I signed up for the class because I was getting tired of the same old same old, I was stuck in a rut of being CFO, making deals on the golf course, taking the dog for a walk, having dinner with the in laws. Actually it was my wife who suggested I’d find a way to express myself creatively and sign up for an art class. He signed up because he was young and he wanted to work on his portfolio to hopefully eventually get into Art School, at least he told me later.
But that first night I didn’t know that. I had just *****ed an easel, I unwrapped my brand new paintbrushes and organized them by size. I’d forgotten to buy turpentine, but I found a bottle of chloroform in the garage and I figured that would act as a solvent too.
I had introduced myself to the lady next to me, who was here because of some energetic blockade in her spine she wanted to resolve, and then he walked into our classroom. It wasn’t necessarily love at first sight, but there was definitely and obsessive attraction and intense lust at first sight. He was this slender young man, dressed in those colorful wide harem pants, a tight t-shirt that beautifully accentuated his six pack and his chest muscles, those gorgeous blue eyes.
My heart beat rapidly and I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. Now this wasn’t the first time I fell in love with another man, but what I felt before was just a superficial infatuation compared to the all encompassing obsession I felt for this guy. Those previous infatuations were easy to suppress and I’d never been unfaithful to my wife, but the moment I saw him I knew I was lost.
What I felt now couldn’t be pushed away, I wanted to be with him, I needed to be with him. Although I didn’t even know if he was gay too. Artists were always somewhat flamboyant, and besides flamboyancy wasn’t an accurate measure of gayness.
The teacher put a fruit bowl in front of us. She talked a little about the light and the shadows and how the exercise was to look at the the shapes of the light, but it didn’t really register. I was only focused on him, he had an itch on his ear and scratched, he tilted his head and squinted his eyes while he studied the fruit bowl, he chewed on the back of his paintbrush before deciding were on the canvas he would put the paint. That caused a smudge of yellow paint to graze his chin. He didn’t wipe it off. He was blissfully unaware of that smudge and then a plan formed in my head.
It wasn’t a plan at necessarily, it was more like a sexual fantasy. I imagined me wiping the smudge from his face with my chloroformed rag, he would get lightheaded and dizzy and he would faint into my arms. I would kiss him and grope him. I would admire his body and somehow because he was unconscious it wouldn’t be cheating, I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it to my wife at home.
I knew my logic was faulty, but sexual fantasies don’t always have to be that logical, right? They’re just a sequence of sexy images that get your cock hard, and my cock was bulging in my pants now. I was already wearing jeans that were a tad bit too small, because that’s why they became my stain filled DIY trousers in the first place, but now the tightness was hurting my cock. I wriggled my hips and tried to hide my bulge and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I locked myself in a stall and started jerking off. I just needed a quick release, when I’d released all this sexual energy I could properly focus on the art class.
I wiped off my cum with some toilet paper. When I came out of the stall he was standing there. A shot of adrenaline. I started blushing and stuttering, my heart beating furiously, my breath superficial. I inhaled deeply and then inhaled once more and finally I turned on the tap to wash my hands.
‘Hi there.’ He said. ‘I’m Davy, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself yet.’
I nodded and looked at his outreached hand. I wiped my wet soapy hands on my trousers and grabbed his finger, his skin was so soft and warm, the tendons in the back of his hand endlessly fascinating, there was still some paint underneath his nails.
‘I... I’m Roger.’ I stumbled. I giggled hysterically for a moment and made a complete fool out of myself.
‘Nice to meet you Roger, how’s your banana doing?’
My cheeks flushed, was that gay code? Was he asking me about my cock? Did he see me escaping the classroom with a bulge in my pants and did he follow me here to do gay things with me? For a moment I hoped so. I knew nothing about the gay community, but having sex in a bathroom stall, that was a thing, right? That happened in movies.
‘I...’ I didn’t really know what to say. ‘My.... a...’
‘I mean, the apples have those shiny skin, so it’s quite easy to paint the reflective light, but the banana has a much more nuanced lightning gradient, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’ I said. ‘Yes. I mean... so nuanced.’
‘Exactly. See you in class sweetheart.’ Davy patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the bathroom. I felt like an idiot. I felt like one of those idiots in those chick-lit novels my wife liked to read. I took a deep breath and another deep breath. I’d never been in love before, at least not like this.
I cared about my wife, and I was fond of her, there was a sense of familiarity. But whatever I was feeling now was on an whole other scale. I was entering a whole other world. He’d called me sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Was that a gay thing or was that just an artist thing? I splashed some water on my face and returned to the class room. I tried to focus on the fruit, on the painting at hand. Indeed I saw the apples being shiny and the banana being kind of matte. With some white paint I added the light effects, both in the apples and in the banana. When the teacher came by she complimented me about my observations. I accepted the compliment although it was misplaced. Those weren’t my observation, it were Davy’s.
After class when everybody was cleaning their paintbrushes and packing up their stuff, Davy came over to look at my painting, he just stood there, tilting his head and pouting his lips. He seemed deeply entranced in his own thoughts. I was just mesmerized by his pouting lips. I wanted to kiss them so badly. I stared up at the ceiling and tried to compose myself. I didn’t understand why this man about 30 years younger than me, had this magnetic attraction about him, compared to my 54 years old, he was a boy still.
During puberty, the first time I lusted after a boy in my class, I’d decide I wasn’t gay and I would just ignore and suppress those urges, and despite some drunken porn watching now and again I’d been quite successful in ignoring and suppressing those urges. Until now.
I was staring at him, he was staring at my painting and soon we were the only two left in the classroom. He giggled, and apologized and returned to his own easel to clean up. I poured some chloroform on an old towel and I wiped my brushes clean. I didn’t intend to use the chloroform on him, it just sort of happened.
In an impulse I walked over to his painting and pretended to study it, we talked a little bit about the light and shadows in his painting and how they differed from mine since he was looking at the bowl from a different angle. I just happened to have the old rag and the paintbrushes in my hand when we were talking.
‘That’s got a strong smell.’ He said.
‘I know.’ I said. I held the rag in front of his face. ‘Right?’
He started coughing and pushed my hand with the rag away from his face.
‘Yeah, no need to push it into my face, I could smell it perfectly from there.’ He chuckled. ‘You shouldn’t use turpentine by the way, that’s just toxic for the environment, my boyfriend made me a mixture of olive oil and sugar and maybe baking soda I think, I don’t know. It works just as fine turpentine, I’ll bring you the recipe next week.’
‘I would love that.’ I said. ‘Although this isn’t turpentine, it’s...’ I didn’t dare to say it out loud, ‘Never mind.’ There was no smudge on his face to clean up. However there was also no mirror that could accuse me of being a liar.
‘Wait.’ I said when he was walking out of the classroom, there’s paint still. I pushed the cloth into his face, covering his nose and his mouth, pretending to brush off a little paint splatter on his cheek. Again he started coughing.
‘It’s okay.’ He tried to push the cloth away. ‘I’ll take a shower when I get home.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s no trouble.’ I said while trying to keep the cloth in front of his nose and mouth.
‘Roger.’ He said kind of whiny. ‘Roger is your name isn’t it? Stop. Stop it. It’s making me dizzy.’
‘It’s okay.’ I said. ‘I’m almost done.’ I pressed the cloth firmer into his face, full force.
‘What’s happening?’ He said, his eyes big and filled with surprise. His eyes so beautiful. ‘What are you doing? Stop it.’
It was a haze, he started struggling and while he was quite strong and agile, the fumes must have made him quite dizzy already. I pressed him against the wall, his head trapped between the charcoal drawings of another art class and my old towel filled with chloroform. It just didn’t seem real. I felt like I was floating, like I was drunk and watching porn, this throb in my pants following my heartbeat, arousal numbing my mind, horniness numbing my shame and sensibility.
Or maybe the evaporated chloroform was making my mind a little bit hazy too. Anyway he started to falter, his eyes glassed over, his struggles were a faint and useless copy of the struggling he did before, his fingers slipping from my wrist. His eyes rolling back and forth, fluttering eyelids. His head lulling, sinking forward.
‘Sshhh.’ I said. ‘Let’s lie down, okay?’ I guided his limp body to the floor. I pushed some side tables and an easel aside to make room for our bodies, when he was laying on the floor I put the chloroformed rag on his face again, until his eyes finally shut close and his body was completely limp, completely mine.
And then I had the audacity of mind to get up and lock the doors of the classroom. Despite the overwhelming lust and the mesmerizing obsession I felt for his body, there was a sense of self preservation that was even stronger, that made me tear myself away from him, if only for a few seconds, to lock the door and to ensure we would be totally alone.
I kissed him on the lips, it was the first time ever I kissed a man on the lips. His skin still reeked of chloroform, it was muggy and I felt the stubble of his beard. I rubbed my face all over his face. I opened his mouth and trusted my tongue inside investigating the taste of his limp tongue. I rubbed myself against his leg, although not for long. My pants were still way too tight. I exposed myself, my cock already rock hard. It was surprising, I’d just orgasmed less than an hour ago and still it was bouncing stiff and erect, while my wife seemed to think I had erectile dysfunction, especially if I just jerked myself off. Then again my wife was a woman, and this was a gorgeous Adonis.
I pushed his shirt up and ran my hands over his torso. I rubbed my face all over his muscles and then I rubbed my cock against it. I even tried to put my cock in his mouth for a while and fuck him like that. Yet, what I really wanted to to was look at his cock and to touch him there.
Davy was stirring a little bit. He was moaning and rubbing his eyes. I pulled his pants and underpants down. I was in awe, those tiny curls in his pubes were so adorable and cute and sexy, his cock was a limp dollop of flesh laying on top of his balls, and yet it was even more beautiful than any cock I’d ever seen in a porn clip.
I wrapped my hands around it and started tugging on it.
‘What?’ He said languid. He lifted his head a tried to figure out what was going on. He rubbed his eyes and then he tried to push me away. ‘What are you doing?’ He asked.
‘Sshhh.’ I said. I sat down behind him and pulled him on my lap, my one hand covering his mouth my other hand playing with his cock. I felt his cock twitching in between my fingers and I assumed he was getting aroused. His head was resting against my shoulder and lulling from side to side. ‘Sshhh. It’s okay.’ I said once more. I kept on fondling his cock and balls and I even rubbed a finger around his asshole, especially since that seemed to make his cock even harder. It grew into a gorgeous stiff cock within the palm of my hand, a perfectly sized shaft and a shiny purple tip, for a moment I noticed the light reflecting on the tip of his cock, just like it had reflected off the apples.
Davy was moaning now, moaning as if he like it, as if he was getting more and more aroused.
‘Why... who are you? Roger?’ He was mumbling against my hand. I guess I got scared about him saying my name, so I grabbed the towel of chloroform and pressed it into his face once more.
‘Stop it.’ He said. He started struggling. ‘Not again. Stop that Roger, get off of me.’ I held him tightly, no matter how he struggled he couldn’t get away from me or the chloroform and soon I noticed his body becoming more limp and more heavy against mine.
‘It’s okay.’ I said. ‘Just relax. Just enjoy it.’ I didn’t want to knock him out completely, because I didn’t know whether his stiff cock would become flaccid again, so when he stopped fuzzing and moving I removed the towel. His eyes were glassy staring at me, glassy staring into nothingness. My hand moving up and down his shaft and he let out a satisfied moan.
‘Good boy.’ I said happy. For a while I kept on giving him a hand job, trying to force more moans out of his mouth, more satisfied grumbles. Those were primal sounds, vulnerable sounds, his mind was almost turned off. Those moans and grumbles where his body reacting to my body, to my touches.
I needed more. I wanted more. I wanted to taste him. Tenderly I guided his limp sedated body onto the ground. I even took off my jacked and used it as a pillow beneath his head, then I knelt in between his legs and I took his hard cock into my mouth. I felt the ridges of the tip gliding past my tongue and the roof of my mouth and I closed my lips around the cock, gliding back and forth, moving my face up and down. My nose snuggling up against the cute curly pubes. It was itchy and I almost had to sneeze.
I moved my hand to cup his balls, softly moving my thumb around the tender skin. He was moaning, his hips twitching. He was coughing and rubbing his eyes again, but he was also still moaning and growling in pleasure. Almost as if my blow job was as intoxicating as being drugged with chloroform.
I moved my fingertip around his asshole and he started panting and moaning even more as I softly stroke his anus. Then I slipped my finger inside. It was so tight, his asshole clenched around my finger, and the tip of my finger started throbbing in the rhythm of my heart beat.
He rubbed his eyes again and briefly he lifted his head up and looked around. ‘Where are we?’ He speech was still slurred. ‘What’s happening? Who are you? I...’ He moaned as I flicked my tongue around his cock. I didn’t answer, I just kept on blowing him while fingering his asshole. He grabbed his head with his hand and laid back down on the jacket. ‘Fuck it.’ He said. ‘I’m not complaining.’
He spread his legs and pressed his cock even deeper into my mouth, even more frantically I moved my head up and down, I wriggled my finger around in his ass and he was moaning louder and louder.
‘Sshhh.’ I said. ‘Try to be quiet.’
He didn’t listen and I didn’t stop blowing him. As his moaning became louder, I became more and more frightened we would be discovered. Some janitor would barge in to close down the building, or maybe they would close down the building with us still in it. Yet I didn’t want to stop, I wanted to be here with him, even if that meant spending the night on the floor of our art class. His hips started rocking and he laid his hand on top of my head.
‘Steady baby steady.’ He said while guiding my rhythm, while pushing me over his cock. His back arched, his breathing stopped for a moment and then all the tension was released. He let out a scream, his six pack convulsing and a big drizzle of cum was released into my mouth. I felt his cock twitching between my lips and against my tongue. He was moaning loudly, too loudly.
‘Sshhh.’ I hushed him. ‘It’s okay. Sshhh. Good boy. Be quiet now.’
He chuckled and lazily laid back down. ‘Yeah. No.’ He said. ‘It doesn’t work like that, you can’t bring me to orgasm and then urge me to be quiet, that’s just... quiet and orgasm are simply incompatible.’ He slammed his hands together. ‘Get it?’
He lazily laid back down and pushed his hand against his cock.
‘Let’s go.’ I said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Davy didn’t feel that same sense of urgency. He was just smiling up at the ceiling, his head rolling around from side to side and now and again he left out a little moan while his body shivered, as if it was some sort of after twitch of his orgasm.
I was looking down on him, completely enamored by his image, by his existence, but also increasingly uneasy about being in the classroom still. I grabbed his boxer and tried to dress him, and despite him appearing wide awake, with twinkling blue eyes, his legs were still kind of heavy and limp and he lazily allowed me to dress him.
‘My pants is on backwards.’ He said after I’d hoisted the colorful harem pants over his hips again.
‘It’ll do for now.’ I said. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up, when he was upright he reached for his head and stumbled. He held onto my arm for balance.
‘Wow.’ I said. ‘I’m still... wow... that’s not good.’
‘Come on.’ I said. I grabbed his bag and mine and then I supported him as we walked out of the building. My heart was pounding and I was terribly scared of running into someone, but the building seemed abandoned. We reached the elevator with no problems and took it down into the parking garage.
‘I can’t drive like this.’ Davy said. ‘That would be irresponsible.’
‘I’ll take you home.’ I said.
I slumped him into the passenger seat and then I drove off.
‘Wait are you taking me to your home or mine.’
‘Yours.’ I said. ‘I’m married.’
‘You naughty daddy.’ Davy reached out and playfully boobed my nose.
‘I don’t have kids.’
Davy started laughing. ‘Right.’ He said. ‘But in the gay scene you would definitely be considered the daddy type. Calling me a good boy and all.’ For a moment it was quiet. ‘Aren’t you suppose to tell me you aren’t gay, and that you’re married and that this was a mistake that won’t happen again.’
I shrugged. ‘I’m gay.’ I said. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m gay, or at least bisexual, although...women... well.’ I shrugged again.
‘Okay.’ Davy said. ‘Turn left here and then go right on Main.’ For a moment it was quiet. ‘Anyway that’s for you to figure out, I’ve got nothing to do with that.’
‘Yeah.’ I said nodding.
‘But since you drugged me without my permission, it seems only fair that me and my boyfriend get to do the same to you, doesn’t it?’
There was a nervous tingle in my tummy, I started blushing and I nodded, maybe a tad too willingly. ‘Sounds fair.’ I tried saying as nonchalantly as I could.
‘So don’t drink any drinks I buy you.’ His fingers were wriggling through the air as if he was telling a ghost story. ‘For their might be a roofie in it. Or maybe I’ll force you to inhale some poppers and then I’ll fuck you from behind. We’ll figure something out. At the next traffic lights right again, and there’s my apartment building.’ Davy said.
I stopped in front of the building he pointed out and I was kind of sad as he grabbed his bag and got out of the car. ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked before he could close the car door behind him.
‘Significantly less drugged and hazy,’ he said, ‘but still a bit dizzy and lightheaded.’
‘I’m dizzy too.’ I said.
‘Yeah right, dizzy with love.’ He said teasingly. If only he knew how right he was about that. ‘Take it easy daddy.’ He winked at me. ‘And be careful about accepting drinks from strangers sweetheart, for you never know.’
He slammed the door shut and I looked as his slender body hurried up the stairs and opened the door. He didn’t even look around to wave, the door slammed shut and he was gone. I was left lonely and alone in my car.
This story was taken from one these sites, check them out to find more sex stories:
https://www.pathfinder-fr.org/Forum/posts/m759770-Bonjour#post759770
https://www.pathofexile.com/forum/view-thread/3437232
https://www.pbnation.com/showthread.php?p=100473759#post100473759