doing that again!"

And then . CRASH!  My chair slips and I fall on the bedroom
carpet.

Senior belts out, "What the fuck do you think the neighbors
are gonna think if they see you taking a dump?"

"Fuck the neighbors!" says junior

"Move it, mister."  By the time I am able to sneak another
look, senior was pulling his dick out, his back toward me,
and he is pissing on the spot where the turd used to be,
laughing.

Well, the month ended and senior left town.

The very first night he was gone, Junior has the whole house
and front yard full of fucken low-life types.  Radios are
screeching music in parked cars; beer bottles are landing on
the yard and breaking on the sidewalk.  There is a lot of
deep male laughter and an occasional female sequel.  Damn,
this neighborhood has never seen anything like it.  I know
why Senior didn't want a party.

It's fucken scary but Senior laid down the law, so I figure
I'll try to find junior and tell him what we both know .
that he had only one instruction while he dad was gone: No
parties.

I wander over, to all kinds of stares from both boy and
girls.  They're whispering as I walk through the front door,
looking for Johnny.  I guess I just know where he is.  So I
head for the sliding glass doors and the backyard.

As I turn the corner, sure enough there his backside is.  I
know his dick is out of his jeans. I can see the piss
between his legs.  His pants are dropped down so I can see
his white butt.

"Johnny."  He turns his head when he hears my voice. He
rolls his eyes.

"What the fuck is it with you mister.  Do you actually like
watching me piss? Ain't you never seen it before!"  So he
turns the rest of his body and pisses right at my feet. He
is wobbling; swinging from side to side.he's fucked up!  The
piss dribbles out and for a minute he kinda stands there
like a little boy.

There we are standing there; loud music, laughter from
inside; an open door and closed curtains between us the rest
of the party.  "Ya, I know, no parties," he says.

I almost whisper, "I got two things to say.  You once told
me that if I had a problem with you to tell you.  Second,
you know what your father told me to do if you had a party.
Right?"  He nodes.

"So I'll give you a little while to get this mess cleaned up
and to get your friends out of here and we'll just say it
never happened.

I stopped talking as he raised his head and glared into my
eyes.  I couldn't take his stare cause it's like he knows
something about me  I'm getting freaked again.  His body
stands up straight. His fist are closed. I am sure he is
gonna smash me into the wall. I think he is gonna start
shouting, "fag, fag, fag!'

Some feeling is coming over me.  My life is changing.

"Okay?"  I stutter.  I lower my head and stare down at his
Vans shoes; he's pissed on them.

An hour later the party is over; the house is quiet and
there is a knock on my door.

I open it slowly, pause and looking down at the filthy,
dirty shoes; then up at his thighs, the white shorts that
settle just above his crotch hair, his blond haired treasure
trail to go up his navel, abs and pecs, tanned, that thin
mustache and the curly blond hair.  This time I cannot bring
my eyes to his.

"Get me a beer." He says pushing past me and walking into
the front room of my house.

I offer him the beer as he sets with his feet up on the
coffee table.  "I did it cause dad said so."

He says and grabs the beer.  Then he holds his head back on
the couch and drinks down the entire fucken thing just
moving his throat muscles.  He takes the can from his lips
and force belches a couple of times.  I'm standing frozen in
front of him.

He eyes me.  "I did it all except for the cleaning part.
The fucken place is a mess."

I catch the empty beer can as he throws at me.  "I figure
that you can do that part, ain't that right?"

"Well, sure, I can help you if you really need me to."

"I don't think you understand, mister."  His eyes are
dancing like he is on to something.  "The work part is what
I need you for."

Now it starts.  I've never been here before but I know "its"
coming.

"You see I figure you owe me.  I did what you wanted ; now
you get to do what I want.  And something else."

His eyes now glitter and it is over for me.

"See, I figure you're kind of whipped, you know."  His
speech slows down like he gauges my reaction, then, "like
pussy whipped."

I don't move, my breathing is stopped, and I'm sweating.  My
dick is hard up my pants.

"I mean, its like all those bitches of my old man, dude."

He pauses, "Get me another beer."

I turn immediately and head for the kitchen as he shouts
after me.  "See there you  go, just doing what I say!  Holy
shit, this is fuckin weird."

I'm back with the beer.  "Jesus, what an asshole you are."

I stand in front of this kid - years younger than me,
waiting while I know he is beginning to realize the extent
of the power he has over me by each drunken minute.

In the silence I think that he might just laugh and leave
but I'm even more frightened because I don't know where I
am.  And turned on; because my dick is rock hard and I gonna
shot.  And his is hard, too.  I can see it in his pants and
he's seen my eyes looking at it and knows.

He's getting really hot.  "Get me some more beer, bitch."

"Okay."

Before I get away he says,  "You want to say more than that,
huh?  Huh?   HUH!"

His body is getting animated; his chest is heaving, his pecs
are pumping up as he straighten out his arms behind his
head.  He is feel no pain  as I stare at his half naked
hairless  teenage body.

He starts screaming, "Huh!  HUH!"

"Yes." I mumble.

"Yes what?  Goddamn you are such a pussy.  How the fuck did
you get so whipped?  How the fuck did you did you get this
ways?  God damn . say something bitch."

Then he stands. He slaps me on my face, screaming, "Say
something!"

"I can." I stutter.  "I  don't."

My mind is gone.

My legs give out like there were supposed to. I drop to the
ground and my world falls away forever.  My breath goes out
and my life is in my mouth.  My face comes down to grovel
and my tongue comes out of my month and I start to lick his
filthy shoes.

I find the big hole on the outside of the shoe and my tongue
seeks out teenage toe jam I know the stinking stuff will be
there.  I slobber over the hole, spit all over it and gag on
the smell but I lick and blubber over the toe I find.

I turn into an animal living for the smell and dirt of his
shoe and his feet.the dirt inside his toes.  I start to rub
my face from side to side across the top of the show.  My
own drool makes shoe dirt and stink cover my face.

Out of the air comes the voice, "Holy fucken shit, you're a
total freakin, dude.  Even my old man worst, maggot bitches
won't do that kind of shit."

My mouth works up to lick the light hair on his legs.  I
reach this ankle and up his calf muscles. I remain on the
floor just reaching my neck up as high as it goes to lick
the skin.

Dazed, I moan and wither on the floor and submit to the dirt
to the dirt around his ankles.

And then again the voice from above, "Holy shit.  Holy shit.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with you.  Look at you!
Down there on the floor like some sort of bitch-in-heat for
my shoes!  Fuck!  Why don't you lick the bottom of them,
too"

He lifts the show and my addicted tongue did as it was
directed.  "Maybe there is some dong shit down there for you
to lick up."  I clean every corner of the sole.

Then he starts to laugh  "This is fucken riot."

Then just as suddenly he stops, putting his foot down.

"What the fuck!"  I feel him looking at me.  "Fuck you
asshole!"

Then that same shoe kicks me in the face and knocks my head.
I seeing stars.

I whimper, "Please.please."

I start to crawl back to his shoe. The next kick is harder
and aim at my jaw.
"Please.please.please."   Again I move toward his feet.  My
tongue is hanging out of my mouth.  I want to offer it to
the lumpy dirt between his sticky  toes and the foul taste
of his toe jam.

I look up at him.  "I need it." I cry.

"You're a fucken sicko bitch!"  Then I see his leg moving
and again and this time his dirty shoe is aim at my stomach.
"Fuck, you are nasty."

But he know me now.  His hand go to his jeans. He unbuttons
them and they fall to his thighs.  He grabs his dick.  He's
grunting, waving his dick in my face.  "Shit!"  Then it
comes; a whole night of piss.  He cuts loose.

He starts pissing over me, the floor, the chairs, the tables
and then back to me and my open dog mouth.. He fills it up
with the last few drops.  "Fucken toilet."  Relieved, he
sits down on the chair across the room.  I'm try to swallow
piss as slow as I can.

His dick  is still our of his pants and he's just staring at
me like he can't believe it and I'm staring at his dick and
he starting to get hard.

"So this is what you fags do, huh?  But, I always thought
you got dick up the asshole and shit like that. This is a
riot.  I love this crap.  You run around for me; get me
things to drink; clean up my house, right.all this and
probably more for a lick of my old shoes.  Shit!

"But I am getting outa here.  It smells bad in here!  Come
on pansy; come on next door and let play house!"

I just followed.

A couple of years later he got mad at me one night because I
wouldn't eat his shit.  He went out to a gay club, picked
some one up some guy his age; went home with him.  Once
inside just stood there waiting for the guy to get on his
knees in from of him.

He probably wanted the guy to lick the bottom of his feet
but the guy tried to kiss him.  Johnny smacked the guy
upside of the head, called him a fag and came back home.

End part 1

Emails will encourage the writer to tell you more about
Johnnie and the guy who he fucks with.