So far, I've gone through life without a care in the world. At least that's how it's been for the first 20yrs of my life. For me, shit that others have to stress themselves over, I've blown right past with ease. It's just the way it is, the way it's always been. I'm a privileged young man with well-to-do parents, and life can be pretty sweet. But just like everything else in life, it doesn't matter how sweet things are; you're always going to find a reason to bitch about something.

Unfortunately, most of the time, whatever you find to bitch about usually lands you in worse shit than whatever the reason was that started you bitching in the first place. I know; it can all get a bit confusing. That's how I got to the place that I'm at today. Instead of being grateful for my lot in life, I put myself in a crazy confusing place.

I'm the second oldest of four siblings. Our parents may not be in the top one percent club, but trust me, they aren't that far back. My father is a tenured physics professor at a university that shall remain nameless, the same university that I currently attend. Now, the old man does well for himself, but my mother, the one with all the money? She owns generational wealth. She owns/operates the biggest real estate agency in the city, which is also considered to be one of the top three in the state. An agency that she inherited from my grandfather when he passed. So, saying that things for myself and my siblings come relatively easy is a gross understatement.

My older sister works right alongside my mother. Right out of college with a degree in banking and finance, she got her real estate license, and between the two of them, they carry some pretty hefty bank accounts.

Now don't get me wrong, our parents do make us work. But it's usually doing bullshit jobs that, in their minds, are designed to humble us and to teach us the value of hard work, supposedly. But come on? Really?

The summer before my senior year of high school, my old man sets me up with a job on his buddy's horse ranch. My job was to ride the horses around all summer. To this day, I still don't know what the purpose of aimlessly riding those horses around was for. Exercise the horses? Who knows? And like I said in my opening paragraphs, I fucked up. I questioned this so-called work that I was doing with the horses.

The next day they had me digging two holes five feet deep, then taking the dirt from hole A and filling in hole B with it. Then vice versa with the other mound of dirt. I should have kept my fucking mouth shut. Luckily the next day, I was back to riding horses.

The rest of the summer, I would arrive at the stables, get on the horse that I was assigned to for the day, then I would ride around the ranch for a few hours. Whenever I got bored, I'd swim at the lake while the horse would graze. Such a hard-humbling job. Did I forget to mention the part about banging the guy's daughter? Yeah, there was that perk too.

The real reason for the job was to pay for the entire year of insurance on my car. The car that my parents had bought me for my senior year. So, as you can imagine, I've had a hard life. Now I know what some of you may be thinking, and fuck you, it's hard living my life.

Ok, maybe it's not.

My current humbling job is working for my older sister. She owns an upscale apartment complex with some relatively exclusive upscale tenants. Exclusively upscale in that they can afford the crazy rent she charges them. And they still have the money for all the extras. One of the extras she offers is a cleaning/concierge service, and that's where I come in. A struggling college student, I'm not struggling, but you get the idea.

Imagine me, a guy that stands five-six, all of 145lbs, shoulder-length hair and a well-toned body, a maid/glorified errand boy. I'm a maid with three apartments that I'm assigned to from 8 am till noon. That's right, and if I want to keep driving my badass little Mustang Cobra around, this is my penance for being in my position of privilege.

Honestly? I don't care. It keeps my parents off of my ass, and I get way more than a hot car for keeping them happy. Plus, my sister is cool as fuck; she's been my best friend all of my life, so the three units I do are super easy, and they tip well.

One unit, in particular, belongs to a military guy. I never see him and his errand requests always intrigue me. I can't wait to get my very own place because this guy inspires me. His unit is decked out with all the bells and whistles of what I imagine my apartment will be, a man's apartment. But, first, I have to get out of the hell hole I'm currently living in, my parents' house.

I embellish; still, the struggle is real, mostly in my mind but real nonetheless. I love my parents and my siblings, but damn they get on my nerves. The siblings are in their teens and attending high school. They are the opposite of Mary and me, my older sister.

My siblings are fraternal twins, one minute they are best friends, the next; they can't stand each other. The fight is never-ending with those two. Then there are my parents. They are getting older, and sometimes they scream, what! Multiple times before the other understands what the other is saying. It's like, fucking hell! Get a hearing aid already!

Back to my favorite apartment, the real reason I love the military guys' place is that he goes away for weeks at a time. So, when I want to get away from the house, I go there. If I want to bang a chick, I go there. Suppose I have intense homework, reading, whatever; there's a ball game on his badass TV?

I go there.

I have the keys to his place. And my sister always knows when he's going to be gone and for how long. Honestly, I think that she's hot for the guy, but according to her, he's either playing hard to get. Or the military doesn't give him enough downtime. What the fuck ever. I could care less as long as I can run away to his apartment from time to time.

Then this happens...

~~~

Finals had just ended, and GI Joe wasn't coming back until Monday. It was the Friday before. I decided that I needed some alone time so I wouldn't be taking my flavor of the month with me. I love my girls, but I can't seem to find the one that I want to see every day, much less month after month. Know what I mean?

I checked in with Mary to be sure that her toy soldier wasn't coming back early.

"Look, you little fucker, if you get caught, you're fired! I will fire you, don't think I won't." Mary's threats always rang hollow because she loved me and would never follow through on them. Not with me, her favorite little brother.

"Calm down. I won't mess up your boy's place. You know I always leave it spotless, so stop. Come on, has ever said anything to you??" Mary just stared at me as I started with my cute little brother's smile and con-job.

"Just make sure you don't leave any evidence, you little jerk." Then, with her parting words, I just smiled and went on my way.

Walking into the apartment, I could feel the tension leaving my body. I slipped my shoes off, and I put the pizza down on the table. Then, I made my way to the fridge to put my beer away.

I had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, none whatsoever. Then as I was putting the beer in the fridge, I froze. Bent over with my head in another man's fridge, it suddenly felt like someone was watching me. Something was wrong. Something was off.

"Who the fuck are you? And why are you in my fridge?" The sound of that voice almost made me shit myself right on the spot. A strong, deep voice booming across the living room. I slowly started to stand up.

"Slow kid, take it real slow." I wasn't about to make any sudden movements. I did just as he said.

"Turn around, kid." Then, hearing that voice again, I made sure to move slow.

I started turning around, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry. At that precise moment, whatever manhood I had inside of me skipped right out the fucking door without me. In front of me was this big guy, and I don't mean fat. I mean big, well over six feet, dripping wet and wearing only a towel around his waist.

Oh, and did I mention he was pointing a pistol at me! So yeah, there was that.

He tilted his head to the side, and he could see that the only thing in my hand was a six-pack of beer.

"Kid, who are you, and why are you stealing my beer?" I was frozen still but somehow managed to respond.

"My name is David, and I'm the guy that takes care of your errands and your apartment, sir." I was scared shitless.

How can I say that? Honesty? I can say that because I know for a fact that if I had any shit inside of me; It would've been running down the side of my leg right about then. I was fucking scared!

"How old are you?" Fuck me, more questions, I thought to myself. So this behemoth has a pistol pointed at me, and he wants to know my age?

"Twenty, sir, I'm 20, and I'm so sorry that I'm in your home," I responded immediately.

Instantly and just like that, I became a blubbering idiot. I went off on a tangent explaining who I was, who my sister was, why I was in his apartment, and begging him to, "Please, please, for the love of God, please don't shoot my dumb ass!"

'Holy fuck, kid, shut the fuck up already, or I will shoot you," he said with a look of disgust.

With those words and with one fluid motion, he pulls the gun to him while at the same time pulling back on the slide, ejecting the bullet in the chamber.

I watched in awe as the bullet popped out and was amazed at the ease with which he snagged it out of the air while releasing the magazine from his weapon and then catching the magazine as it dropped. He caught both. With the same fucking hand. The only thing I could think to myself at that moment was, fuck me, I'm about to be killed by a pistol ninja.

"Don't just stand there with your thumb up your ass, kid; bring me a beer." His words breaking my trance as he turned to go into his room.

Without any hesitation, I put the six-pack on the counter, pulling out a single beer, and made my way after him. I was not prepared for what I was to see next.

I turned the corner and went into the room. There stood a man with a body that reminds you of Greek sculptures, drawings of Greek Gods. The kind of body that I most certainly have never, ever seen before in my life.

Not that I go around checking out guys, much less naked guys. I mean, I have been in my share of locker room showers after gym class, soccer practices, and I've seen my share of naked guys. But I've never really looked at naked guys.

Right at that moment, I was looking. In front of me was a giant of a man with his back to me. The towel no longer around his waist but over his head as he dried off.

The body I was looking at was toned, defined. This big man's muscles, starting at his calves, up to his large hamstring/thigh muscles, his ass, all of it! I swear to you; he had an ass that looked like it could break your fist if you punched it. Nothing on this man was small, nothing.

All of that, but what caught my attention. What I started to fixate on were the scars on him, so many scars. Then he turns around and fuck me; no, don't fuck me. You know what I mean!

He turns around, and I still don't understand it. Why I did, what I did next. To this day, I don't know why I did it...I gasped.

Like a high school girl watching a movie where the main character takes off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest, I gasped. Except I wasn't a high school girl, and this was no movie. I didn't gasp at the sight of his chest, which, on its own, was beyond impressive.

No, what had taken my breath away was between his legs. This man's cock. I mean to tell you, his cock was like no other cock I had ever seen before. Not that I make it a habit of looking at cocks. Stop! I know what you're thinking. I'm some secret cock watcher. I swear to you that I had never really looked at a guy's cock until that moment. No, not really, really looked. At that moment, I was looking. The length, the thickness, it was impressive, and it wasn't even hard.

"You have an ID kid?" His voice broke my stare, and I looked up.

"Yes, sir," I replied as I immediately started reaching into my back pocket and pulling out my wallet.

I was in a daze at that point. A voice in my head was screaming at me to get the fuck out of there! But my body wasn't listening, and I just kept walking towards him. Finally, I pulled out my ID and handed it to him.

"So, you're the cleaning lady, huh? I'll be damned all this time I thought you were a woman." As soon as he said those words, I could feel my face turning red. I knew I was blushing, hard.

"Yes, sir, I'm the cleaning guy." Standing next to him, I had to look up to look into his eyes.

"Nah, that's not what I said. Try again." He shot back; he wasn't going to let it go.

"Yes, sir, I'm the cleaning..." I hesitated. I looked down at the floor, then I felt his hand on my chin, lifting my face.

"I didn't catch that; what did you say?" He asked again. He was a big guy, and I didn't want to piss him off. Not any more than I already had.

"Yes, sir, I'm your cleaning lady." A big smile came across his face, and for some strange reason, I felt better with that smile, or at the very least, I felt like I wasn't going to die.

Then I started moving my gaze from his face to that massive chest that put it at almost eye level with my height. The definition and muscle tone, it was amazing. But the scars. I couldn't take my eyes off of the scars. Some were longer than others, and some were wider than others; some were quarter-sized dots. But, all of that and his muscle mass, I was just in awe of it all.

Now think of a dog that's been beaten too many times. Now, think of that same dog as his master reaches out to pet him. The dog always jumps, always. That was me. I almost jumped out of my skin when he extended his arm out to me to return my license.

"Whoa, easy kid, easy," he chuckled at me, trying to calm my nerves

With the sound of his voice and the feel of the palm of his hand brushing across my face and pushing my hair back behind my ear, then looking up at him as he gently pulled my hair from the back of my head, causing me to tilt my face upwards. My mind went blank.

Before I could process what was happening, this man was lowering his face to mine. What was he doing? What was I doing? What the fuc...before I could finish the final thought, his lips were pressing against mine.

My mind instantly went blank. I had lost all sense of reality. I'm not a gay man, or I've never thought of myself as one. Nor am I some scared, twisted homophobe. A few of my friends are gay, and it's not like we are back in the dark ages. But, still. This?

As he pushed his tongue into my mouth, I welcomed it. My eyes closed, and the fullness of his lips on mine was overwhelming. I started swirling our tongues together. My reaction was becoming more and more passionate the longer the kiss went on. Then, as quickly as the kiss began, it was over.

He pulled back, and I was left like the female characters in the old western movies my father loves to watch. You know the ones. Where the big cowboy steps up to kiss the woman, first, he slides his arm behind the woman's waist.

The lady, always seemingly caught off guard, grabs onto the cowboy's biceps as she gazes up longingly. The hero drops his mouth on hers and kisses her passionately. Then just as fast as the kiss begins, it ends.

The hero releases the kiss and pulls back, holding on to her, arm behind her waist, making sure that the power of his kiss doesn't knock her over. Instead, the stunned heroines' arms drop to her side as her face remains tilted up at her cowboy's downward gaze, frozen for that one moment in time.

That was me in that moment and time.

Except I didn't let go of those big biceps. Never in my life had I been overwhelmed with such emotion. It was slamming me from all directions. But reality always has a way of bringing you back from the edge. His voice did just that.

"You interrupted my shower, so I'm going to go finish that. Why don't you go put that beer away?" He started to walk off. Then he stopped himself, reaching back and taking my hand in his. I was amazed at how his hand dwarfed mine.

"Look," he paused, then continued. "If you're still here when I get out, we'll see where this takes us. If you're not here, well, tell your sister that you don't want to clean my apartment anymore, and that's that." With those final words, he released my hand and walked towards the bathroom to his shower.

I was in awe. No, not at the sight of that body. I was in awe of that kiss and how this man had gone from one extreme to the other.

He had gone from; I'm going to end you right here and now! To suddenly the softest, most gentle person I had ever met. But, again, my emotions and sensations were off the charts. As I heard the water come back on in the shower, I was still frozen.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the fuck out of here!" I was badgering myself in a low mumble as I started to pace back and forth.

Then I stopped pacing and started walking. Slowly. But my legs weren't taking me in the direction of the front door to leave. No, I was walking towards the bathroom and the sound of the running water.

As I stepped through the bathroom door, the soldier was there, holding himself up with his fists against the shower wall. He was hunched down, allowing the water to cascade down the back of his neck, motionless. I started walking towards him slowly. His body never changed position as he turned his head. He was opening his eyes, watching me.

I wasn't thinking. I don't know what I was doing except taking off my socks as I kept moving towards him. He just kept staring at me, watching as my socks came off. I lifted my shirt over my head, dropping it on the floor. Then as I took a deep breath, I slid my jeans and boxers down, stepping out of them as I finally reached the open shower.

The feeling of being naked in front of him was intoxicating. His unit had an open shower design, so there was no shower curtain or sliding glass door to push back. The hot water hit me as I stepped in between him and the shower wall.

The soldier had moved back, letting me in between those big arms then pinning my back against the shower wall with his body. Instantly his body covered me from the hot water then his mouth was on mine again.

This time I wasn't going anywhere. Wherever "this" was going to take me or whatever "this" was, I was all in now.

I keep using the same word only because I can't think of a better description. I was genuinely overwhelmed, feeling myself being pulled in close. Dwarfed by his large size, those large hands wrapped around my back and waist, then sliding down, cupping and massaging my ass. I felt that his kiss was never going to end. And my passion had now disarmed any doubt in me as to what I was doing.

As he pulled back, he lifted me with one arm and cradled my naked body with one hand under my ass as I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist.

As he turned off the water, he slid his other hand behind my back, and his mouth was on me again. He carried me back to his bed, and he cleared his bags off his bed. I clung to him with my legs still locked around his waist. My arms around the back of his neck. I had moved from kissing his mouth to kissing his chin, his throat, and his shoulders.

Who the fuck was I? This thought repeating itself in my mind through it all.

I was filled with lust and passion at that moment, and I hadn't noticed the big cock that was pressing against me. Then this man stood up, leaving me on the bed writhing like an addict in need of a fix. That's when I caught a good look at it again, and it had changed from the first look that I got at it. Now it was engorged and fully erect. This thing was huge. He was reaching inside his nightstand for lubricant. That was the moment that my lust turned to fear. As he positioned himself between my legs, pushing them apart, I was frozen again.

Again, my brain was screaming at me! Again, to get the fuck out of there and again, my body ignored it. He positioned himself on his knees up against me, my legs spread wide, dangling over his thighs. His massive cock and balls on top of mine smothering my modest manhood. I lifted my head and watched him reaching down to slather his cock with lube. Finally, when he doled out a big glob onto his three fingers, my eyes got wide.

"Don't be scared," he said in a soft, low voice.

"I-I-I've never done this," my voice trembling as I whispered.

He just smiled a gentle smile. "Good, but don't worry because I have."

His large body slid back and then leaned forward, and his mouth was on me again. I started to lose myself with his kisses as he reached down between us, his fingers on my opening. Then with one steady, firm push, I felt one finger slip inside of me, making its way into my virgin hole.

As he kissed me and massaged my opening with his finger, another slid in, then the third. I was losing my mind. I could feel the pre-cum oozing from the tip of my cock and my breathing becoming soft moans. He was finger fucking me ever so slowly, ever so gently. I was entering the early stages of bliss.

Then just like that, his fingers were out of me. He had pushed that big glob of lubricant deep inside me with those big fingers of his, and at that point, I was well lubed.

He lifted off of me and was looking down at his cock. He slid his hands behind my knees, pushing them back as far as they would go. I've always been limber, and my knees were easily pinned back against the mattress. He had me folded in half.

I moved my arms to hold my legs as wide and as far back as they could go. I had never been fucked before, but I knew what position he wanted me in. It's a position I want my girls in when I intend to bottom them out. I bit my bottom lip, understanding all too well what he was going to do.

"Just relax, breathe, and don't tense up. If you tense up, it will hurt worse. Trust me." With the sound of that deep, gentle voice, I did exactly as he said. Understanding that "It will hurt worse" meant that I was going to hurt no matter what. As he placed the head of his cock against my virgin hole, I suddenly understood just how big that thing was.

"Relax, trust me, babe." Then, just as I was about to nod to him, I felt it. The pressure was unbelievable, and the pain was sharp.

"Ohhh...Oh... Ungghh." No sooner had I let those sounds escape my mouth, he stopped pushing. My hands were now grabbing hold of his forearms as I held on for dear life.

 "Shhh...Tell me when it stops." At first, I didn't know what he was talking about, but then I could feel it. The pain was leaving, and an ache was replacing it.

I nodded, then whispered, "ok." Then he pushed again. A moment passed, and again, I whispered, "ok." We repeated the process over and over. Then finally, his cock was buried deep inside of me. I could feel his balls pressing against the bottom of my ass.

Then he slowly started to slide that marvelous thing out of me. My inner walls were holding on to his cock tight, and the sensation that it was giving me was making me crazy.

Just as the head of his cock was about to come out, he pushed back inside of me. Deep. In one solid stroke. That was it. I can't tell you what happened next sound by sound, word for word. I can only tell you that I made sounds and noises that I've never heard any girl make.

Not by any girl that I had ever fucked. I was moaning, I was groaning, I was whimpering, I was yelping. I even called out to God almighty. Use your imagination, this man was fucking me, and he was fucking me well.

I was on my back; I was on my side being spooned. I was on my knees being fucked like a bitch in heat. Then, finally, I was on top of him using the hip action that I'd learned all those years ago riding horses. In every position, he would bottom me out with that huge massive cock. Hitting my spot over and over. Through it all, I came three blissful times, and I thought that he would never stop.

Then, finally, with one last roll of my hips, he blew his thick, hot creamy cum. Deep inside my bowels. He grabbed my hips and slammed me down hard and, at the same time pushing his hips up, burying his cock deeper inside me as I winced while one last yelp escaped me.

I could feel his cock throb and begin to twitch. The sensation of warm liquid filling my insides. It was as if his cock was projectile vomiting deep inside of me. My head was hanging back, eyes closed.

The only thing that would've made it perfect would've been for me to have cum at that very moment with him. But, instead, as the last strand of his semen drooled out of his cock, I collapsed on top of him.

Before my eyes closed, I caught a glimpse of the clock on the far wall. By my calculations, I had just been fucked for well over two hours. My stretched, dilated hole ached. The feeling was slightly achy but surprisingly satisfying.

"What's your name?" I whispered as I tried to catch my breath. "And how old are you?" I moaned, still trying to catch my breath.

"Thomas, my name is Thomas. I'm 28," he replied as he nibbled on my ear lobe, his warm breath on my neck making me quiver.

"Ohhh... Thomas, what have you done to me?" I replied in a low perverse moan. I was scared, so very scared and thoroughly fucked and still so, so turned on.

"I've done what you've always wanted, precious," he responded just before starting to suckle my neck.

His response was just like him, perfect. I've done what you've always wanted, precious—his last words echoing in my mind.

I never would've thought that I could have given myself to a man, ever. Yet, here I was, with a man's cock going limp inside of me and his seed about to leak out of me.

He gently rolled me off of him, and his cock slowly slid out of me. Right then, in the silence of the moment, I could feel and hear a gentle, soft gurgle. It was coming from my no longer virgin hole. The sensation and the sound made me blush. My face suddenly felt warm, very warm.

But I was on my side now, and he was spooning me, pulling me into him. I could feel his cock nestled against my ass, and I could feel the slow drip of his seed slowly escaping from my freshly fucked hole. This giant of a man dwarfed me, yet I felt very safe, very cared for right then.

My mind started to drift as I kept thinking how all this time, I thought he was some older man, he wasn't. All this time, he thought I was a woman; I wasn't.

Now, as far as he's concerned, I'm still his cleaner, and as far as I'm concerned, well, I don't know what I am.