(“This is an attempt to get the punctuation to transfer correctly through the submission process. I promptly sent an email with attachment to xnxx for editing, but they have not resolved the punctuation issue. Quotations and apostrophes are falsely represented as question marks. Anyone that read the entire first submission, regardless of their opinion earned my respect. I could not stand to read it and was extremely upset.
Hoping this is a fix,” Pavilon.)


CHAPTER 1

I grew up in a small city in the Midwest. I finished school and found a couple jobs while I lived at home. I contributed little to things at home with my dad and step-mother. I was falling quickly out of favor. It was becoming time to leave the nest, I was given the impression that my step mom thought I was taking resources away from my blooming step sister. Now compounded with my age and the number of hours I worked, well it hurt the relationship with them. It was when I began working the graveyard shift that things fell apart. They didn’t understand that I needed to sleep during the day.

However they felt about my moving out, I am unsure. They were both at work when I did. I moved out with actually very little. It took only one trip with my beater sedan to relocate to a larger city a half-hour away. I had a friend help me haul a super single waterbed with his pickup.

I had rented an unfurnished one bed room apartment near the downtown area. I spent most of my money on rent, insurance, food, gas and utilities. I held onto two jobs for awhile so I could pick up some extra furnishings. I was now free to pick up after myself.

Sometime later I landed a promotion at my second job as the gas station weekend Manager. I gradually left my first job despite wanting to save up money for further schooling. I decided that I wanted a break from working and wasn’t yet ready for higher education.

Although my money situation wasn’t what I would have wanted. I was making enough to fuel an inexpensive indoor hobby since it was winter. I had an older computer; I inherited from my folks. I started to spend more time on the Internet and several weeks disappeared. I had developed an interest in erotic animae and nude pictures. I even obtained a slave drive at little expense to hold my library.

What I really yearned for was a relationship with a nice girl. Of course an attractive and sexually active girl. But seeing how I was not experienced with girls by any means. The overall pursuit bore no fruit. I struggled with talking with them and meeting them. Compound that with being insecure and intimidated easily by attractive women. Well it spells virgin.

Needless to say I had always enjoyed an active sex life with myself. I had developed intricate sexual fantasies to satisfy myself. The Internet and tasty nude pictures fueled these fantasies. I spent days in bed with myself or at the computer searching for new material.

The romance scene was still in a state of stagnation after a few months. I was afraid to initiate any relationship with the girls that worked for me. For fear of losing my good job that now encompassed being responsible for two gas stations on the weekends. I had several girls working for me that I drooled over, but I towed the line and kept things all business. My constant masturbation was probably my salvation in many retrospects.

I found myself getting nervously excited about the prospects of slipping into one of the several porno shops I frequently drove past. The same old sites on the Internet were beginning to fail my growing appetite.

That is when I was presented with an odd opportunity that changed things. I had gone down the back way from my apartment to get the mail from my box when I spied some huge black bags near the trash dumpster. I noticed female under garments poking through one of them as people jumped in a truck. I paused and watched the truck pull away.

I went to the next landing and looked down the hall and observed it was empty. I immediately concluded that someone was in the process of moving into the ground floor. I walked into the back parking lot over to the dumpster. I knew that I would hear anyone coming down the alley or approach from down the hallway. I didn’t believe the bags were meant to be thrown away, but I could be wrong. But they hadn’t been hauled in yet by someone still inside the building or were missed somehow. All three bags were stuffed with clothes, but only one was packed with undergarments.

I don’t know why I did it. But I quickly tossed through that bag until I found several pairs of panties that caught my eye. My heart was pounding as I stuffed them under my arm and went straight back to my room. I was delighted in my trophies and spent a great deal of time examining each as I sat on the floor in my apartment.

Each filled me with a certain dangerous excitement and I was lost for sometime scrutinizing them. The materials were all different and I learned what I liked quickly. The polyester one felt slick and I did initially lie on them during masturbation. But it was only a matter of time until I tried them on. So I guess I was curious. This left me wondering if my sexual desires were not already obsessive or compulsive. I got a good look at myself in the mirror with each one on. I had unwittingly grabbed different styles to my enjoyment. I had taken a blue cotton bikini cut pair, pink patterned silk string bikini cut pair, red cotton bikini thong, greenish flannel thong and a flower patterned polyester string bikini thong.

Needless to say they entertained me for months into the spring thaw. The cotton pairs stretched out and became ruined while the silk tore at the stitching. The flannel pair began to look rough as the polyester pair held up well. This pleased me as I found it the most erotic. My sexual fantasies had evolved to bondage in nature with the stimulus I was getting from the erotic animae. Now it was focused on the female form. I caressed the panty strings and delighted in the feel of the material while wearing them. This was heightened by the visual stimuli of good porn.

Before long the spring melt was almost done and the rains were swelling riverbanks and causing flash flood warnings. The ground may have still been frozen but my bed was hot. I was starting to use props in my jerking and looked forward to the good sessions after I worked a few 16-hour days. My responsibilities kept my weekends a flurry of hurried madness. By Sunday night I was a real randy boy. I even tried to jerk a couple times at work in the bathroom to relieve myself. All I really managed was to tease myself into near mania.

Late Sunday nights after work, I took long soothing baths to ease my groin ache if I had broken down and frustrated myself at work. A shower after I was already in a frustrated state would lead only to doubling me over in pain. I would suffer blue balls and a lackluster orgasm later after my pipes started to work right again. I couldn’t shower because I lacked the willpower to not lather my crotch and massage my own over excited member. While my left hand kneaded my shaft slowly upward while the right hand would caress my ass cheeks before slathering foamy soap throughout my crack.

Eventually my right index finger would begin teasing my anal opening. This is usually about the time I would open my left hand and move the open palm in circular fashion against my very tip. Couple that overwhelming sensation with my right index finger plunging back and forth into my anal cavity and I would tremble along my legs. I never was able to cum in the shower like that but it was definitely a delight. I would grab some prop be it some panties, rope or ribbon. Then I could cook off a powerful spew in five minutes that would pulse out in a few healthy bursts and continue to dribble for a good minute or so.

Although if I did manage to have a bath. I could get out and arrange a nice little jerk party with multiple props. I would lay on my back and begin with light caresses. I would immerse my mind into my latest sexual fantasy that was tripping my trigger. These fantasies evolved with time and even during my acts of self-indulgence. The caressing would work slowly into the more sensitive areas and provided a controllable slow building of pressure. I could bring myself to the brink two to four times before I lost my cum. This lazy jerk method lasted a half-hour to an hour and a half. The only draw back to this method is it usually meant my tip wetted with constant pre-cum. Which sometimes made a small mess.

Regardless how I started in bed on Sunday night, I had three to seven orgasms. I would sleep in on Mondays and get a pleasant jerk before getting up to piss foam. I frequently enjoyed another orgasm or two before lunch. Monday nights would be my most productive time while my satisfied sex drive recovered.

I had no doubts that my masturbation comprised my main hobby. I did rent occasional movies and read a few books. I had started renting the animae movies and the limited sexual content burst my nuts. I could easily force a jerk long after I was shooting blanks. The prospects of watching an animae could arouse me days in advance. I came by an erotic animae catalog and began to crave any Erotic Horror film. All the best animae pictures off the Internet came from such films. I came by the idea to visit a porn shop in search of just such a video.

Well that idea excited me and caused me a great deal of arousal. But it would be several months before building up the nerve to follow through with it. It was a rainy Sunday night. I was working the front at one of the stations and I had to do transactions for numerous well-endowed girls wearing wet tops. I needed something to help me find some calm in a seething rage of frustration. I stopped at a porn shop with a rear access. I strolled across the back lot through puddles of water and my heart was thumping the whole way. I almost lost my nerve at the back door, but entered.

The interior was dark and without windows. The strangest assortment of literature and movies flooded my senses. I felt frantic to be out of there and I could hear my heart beating in my chest. I was pleased there was only three other patrons in the place. I realized the cashier was giving me a close eye because of my age.

I looked away from the sex toy displays and was not at all comfortable with them. I found the lesbian literature tantalizing to my eyes. I had to just study the selections to spot a few quality items to my standards. I selected one before moving on to my ultimate goal of an Erotic Animae Horror film. I scanned the narrow aisles of racks as if I was on a holy quest. I encountered another patron as he pulled a movie from the rack. I couldn’t help but notice it was a gay bondage film. I felt like I was going to die as our eyes met and we had to move around each other in the narrow aisle.

I looked back at him as he turned and walked away. He was in his forties with ruddy skin. He was probably a couple inches short of six feet. He was definitely a little overweight and might have weighed about 210 lbs. He was dressed as if he were a construction worker complete with heavy boots. He looked back at me and I thought I was going to gag with revulsion. This man was truly creepy and ugly looking, he sent shivers down my back. I turned away quickly and almost fled down the aisle. I continued my exhaustive but fruitless search.

I wandered the store a little more. I was forced to face the fact this little sleazy hole of a shop didn’t have what I truly wanted. I scanned the animae section over again for about the fourth time. I found none of the extreme hard core I wanted.

I suddenly felt odd and for some strange reason looked to my right to see another man staring at me. This guy seemed to be in his early twenties with greased up hair. He had a swishy way about him that screamed fag. I swore he looked up from my ass to smile at me. I lost my nerve and couldn’t stand the place anymore.

I approached the counter and paid for my magazine. The clerk asked for my identification and just smiled before asking, “Find everything alright?” I mentioned one of the tittles I sought and he regretted that those particular films never stayed in stock. I very happily left with the brown paper bagged magazine.

That night I really enjoyed my new magazine and fantasized I was one of the lesbians in the pictures. The new magazine entertained me for weeks. I felt robbed being born the wrong sex and not being able to enjoy fucking a woman’s body with a woman’s body. Women could always find someone to satisfy their needs and it was an unmistakable trick of fate.

My whole attention then focused on a frequent female client, who I liked. It took a couple weeks but I asked her out on a whim that even surprised me. She turned me down very awkwardly. I felt devastated.

That’s when I found myself a few weekends later taking a break in the back office reading the personals. I was desperate and without hope. Spring was beginning and I was suffering spring fever. I was definitely feeling squirrely. The personals were not helping. I found only a few ads interested in a single white male in my age group. I knew I lacked the initiative or guts to answer an ad and risk rejection. It seemed that only gays were really interested in young men for, “Boy toy,” as one ad put it.

My sexual fantasies had grown old and stale. I needed some other stimulus to fill the void. I found myself jerking just to jerk. My eyes began to linger on older woman but my mouth interfered. I couldn’t fathom a woman with kids almost my own age. Fat chicks were a considered possibility, but I couldn’t jerk to the prospects of one. I had truly found my own mental saltpeter by just imagining a 300-lb sow slathering herself on my face. I had also concluded that fat woman always wore excessive perfume to cover up the stench of their inability to exercise proper hygiene. Despite all this I was still tempted.

One weekend I was helping up front at the registers. My counterpart at work accepted a check from someone I could not place. I felt I had met the person before. I took down the guy’s plate number, pump and total sale on a separate sheet of paper. I placed this in my pocket after writing the transaction time down also. I racked my brain for about five minutes before my full attention was needed elsewhere.

Later I was straightening up an aisle when I remembered from where I knew the guy. He was the ugly guy from the porn shop. My heart caught in my chest and I laughed. I was eager to cash out the drawers and do receipts. That night I put a name, address, and date of birth to the face. I wrote all that information down on a scrap piece of paper and left it in my desk drawer at work.

About midweek I considered sneaking into the porn shop and I recalled that particular guy. I think his name was John Aimes the ugly guy I encountered in the shop last time. I doubted I would encounter him in the shop again, but I was sure there would be someone in there like that. I found that prospect revolting.

Later when I didn’t go to the porn shop and was in the process of bedding down for the night. I regretted it. I really wish I had just gone and gotten anything. I couldn’t jerk because I kept thinking of John Aimes and other guys who might be at that porn shop. I finally managed a jerk by fantasizing myself to be a beautiful woman that is compromised by an ugly beast like John. This fueled my sexual fantasies for the rest of the week.

I returned to work on Friday. I was completing paper work at my desk when I noticed John’s information on that piece of scrap paper. I was wrong John’s last name was spelled Aames. He lived at 213 Jefferson Ave. in apartment #5. God what a real unsavory part of town. I threw the piece of paper away.

The next day I was straightening up an aisle and I started thinking about a visit to the porn shop. I also started thinking about John again. I wondered why he was into gay bondage. Did he lack any sexual partners like me? No, I concluded that wasn’t the cause alone. I realized I had done certain unspeakable things to satisfy myself. His sexual desires had probably evolved into a twisted and decadent form in order to attain his needed gratification. I further realized I couldn’t sustain my own personal gratification on the same old sexual fantasy. He also probably required gradually increased degrees of stimulus to attain his present form of sexual release. I was wondering what level of unspeakable decadence he had arrived at when I was required up front.

I drove to the other station and was left numb by the mystery of what it was that John craved. I realized John would probably fuck me. I further realized John would probably like to do other unthinkable things to me. I couldn’t comprehend his appeal to the male form. I lacked any insight to why women liked men at all.

I was curious and didn’t know what I expected to learn. I decided to retrieve his information out of the wastebasket when I got to the other store. I found it with no difficulty and placed it back into the desk drawer. I was soon somewhere else addressing an invoice with a delivery.

Sunday night came and I was enjoying the warm summer air with the car windows down. People were everywhere and I saw several joggers on my way home. I decided to drive by the porn shop and see how many cars were in the back parking lot. I really doubted I would stop since it was day light yet. But so many people seemed to be enjoying the good weather that I hoped.

My eye caught a street sign for Jefferson Avenue. I drove another block before I got spun around and found my way onto Jefferson. Then I didn’t realize it until it was too late. I was going the wrong way. I turned left at the next intersection toward the odd side. I then doubled back down the back alley and saw “345” next to a door on one building. I waited for a car to get out of my way before proceeding on to the next block. I finally crossed the next street and entered the back alley for the two hundred block. I was almost at the end of the block when I saw “213” spray painted on a trash-dumpster. I noticed a couple empty parking spots marked “3,5 and 6.” I parked in six. All the cars were pretty beat up except for a brand new sub-compact. A couple cars were missing license plates and a few others looked like they had been sitting there a while. I hid everything lying in my car and locked it up.

I quickly walked for the back door of the building. I almost expected to see rats when I opened the door. When I did open the door all the doors in the hallway rattled in their doorframes and did so again when I closed it. The hallway was dark and it was very warm inside. One of the doors in the hallway opened only to be shut again right away. Another door was half-open in the middle of the hallway. I found it was a bathroom. I reached in and flipped the light switch. The old yellow and white tiles reflected the light from about four light bulbs or more. The fixtures, wash basin and shower were very old and worn. The room lacked windows and a vent fan in the ceiling rattled to life. I noticed it was very clean like the hallway. I flipped the switch again and the fan died slowly and painfully.

The hall appeared to be freshly vacuumed. Sure the paint was pealing and the carpet was frayed, but there wasn’t any trash lying about. I noticed that just rooms one through four were on the ground floor.

I walked up front into a foyer. A heavy security door was ahead of me flanked by large windows. Nine mailboxes with windows were to my right. All were numbered two through eight except a large one on the bottom marked “Superintendent.” Most had names taped to the doors and number #5 was marked, “Aames.” Through the windows I could see mail in several of the boxes but number #5 was pretty full. I tried several of my keys but none would open it. I kept my back to the windows and popped the door by using a key to jimmy it open. I pulled out the mail and quickly shoved the local flyers back into the box. I scanned the contents; couple letters from a trucking company, letter from a probation officer, monthly bank statement judging by the thickness and a real nasty bondage flyer. I returned everything and used my key to get the locked mailbox door back into place.

I exited the foyer into the hallway and looked up the stairs to my left. The staircase was a deeply worn hardwood that twisted upwards to the right. The door behind me was not marked and closed. I decided it was the stairs going down. I found the door locked and the lock seemed to be an old skeleton key style.

I walked up the stairs and decided they were more treacherous than they looked. The steps creaked and the assent was very steep. The railing looked to have been replaced several times in the past.

I found room #5 at the top of the stairs looking down the hallway. The hallway was clean but peeling paint and frayed carpeting was evident in the darkness. The only light seemed to be coming from the bathroom halfway down the hall. The floor creaked as I walked toward the open bathroom and passed room six. A small window within provided the only light for the hall. The fixtures were in better shape than downstairs and the shower looked larger.

I looked back down the hall at door #5. I noticed none of the rooms had door peepholes to see into the hall. I knew these were just rooms without separate bathrooms and no on site laundry. The rooms probably came furnished just with a bed and dresser. I was sure the rent was very cheap.

I turned and walked down the hall past rooms seven and eight. I got to the door at the end of the hall and opened it into an outdoor stairwell. All the doors in the hallway rattled in their doorframes and did so again when I closed it behind me.

I walked toward my car in the back lot and wondered how far it was to the Porn Shop from here. I paused before unlocking the car. I decided to walk down the alley toward the nearest street. I then turned and walked toward Jefferson. When I reached the corner, I then turned up Jefferson toward the front of #213.

The store front of #209 next door was an engraving shop. I entered and noticed the place was dead for customers. I promptly asked the clerk, “Who owns the building next door.” He promptly said, “Concord Rentals, anything else I can help you with?” I replied, “No, but thank you.” I almost regretted the fact I was leaving him to his interrupted boredom.

I walked to the Porn Shop and the streets were busy. A block and a half later, I was walking across an empty back lot. I was apprehensive about entering the store but I didn’t want to turn around and leave empty handed after walking all this way. The store only held two other patrons during this visit. The interior remained dark without any windows and the lighting was poor. The strange assortment of literature and movies flooded my senses but didn’t overwhelm them like it did on my last visit. I felt excited to be there and I could not help but feel a little nervous. I realized the cashier was paying a little attention to me because of my age.

I looked away from the sex toy displays and was still not at all comfortable with them. I found the lesbian literature where I knew it would be. I took little time making my selection. I then moved on to my ultimate goal of an Erotic Animae Horror film. I couldn’t help but notice the gay bondage films as I passed. I looked about and noticing no one watching I picked up a couple and examined the sleeves. The descriptions on the sleeves didn’t provide much insight.

I continued on to the Animae and was disappointed again. I went up front to tender cash for my purchase. The clerk asked for my identification and just smiled before asking, “Find everything alright?” I felt his attitude was an effort to unsettle me. I asked when they would get any Erotic Animae in stock. The clerk shrugged and said the manager handled ordering. I very happily took the brown paper bagged magazine and left.

I felt frustrated as I walked back to the car. I wondered if the Animae catalog accepted money orders or checks. I remember seeing the VISA logo on the bottom of the order form.

I drove home and climbed in the shower as soon as I got there. I hadn’t frustrated myself so I slipped into my routine of release. I was thinking of showering in the upstairs shower at #213 Jefferson Avenue as I lathered my crotch and massaged my own aroused member. While my left hand kneaded my shaft slowly upward the right hand caressed my ass cheeks before slathering foamy soap throughout my crack.

Eventually my right index finger began teasing my anal opening. As I was doing this, my hips were moving back and forth. I told myself, “This is where I see John watching me through the clear shower curtain. His robe drops to the floor and he steps into the shower behind me. He says, “Let me help.” He bats my hands away and grabs my shaft with his right hand and my ass crack with his left hand. My hands press flat against the tiled walls.”

That is when I opened my left hand and moved the open palm in circular fashion against my very tip. Then I told myself that John would say, “I like your little ass and I think it likes me. Lets find out how tight it is.” I moved my right index finger into my ass. I plunged it back and forth into my anal cavity and I trembled along my legs. I thought I would cum but my legs grew weak.

I enjoyed several hearty jerks to my new budding fantasies of John fucking my ass. I dismissed the fantasies as just fantasies. Tuesday night, I was enjoying jerks to my new lesbian magazine. Wednesday night I jerked so much, I ripped a couple blanks to animae pictures on my computer. Come Thursday, I was playing an old computer game and finishing the laundry before work on Friday.

I found myself reading the personals again on Sunday. I did not find anything new but many more “Heavy women” advertising for older men. I drifted to the rentals and found an advertisement for Concord Rentals. I called for shits and giggles.

I was even more amazed to get a hold of a living person on the other end of the line, “Beaumont Hotel, Brian speaking how may I help you?” I surprisingly stammered, “Who handles the Concord Rentals.” Brian replied, “One moment please.” The line rang several times before the line picked up; “This is Stacy.” “Yes Stacy do you handle the Concord Rentals?” I heard papers being shuffled, “I have last Friday’s list of availability’s right here. Was they’re anything in any certain price range you were looking at?” asked Stacy. “Um…well how about any openings at 213 Jefferson Avenue?” I asked. “Oh,” she responded as she shuffled her papers. “Yes there is currently three rooms open and available. Rooms #2, #6 and #7 are open. They have rooms #2 and #7 marked down for minor repairs this upcoming week but no viewing scheduled as of yet on any of the rooms. Would you like me to schedule you for a viewing?” asked Stacy. “Yes how about Monday afternoon?” “Monday morning around 9 AM would be better,” replied Stacy. I agreed and was told the superintendent should show up within ten minutes of the appointment. Stacy took my name and phone number in case of a last minute cancellation.

I had to stay very late that night as two employees didn’t make it in to one of the stations. I had to take an employee from the other station for coverage. I left a lengthy note to what happened for the weekday manager and also the owner. I figured one of the associates would get fired for not calling in. I knew the other associate was sick on Saturday, so it wasn’t any surprise when she called in sick for Sunday.

I dropped from exhaustion on my couch. I woke up quite early and very hungry. I got undressed and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I ate and remembered my 9 AM appointment. It was 4:34 AM according to the microwave when I finished eating. I know I didn’t get out of the station until after 11:30 PM last night. I was so happy to be going back to bed. I normally work 5 AM to 9 PM on Friday and Saturday. Sunday I come in at 6AM and leave between 5 and 6 PM. I was tired. I turned the light back on and set my alarm for 8:30 AM. I laid the clock on its side so I would remember to reset the alarm time for this weekend later.

The alarm went off and I got up and turned it off. If it weren’t for me really needing to use the bathroom, I would have gone back to bed. I took a quick shower and washed my hair. I got dressed and left. I don’t think I was awake yet when I parked the car and put money in the meter.

I approached the security door in front of 213 Jefferson Ave. I found it locked. I glanced down at my watch and was surprised that I was 4 minutes early. I never considered that I would be on time. I stood out front and watched traffic. I glanced down at my watch again and noticed it was now 9 minutes after the hour. I was starting to grow impatient. I sighed and went back to watching traffic.

I heard a noise behind me and turned. A thin man with a large nose had opened the security door and said, “Are you the 9 AM appointment?” “Yes,” I replied. He ushered me in and closed the security door behind me. All the closed doors down the hallway rattled in their doorframes. A glance at my watch showed it to be 9:13 AM.

“I have rooms #2, #6 and #7 open. Room #2 is on the ground floor and has a little higher rent. We rent by the week but provide a discount for a month in advance. This sheet of paper shows our rates and if you will follow me, I will show you room #2,” spoke the superintendent as he turned to walk away. Looking at the sheet I said, “I would like to see room #7.” He stopped suddenly and looked back toward me, “Oh, Room #2 is much nicer than #7. Room #7 is in need of some minor repair and isn’t ready yet. The ground floor is much easier to move into,” he continued. “Yeah but there is always more foot traffic on the ground floor,” I replied.

He reluctantly led me out of the foyer and up the stairs. I didn’t like this guy. He seemed pushy and he looked like a creep. He was about six feet tall but very thin boned. His hair was graying and he was in his fifties or approaching them. I felt my visit was a great inconvenience to him. He led me down the hall just past the bathroom door on the right to room #7 on the left. He unlocked the door, “You will notice a couple holes in the wall.” The other doors in the hallway rattled slightly as he pushed the door open. He stood just inside the doorway as I entered the room.

I was surprised that the room had a closet and was larger than I envisioned. There was a full-sized bed, night stand, dresser, TV/VCR stand, desk and wooden chair. There was room for a small refrigerator and microwave in one corner. I noticed that there were enough outlets for everything I wanted. The holes were large and revealed just how thin the walls actually were. “I like it but what about phone lines,” I asked? “Each room has a phone jack behind the headboard. It is each tenants responsibility to make arrangements for service,” he answered. When I turned to leave I noticed his eyes moved up to meet mine, which I felt was odd.

“Would you care to see rooms #2 now,” he asked? I replied, “No.” He hastily added, “My room is #1 and I assure you that things remain very quite down there.” I took a moment to glance at the rental rates on the sheet and was stunned by what I saw. The monthly discount rate was almost as low as a third of what I was paying for my present apartment. “I will take this room when it is ready or hmm. Let me see #6.” “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to see the other room? The occupant of room #5 is really rude and can be an asshole at times,” he persisted. I ignored him when I asked, “When will this room be ready?” “It may be two weeks,” he responded with a sigh. I replied, “Let me see #6.” He opened the door to #6 and said, “Little smaller than seven but so is the bed.” I nodded to him as I stepped into the room. I turned and asked, “Would cash be alright?” He smiled and purred, “Yes follow me and I will get you a receipt.”

I stepped past him into the hall. He followed and pulled the door closed causing all the other doors to rattle in their doorframes. I noticed the open bathroom door moved ever so slightly as I walked past it. He stepped past me in the hall and led me down the creaky stairs.

I followed him down the hall past the front foyer to his room. He opened his door and once again all the doors in the hall rattled softly in their doorframes. He stepped into his illuminated room holding the door open and gestured with his other hand for me to enter. I timidly stepped across the threshold and found myself standing in his room. He turned and closed his door with the ever-present sound of rattling doors.

I looked about his room and found everything seemed to have a certain place as if he were anal. I stood on a large area rug that softened the floor’s creaking as he stepped past me to the desk. The room had mirrored closet doors and a large mirror over the dresser. There was a much nicer full-sized bed, night stand, dresser, TV/VCR stand, desk and two cushioned office chairs. There was a small refrigerator and microwave in a corner. The walls were wallpapered in an intricate white and blue pattern with hints of gold and brown. The wallpaper was complete with borders. The room lacked windows.

He interrupted my wandering eye as he sat down and spoke, “Want a seat?” I sat in the other office style chair that he had gestured too. He coughed, “Oh, I would be very eager to help if you decide to change your mind on room #2. I would hate to see you offended by the tenant in room #5.” I wondered what had changed his attitude toward me during my tour. He asked while pulling out a receipt book, “Where do you live now?” I told him. He promptly asked, “Where do you work?” I told him and added that I had been fortunate to have received sort of a few promotions lately. He quizzed me on my employer and current position as he filled a receipt. He asked for my driver’s license in order to complete the receipt. I set out three months rent in front of him. He asked, “You live in a very nice place, please explain why you would move?” I laughed, “An opportunity to save up some cash.” He replied, “Oh!” I took the receipt and stood.

He smiled broadly, “Please feel free to move in anytime, I took the liberty to date your receipt for next Monday. That gives you a week to move in and it is greatly appreciated that you paid so far in advance.”
I replied with a smile, “Why thank you very much.” He added with cough and a grin, “Oh, I actually enjoy my room rent free since I manage this building and another nearby. I have entertained the idea of a room mate for awhile now, since the room is so large. Think about it and let me know if it interests you.” I felt blind sided and muttered, “Why thank you for generous offer.” He seemed to offer up my room key with some hesitation.

I turned and he quickly rose and said, “Oh, I look forward to seeing more of you Jay.” I turned back and apologized, “I am sorry, I never caught your name.” He replied, “Oh, Dennis,” with an awkward grin. I shook his hand goodbye. As I walked away, he cheerfully called after me, “I will let you know if there is any interest in room #2 and remember you just need to speak to me about any changes.”

When I reached the foyer door I turned to give a smile and wave goodbye. It dawned on me he was looking at my ass. I felt confused with that realization. Once on the sidewalk outside moving toward my car, certain things he said seemed to make more sense. I was still somewhat confused when pulling away from the curb though, my imagination getting the better of me?

I easily found a rental space and paid 3 months in advance. I rented a moving van and started to work on moving. I went the next two days with hardly any sleep. I purchased a portable washer and dryer that could be easily hid in a closet. They were the only two items, I needed the moving van for to move to my new room. But I used the van to move my few chosen items to keep out of storage. I was surprised that the move turned out to be so inexpensive besides the washer and dryer.

It was Thursday morning, I had fallen asleep on my new unmade bed fully clothed. My new room was a shambles with boxes strewn everywhere. I was very aware that I awoke extremely aroused. It occurred to me that I had not tended to my sexual needs at all this week. I was being very neglectful to myself. When I rose from bed, I felt a dull ache in my sides. I knew it was a back pressure on my sexual plumbing. I must have been aroused for quite sometime. I went to the bathroom across the hall and pissed a heady foam.

I was overwhelmed with pressure to get everything done before I needed to be back at work Friday. I left to walk through my old apartment, one last time, before dropping off the key. I needed to complete a change of address and change the address on my driver’s license. I needed to have my phone service changed and I called from the old apartment before throwing the phone in a box. I only wanted a phone for internet access, but decided that I would go with radio frequency internet access instead. I concluded that if work wanted to contact me they would email me. After all why should I pay for a phone if I am never going to use it.

I was very eager to set up my new room and was overjoyed when the errand running was over. So far during my moving, I had encountered none of my new fellow tenants. I was starting to have the feeling that I was living there alone. I was very surprised to encounter the tenant from room #8 while hauling up my last box. He glared at me and disappeared into his room before I could speak a greetings. He was caring a towel and had wet hair, I can only assume he had just taken a shower. He appeared to be Hispanic with dark hair and a stout frame.

I laughed to myself, setting up my room really just entailed setting up electronic appliances. The computer and DVD cables were the worst. I found myself moved in 2 hours easily. I hauled out the boxes to the car. I would just drop them off at the storage space after work tomorrow. I turned on the computer and was dumbfounded that the radio frequency modem worked already. It was an entirely painless or effortless setup. I found myself browsing panties and thongs on ebay. I was quickly aroused and thought this the easiest way to replenish my diminished pantie collection. I was very stimulated by new surroundings and found that no stimulus was required for an orgasm at all.

After several pleasant and spontaneous releases, I set up the washer and washed the bedclothes left for the super single bed. I had run the water lines to the bathroom and was enjoying the experience of doing my first load of laundry when Dennis showed up. He asked gravely, “What’s this?” I knew he was displeased by his tone and that surprised me. I made eye contact with him and smiled, “Hi Dennis.” He replied, “Oh, hi. I am not certain that I can allow you to use this device.” I asked, “Ever see one before?” he paused and said, “No!” I said, “Well guess I am surprised, but they actually quite pricey and doubt few would pay so much for one when a full sized one is so much cheaper.” He was deep in thought and I knew he still was of a mind to flex his authority over me. I interrupted him as he appeared to be about to speak, “Its water and electric usage is so trivial, besides it is fairly quiet. I actually do not need to run the hoses into the bathroom, I could just run it out of some five gallon pails. I did not expect that you would have disapproved or I would have spoken with you beforehand. I thought from our meeting Monday that if there was any friend here it would be you.” He smiled awkwardly at what I said sunk in, “Oh, I never said I disapproved, its not a problem at all. Please do not misunderstand me.” I laughed, “Awesome, thank you, knew I could count on you.”

He asked, “You have the dryer as well?” I replied happily, “Yes, right over here.” I showed him the dryer in the closet.