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Things have
improved for us over the past five years. As we acquired new and better
things, we gave the old stuff back to the thrift shops.
Sal deserves some credit for our early success, although I would have
preferred that he used a different sales technique. Part of our pay
was a commission for each new tenant we rented to. You guessed right.
Every time a man came in, Sal would take him to the furnished sample
apartment. I thought that it was rather strange that he would have to go
back to that apartment right after he signed a lease. The tenant turnover
was high enough to keep our commissions above average for the management
company as a whole. I suppose I shouldn't complain too much considering
the fiscal benefits that I have enjoyed. I'm sorry; I'm getting ahead of
myself.
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I suppose
I should tell you a little about us so you can understand how things
happened the way they did. We met in college, freshman English if I
remember right. We hit it off immediately. By our third date, we were
ready to hop into bed together. His parents were less than thrilled when
he brought me home for spring break in our sophomore
year, but already knowing that their son is gay, they tolerated our
sharing his bedroom. Sal is a very sexy dude. His shoulder length light
brown hair frames his pretty face. He has high, wide cheek bones, jade
green eyes, a natural smile that shows his perfect teeth. His figure could
turn any queen's head; in fact, it has more than once. He once commented
that he wished that he was twenty years older so he wouldn't be bothered
by street remarks and cat calls so much. I guess that I've known what's
going on for about a year now. I work in the office too from time to time.
We have a pair of walkie-talkies which we use to communicate around the
building. He lets me know when he's leaving the office, and I go in and
cover until he gets back. Usually he calls me when he is taking a
prospective new resident up to see the sample apartment. I have to know
how to handle payments, show prospects around, do leases, and such. There
have been many times when both of us were doing rentals at the same time.
It was one day last June, I think, when Sal paged me to cover the office.
When I got there, a guy in his early twenties was just turning
away from the office door. "Can I help you with something?" I asked him. |
"I'm looking for the manager," he answered. "I
need an apartment."
"My partner and I are the managers," I said. I took him into the office
and had him fill out an information card. His name was Carl.
He was single, in his mid-twenties, earned a lot more than Sal and I do.
His attire didn't hide much. The tight jeans put a lot of his cock
on display, and he had a LOT to display! His jeans hugged his ass very
tightly. He was every bit as beautiful as Sal. Change hair
color and facial features a little bit and they could be twins. "What size
apartment are you looking for?" I asked when the form was
finished. I had trouble making eye contact with him. "A one-bedroom will
do," he said. "Would it be possible to see one?"
"We have a sample you may see. It won't be the one you would be getting,
but it is identical to it."
I opened the apartment door with the master key and let him go in first. I
began the tour with the living room because that's the first room we
entered. The furnishings were the bare minimum; it was rented so there
only was a sofa, TV, two end tables, and two lamps. Keeping the amount of
furniture down helped make the room look spacious. The galley kitchen with
the pass-through to the dining area at the end of the living room was
next. I suggested that he open the cupboards and refrigerator in
accordance with company procedures. |
When he and I went toward the bedroom, I
noticed that the door was closed, which was not only odd, but against
policy. As I placed my hand on the knob, I thought I heard the sounds of
sexual passion coming from inside the bedroom. My ears had to be playing
tricks on me, I told myself. No one else could be in the apartment with
the possible exception of Sal and his prospect. He hadn't told me which
sample he was going to, but still there was no reason for the bedroom door
to be closed or for anyone to be in that room. Just to be on the safe
side, I turned the knob very slowly and eased the door open a couple of
inches. Lying on the bed was my beautiful lover with his eyes closed, his
pants down around his ankles, and some guy's face buried in his lap. He
was licking up and down Sal's huge cock and making hmmmm sounds. My shock
must have registered on my face because Carl was staring at me. I started
to pull the door shut but he put his hand on it and peered into the room.
It was his turn to be shocked.
"Are you sure we're in the right apartment?" he whispered, looking at me.
I nodded my head. He turned his attention back to the bedroom activities.
I tried again to close the door, but he put a shoe into the opening.
Involuntarily, I looked back, too. The gay was licking Sal's balls, going
up one and down the other. Each time his tongue passed Sal's cock, he
gasped. |
I don't know
what I was feeling at that moment, or what I should have felt. There was
my beautiful lover of five years being eaten by a total stranger. I was
getting turned on by the scene. I was also in shock. He shouldn't have
been lying there like that. If there was to be any sex going on in that
room, it should have been with me. I don't mean the guy with me; I mean
Sal with me. He's my lover. He belongs to me. I don't mean like he's my
property; I mean....Damn it! I'm still confused. I don't know what I mean.
There are the vows we took, the promise to be with only each other. That's
what I mean, or I think so. My dick was growing into a stick.
My breathing slowed. Sal had the most blissful expression. I wondered if
that was how he looked when I went down on him. Suddenly Sal clamped his
thighs against the guy's head. That's what he does whenever I suck on his
cock and make him cum. I knew I should dash into the room and rip his head
off, but I had enjoyed seeing him climax even if I hadn't given it to him.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard a voice say "Get him off
again." Horrified, I recognized the voice as my own. I didn't care that he
was with somebody else; suddenly all I cared about was Sal's pleasure. |
| I felt a
hand stroking my hardon through my pants. I looked down and saw that it
was Carl's. His other hand grasped my wrist and drew my hand up around
him. My hand found its way into his pants and caressed his thick hard
prick. The damn thing was already rigid. Nature took command and I kissed
his neck while watching Sal and his stud through the narrow door opening.
My fly seemed to open on its own, and my turgid cock found itself free
from the confines on my pants. The guy stood up just long enough to pull
off his golf shirt and to push his pants and shorts down to his knees
before crawling between Sal's open legs. His prick was ready for action.
Sal took it in his hands and led it to his ass opening. I repositioned my
hands so that I had one of Carl's balls in each one. Slowly I traced a
circle around each of his balls as the guy's shaft disappeared into Sal's
fuckhole. Seconds later a portion of it reappeared as he began thrusting
into him. Meanwhile, Carl's hand had me close to shooting my wad. My left
hand was also holding on to him. His cock dripped with anticipation of the
entry of a hard dick into his own asshole. He had a willing volunteer in
his hand. Between Carl's hand on my meat and watching Sal getting plowed,
I was so hot that I didn't care if there was such a thing as fidelity. The
old joke that men think with their dicks was certainly true at that
moment.
|
As the guy's
back arched and his balls began to pump his sperm into Sal's hole, Carl
and I dashed for the sofa. He was pushing his pants all the way down and I
was opening my belt and zipper as we ran. He stretched out as I lowered my
pants and shorts to my ankles. His legs parted and I knelt between them.
Guided by his hand, my boner slipped into his hot tunnel with ease. The
moment my prick touched bottom, I began slapping meat into him. There were
no preliminaries, no foreplay, no kissing, just raw hard fucking. We both
were so aroused by what we had seen that we needed instant release. Our
breathing was a rapid series of short, deep gasps.
Carl came first. My hips didn't stop when his anus muscles gripped my rod.
The urge to blast off kept my butt moving. Carl's hole was tight which
supplied the necessary friction, but my orgasm was building slowly. All of
my attention was centered on my shaft pistoning his cylinder. I thought I
heard a door close, but it was not worth noticing. Faster, faster, faster,
harder, harder, harder, my ass moved
until, at last, my back arched and I was buried completely in him. My feet
tried to curl inside my work shoes, but couldn't. My nut sac
pulled up and emptied its contents into Carl's mancunt. Several minutes
passed before either of us could breath. My muscles
felt like I had just worked out when I stiffly lifted myself off him. |
"Think we can see the bedroom now?" he said as
he sat up, my sticky white cream seeping out of him onto the sofa. I
pulled up my pants, then held out my hand to him to help him stand. The
bedroom was empty, but the comforter was still piled in a heap at the foot
of the bed. After a cursory look at the closets, Carl excused himself to
use the bathroom. I was wiping the pecker tracks from the sofa with a
paper towel when he came out. "What happened to my pants?" he asked. They
should have been lying on the living room carpet, but they were nowhere to
be found. "Are you trying to keep them as a souvenir?"
"No," I said, "I have no idea what happened....oh, shit."
"What's the matter?"
"I think I know where they are. So, what do you think of the apartment?"
"I like it, but I would like to have my jeans back."
"We're going to have to go to the office."
"I don't understand. Oh, I get it. Let me see if I've got this right. That
was your lover in there?" I felt my face turn crimson. "Right."
"And he picked them up on his way out."
"Probably."
"That is the sneakiest marketing ploy I've ever seen. In order to get my
jeans back, I have to sign a lease."
"I didn't know he was in here. Honest."
"But I still have to sign a lease?"
"That's up to you." I went over the terms of the lease emphasizing that it
did not include my bedroom services. |
Sal was
finishing a lease with his stud when Carl and I entered the office. He and
the guy exchanged sheepish grins. The paperwork took about ten minutes. By
the time Carl left, he had gotten his missing jeans back.
"That was an interesting sales technique," Sal said when we were alone.
"Where did you learn that one?"
"From you," I shot back. "How long have you been using it?"
"What difference does it make? Or are you going to complain about our
commission checks?" The checks were very good. I had often wondered how he
could have such a good closing percentage, but I had never had the nerve
to ask. I rarely did any renting because it wasn't my department, although
I suspected that was about to change.
I stopped. The other men were silent. According to the rules of the group,
questions or comments were not allowed. I stayed on the stool
for a minute debating to myself whether I should mention that we have a
couple of vacancies. THE END
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