Message-ID: <63757asstr$1465809055@assm.asstr.org>
From: Hugh Banton <clover2209@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: Hugh Banton <clover2209@yahoo.com>
References: <710448567.1676847.1465752586314.JavaMail.yahoo.ref@mail.yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Story: Apple of My Eye (MM, mast)
Lines: 284
Date: Mon, 13 Jun 2016 05:10:55 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Hello Moderator, I wanted to know if you would consider the attached story,
"Apple of My Eye," for the Alt.Sex Stories Repository.  I attached it as a
text file.  I hope that's OK.  a

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<1st attachment, "Apple of My Eye.txt" begin>

This is a work of fiction.  All persons are intended to be age 18 and
above.

   APPLE OF MY EYE

   By anonymous.a

   I resisted getting a smart phone until, as the Borg might say,
"Resistance is futile."

   I'm not a Luddite.  I don't fear the future, and I'm not afraid to learn
new technologies.  Having worked in graphic arts all of my professional
life I've had to embrace all things digital, from the actual production of
content to its distribution, and even communication with my coworkers and
clients.  So it's not as if I'm a technophobe.

   I think it's fair to say I resent the intrusion a smart phone
represents. I don't want to spend my idle time working for the company,
browsing through web garbage, taking absurd pictures, and responding to
banal text messages.  I work my tail end off, when the day is over I want
to relax, have a beer, read a book, or just sit on my front porch and watch
the world go by.  I don't want to spend it mesmerized by another glowing
screen.

   But at one point my employer insisted I get a smart phone so I could
perform certain aspects of my job while mobile.  I was miffed to be sure.
My phone bill doubled and now I had this digital rat following me
everywhere I went, beeping at me with notifications.  When the weather
alert went off one morning as I was driving to work, I nearly ran off the
road.  Eventually I got used to it.

   I initially tried the Samsung Galaxy but that phone didn't like my
carrier.  I switched carriers and got an iPhone.  I had used a
company-supplied iPhone in the past, so the learning curve wasn't steep.

   That is until the damn thing broke.

   "Broke" is an exaggeration.  One day it simply stopped backing up my
contacts to the cloud.  I didn't care about the photos or videos, but I did
want that contact database saved, especially after all the work I'd done
putting them in the phone.

   I tried everything I could think of to fix the stupid thing, and when I
failed I caved and called Apple tech support.  I wish I'd done that right
from the get-go.

   After a short wait, during which I endured loud, shrieky "popular"
music, I was greeted by Brandon, who was very polite and seemed eager to
help me resolve this cloud problem.  In fact, the longer Brandon spoke, the
more intrigued I became.  I had never given much thought to the notion that
the sound of a man's voice could make a difference in my level of
attraction to him, but Brandon had raised the issue.  His voice was
handsomely boyish - not in the child sense of the word at all.  I suppose
you could describe it as wholesome and maybe a bit callow, as if he still
had some maturing to do.

   He walked me through the process of disabling and then re-enabling the
cloud settings on my phone, and then told me how to update to the cloud
manually.  We were on the call about 10 minutes and when we finished, the
phone had backed up to the cloud and everything was working perfectly.

   And I had a hard-on.

   I thanked him and then said, "You have a voice for radio.  Has anyone
ever told you that before?"

   He laughed and said, "A couple of people have told me I should do
commercials, but I'd be too nervous.  Probably say something I wish I
hadn't."

   Now it was my turn to laugh.  And since I would likely never hear from
or see Brandon again, I decided to risk a flirtation.

   "Well if you look as good as you sound, I think I'd like to marry you."

   That elicited an even heartier laugh.  He didn't comment on my
"proposal" but he did thank me, and with that we ended the call.

   An hour or so later I received an email message from Apple.  It was one
of those questionnaires where they ask you to rate your experience, and
evaluate the person who had helped you.  Of course I gave Brandon all A's.
In the comment box I complimented his patience and willingness to help, and
repeated my joking offer to marry him if he looked as good as he sounded,
throwing in my desire to see a photo of him.  I clicked the "submit"
button, chuckled to myself and closed my in-box.

   I then went about my day, happy that my phone had been restored to
functionality.  I eventually forgot all about Brandon, until early that
evening when I plopped down to watch me some Netflix.  I actually enjoy
watching movies on my PC.  I don't have to hold anything, the screen is big
and close to my face, and the sound is terrific.  The only drawback?  I
often eat while I'm watching, and my keyboard looks like the bottom of a
garbage can.

   I checked email before heading into Netlfix and spotted a message that
stood out from all the twitter and Facebook notifications.  I opened it and
gasped.  Attached was a photo of a hot-looking guy, along with a Skype
account number.  Was that Brandon?  If so he was gorgeous.  I have
different tastes in men, depending on my mood for the day, and this guy
definitely fit my "fresh-faced twink" category.  He looked almost exactly
like that kid who played Dez on the old Disney Channel show "Austin and
Ally." His feathered red hair hung over his forehead, giving way to a wide,
cheerful face and a dazzling smile, tapering into a strong chin.  Wow.  I
was smitten.

   I cranked up Skype and typed in the account number.  When the screen
resolved, it was he, my pseudo-Dez.  He gave me a thousand-watt smile and
said, "Hi, I'm Brandon.  Who's this?"

   "I'm from Cloud 9," I joked, and he laughed.  "Oh yeah, you're the
fellow whose phone wouldn't back up to the cloud.  I hope it's still
working OK."

   I told him it was, but now I had a different problem.  His smile dimmed
to a concerned frown.

   "I'm in love," I quickly added, "with the man who fixed my phone.  He's
every bit as luscious as his voice."

   His face lit up and he gave me a goofy grin.  "You are way too nice!" he
gushed.  "I wish you could talk to my boss.  Maybe she'd give me a raise!"

   "Happy to do it," I told him.  "Now, I need to know everything about
you."

   So we commenced chatting.  I learned his name really was Brandon, and he
lived near Cuppertino, Calif., which was a shame because I live half a
continent away in the Southeast.  He was 23 years old and working on his
master's degree in computer science.  The tech support job was a way to
help pay the bills as he was living on limited student loans.

   I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction, bringing up
the question of his sexual orientation.  He didn't commit to one way or
another and instead, tried to tease his way out of not answering.  Having
exhausted all my wiles, I took a more direct approach.

   "Brandon, can I see you with your shirt off?"

   I was afraid he might sever the connection, but he seemed to think about
it for a few seconds, then quickly yanked off the DIY Network T-shirt and
adjusted the webcam so that it showed his chest all the way down to his
shorts.  His skin was pale, which I suppose is to be expected for somebody
who is going to school and working at the same time.  He didn't have the
overbuilt physique of a gym rat, but he wasn't fat, either.  You could see
the hint of a six-pack, and his waist narrowed girlishly, divided
vertically by a noticeable treasure trail from his navel to points south. I
was hopeful I'd get to see those points south.

   "You're a hot boy, Brandon.  You know that?"

   He smiled bashfully, and then a note of impishness crept into that
smile. He said in a low, husky voice, "Would you like to see more?"

   "Are you kidding me?" I blurted.  "I would LOVE to see more."

   He stood up and, almost shyly, hooked his thumbs under the waistband of
his shorts and slid them down.  He was not wearing underwear.

   And let me tell you: It was glorious.

   There, hanging between his moon-white thighs, was a long, slender dick,
springing from a big bush of ginger pubes and topped with a champagne cork
of a cap.  I've had dicks like that in my ass and I prefer them to some of
the thick clubs I've come across.  They don't stretch your rectum to
painful proportions, yet you still get that satisfied feel of penetration.
He reached down and took that magic wand in his hand and began stroking it,
revealing a set of huge, egg-shaped balls suspended loosely in a scrotal
pouch that was so big you almost expected to see drawstrings.

   "I don't know why but I've been horny all day," he purred in that sexy
radio voice.  "Maybe it's your doing."

   I fished out my dick, which was a struggle because it had already gone
full mast.  My shorts and underwear pulled painfully at my pubes, but I got
it out and took it in hand because the urge to stroke was now rampant in
me.

   He sat down in his chair and continued stroking his cock, which was now
adding some length due to its increasing rigidity.  He spread his legs so I
could see those massive testicles nestled in the V of his thighs.  I swear,
I could almost smell the musk coming off those balls.

   "Let me get into a more comfortable position," he whispered, and with
that, he did the thing that guys online sometimes do that drives me
absolutely wild with lust.  He slid a little lower into his chair and
raised his feet, propping them on the desk either side of the cam.  Now not
only was his crotch visible but the crack of his ass.  And if I used my
imagination I could almost see his hole, nested amid a thatch of butt hair.


   That ache you get when you're crazed with sexual need - on a scale of 1
to 10 mine was about 15.  I wished to God I could have thrust my head
through the computer screen and plowed my lapping lips into that butt
crack, then slurp those musky balls and cram that cock down my throat.  At
this rate I would not last another 30 second - I needed to spew.  Right,
now!

   But Brandon had something else in store for me.  My heart nearly stopped
when I saw it.

   He spread his legs even wider, so I actually could see his brown cherry,
and then he licked the middle finger of his left hand, fingered his asshole
a moment, then slid it all the way in.  His eyes closed and he began
jerking his cock faster and faster, as that finger plunged into his fun
hole faster and faster, twisting this way and that, no doubt tickling his
happy button, causing his balls to draw up against his body as he prepared
to empty them all over his chest.  I couldn't take it any longer.  I threw
myself into the orgasm and poured out spurt after spurt of thick, creamy
cum.  At the same time Brandon moaned and a thick rope of cum shot out of
his cock, spreading a slippery trail across his skinny chest.  More blasts
of sperm erupted as he finger continued to plunge into and out of his anus.
He arched his back and yet another blast of cum spurted.  It was such a
turn-on that for the first time in my life, I had another orgasm right on
top of the previous.  This time the cum was thin and watery.  I shot it
into my hand, where it mixed with the pearly spew of just a few moments
ago.

   He held that position for another 30 seconds or so.  And then his eyes
opened and he lowered his feet, pulling his finger out of his ass.  His
chest was covered in jizz, which reflected wetly in the glow of his
monitor. He waved his finger under his nose and it wrinkled.

   "Whew!  I've got to go wash off that stinky little fella," he said.

   "Wait, Brandon - " but it was too late.  The connection went dark before
I could say another word.

   I've called up his account a couple of times since, but he's never been
on.  I think the kids these days don't do PCs - they're too mesmerized by
their mobile phones.  But he hasn't answered any of my emails either, which
suggests this was a one-time show, maybe because my flattery had gotten him
so horny.

   Oh well.  Good thing for webcam capture software.  I can watch Brandon
any time I like.

   See?  I'm not a technophobe.

   --

   Check out Part 1 of my erotic novel "One Day in the Life of Josh" at
Amazon.  It's only 99 cents, but I guarantee you'll get more than a
dollar's worth of hot action.  Follow this link:
http://www.amazon.com/ONE-DAY-LIFE-JOSH-PART-ebook/dp/B014ORH9YE/ref=sr_1_1
?ie=UTF8&qid=1450023605&sr=8-1&keywords=one+day+in+the+life+of+josh

   I've collected all my Nifty daddy-son stories into a single volume,
"Daddy's Boys," on Kindle.  Take a look at it here:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CC7PZO4

   Let's hook up on twitter.  I'm at @anonymous_sexie .  Shhhh!  Don't tell
anyone.

   Email comments to clover2209@yahoo.com
   

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<1st attachment end>


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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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