Multiple Units #202

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*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.


Venice Apartments had a sign out front, with the name ‘Venice Apartments’ in black against a background of the Italian flag of green, white, and red. Encircling the name was the silhouette of a gondola and gondolier.

The complex was comprised of four separate buildings arranged in a square. Each building faced inward, faced the pool and small courtyard. The first building, the northeast building was three floors, with five apartments on each floor. Apartments 101, 105, 201, 205, 301 and 305 were two bedroom units. The three units in between each two bedroom unit were one bedroom units. The southeastern building had apartments 106 and 107 on the ground floor, each a two bedroom unit. The second and third floors had four single room efficiencies on each. The southwestern building was a duplicate of the northeastern building, each floor with a two bedroom unit on the corners, separated by three one bedroom units. And the northwestern building was a duplicate of the southeastern building, a ground floor of two units, each with two bedrooms, then eight one room efficiencies atop. Behind the northwestern building was a large laundry room and an exercise room.

Across the parking lot in front of the northeastern building was the rental office. And on top of the rental office was the apartment building’s clubhouse. Each tenant had the right to reserve the clubhouse for parties, but they must notify the apartment manager of the desired time that they planned to use the clubhouse.


On a warm September day, Ryan Welton padded up the stairs from checking his mailbox. There had been the usual sales fliers, one letter addressed to Tommy Campbell, his former roommate, and the St. Elizabeth’s Public Utilities bill.

The handsome eighteen year old had no idea why he and Tommy had moved in together. In retrospect, the only reason they’d ever been friends had been because Tommy had lived right next door to Ryan’s dad, and had been the same age as him. Both he and Tommy had thought that Andy, Ryan’s oldest brother was a butt head and Christopher, Ryan’s older brother was a dork.

But Tommy was passive aggressive, would sit and pout until he got his way. Tommy would never be the one to acquiesce; he would just pout until Ryan gave in. If Ryan didn’t give in, Tommy would then explode in a fit of rage and break Ryan’s possessions.

At three twenty five a month, Ryan could easily afford the rent on the unit. He could have afforded a one bedroom apartment, at four seventy five a month. Together, he and Tommy could have swung a two bedroom unit at six twenty five. That would have actually been better; those units had two bathrooms, instead of the one tiny bathroom. More than once, Tommy had decided that Ryan’s shampoo bottle had been too close to his own, crowding his shampoo. In retaliation, Tommy would then pour Ryan’s shampoo down the shower drain. If they’d each had a bathroom, Ryan would have had use of his own shampoo, his own soap, instead of having to use the shampoo formulated for oily hair that Tommy used.

As Ryan passed apartment 202, the door suddenly opened. A handsome older man stepped out. Ryan smelled the distinct aroma of pipe tobacco and froze.

Andrew Welton, Ryan’s father had once had a friend, Mr. Simon. Mr. Simon was a pipe smoker and always smelled of rich tobacco.

Mr. Simon had a black pipe with a curved stem and large bowl. The man would carefully, meticulously pack the tobacco into the pipe, tamping it down with his thumb. Then he would use a long, thin lighter to light the pipe. He even knew how to blow smoke rings.

His hugs always had that lingering smell of tobacco. To Ryan, it was a warm, welcome smell. The man had been totally blind, but had always had a big smile and a welcoming hug when Ryan, Christopher, and Andy came to visit their dad.

When he was older, Ryan found out that Mr. Simon had been married and had a son. Then his wife had left him, and had taken their son to live in Benhurst, Colorado. The ex-wife had lied, told the judge that Mr. Simon’s blindness endangered their son’s safety and the judge agreed. So, whenever they were there, Mr. Simon treated Andy, Christopher and Ryan as surrogate sons.

Then, one day, he wasn’t there anymore. Ryan asked their father where Mr. Simon was. Andrew bluntly told them that Mr. Simon had moved and he didn’t know where he had moved to. Apparently, Andrew didn’t care to find out, either.

And when the door of apartment 202 had opened, Ryan smelled that distinct aroma of rich tobacco. The handsome tenant of 202 smiled and nodded to the handsome young man.

“You uh, you smoke? A pipe?” Ryan asked, throat dry.

“Yeah. It’s an aged blend,” the man said, his deep voice sending shivers down Ryan’s spine.

“I uh, when I was a kid, my dad had a antalya escort friend that smoked a pipe. Smelled just like that,” Ryan said.

“Oh yeah?” the man smiled, his eyes crinkling up.

“He could blow smoke rings,” Ryan smiled.

“Mm hmm,” the man agreed, turning to walk down the steps.

“Oh, I’m Ryan, live in two oh nine, right there,” Ryan said, sticking out his hand.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m Brian Turner,” the man said, shaking Ryan’s hand.

The man’s hand was large, firm. Ryan felt another shiver go up his spine from the contact.

“See you later,” Ryan said.

“Mm hmm, need to get some groceries,” Brian smiled and went down the stairs.

Inside of 209, Ryan stretched out on the futon portion of the bunk bed he’d bought when he and Tommy had moved into the apartment. That had been another bone of contention. Ryan had been the one to purchase the furniture. Tommy had insisted that he get the bottom bunk, the larger of the two bunks. The bottom bunk was a futon, could turn into a couch on the chance that they’d ever have a visitor.

“Should have told him get the fuck out right then and there,” Ryan said aloud.

Brian Turner was tall; Ryan would guess at least six feet one, six feet two inches. His hair was brown with a few strands of gray woven in, and his eyes had been a deep brown, with those distinctive crow’s feet at the corners.

His mustache also had a few sprigs of gray among the brown bristles. Ryan wondered if the bristles would tickle if he kissed him.

“Shut up; that’s faggot shit,” Ryan said out loud.

A few days later, Ryan was coming up the stairs from the pool. He had his towel draped across his bare shoulders.

“Hi, Mr. Turner,” Ryan smiled, seeing his neighbor unlocking his apartment door.

“Mm? Oh! Hello Ryan, how are you?” Brian turned, smiling. “And, uh, please, just call me Brian, all right?”

“Oh. Sure. How’s it going?” Ryan asked, admiring the man’s light gray suit and bright blue tie.

“Glad to be home. Going have a cup of coffee, smoke my pipe, forget that I have to bust my butt from eight to five,” Brian said, pushing his door open. “Well, until tomorrow that is.”

“Yeah, well, I’m off until tomorrow; then its four until midnight,” Ryan said.

“Oh? Where do you work?” Brian asked.

“Joy Four,” Ryan said.

“But you’re off today?” Brian asked.

“Uh huh,” Ryan agreed, brushing his thick blonde hair back nervously.

This handsome man made Ryan slightly nervous, slightly agitated. His throat was dry again as he stood, smelling the man’s scent of cologne, sweat, smelling the man’s apartment, the rich smell of pipe tobacco.

“Care for a cup of coffee?” Brian asked.

“I, uh, sure,” Ryan gulped, even though he didn’t much care for coffee.

Inside the apartment, Ryan sniffed the air appreciatively. The man’s furniture was heavy, masculine. There was a brown tweed couch along the long wall. Next to the door, back to the window was a matching tweed chair. A dark brown table sat next to the chair, a pipe stand holding Brian’s pipe. There was a glass bowl with dark brown tobacco visible within, and an ashtray.

“Let me get out of this suit,” Brian called out. “Have a seat, hmm?”

Ryan folded his towel and put it on the tweed couch. He sat closest to the window, closest to the chair, assuming that this was where Brian normally sat.

The air was pleasantly cool. Tommy had always insisted that their small apartment be kept at sixty eight degrees. It had always felt so cold to Ryan, especially on the top bunk with the air blowing right on him.

A moment later, Brian reappeared, now wearing a loose velvet robe. He chatted with Ryan as he prepared a carafe of coffee. When the coffee maker quit gurgling, he asked Ryan what he liked in his coffee.

“Uh, cream, little bit of sugar,” Ryan said.

“Can do,” Brian said cheerfully.

The mugs were large, heavy mugs. Brian then sat in the chair with a sigh.

Brian’s robe was a dark brown of velvet. When he sat, the bottom gaped slightly, showing Ryan a portion of a pale, hairy leg.

“Mind if I smoke?” Brian asked, already pulling the pipe toward himself.

“I uh no, no, go ahead,” Ryan said.

He watched intently as Brian gathered the tobacco. Brian had twisted slightly in his chair and more of his robe gaped open, showing more of his leg. But Ryan was watching Brian’s large hands.

When Brian’s lips pursed around the stem of the long, straight pipe, Ryan watched intently.

“Mm,” Brian sighed, blowing out a plume of smoke.

“Oops! Sorry ’bout that,” Brian then said.

“Hmm?” Ryan asked, pulling his eyes away from Brian’s handsome face.

Brian’s robe had parted. Brian hurriedly flipped the overlying portion back over his crotch. For the briefest of moments, Ryan saw Brian Turner’s cock and balls.

In that brief glimpse, Ryan saw that Brian was uncircumcised. He had also seen a patch of dark curls with some silver dotted throughout. Ryan had seen two heavy looking fethiye escort balls underneath Brian’s fat cock.

Ryan tore his eyes from the no longer gaping robe and glanced up at Brian as the man took a deep drag of the pipe. The men then blew a plume of grayish white smoke.

“And…” Brian smiled and manipulated his mouth.

“Yeah!” Ryan giggled when Brian blew a smoke ring.

As Brian smoked, they talked. Ryan told the handsome older man he’d moved from Oakleaf, Texas to DeGarde upon graduating from high school.

“My dad lived here; he was originally from Baylor Lake; said it was nothing but a bunch of fishing camps when he was a kid,” Ryan said. “He uh, he committed suicide couple years ago. But I went ahead and moved here, moved in with a buddy, then he decided he’d be a dick about the whole thing and moved back home.”

Brian made the appropriate murmur when Ryan told him of his father’s suicide. He said his mother had been ill for many years and he had taken care of her until she passed away last month.

“Sold the house; oh God, too many memories,” Brian said sadly. So right now? Just going to work, coming home, going to work. I guess later on, I’ll get around to looking for another house, but right now, just can’t bring myself to do it.”

They both smiled softly when Brian blew a large smoke ring. Then Brian drained his mug of coffee. Ryan shook his head ‘no’ when Brian silently indicated his cup of coffee.

“This friend of your daddy’s? The one that smoked a pipe?” Brian asked.

“Mr. Simon? God, he was the coolest,” Ryan enthused. “I mean, he was totally blind, but you’d never know it. And his hugs were the best. Smelled just like his pipe. But, he moved and my dad said he didn’t know where. I miss him. My dad, and Mr. Simon.”

Brian smiled and got to his feet. He fussed around in his kitchen, pouring his coffee, then adding a little cream.

“Well, I’m always available for a hug. I probably smell a little like Mr. Simon,” Brian hinted as he set his mug of coffee onto his end table.

“Um, okay,” Ryan agreed.

He got to shaky legs. Brian stood, arms wide. Ryan stepped up and put his arms around Brian’s torso. Brian wrapped Ryan in his muscled arms and squeezed Ryan tightly.

The smell of the tobacco on Brian’s robe was very much like Mr. Simon’s smell. The warmth of Brian’s arms was very much like Mr. Simon’s hugs.

“Mm, thank you, Ryan,” Brian said.

His lips touched Ryan’s lips. Brian’s mustache did tickle, did scrap against Ryan’s lips. There was the taste of tobacco, and of strong dark roasted coffee on Brian’s lips.

Ryan could feel Brian’s cock beginning to swell, beginning to grow erect. He felt the lump through the velvet robe. Then he felt the bare cock, felt the rubbery flesh slowly trace upward against his bare belly as the robe parted.

“Oops! Sorry about that,” Brian let a nervous chuckle escape.

Brian’s cock was fully erect now. It felt quite warm, quite soft and smooth against Ryan’s bare belly.

Brian did not release his hold on Ryan. Ryan did not release his hold on Brian. Brian again bent and pressed his lips to Ryan’s lips and the two men kissed. Then Brian opened his mouth. Ryan opened his mouth and allowed Brian’s slightly foul tasting tongue to enter his mouth. He could taste the tobacco, the coffee on Brian’s thick tongue. As they kissed.

Brian’s right hand came around and began to trace up and down Ryan’s shoulder and arm. Then Brian’s hand was tracing around Ryan’s pectoral muscle, then teasing Ryan’s hard nipple.

Brian’s hand dipped lower, rubbing up and down Ryan’s belly. His left hand was gently rubbing up and down Ryan’s smooth back. Ryan just held onto Brian, unsure of what to do.

“You, you ever been with a man?” Brian whispered, his deep voice sending shivers through Ryan’s overheated body.

Ryan couldn’t speak. He just shook his head.

“Would you like, would you like, I want to suck your cock,” Brian whispered.

“Okay,” Ryan croaked. “I mean, I don’t got to suck yours, huh?”

Brian didn’t answer, just pushed his tongue into Ryan’s mouth again. Ryan felt Brian’s hand, his large hand at the waistband of his swim trunks.

“Oh my, that, that is a beautiful cock,” Brian murmured, his large hand tracing the outline of Ryan’s hard cock through the silky material of Ryan’s small swim suit.

Then the man eased Ryan’s swim suit down Ryan’s muscled legs. Ryan’s hard cock bobbed up once free of the confines of the swim suit.

“Mm hmm,” Brian murmured as his large hand stroked Ryan’s seven and a half inches of fat meat.

“How about we go to the bedroom?” Brian whispered.

Ryan kicked his flip flops and swim suit next to the couch. Nude, he followed Brian through the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, Brian wiggled out of his robe. He exposed his broad chest with a patch of silvery brown hair. His belly was beginning to develop a slight paunch, but was still tapered somewhat before reaching kaş escort his narrow hips.

As Brian stood, now fully nude, Ryan could see that the man’s cock was about an inch longer than his own cock, and slightly ticker than his own.

Brian saw Ryan’s gaze, saw Ryan staring at his cock. He smiled as he saw Ryan’s cock become even harder.

“Want to touch it?” Brian asked, thrusting his hips forward.

“I uh, I guess,” Ryan murmured.

“Here,” Brian soothed, easing Ryan onto the neatly made bed.

Ryan sank into the very soft mattress. He could feel the cool fabric underneath his slightly pudgy buttocks. The texture was silky against the backs of his thighs.

Brian pulled Ryan to lie in the center of the bed. His muscled arms gathered the nearly frozen young man in for a hug.

Ryan could feel the warmth of Brian’s body against his skin. He could feel Brian’s large hands stroking his flesh, touching him.

He could taste the tobacco on Brian’s lips, his tongue as they kissed. He shivered as Brian’s hand again came in contact with his hard cock.

Brian sat up onto his left elbow. Ryan looked up at the man, slightly confused. It was hard to catch his breath and his head was whirring as he looked at Brian’s face.

“Go ahead, touch it,” Brian softly ordered.

Ryan looked down, over Brian’s hairy chest, down the trail of hair that led from chest to belly, to the patch of pubic hair, to the very hard, thick meat.

With a trembling hand, Ryan reached out. He did touch the man’s velvety soft skin. He felt the heat of Brian’s cock as his fingers wrapped around the fat shaft.

With the knowledge that came from also being uncircumcised, Ryan’s thumb flicked up and skinned Brian’s foreskin down, exposing the man’s shiny head. Ryan then let his hand slide up and down the cock.

“Here, let’s…” Brian husked, swiveling Ryan’s body around.

Now Ryan lay on the bed, his feet actually propped up on a pillow, his head toward the foot of the bed.

“Ugh!” Ryan then cried out as Brian’s hot mouth touched the tip of his cock.

Brian used his tongue to tease Ryan’s foreskin. The thick tongue swiped around between foreskin and cock head.

Ryan had the sensation of his skin being pushed down as his cock’s head pushed into a tight, wet, warm opening. When he felt Brian’s hot mouth slide up and down the shaft of his cock, Ryan nearly ejaculated. He continued to stroke Brian’s fat member, more out of instinct than any cognitive thought.

When nearly half of Ryan’s cock was in Brian’s hot, sucking mouth, Ryan felt Brian’s fingertip tracing around his anus. He felt Brian’s fingertip push slightly against his anus.

“Ugh!” Ryan grunted out when Brian’s thick finger pushed into his rectum.

“Ugh!” he grunted again as Brian fucked the thick finger in and out a few times.

“Why don’t…ugh, oh, why don’t you kiss my cock?” Brian suggested as he twisted the fat finger inside of Ryan’s ass.

Ryan did not think. He couldn’t think. All he was aware of was the thick finger in his ass, sending shivers throughout his body. He was only aware of the hot, wet sensations traveling up and down his throbbing cock.

Ryan bent and opened his mouth. He took the exposed head of Brian’s cock into his mouth and tasted the man’s sweat and faint tinge of soap, of urine and of Brian’s excitement that oozed from the tip of Brian’s cock.

“Mm,” Brian moaned as his cock entered Ryan’s hot, sucking mouth.

Ryan bobbed his head up and down the first three and a half inches of Brian’s cock. His hand continued to jack Brian’s cock as he sucked.

“Ugh! Shit!” Ryan grunted around Brian’s fat cock as Brian introduced a second finger to his squirming anus.

Brian placed a meaty hand at the back of Ryan’s head, holding him in place. Then Brian’s hips jerked forward, bumping his cock into the back of Ryan’s throat.

“Ack!” Ryan gagged as the cock bumped into his throat.

“Oh God yes,” Brian hissed and began to pump a torrent of his sperm into Ryan’s mouth.

Ryan sucked and swallowed as his mouth filled with bitter, salty, slimy fluid. His hand continued to jerk Brian off as Brian’s cock spewed sperm.

And a split second later, his own cock erupted in a geyser of semen. Ryan moaned and grunted and shook as spurt after spurt of his semen pumped into Brian’s hot mouth. Ryan grunted and moaned and shuddered as Brian’s thick fingers pumped in and out of his ass.

“I, I got to go,” Ryan suddenly blurted out.

He bolted from the bedroom. In the living room, he quickly pulled his swimsuit on, slid his feet into his flip flops and scampered out of the apartment.

Safely in apartment 209, Ryan locked himself in his small bathroom, sat on the commode and sobbed. After voiding bladder and bowels, Ryan weakly got into the small shower stall and tried to wash away his shame.

He had let a man kiss him. If Ryan was honest with himself, he had kissed another man. He had let another man touch him, and he had touched the other man.

Ryan had sucked a cock. Ryan had sucked a cock, and swallowed sperm. He had swallowed what had seemed like a gallon of sperm.

As he thought about how much Brian had ejaculated, how much semen Brian had shot down his throat, Ryan’s cock grew quite hard.

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