Copyright © 2006 Sticky Pen

It wasn’t until the third day on the job that I visited this out of the way bathroom in the rear side of the building. As an employee of one of the city’s elite temporary job agencies, I had been in most of the office buildings in the small downtown area. There was the 15 story bank building with the YMCA on the first, second, third and fourth floors where I spent 3 weeks shredding 30-year-old payroll stubs. And then across street was the Johnston Building in which I was tortured while performing data entry gig for 2 months. My hands felt like jello at the finish of each day, but at the end of the stint, I was proficient at both 10-key and dodging management as I took smoke breaks in the back alley. They ended up calling me “Break Away Billy” after all the breaks I seemed to make.
This new building proved to be an interesting assignment though. I was the only temp in the building and was directed to sign visitors in and out of the building. Nothing else was expected of me, or so I thought. As a 23-year-old college drop-out, I pretty much was living from pay check to pay check, spending most of my money on cigarettes and beer. Luckily the beer never gave me a belly, and I was as slim as ever. The few times I actually had money to go out to the clubs, I would end up buying a guy some of the cheapest drinks available… but only enough to coax him into my bed later. I hadn’t a care in the world! During the day I would be a door man of sorts, and by night I would be drinking and watching out for hot guys to fuck.
On the first day of work, I was directed by Tom, my supervisor, to simply sign in visitors and call up the person they were to meet. All the regular 20 some odd employees had ID badges already, so I didn’t have to worry about knowing who was supposed to be in the building and who wasn’t. Tom placed me at the front desk, with a clipboard for visitors to sign, and a computer with internet access. He said that since I was a temp, I could peruse around online between visitors. For lunch, I would be relieved for about an hour by a regular employee, and then I would go back to surfing the web and signing in guests. My days of boring data entry and lifeless shredding were now in past. I was keen on this new job and hoped that it wouldn’t end.
The first day of work came and went with a mere 5 visitors coming into the building, 4 men and 1 woman. The rest of the day was spent with me listening to music online and chatting with friends. On the second day, Tom showed me around the building and introduced me to a few people. I took note of Trevor, a slim yet built man working in the mail room. His brown eyes and tanned skin caught my immediate attention. I quickly wondered what was under that casual business attire hiding his body. When Tom introduced us, I didn’t get a gay vibe so I shrugged him off as eye candy. Good thing I was at the front door so I could watch him come and go! Later on the tour, Tom showed me Jackson, a 40-something salesman that talked a mile a minute about absolutely nothing. Jackson had been the year’s top salesperson (as noted by a plaque on his office wall), but it was his son pictured on his desk that caught my eye. I assumed Jackson’s son was a little younger than me, and he was fucking hot! I could determine from looking at the desk photo he was an athletic guy, not a lazy ass like me. In the photo, Jackson was holding up a fish I assumed the two of them had caught at one of the nearby lakes. His son was shirtless, tan, and ripped. More eye candy.
By the end of the short tour, I still barely knew what these men and women were selling or making. Once I thought I heard something about designer gifts, but I wasn’t sure. And honestly, I didn’t care. I didn’t plan on staying with the company. They could sell enemas or butt plugs for all I cared. Actually, that kind of product line would have made this place a little interesting. For now it was just another non-descript office in downtown.
When the third day rolled around, I wanted to take a nice long walk for my lunch break, but rain outside put a hamper on that idea. Instead, after my replacement took a seat in my chair I decided to walk around the building and see if I could spot any more hot men. I saw a few sex gods sitting at their desks and chatting on their phones or with each other, but none I had met before. The urge to piss finally directed me to the nearest restroom, in the rear of the building next to the warehouse. As I went to open the door, a cute young man I had not seen before walked out and almost ran into me. I quickly excused myself walked into the bathroom.
There was nothing special about the bathroom. There were some sinks to the left, and three urinals and three stalls on the right. I stepped up to the urinal closest to the stalls and whipped out my cock to its final relief. As I was spraying the blue biscuit, the door opened. I looked over my right shoulder and noticed Trevor, the mail clerk enter the restroom and make a beeline to the last stall. He didn’t make eye contact or anything, so I didn’t think anything was abnormal. Some guys just don’t like to chit-chat while in the men’s room.
I finished up, shoved my dick back into my briefs, and zipped up my slacks. I made my way to the sink to wash up. From the mirrors, I could see Trevor’s shoes and slacks crumpled on the floor around his ankles as he sat on the toilet. I took off my watch so it wouldn’t get wet and stood there a moment washing my hands. I finished up washing and dried my hands under the automatic blow dryer. I figured it was time to head out, so I walked to the door and opened it fully before I realized I forgot my watch at the sink. I let the door close, but as soon as I did I heard the sound of metal rubbing in the bathroom. I was curious where it was coming from, so I silently crept back to the sinks.
From the reflection in the mirror, I could see Trevor’s shoes under the stall clearly turn and point towards the outer wall of the bathroom. At first I assumed he was finished was about to pull up his pants, but they remained pushed down to the floor. I could only see from his lower calf down to the floor, but I could plainly view his feet shuffle closer and closer to the wall until his toes were pressing against the based board. His calves began to sway back and forth, as if he was fucking the wall for some reason. I crept forward and knelt down to get a better view, but I could only get close enough to see his lower thighs bucking the wall. It was strange sight and I was mesmerized and curious as to why he would be humping the wall!
Without warning, the door opened. I bolted upright and pretended to be finishing tying my laces. I looked up and noticed my supervisor Tom step up to the middle urinal. He glanced back and told me I needed to get back to my desk to relieve my lunch time replacement. I reluctantly complied, but not before I was able to catch a glimpse of Trevor’s shoes firmly placed back in front of the toilet as normal. Tom’s presence had betrayed my attempt at voyeurism, and Trevor must have known I was still in the bathroom while he rubbed his body against the wall… or fucked it… or whatever the fuck the was doing in there.
I didn’t see Trevor the rest of that day because I ended up leaving the office before he did. The next day, I patiently waited for his arrival at the front desk. I was anxious to get over the awkward glance I was sure to receive from Trevor because I was partly embarrassed, but more aroused than anything. Around 9:30 Trevor waltzed into the office, but I didn’t get so much as a nod from him. Maybe he didn’t know I was in the bathroom after all!
A few minutes later, my intranet messaging service popped up in the screen:

TREVOR: Fucking perv!

I was frozen. He DID know that I was in the bathroom yesterday. I didn’t know how to respond, but he beat me to the next IM.

TREVOR: I saw you peaking under the stall you fuck wad! I should report you to the Human Resources Department!

I was still frozen, yet my dick began to harden at the thought of him rubbing the wall the day before.

TREVOR: I know you are there asshole. I see you online you fucking idiot!

I finally got the courage to respond.

BILLY: I’m sorry. I forgot my watch in the bathroom and came back for it. Then I had to tie my laces. I didn’t mean to peak
TREVOR: Fuck that shit! I know you were trying to catch a glimpse! So unless you want me to report you, I suggest you meet me in the warehouse at 12:30 sharp! Got it fucker?!
BILLY: No man. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to look…
TREVOR: Yeah. Nice try Billy. Tom saw you when he walked in. He just didn’t know I was in the stall. It wouldn’t take much for me to tell him and HR. Then your ass would be out of here and that nice cushy temp job!

I had to consider it. If he beat me up, I could report him. But I had to see what was up. I couldn’t afford to lose this job with the temp agency. It was hard enough making ends meet as it was.

TREVOR: 12:30. Be in the warehouse or else!
BILLY: Fine. I will be there. And I am saving this IM so, you can’t bribe me again asshole!
TREVOR: Funny. My best friend works in IT. Good luck in saving it…. LOL. Later fucking perv!

With that he signed off and his buddy icon when dark. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. I was truly fucked if I didn’t comply. If I just walked out, he could still file a report with HR, and that would get back to the temp agency. But I couldn’t print out or save the IM in order to use it as evidence he was trying to get me in trouble.
The next three hours went by excruciatingly slow. Only one visitor popped into the office, and I didn’t …

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Copyright © 2006 Sticky Pen

It feels weird writing down a true story as opposed to the fictional stories I’ve written. Then again, all fiction is fused with some truth, so maybe this won’t be all that different. Ok, so rather than write about my first time, I thought I would write about one of the best sexual experiences I’ve ever had.
It happened shortly after high school graduation. I had just turned eighteen and I thought I could conquer the world. I was so ready to get out of my sleepy hometown and off to university to study art and design. I was single, attractive, and young with a little over two months of absolutely nothing planned. That should have been my first sign that it would be an interesting summer.
The first few weeks went by uneventful. I hung out with friends, went to movies, shopped, and did all the regular teenage things, which quickly got boring. I was restless for some fun and action. A few months back I had gotten a taste of my first sexual experience with a man when I was in NYC visiting relatives and I was itching to do some more experimenting. However, not really being out at the time and living in a tiny town, that was hard to do. That’s when I found myself cruising the local chat rooms on the web.
The Internet opened up a whole new world for me, especially after I put a picture on my profile. I was getting plenty of invites to do all those not so nice things I was longing to do. I met quite a few of the guys for lunch or coffee to see if we hit it off and, with a few of them it was nice, but they were all just brief encounters, at least until I met Eugene. From the moment I met him I knew he would be different from all the other brief affairs I had encountered. For one thing, he was seventeen years older than me, although he did not look it at all. He was a music director for one of the largest churches in town and I thought that was so risqué. He was charming, smart, elegant, and knew just the right things to say to make me feel like I was the only person in the world.
We met for lunch at the only gay friendly restaurant in town. I had never been so he insisted on taking me there. I met him a little after noon. I can still remember it vividly; he had on a tight black shirt, a pair of crisp khakis, and black sandals, not at all what I expected a man of the church to wear. My first impression of him was that he was attractive, but it wasn’t until we sat down that I fell head over heels for him. He was such an engaging guy. The way he would look at me and smile made me feel warm and tingly inside. I was also surprised how easy it was talking to him and how flirtatious I could become under the right situation. After lunch, he told me how he wished the end of lunch hadn’t come so soon. I melted right then and there. I didn’t want the date to end either and told him so. He suggested I follow him back to his place, which wasn’t too far away. I didn’t even hesitate, he paid the bill and we were on our way.
I followed closely behind him, scared that he would change his mind and loose me in the busy after lunch traffic. But true to his word, he lived only a few miles away. As I pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition, my heart started beating faster and faster. I couldn’t believe what was about to happen. This guy was way out of my league and he wanted me.
Inside his house, the first thing he did was give me a brief tour. He had a beautiful home and when we were done with the tour we sat down on his couch and he put on some music. After a little idle chatter, he took my hand in his. He commented on how nice my hands were and I did the same. I was so nervous and scared I didn’t dare make a move, fortunately, he was more than experienced with nervous boys. He turned to look at me and lightly kissed me on the cheek. From such a small gesture, I got an instant erection. I turned my head towards his and we started making out. It was nice and slow at first, but soon we were a blurr of hands and mouths. He climbed on top of me, wrapping h…

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Copyright © 2006 Sticky Pen

We’d met in passing on a porn Web site and had given each other a couple of satisfying private chat cyber fucks. Without openly asking for it, he increasingly pushed our cyber play to the kinky and S&M. His site moniker was Bigboy and mine was Viper, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that he turned on to bottom and domination, which was just fine with me. I could also tell that he was very curious, if a little shy and hesitant. Chances were good he’d never gone beyond the cyber but was drawn like a moth to the whole concept of what we were cybering.
His site profile was scanty—an artist in California, claiming to be bi—but the location opened up a wealth of possibilities for me.
[Viper] Located in California, bb? North, South, Central?
[Bigboy] Central.
[Viper] Ah, profile says u’re an artist. frisco then?
[Bigboy] No, farther south. even more artsy. Coast.
[Viper] must be monterey then.
(Pause)
[Viper] santa cruz myself.
(Pause)
[Bigboy] Interesting.
[Viper] yes, interesting. interested, yes?
(Pause)
[Viper] u’ve said u wanted to see my basement room.
(Pause for three minutes, and Bigboy signed off chat)
Three days later I was cruising the chat room and he invited me for a private chat. I was beginning to think he wouldn’t contact me again, but all the time the moth was fluttering around my light.
[Bigboy] Maybe. But here in Monterey. Out on the pier.
[Viper] no. must be something u want. u have to come to me in santa cruz.
He signed off again then, and I didn’t enter the chat room at all the next evening. Toward midnight, he IMed me, eagerly agreeing to come to Santa Cruz that weekend. I put him off, telling him I couldn’t make it until the following weekend, although I didn’t really have anything else to do. Just stringing him out; giving him line to either slither away or hook himself. He agreed to meet, and I picked out a gay biker’s bar in the rough part of town, telling him what the bar was, giving him plenty of room to cut and run.
On the designated night, I tricked myself out in my leathers and black net muscle shirt that stopped short of my belly button, showing off my abs real well, and biked my Harley over to the bar. Chances were that he wouldn’t show, but I’d have me a fine evening anyway.
Surprise, surprise, though. He showed. I easily picked up on him when he entered. Nice looking; good, trim, muscled bod, but nervous as hell. He saw me when I waved at him, and I saw his eyes get all big. I didn’t think he was dissatisfied, just hyperventilating at the whole concept.
He came over and sat, and after establishing we were who we thought we were, we tried some small talk. From time to time, he looked like he wanted to bolt for it, and each time I asked him if he wanted to leave alone, but he set his jaw and said no. He told me that his life had become just so boring in the sex department and he needed to give it a jolt start. I told him I could do that—and he had no idea how close to reality my plans were to do that—but that where we could go from here wasn’t going to be for the fainthearted. He swallowed hard and asked me if I was going to show him my basement. I told him, no, not this time—and his body seemed to deflate as if he’d worked himself up for nothing. But I went on to say that I thought he might like to see my garage instead tonight. Asked him if doing it tied up and on my Harley appealed to him, and I felt his thigh tremble under my hand.
Out in the parking lot, he climbed onto the bike behind me. When we started off, he was sitting well behind me and having a hard time figuring out where to put his hands, but I upped my speed and his pelvis was soon plastered tight against mine and he had to wrap his arms around my bare, steely midsection to keep from flying off the bike. I could tell he was excited by what I could feel snaking up the small of my back and getting harder as it rubbed up against me.
We sped through the town and back out into a more disserted area in the dust- and sagebrush-covered hills and pulled up short in front of the large corrugated, isolated garage building I kept to work on my cars and bikes. I zapped the high entry door open, and then zapped it closed again when we had driven into the building. The same zapping turned on the industrial-strength lights hanging from the rafters well above our heads. I ran the cycle right up to a clearing in the middle, under some gymnastic arm rings suspended from an overhead beam. I stopped the bike there and kicked down the kick stand as I hopped off. Bigboy, who I had learned was really named Roy—or at least had chosen for me to know him by this name—sat on the cycle, scoping out the surroundings in the brightly lit garage, as I went over to the side and picked up a pile of leather material and tossed it at him.
“Here. Strip and put these on,” I directed, using a voice of authority both to keep him focused and because I had discerned that was what he wanted from me.
He stripped, and I was pleased to see that he had gotten the Web moniker “Bigboy” honestly. His new costume was composed of a leather harness crisscrossing his chest, leather chaps, leather boots, and thick leather wristbands lined with fleece. No pants. He seemed pleased with the outfit, and his cock was rising to attention, clearly anticipating having a good time.
“Come over here and get back on the cycle; turned facing the back, your back on the handlebars,” I commanded.
When he’d done that, and after showing him what I was holding in my hands and giving him an opportunity to object, which he didn’t do, I quickly attached a long chain to his right wristband, threw the chain through one of the gymnast rings overhead, and attached the other end to his left wristband. There was some give in the chain, but he couldn’t bring his hands and arms to in front of him now. I then attached shorter chains through rings in the ankles of his boots to something in the wheel of the motorcycle on either side. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while, now.
He watched me, all wide eyed, as I then stripped my own pants and muscle shirt off, and stood there only in my leather boots—and those busy tattoos and all those metal rings piercing my body, including the big, thick silver ring in the head of my penis. I already had quite a hard on, one to rival what he was showing me. His cock was something to whistle at, but I was bigger and thicker than he was. I could see that he was panting at the sight of me. Starting to sweat, and his well-muscled pecs were twitching….

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I was feeling quite horny and knew it wouldn’t be long before I was hungry too, and I didn’t expect another check for two days, so I decided to saunter on over to that county park near the campus that had a lot of out-of-the way parking places and was known in my circles as a pickup spot. With luck I’d pick me up a short-term sugar daddy with munch and lunch on his mind. I was sitting there on a picnic table near the entrance, contemplating the condition of my fingernails, when a big yellow blur whooshed past me and turned off into a wooded area, well away from the main picnic section.
I didn’t think much of that for a couple of minutes, until I heard a somewhat irritated voice wafting from over that direction.
“Well, are you here for something special, or are you just wasting the day away? If the first, get your little ass over here.”
I unfolded myself from the picnic table and strolled through the fringe of trees to the small parking area. When I got to the clearing, I saw a hippie-type guy leaning up against an old yellow Cadillac convertible. He had a craggy face that looked somewhat familiar, except the dark sunglasses hid quite a bit. He had a light beard and mustache and long silky dirty blond hair that reached below his shoulders. He was wearing a T-shirt with his own face and some writing on the front, and there was a guitar case in his backseat. And then it dawned on me. This was a guitarist from a local band that had gone national and still had tunes on the charts. At least that boded well for a free meal possibility.
I stood there and looked at him, and he sat up against his car and looked me up and down, and I didn’t quite know what to say.
“Well, up close, I like what I see,” he said in a twangy voice. “So, do you want to come around and get in, and I’ll give you a ride?”
“A ride?” I asked lamely.
“Yes, a ride.” And then he snickered and added, “I’ll even let you ride in my car.”
“Why do we need to ride anywhere? We can just do it here, can’t we?” I asked.
“This park’s too well known. I know where there’s another one nearby that’s safer.”
“OK, why not,” I answered. I bleakly walked around and we both got into his car, and he pulled out of the parking area.
“Drag?” he said, as he offered what obviously was more than a cigarette to me. I politely declined the offer.
“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long. Gotta gig myself, but I like, you know, like to get off before I go on stage. And after too, for that matter,” and he gave another little laugh. I don’t know how high he was already, but I kept very quiet so he could concentrate on his driving.
“Do this often?” he asked, as we drove out into the countryside?
“No. No, I don’t,” I answered.
“Sweet.”
He pulled into another, larger county park and drove into the far end of a secluded parking lot and turned around and backed his Cadillac up to the edge of a little dell.
“Get on out, and come around to the trunk,” he said, as he opened his door, got out, stripped his jeans and briefs off, and threw them in the back seat beside the guitar case. We both walked around to the trunk of the car. He got me between him and the trunk and turned me so that I was facing him.
“Take off the shirt.” I did as he asked, and he ran his hands around my torso.
“Nice,” he said, as he took the joint out of his mouth and offered it to me again. I declined once again.
“Oh, well, your loss.” Then he unbuckled my belt, unfastened my jeans, pulled down my zipper and took my jeans and briefs down and off my legs.
“Oh my, yes; nice, very nice indeed. Lean back on the trunk, please.” I did so, and he asked me to hold his smoldering joint and started tonguing my chest and nipples, his silky hair swishing over my torso in a not-unpleasant sensation. He worked his way down to my cock and balls and then pushed my legs up into my chest with both hands and started tonguing my asshole. After a while, he stood, and without releasing my legs, spread them wide, walked his pelvis into mine, plugged his hardened, but not particularly large, rod into my asshole, and started a slow pumping movement.
After a while, he asked for the joint back and puffed on that while he worked my ass. He had one of those cocks that started off unimpressive but lengthened and thickened nicely with the proper attention. He came inside me and then slurped his cock out and me and instructed me to put my clothes back on as he walked around to the driver’s side. He asked me where I had been going and he dropped me off right at my dorm. Before I got out of the car, though, he put his hand on my arm.
“Here’s a twenty for the trick. Best fuck I’ve had in a week. Thanks a lot.” And then he handed me a ticket, which had a red band on the side. “Here’s a ticket to my concert here Saturday night. The red band on it will get you into the party afterward. Hope to see you there.” And then he just drove off and left me there on the curb.
The twenty saved me from writing home for a quick bridge to my next regular check, and come Saturday, I ran across the ticket to that crazy guy’s concert, so I thought why the hell not check out that …

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Copyright © 2006 Sticky Pen

My first glory hole experience happened when I was 22 and attending college at the University of New Mexico back in 1997. I had transferred into the school from the Midwest and was majoring in architecture at the time. In order to complete my major, I had to take numerous art classes in the Art Building. The classes were always early in the morning, so I usually went to the bathroom before class and never had to go in that building. Later in the semester, I was working on a project in the building and had to use the restroom. I entered the small room and there were sinks to the right and three urinals and two stall to the left. I customarily entered the last stall which was a handicap stall with rails along the sides. Soon after sitting down, I noticed toilet-paper plugging up a hole in the wall. I removed the paper and discovered a small opening to the opposite stall. I was about to re-plug the hole when someone walked into the restroom, opened the neighboring stall door, and sat down. I was scared out of my wits. The hole was at just the right height and angle that I could peer into his stall without him ever noticing my head turned. I stared through the hole for a good five minutes in awe. I could see his thighs and limp cock only a few feet from my face. Soon though, he reached down and began to massage h…

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