109 Brevard Street

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In hindsight, if something sounds too good to be true — it probably is. I learned that lesson the hard way.

I was 22 years old, working a dead-end job, my love life was non-existent, couldn’t afford to go to college like the rest of my friends, and because I wasn’t making enough money, I had to move back in with my parents. I was desperate to make a change.

After living with my folks for a few months, I figured I’d saved enough money to put my plan into action. I said goodbye to family and friends, packed my car, and headed south.

I had studied a U.S. map and decided I’d move south to warmer weather; not a huge city, but good-sized; and it was near the Gulf of Mexico. I was excited; I’d do things differently there. I’d get a good job, a nice apartment and meet southern girls and make new friends.

I drove for three days, constantly dreaming and fantasizing about what awaited me at my new ‘home’. I was going to work hard to be more outgoing and less shy. My shyness hurt me in many ways: I had a difficult time meeting and talking with girls; and I wasn’t very assertive with friends and employers. I let people walk all over me. That was going to change!

My heart was pounding with excitement as I drove past the ‘city limits’ sign of my new town. Everything looked bright and new. I stopped and bought a city map and newspaper and scoured the ‘apartment for rent’ section. This was going to be harder than I thought: the apartment prices were higher than I thought they’d be.

I had a fast food lunch in the car, all the time staring at the paper. When I reached ‘duplexes for rent’, my spirits picked up again. Those were prices I could afford. I wrote down some addresses, and when I finished lunch, I checked the addresses on the map. Most of them seemed to be near each other in the same neighborhood.

After looking at the first three places I was feeling down again. I wouldn’t let a dog live in those places, I thought.

I was driving up and down one street at a time, using a main thoroughfare, Kennedy Blvd, as my starting point. I’d exhausted the possibilities from the newspaper, now I was driving slow, looking out for ‘For Rent’ signs. I was frustrated and getting nervous.

From Kennedy Blvd I turned right on Brevard Street. Looking at the left side of the street and then right side suddenly something caught my eye. I backed up the car and parked. I saw a small ‘For Rent’ sign taped to a porch wall. The house number was 109.

It was a huge house. A nice house — a little older, but it appeared to be well-maintained. I gathered my courage and walked up to the house. On the bottom of the ‘For Rent’ sign was scribbled, ‘Inquire inside at

‘. I opened the front door and walked in. Number 1 was on my immediate left. I knocked. I knocked some more. No one came. I didn’t know how much more frustration I could take. As I opened the front door to leave someone shouted down at me from the second floor.

“Mister T isn’t home now, he should be back pretty soon.”

“Ah, thanks,” I replied.

I heard him come down the stairs. He was about my age, with blonde hair. He was a couple inches shorter than me. His shirt was unbuttoned; he was in good shape.

He studied me for a few seconds then said: “Hi, I’m Billy.”

“I’m John.” We shook hands.

“You looking for a place?” he asked.

“Yeah…it’s getting a little tiring. I’ve looked at a lot of apartments today. There aren’t many in my price range.”

An odd smile crossed his lips: “You should wait and talk to Mister T. Number 2 is vacant. It’s really nice and Mister T doesn’t charge much rent. Want to wait on the porch?”

“Yeah…okay. You talked me into it.”

He smiled again: “Want a beer while you wait?”

Normally I would have automatically declined the offer, but I thought, well, here’s your chance to start acting ‘differently’.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds great!”

There were a couple love seats on the porch and I sat down and waited.

Billy came down with two beers; he sat next to me. I thought it was strange since there was another chair to sit on, but again, I scolded myself for reverting back to my old, negative self.

We had a nice talk. He’d lived upstairs for almost two years. He moved here from another city, too. He didn’t work; he said his parents sent him money. He said he loved this town, but didn’t go out much. He liked to paint. He painted portraits, landscapes, and he loved the Gulf, but didn’t get over there much because he didn’t have a car.

“Sometimes Mister T will take me there and we’ll spend the day.”

A big old Lincoln Town Car came up the street: “Oh, there’s Mister T.”

We watched him park in front of my car and he got out. He was old, maybe sixty, and out of shape; he had a small pot belly. He was bald on top of his head with thin grey hair on each side. He stared at me the whole time he walked to the house.

Billy introduced us: “Mister T, this is Johnny. He’s interested in number 2.”

I tried to correct Billy: “Ah, John, I go by John. Nice eryaman escort to meet you, Mister T.”

We shook hands. He looked me up and down. “You’re a good looking boy, Johnny. Is your girl moving in with you?”

I blushed: “Ah…no…ah, I just moved to town. I’m by myself.”

Billy chimed in: “Yeah, he got here this afternoon. He’s from out of town.”

Mister T looked at the beer I was holding: “You’re not an alcoholic, are you?”

I blushed again: “No- no…”

Billy interrupted: “I gave him one. We were being sociable.”

The expression on Mister T’s face never changed.

“You want to see number 2?” he asked, and I nodded. “Good. Follow me.”

We went inside. Billy went upstairs to his apartment. Mister T opened the door on number 2. We walked into the living room. It was big; it was furnished; there was a 32″ flat screen tv on the wall opposite the couch; the room was fantastic.

My immediate thought was that it was too expensive.

Mister T gave me the tour; a big, full kitchen; a large bathroom; the bedroom was spacious, too, with a king-sized bed. There was another 32″ tv on the wall facing the bed.

Two 32″ flat screen tv’s? Now I knew this place was too expensive.

He opened the closet door, there were clothes still hanging in there. I looked closely: there were maybe ten negligees on hangars with what looked to be matching panties.

“That damn girl didn’t take everything with her when she left. Don’t throw’em away, she might be back for’em…I doubt it though. Leave’em be — hell, for all I care you can wear’em!”

My face turned beet red.

We returned to the living room.

“So, whadya think, Johnny? You like it?”

“Well…yeah, yes, it’s great. How, ah… how much is the rent?”

He told me. I was stunned. I was speechless.

“You want it?”

“Good God, yes…I mean…yeah, oh yeah I want it!”

“Good! Come over to my place and you can fill out the paperwork.”

I followed him into his apartment.

There wasn’t much paperwork. Name, driver’s license, my car’s plate number. But then he asked for complete names, addresses and phone numbers for my family and five friends. I had to go to my car and get my address book.

When I was finished, I gave him two month’s rent and he handed me the keys.

He shook my hand and smiled: “I think you’re gonna enjoy living here, Johnny.”

I decided for the rent I was paying, being called ‘Johnny’ would be fine with me.

I only had to make four trips to unload my car. Exploring my new apartment, I noticed a few more things than I had earlier.

There were pots, pans, plates and silverware in the kitchen, so I left mine in their box. The bathroom already was stocked with toiletries. It almost looked like they were left behind.

And then there were the mirrors. Large, almost floor-to-ceiling mirrors; one in the bathroom; a huge one in the living room; and three more in the bedroom. Something made me look up in the bedroom, and — WTF? There was a large mirror on the ceiling over the bed.

Good God — what the hell is all this? I wondered.

There was a knock on the door and I heard Billy call my name. I let him in.

“Welcome, neighbor!” he said, and handed me a beer. “You like it?”

“Like it? I love it! And it’s so cheap! How can he rent it so cheap?”

“I think he’s still living in the 1900’s,” he said, and we laughed.

“What’s with all the mirrors?” I asked.

“Oh, that girl who lived here was pretty kinky.” He smiled. “Now when you get a girl over here you can watch in the mirrors.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s more like I can watch myself beat-off.” I blurted out without thinking.

Billy laughed and laughed. Then he asked: “Are you getting hungry neighbor?”

As a matter of fact, I was. It was almost dinner time. The afternoon had flown by.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good. I’ve got a couple steaks I need to cook up. You interested?”

“God, yes.” And we headed up the stairs to Billy’s apartment.

Throughout dinner we chatted like old friends. Billy was a good story teller; funny, self-deprecating, and easy to follow. He was a good listener, too. He got me to open up about myself — usually I was too shy around new acquaintance’s to say much, not so with Billy.

It was getting late, I said I’d better get some sleep. I needed to find a job as soon as possible.

He winced and said: “You know, Johnny, this is a right-to-work state, don’t you?” he asked.

I frowned: “What’s that mean?”

“Well, if you don’t have a college degree, or some kind of special training, you’re not gonna make jack-shit in this state. The companies have you by the balls here!”

It didn’t make sense to me. Where I came from plenty of jobs paid good wages without a degree. I just shrugged it off. We said our goodbyes and I went to ‘my new apartment’.

I turned the light on in my bedroom: it glowed red. There was a red bulb in the lamp. Good God, sincan escort I wish I could’ve met that girl who lived here, I thought.

I stripped to my underpants. That’s how I slept.

Before I climbed into bed I went to the closet. I flipped on the light — that light was normal. I slowly looked over the negligees. I stopped at the red one. I took it off the hangar and held it up. When I felt the soft, sleek material of the matching red panties my penis instantly got hard. I blushed. I put them back in the closet and fell into bed.

The next day I drove all around town looking for work. The want ads had plenty of jobs, but I found out Billy was right. Every job I applied for paid minimum wage. It was discouraging. More discouraging was I couldn’t even get hired at a minimum wage job.

To make matters worse, it was very hot and very humid. By the time I got home I was drenched in sweat. I just wanted to take a long, cold shower.

Billy knocked on the door; he’d seen me from his window. He gave me a cold beer. He said after my shower to come upstairs and have dinner. I drained the beer and stood under the cold water for ten minutes.

Billy’s apartment was an oven. He had a window air conditioner, but he said Mister T would only allow him to run it at night to help him sleep. It was too expensive. Billy wore boxer shorts and a t-shirt. He asked if I’d mind if he took off his t-shirt. I said go for it.

We sat and had wine before dinner. I was roasting; sweating, very uncomfortable. Billy noticed. He went into his bedroom and came back with a pair of gym shorts. Of course, I said no, but he finally talked me into putting them on. I went into the bathroom and changed. They were very short. I went back to the sofa and sat down. He laughed. He was sitting across from me and said he could see my underwear. He said wearing your undies with the shorts defeated the whole purpose of staying cool. He said I should take off my shirt so I did.

I was uncomfortable at first with both of us being nearly nude, but it didn’t seem to bother Billy, so I quickly forgot about it.

Dinner was great. Lasagne, salad and garlic bread. It was delicious. Afterwards, I offered to help Billy with the dishes but he refused. He told me to sit on the couch and he’d bring me a drink.

He was such a nice guy I began to feel a genuine affection for him. Not in a sexual way, of course. But I felt very close to him. Naturally I had friends back home, but this was different.

“This is called a ‘green job’,” he said as he handed me a drink. “One shot of brandy-one shot of green crème de menthe-and then fill the glass with soda water. It’s very refreshing!”

He was right. It was refreshing, and it tasted good, too.

He joined me on the sofa. We talked and laughed. I was starting to feel the alcohol. He moved closer to me. He was telling a long story of his high school days; he was one of those who liked to talk using their hands for emphasis. One time he would put his hand on my shoulder; the next time he’d brush my thigh. His voice was soothing. My penis grew erect in my shorts. I hoped he didn’t notice.

He walked over to the window; he called to me; ‘You gotta see this!” he exclaimed.

I went to him with my hands in front of me hiding my raging hard-on. He pointed to something. He put his hand on my back and pushed me closer to the window. He stood behind me.

“See…see over there,” he pointed. “They’re building a nest.”

It was almost dark and I had a difficult time seeing anything. He placed his hands on my shoulders. His touch was electric. My penis ached for release. He ran his hands over my chest. He pinched my nipples. Then he kissed my neck and licked my ear. I thought I would cum in my shorts.

He massaged my back. He caressed my bottom. I tried to say ‘no’ but there were no words. My mind was lost in a fog. My penis had never been so hard.

He turned me around to face him. He cradled my head in his hands. He kissed me on the lips. I couldn’t pull away from him. We kissed a long time. I was kissing him back. My mind was gone; all I knew was my throbbing penis needed relief.

He went to his knees. He pulled my shorts and underwear to the floor. He stroked my penis and balls. I groaned out loud.

He took my penis in his mouth and gently sucked it. He ran his tongue over the head. He rubbed my balls with one hand; his other hand stroked the base of my penis. He took my whole penis in his mouth. I was in ecstasy. I imperceptibly moved my hips; pushing my hard penis in-and-out of his mouth. He quickened his sucking. He sensed I was near. His hand stroked me faster-and-faster. I had to let it go. My cum shot out of my penis into his greedily sucking mouth. I filled his mouth and he swallowed it all. When my limp penis slid from his lips, he kissed it, and cleaned it with his tongue.

It was the greatest orgasm of my life!

I didn’t know what to do or say. I was frozen in place.

Billy stood and held me. etlik escort He kissed me and thrust his tongue into my mouth. I ran my tongue over his and tasted my own salty cum. He guided my hand to his rigid cock.


“Just use your hand,” he whispered.

He showed me what he wanted. We stood side by side. My right arm around his waist. My left hand holding his cock. I stroked it for him. Slowly at first. His cock was warm and smooth. It felt wonderful in my hand. My hand went faster-and-faster. He groaned and told me how good I was. His words spurred me on. I was giving a guy a hand job! I didn’t care — it was Billy and he made me feel like the most important person in the world. I stroked him faster. “Rub my balls,” he said. I reached back between his legs and found his heavy ball sac. It was hot and sweaty and I rolled his balls in my fingers.


I had his spunk on my hand. He guided it to my mouth and I licked his semen off my hand. Oh my God, I thought. What have we done? What have we done?

Billy pulled up my shorts, but not before he threw my underwear to the other side of the room. He pulled up his own shorts then led me to the sofa. I sat down. He leaned over and kissed me. I kissed him back.

He went to the kitchen and poured us wine.

Billy sat next to me. Close — our thighs touching; his arm around me stroking my arm. He whispered into my ear.

“Everything will be alright,” he told me. “We’re still friends,” he reassured me. “Except now we’re friends with benefits.”

We laughed and laughed.

“I’d better go,” I said. “Got another day of minimum-wage-job hunting tomorrow.”

He laughed and walked me to the door. We put our arms around each other and had a long, tongue-filled, good-night kiss. My penis became hard again. He felt it against him.

“Johnny, so soon?” he smiled.

I blushed and said good-night.

In my bedroom, I was in a haze. I stripped off the shorts and stood there. My penis pointing straight out. Finally, I went to the closet and found the red negligee and panties. I put them on. I turned off the regular bulb and flicked on the red light and climbed into bed. I lay on my stomach.

I ground my pelvis into the mattress. The feel of my penis against the sheer fabric of the panties drove me mad with desire. My penis was hard against my belly with the panties serving as a buffer with the mattress. I ground into the mattress over-and-over-and-over — until my penis exploded inside the panties. “OH GOD!” I cried out as I flooded the panties with my cum.

I fell into a deep sleep.

When I awoke, I had a raging hard-on. I plodded to the bathroom and peed. Afterwards, the erection still didn’t go down. Odd, I thought. I absentmindedly stroked it thru the panties as I went back to the bedroom. It didn’t feel as good as the night before. The panties were crusted with my dried cum.

As I went to the closet I shook my head in amazement at what I was doing: What the hell is going on?

I found a pair of yellow panties that felt pleasing to the touch. I peeled off the red ones and wriggled into the yellow panties. I still wore the red negligee. I climbed on the bed and lay on my stomach.

I ground my crotch into the mattress. A rush of blood went to my penis-head. I fucked the mattress with everything I had. I began groaning; rubbing my crotch frantically against the mattress. The panties made me insane with lust. My penis throbbed and spurted shot-after-shot of hot cum inside the panties. I lay there a long time trying to catch my breath.

Billy knocked on my door. I pulled on my robe and cinched it tight. I let him inside.

“Johnny, there might be an opening at XYZ Liquor Store on East Hillsborough. There’s an ad in this morning’s paper…are you alright? You look kind of funny.”

“Yeah…ah, I…”

The aroma of my semen wafted upward where we both smelled it.

He smiled broadly. “Johnny, you’re insatiable! Oh, here’s the address.”

He kissed me and turned to leave then said: “Oh, we’re having crab legs for dinner tonight. C’mon over after 4 ‘clock. Oh, and…wear your shorts — WITHOUT underwear, okay?” he was laughing as he left.

MY GOD! Even Billy knew I was jerking off. What’s gotten into me?

I took off the robe, negligee and panties and took a long, hot shower. I soaped myself up good — I paid extra attention to my crotch area to get rid of that smell.

In the bedroom I noticed my socks and underwear hadn’t been put away yet. I opened the top drawer of the chest, and found it full of…geez…panties! WTF? There must have been twenty pairs. About half were lace, and the rest were the sheer, smooth material like the ones in the closet. I began to breathe harder. My penis rose.

“Get a grip, John,” I told myself.

I closed the drawer. The other drawers were empty so I put away my clothes. I got dressed in a daze. For a brief moment, I thought about wearing a pair of lace panties under my slacks. I pushed that thought out of my mind.

It felt good to be in my car and on the road. I had the windows down and the fresh air cleared my head. I thought about the last 12 hours and couldn’t figure out why I was acting this way. I’ve never acted like that in my life! I always had strong self-control.

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