****** Johnny's Boi by loopy ******
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Johnny's Boi


With the exception of minor details, this is a completely true story.

I'm in love with Johnny. I'm in love with him in a crazy-making way - where
thoughts of him haunt me no matter where I am or what I may be doing. He is
never far from my mind, and throughout any normal day, there is a feeling in
the pit of my stomach that constantly reminds me of my longing for him.

Unfortunately, Johnny is not in love with me. I am painfully aware of this,
although he is incredibly sweet and kind with me. We have sex together - when
he has the time. Incredible sex. Sex that is unlike any that I have ever had
outside of the fantasies in my head. And we talk with each other regularly -
long talks that at times take us late into the night. From Johnny's
perspective, we are friends - friends who have sex together. And as much as I
crave something much more than this from him, I fear that telling him so would
make him so uncomfortable that he might feel the need to terminate our
friendship as it stands now - and that would kill me, I'm sure.

He knows it anyway - that I'm in love with him. We've never discussed it, but I
know that he knows. How could he not? I salivate like Pavlov's dog in his
presence. After he kisses me, I practically float around the room. And it makes
him smile - that cool, beautiful, evil-looking smile. When we've had sex
together, and he kisses me before he leaves my apartment, his smile speaks
volumes about what is going on in his mind. On one level, Johnny's smile shows
satisfaction with himself - because he knows he has experienced a good time,
and has created an incredible time for me as well. But on another level, his
smile says, "I know that I have you - I know that I own you". And he's right.
Johnny owns me. He knows that my intense longing for him gives him power over
me. And better still, the power he has over me creates the most awesome sexual
feelings within both of us - because Johnny is a dominant top, and I am a total
bottom.

I met Johnny in a chat room on the internet. I have met many men on the
internet for casual, one-time sexual encounters, but Johnny was instantly
different from any that I had spoken to before. For one thing, upon having run
into each other in the chat room, we didn't immediately set up a time to meet
together. Rather, we simply chatted for a while, in an almost completely non-
sexual manner. And we did the same the following evening, and the one after
that as well - each conversation growing longer and providing more depth than
the one before. I learned that he is 25 years old - I am 29 - and that, like
me, he is a fairly small-built but in-shape man. I also learned that he likes
to be "a little bit dominant", as he put it. The strange thing is, although our
conversations at times made reference to sexuality, they were much more focused
on simply getting to know one another - which, for some reason, made me feel
very drawn to him sexually. The fourth evening in a row, when I saw him in the
chat room, I wanted so badly to know more about his sexual desires - but
somehow, I felt that asking him about them after having established a
connection with him that was based on something deeper than simple gut-level
sex, almost seemed inappropriate. So instead, I entered the chat room with a
different nickname, so that he wouldn't know that it was me, and I started up a
private conversation with him. And we talked about watersports...and smelling
and licking his dirty uncut cock and his sweaty asshole. We talked about
domination, and humiliation. We talked about things I had long fantasized
about, but that I had never really experienced in real life. And it was that
information, coupled with all that I had learned about him over the past few
days, that made me know he was perfect for me. I had found the most perfect
man. Somehow, I felt that Johnny was someone who I could trust enough to truly
experience the kind of sex I had always wanted, but never had the courage to
try.

I exited the chat room, and re-entered using my regular nickname. Johnny and I
spoke privately for a while, and then agreed to meet together the following
evening - for sex. I didn't tell him that I knew about his deep sexual desires.
As far as he knew, all that I knew about his sexual needs was that he likes to
be "a little bit dominant". And he knew, of course, that I wanted to submit to
him - but nothing more.

I could have melted when I saw him. He is an incredibly cute, butch, stocky,
beautiful man. We sat beside each other on my couch and talked for a while -
just like we had done on the internet. But then, after a while, there were a
few seconds of silence, and the expression on his face slightly altered. He
looked in my eyes, glanced down at his feet, and then back into my eyes,
pointing his finger at the floor. And I knew that it was time for me to kneel
before him - to take my rightful place in his presence. It felt so good to be
there.

Johnny placed his hand on the back of my head, forcing my face into his crotch.
I could feel the hard-on forming in his jeans. "Suck me, bitch", he said, and
his words sent a bolt of pleasure through my entire body.

He stood up, and I practically ripped his jeans from his body. He rubbed his
cock all over my face, leaving smears of precum as I tried desperately to pull
his cock through my lips. When he finally allowed me to take him into my mouth,
I sucked him down my throat with incredible passion and lust. His words kept
encouraging me, "Yeah, suck that cock. You like that cock?"

"Mmm hmm", I responded, staring up into his eyes and he forced his cock deeper
into my throat.

"Keep sucking, queer". And I worshipped his cock dutifully.

Johnny placed his hand on my forehead, pushing me down to a lying position on
the floor. He squatted over my face, brushing his asshole over my nose. His ass
is the most incredibly shaped, round ass I have ever seen, and having him sit
on my face felt like pure heaven to me. He was clean, of course - I could tell
he had showered before coming to my apartment. I wondered, as I licked him and
sucked at his hole, if I would ever be allowed to get to know him well enough
to tell him that I wanted to lick it when it was dirty. Without the shower.

Then the thought hit me that perhaps, this would be the only time I would see
him. Most of the men I meet on the internet for casual sex, I see one time
only. Johnny seemed so different from all of them - but what if he wasn't? What
if I never got to see him again? These thoughts brought me to the realization
that, if this was the only time I would see him; I needed to make the encounter
memorable. I had never been pissed on in my life, so I knelt before him, looked
up into his eyes and asked him, "Johnny, would you be interested in pissing on
me?"

Johnny's eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. As far as he knew, I had no
reason to know that he was interested in piss play. He didn't speak for a few
seconds, and I wondered if I had tried to move too quickly too fast. My heart
pounded as I waited for his reply. "Maybe", he finally said.

My cock stiffened. "Please?" I asked, my eyes pleading.

He stared down at me for a few seconds, and then moved away from me, waving his
hand as an indication that I should follow. I crawled on my hands and knees
behind him as he walked into my bathroom. He stepped into my bathtub, and I
crawled over the edge, kneeling before him, his cock inches from my face. There
was no doubt in either of our minds where I wanted his piss. I stared at his
beautiful cock as he tried to relax and release the flow of urine. After a few
seconds, a burst of his piss splashed over my face. I opened my mouth, allowing
the warm stream to dance over my tongue and then pour out over my body. The
taste was so powerful, and I looked up into his eyes, allowing myself to feel
the full humiliation of what was occurring. This man standing before me was
pissing into my mouth - and I loved it. "Drink that fucking piss", he whispered
through clenched teeth, and I could tell that he, too, was in ecstasy. I
slurped and swallowed and smelled his piss, overwhelmed by incredible lust. He
jerked his hips back and forth, causing his dick to flop around so that the
stream splashed all over my face and into my hair. He stared into my eyes
coldly as I tried to follow the dancing stream of piss with my lips. "You like
that piss? You like to drink it? That's fucking nasty, bitch". I knew I was
exactly where I belonged, and over and over in my mind, I repeated the words,
"This is so perfect", until it finally came to an end - a few last spurts of
Johnny's piss shooting into my parted lips. I licked the final drop from the
end of his penis, still staring up at him.

"Now suck me", he commanded, pulling my hair and forcing his cock deep into my
throat. I grabbed his ass cheeks with my hands and squeezed wildly as I sucked
him greedily. His cock grew hard and solid, and in a matter of seconds, I could
hear a moan that began deep in his gut, and he thrust his hips back and forth,
violently fucking my face while continuing to hold my hair. "Suck it!" he
yelled. "Suck my fucking cock!"

I completely lost myself in what was occurring - nothing in the world existed
outside of Johnny and his beautiful cock, as he thrust it deeper and deeper
into my throat, his cries of "Suck it, bitch!" growing ever louder. I could
feel his cock pulsing, and then he shouted, "Ah! Ah! Ah! I'm going to fucking
cum!!" I jacked furiously at my own cock as his cream shot down the back of my
throat. A bolt of pleasure shot through my entire body, as my own cum showered
his piss-soaked feet. I could feel all of the tension in his body begin to
relax. His hand still holding my hair, he pulled his cock from my mouth, and
wiped it off over my face and in my hair. Then he pushed my face down to his
feet, and I dutifully lapped them clean of the cum and piss. "Now clean up", he
said, stepping out of the bathtub and leaving the bathroom.

I continued to kneel in the tub for a moment, still smelling his piss while
trying to collect my thoughts. I had never had such an intense sexual
experience in my life, and I wanted to savor it. Finally, I rose up and began
to clean up, as Johnny had commanded. I exited the bathroom and found him
sitting on my couch, fully dressed.

"Did you like it?" he asked with a smile, the edge he had displayed during our
encounter together no longer in evidence. "It was incredible," I said,
practically gushing, and making him smile even more. Once again, Johnny behaved
unlike any man I have ever met casually before - by staying for a while and
chatting with me once the sex was finished. He told me that he had never before
pissed on another man, and I felt pleased and proud to have been his first. We
talked about how our fantasies are similar, and how neither of us had much
experience living them out. It became so clear that we would use each other for
this purpose - to experience our deepest desires - and I felt incredible
relief, knowing that he wanted to see me again. As Johnny left my apartment,
and I watched him drive away, I realized what an incredible man he truly is. He
needs to dominate as much as I need to submit. But he draws a line between
those times when we are talking with each other - when we are absolute equals -
and those times when we are having sex - when he is the Master, and I am the
slave. The more I grow to know Johnny, the more I grow to love both sides of
who he is.

I have known Johnny for several months now, but because he's so busy working
and taking several college classes, I only get to see him once every couple of
weeks or so. I swear to God I could see him every day - willing to provide him
with sexual service, or even just to massage his feet while he studies, or clip
and clean his toe nails, or light his cigarettes and empty his ashtray, or
fetch him beer. But this never happens, and instead, during the days between
when I get to see him, I think about him constantly. It's like he haunts my
mind, at times making it hard to concentrate on what I should be doing at work.
He continues to visit the chat room where we met fairly regularly before he
goes to bed, so I often camp out there in the evening hours, waiting for his
arrival just so I can spend a few moments communicating with him. I am fully
aware of how pathetic this sounds, but my longing for him appears beyond my
control, and chatting with him even for a brief time often provides the "fix" I
crave.

I've met Johnny so many times now, that it would be impossible for me to recall
the exact details of every encounter I've had with him, but suffice it to say
that each time has been absolutely amazing. There are certain encounters,
however, that really stick out in my mind. One in particular is the fifth or
sixth time we got together. Johnny was to have been at my place by 9 p.m., but
called me shortly before that time to say that he was running late. "I haven't
even showered yet", he told me.

"That's fine", I told him, "You don't need to shower - just come as you are".

"But I'm dirty", he told me. And then he suggested, "Maybe I can shower at your
place". I agreed, and soon he arrived at my apartment.

But the moment he walked in, he started kissing me - passionately and
beautifully. We continued kissing and rubbing our hands over each other's
bodies, becoming wild with lust. As we started ripping our clothes from each
other, any thoughts of showering were clearly far from his mind - and I was
perfectly fine with that.

He pushed me to my knees and stuck his cock into my mouth. I stuck my tongue
under his foreskin, and discovered something there - something a little bit
hard, that I sucked into my mouth. I'm circumcised, so although I've heard of
cock cheese, I have never actually seen it - or had it in my mouth, as I did at
that moment. I felt slightly ill at the thought, but Johnny continued to fuck
my mouth, saying, "Suck it bitch. Take my fucking cock, you queer. Lap at it
like the fucking dog you are". I swallowed Johnny's cock cheese, finding a few
more lumps as I pulled at the base of his cock with my hand, causing his
foreskin to pull back from the head of his penis. I tried not to gag as I
swallowed these down as well. Cock cheese - it seemed so disgusting. But Johnny
is so amazing to me - I would take anything from his body if I knew it would
please him. I wondered if he knew the cheese was there. Was he aware I'd taken
the filth from his cock into my body?

Johnny grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to my bed, pushing me towards it
and saying, "Lie down, bitch". He pulled off his muscle shirt and tossed it
onto the bed beside me, and then crawled over my face, his incredible ass
towering over me. He began to lower himself as if to sit on my nose, saying,
"Just smell it".

The lighting in my bedroom was dim, but even so, I could see light traces of
shit and tiny chunks of toilet paper on Johnny's ass just before his hole
pressed against my nose. And it smelled like shit. It was the most disgusting
and beautiful moment, to smell the stench and feel the stickiness of his shit
as he wiped it over my nose.

I began to groan as I breathed in his stench. My cock was pulsing wildly.
"Smell my hole", Johnny commanded, "I'll wipe it all over your face". He began
to move around on my face, using me like toilet paper. It felt so right to be
there. As sick as it smelled, I was intoxicated by the stench. I fought to keep
from gagging as he continued to say, "Keep sniffing. Fucking stinks, right? You
like that fucking smell? You like it, don't you faggot?" Every time I'm with
Johnny, there is a moment when I lose myself in what is occurring between us -
where all that exists is Johnny and me and the sex we are having together. In
that moment, as Johnny wiped his filthy ass over my nose and my face, he could
have done anything to me, and I would have taken it from him. He could have
farted, and I would have breathed it in like my life depended on it. He could
have pressed his filthy hole against my lips, and grunted out a log of shit,
and I would have eaten it for him. I would have become his toilet - there would
have been no question in my mind. I was so lost, that my mind would not have
had the capacity to question anything Johnny did to me. I am completely at his
mercy when he gets me to that place. If he only knew it.

"Now lick it", he ordered, the sound of his voice snapping me out of my trance.
I began to lap at his slimy hole, feeling a slight grittiness on my tongue.
Once again, I fought to keep from gagging. What I was doing was so sick - so
base and disgusting. But it was amazing and beautiful as well. Never before had
I felt such a mix of revulsion and ecstasy. I had fantasized about tasting a
man's shit for so many years - and now here I was, with the most incredible man
sitting on my face, using my tongue to clean up his asshole. "Lick it all
clean. Fucking taste that hole." I lapped at it like a hungry dog. I used my
teeth to scrape over his hole, pulling small chunks of dried shit and toilet
paper onto my tongue and swallowing them down. "Yeah, that's right. Clean it up
good, queer". Never once did Johnny use the word "shit" while telling me to
smell him or to lick him clean. It was almost as if he wanted to deny to
himself what he was making me do.

Grabbing my hair once again, he pulled me from the bedroom and dragged me into
the bathroom, giving me a shove towards the tub. Dutifully, I crawled in, and I
lay on my back, looking up towards him. He climbed up onto the edges of the
bathtub, one foot on either side, towering above me. Fuck, I loved seeing him
like that - standing over me, seeming so powerful and in control. I stared up
into his face as he looked down at me, waiting for the flow of his warm piss to
begin. Finally, his urine splashed down on my body, first all over my chest,
and then up to my neck and into my face, streaming into my open mouth. "Drink
my fucking piss, you bitch", and I swallowed it down like his human urinal,
pulling at my cock in pure ecstasy as I did so. His piss seemed to go on
forever, and he continued to spray it up and down over my body, in my face, on
my chest, and down onto my cock as I stroked it. "Do you like to stink like my
fucking piss? Huh? Do you like it, fucker? Tell me you like my piss!"

"I love your piss!" I screamed out, as he sprayed the last few spurts into my
face. I was in fucking heaven.

Johnny jumped down from the edge of the tub, and turned his body so his ass was
towards my face. He sat in the puddle of piss on my chest, moving his ass
around to soak some of it up. Then he moved backwards, pushing his piss-soaked
ass onto my face, and sliding around in the wetness. "Lick me!" he ordered, and
I lapped at his hole and his wet ass cheeks as he slid around wildly. Together,
we jerked our cocks as he ground his ass in my face, shouting, "Lick it up!
Lick it up, filthy bitch! Lick the piss from my ass!"

In unison, we began groaning and shouting, "Ah! Ah!" and I could feel his warm
cum spraying over my chest and onto my cock, as I began to shoot my load. "This
is so fucking good!" I screamed, as I felt spurt after spurt of his cum hit my
body. And then he relaxed, for a moment, allowing the full weight of his body
to rest on my face. I could still smell his ass - piss and shit - and I
wondered if I had ever felt so humiliated and yet so incredibly satisfied in my
entire life.

After a few seconds, Johnny raised himself up, and looked down at me with a
smile. "Let's shower", he said, holding out his hand to help me up. We showered
together and laughed, knowing full well that we had created for each other the
most incredible sexual feelings. It was so great to know that I had once again
pleased Johnny.

After Johnny left my apartment, I thought a lot about what had transpired. I
realized that when he had originally called me to say that he hadn't yet
showered, he had done so to see how I would react. When I'd told him to come
over without showering, he realized that I was willing to get a bit dirty with
him. I strongly suspect that after speaking with me, he sat down on the toilet
to take a shit, knowing full well that I would soon have my face in his ass
crack. And as he sat on the toilet, hearing his turds splash into the bowl, he
was trying to decide how well he should wipe himself. Just once? Maybe twice?
It couldn't have been much more than that, as the smell and the taste on his
hole when he later sat down on my face was very much that of raunchy shit. He
had clearly made the choice to have me feed on it.

The following day, as we spoke together in the chat room, Johnny told me that
he felt a bit guilty about our encounter - like perhaps he'd gone too far.
Since Johnny likes me - as a friend - I think sometimes he feels a conflict
between caring about me, and treating me poorly when we have sex together. I
tried to convince him he had no reason to feel bad whatsoever - that being
dominated gives me as much pleasure as dominating me gives him. At the end of
our conversation, Johnny said that he felt more comfortable about the
situation, but to date, he has never again had sex with me when his ass is
dirty. I've suggested to him a couple of times that he come over without
showering, and he has - I've eaten his cock cheese several times now. But
although he has fed me a sweaty hole on these occasions, it has always
otherwise been clean.

There is so much I could write about Johnny. I'm so infatuated with him that I
could surely write an entire book about how he affects my life. My hope is to
continue my adventures with him indefinitely. Should that occur, it is also my
hope to have more stories of these adventures to share with you.

email encouraged: loop_fruit@hotmail.com