O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

How True Love Happened

by webb025

I had a weird experience last Saturday. I had just moved from campus housing to an off-campus apartment in an artsy sort of neighborhood. Since I needed to furnish the place, but didn't exactly have a sizable budget, I went to a big community yard sale, where there was quite a large selection of goods on offer. Among other things, I bought an old and somewhat beat-up desk that a friend of mine helped me get to the apartment. Once I'd cleaned off the outside, I started working on cleaning the drawers. In the bottom drawer, I discovered two manila envelopes, each containing a set of notes. I read the first one I pulled out, which got me all hot and bothered, you'll see why. Then I read the second one, which was clearly written using the same pen and on the same type of notepaper, but in a different handwriting. And when I read that one, I got hotter and harder than I ever had in my life. Here below, in the order I read them, is the contents of each of the two sets of notes. The first one was in a broad, flowery sort of handwriting, with big-looped L's and the occasional heart used to dot an "i":

I'm so happy, so totally in love. I've never known the happiness I have with Jeff. He's so masculine, so perfect. Sometimes when he's sleeping next to me, and I'm too worked up to sleep, I love to just lie there and admire his body, his long brown hair, his beautiful hands, and especially, his feet. When I think he's fast asleep, I'll spend time looking excitedly at the perfection of his incredible feet, and I'll start sniffing and nibbling around his toes. The aroma down there is almost eough to get me off instantly; but I know I can't get off, I have to save my orgasms for HIM. Yes, it's a fetish, but I can't help it. He's my perfect man, and I'm so lucky to have him.

My life is kind of organized around him. We're both students at *** College, but he's the one with the big career up ahead, and I do what I can to help him with his studies. I can't really help him directly, since I'm a bit of a scatterbrain, so I just help him organize his notes, wash his clothes, drive him places, and so on. I may take the next few terms off of school to help him full time, and I may go to work nearby, maybe at the local hamburger joint or discount store. My studies really don't matter, since he's the one with the future. Once I leave school, I'll be totally content just to be his housewife. He's so smart and capable, I'm sure he'll earn enough for both of us.

I'm totally gay and somewhat effeminate, even though it might not show when I'm walking down the street. Well, actually you might guess it from the rainbow design of my tank top that shows off my strong upper body and biceps, and which I usually wear with cut offs that display my muscled legs to best advantage. I know working on my body for HIM has paid off, since I was actually offered a job as an exotic dancer at the gay club Jeff sometimes takes me to show me off. I kind of liked the idea because it offered good money, but Jeff wouldn't let me do it, since he wants me exclusively. Well, almost exclusively, but I'll tell you about that later.

I truly love being totally gay, since it makes it possible for me to have a life with Jeff. I've known him since we were both in the seventh grade in a town about an hour away by car. Also at the college originally from our town are two lesbian friends, Heather and Dana. They live together in the same apartment building we're in, and they are also obviously very much in love. Dana is clearly the head of that household, while Heather is the pretty scatterbrain like me. But Dana is also "man enough" for the both of them. The four of us have known each other all these years, and our relationships have grown over time. Sometimes the four of us will go together to a party or to see a movie.

I love the feeling that I can rely on my man. If I had to rely on myself, I'd be completely lost. And I'm so happy he likes my body. I'm physically bigger than he is, nearly a foot taller in fact, and I work out so I will stay beautiful for him, but even though he's smaller and looks less built, he's much stronger than I'll ever be. As if to prove it, he'll playfully wrestle me onto the floor, pinning me helplessly in some painful position until I surrender. Then he'll climb on top of me and stick his tongue down my throat. For a guy his size, he's sure got a long strong tongue, and he knows how to use it to drive me wild. Or sometimes he'll climb on top of me while I'm lying there helpless, and he'll shove his sneaker or bare foot in my face and order me to lick it. I don't really need his order, I mean it would take all my effort NOT to lick it once he stuck it there. There's something really special about his feet that I love. Sometimes in my fantasies I imagine that worshiping his feet has changed me into a big overgrown puppy, sleeping contentedly next to them.

I'm very happy with my everyday life. On days when I have no classes and I'm working around the house cleaning, dusting and cooking, I don't like to wear clothes. I don't know why, they just feel constraining. And when I know when he's coming home at any moment, I like to get myself hard so he'll see me all sweaty from housework and totally erect when he walks in the door, since I know he likes that.

I mentioned earlier that Jeff sometimes likes having me to himself ALMOST exclusively. On a few occasions, though, he's made an exception. I remember the first time he did it. Jeff has always had a very persuasive way with people. I don't know how he does it, but he seems to be able to make a suggestion that comes from him, say for someone to do something, appear to be the other person's idea, no matter how far out. Late one evening he came home with someone else in tow, actually a well- known member of the school's swim team. The guy had clearly been drinking or something, since he stumbled once or twice on the way into the apartment. Jeff guided him to the stuffed chair in our living room, and plopped him into it; the guy seemed dazed and confused. To my surprise, when Jeff told him to lift his arms so Jeff could pull his shirt off, he immediately did it without changing his expression. He was even taller than I am, and once his shirt was off, I could see he had a beautiful upper body, naturally of the smooth, lithe swimmer variety rather than the football type. I could also see that there was not a body hair to be seen anywhere, on his chest or in his armpits. I thought he might shave it to improve his swimming speed, but then I noticed he hadn't shaved his head, in fact his jet black hair was on the long side, and I realized it wasn't even the season for swim competitions.

Jeff said a few words into his ear, and he stood unsteadily and walked into the bedroom. Jeff told me to come into the bedroom as well. When I got there, I saw that the swimmer had stripped completely naked and was lying stretched out on the bed. I greatly admired his body, and saw that the shaving of his body hair had not been limited to his chest and armpits, but extended to everywhere below his head. Of course with Jeff standing in the doorway, it was HIM I was focused on sexually. After a few words from Jeff, though, I suddenly found the swimmer irresistably beautiful, and he seemed to feel the same way. He and I immediately started to wrap ourselves around each other, kissing and licking like maniacs. I was vaguely aware that Jeff was still standing in the doorway watching, occasionally saying something, but I couldn't really pay attention. Everything on the swimmer was very LONG, and soon we were in a 69 position working on each other's dripping dicks. Just as it seemed we couldn't go any further without exploding, Jeff said something and we stopped.

The swimmer and I both noticed that Jeff was now sitting on the edge of the bed, pants and shoes off, but with his shirt and socks still on, rubbing himself through his boxers. He looked so gorgeous sitting there that the swimmer and I immediately leaped off the bed and got on all fours at his feet, me at his right and the swimmer at his left, and began tugging his socks off with our teeth. Once they were off, each of us worked the incredibly beautiful foot in front of us with our hands, noses and tongues, while Jeff moaned in pleasure. Then, practically in unison, the swimmer and I worked our tongues up Jeff's masculine down-covered legs an inch at a time. I arrived at Jeff's right knee almost exactly when the swimmer got to his left knee, and then we worked our way up Jeff's inner thighs until we both got to his incredible cock. It wasn't nearly as long as either of ours, but it was perfect in every way, much, much better than ours. Finally, our tongues worked either side of his cock, using our skills to bring Jeff to an amazing climax. As he shot load after load, I had to wrestle with the swimmer to get as much as I could down my throat. What we both missed at first, we competed to clean off the floor with our tongues. When we were done, I immediately fell asleep right there on the floor.

When I woke up, the swimmer was gone, and I was in bed with Jeff. He was mussing my hair as if I was a little kid. Which I was, really, his BIG little kid. "So, did you like that, big guy?" he asked. "I've had my eye on that guy for awhile, and I've been working on him for a couple of weeks, and I thought you'd enjoy the change of routine."

"Oh, Jeff," I gushed, kissing him. "It was incredible, but you know I never get tired of whatever you do. Whenever you're here, it's like your being here is your gift to me." He chuckled a bit and continued to stroke my hair. He said something softly and I suddenly had a feeling of total contentment, knowing my life was as perfect as it could be.

So that's the story of the first of our "non-exclusive" sessions. The swimmer came back a few times, sometimes dressed in different costumes under his coat so he could assume different roles in our lovemaking. Once he had on a Roman gladiator outfit, once a girl's dress, once a Superman costume. I never knew you could get any of those for a 6'6" guy. But a few words from Jeff and I always knew what to do when he came over. Later, one or two other guys would come by with Jeff, usually the tall or built athletic type that Jeff enjoys, always with that dazed and confused look the first time, but always totally responsive to Jeff's suggestions. Sometimes I would see them later while walking around on campus, and they would look at me as if they recognized me from somewhere, but couldn't quite remember where. I think one of Jeff's favorite sessions was when he brought in the most built guy I had ever seen at the school -- a musclebound football lineman weighing close to 300 pounds -- and made him imagine he was a slutty, submissive teenage girl that Jeff and I completely pushed around and sexually dominated as if we were gang members. But however exciting these sessions, Jeff has always let me know that whatever we do, it's me he loves.

Jeff is having me write this while he is in the kitchen discussing something important with Dana. He handed me this notepad and told me to describe how I felt about myself and our life together, including our sex life. As you can see, I couldn't imagine being any happier.

Love, [the o is a heart]
Chrissie

The second note is written in a terse, tight handwriting, sometimes hard to read because the writer obviously didn't think penmanship was important, or was in a hurry. When I first glanced at it, I thought it might have been written by Jeff, the friend of the writer of the first note. I wasn't too far into it when I realized who had actually written it:

I'm writing this because I'm concerned with certain things that are happening in my life at the moment, and if anything bad happens I want these things written down so someone will know about it. I may be imagining much of this, but just in case, I need to write this and leave it where someone can find it.

My junior year at *** High School is ending, and I'm preparing my college applications. I've been one of the best students at the school, although I seem to have slipped a bit lately academically, which may just be a preliminary bout of "senioritis", at least I hope so. I've always been very focused as a student, which has helped me learn alot and gotten me an honor or two along the way. And I know from a few short internships that I have a great future ahead of me in field of law. As a result, there are several good school choices I have, but I'm definitely leaning towards *** College. It's pretty prestigious, it has a great prelaw program that is a known as a feeder path to a nearby top-five law school, and best of all, it's located about two hours from home, close enough for the occasional weekend trip, but not that so close that I'd be expected home all the time. Plus I think I can earn a spot on their nationally-ranked rowing team; I've been busily working on my upper body strength to improve my performance on our school's crew, and I'm pretty good.

My concern involves a friend of mine named Jeff. I've known him since Junior High, and back then we were pretty good friends. Although I was more into school athletics than he was, since I'm physically quite more developed, we were both smart, and shared similar interests. Of course that was around the time I first really started to notice girls, and by the time we got to high school I was tight with a really bright and good-looking girl named Heather. What with classes, sports, extracurricular activies, and Heather, there really wasn't much time I had for Jeff. He'd invite me over to his house and I would keep turning him down, since I had other things to do, places to go, and so on. Without trying to sound too snobby, I was really with a different crowd at that point, I guess what you might call the "popular" group, while he hung out with more of the, shall we say, misfit group. He also started to dress in long black clothes all the time, and do weird things with his hair.

As he began to change, he also became the target of ridicule and even some physical pushing around at the hands of some of the school's athletes and natural bullies. You know how it is around eighth and ninth grade, guys' sexual identities are starting to form, and some guys feel threatened by others who are different. And Jeff was emerging as not the most masculine guy at the school. As a result, from time to time I'd find myself intervening to protect him. Most of the athletes grew out of the picking-on phase by the end of this period, although the occasional leftover bully was still around. I was worried that Jeff would resent my involving myself by protecting him, but fortunately it didn't seem to happen. He wouldn't say much, but he was clearly grateful. I think he really looked up to me during that time. I almost felt like I was his big brother in a way.

By the start of sophomore year, he had given up asking me over to his place, but I caught him staring at me on more than one occasion. And when I would see him in the hallway, I noticed that the crowd he was with seemed increasingly skewed towards gothic gay types. That included a bunch of rather faggy guys, as well as a couple of almost comically butch looking -- and acting -- girls, Dana and Bonnie. Although Jeff didn't act as stereotypically gay as the others, he seemingly made no attempt to hide his interest in us bigger guys at the school.

While I'm totally straight, I have nothing against gay people, and there are a couple of them in our "popular" school crowd. But Jeff's group creeps me out. They always seem to be whispering to each other, and have the outward appearance of always plotting something. It almost sounds like a Columbine scenario, you know with the black overcoats and all, except for the overt sexual aspect. Generally I don't see much of Jeff outside of the classes we share; since we are both good students we have generally been on the advanced track all along, and we shared several AP classes this year.

Although I didn't want to do it at first, over time my relationship with Heather has become sexually active. We always use protection and we don't do anything, well, unusual. I'm writing that in the present tense but actually in the last few months things have started changing, and it's part of what I'm worried about and why I'm writing this.

If I can pinpoint a particular time things started getting weird, it was sometime last October as I finished lunch. I started feeling really groggy as I finished my water, and Jeff came over and said he wanted to talk to me about something important, outside the lunchroom. I wasn't in a particular hurry, as I had study hall immediately after lunch, so I left the room with him, stumbling a bit on the way out. That's all I remember until I woke up to find myself sitting in my normal seat in calculus class just as the teacher came in. An hour had sort of disappeared from my life and I had no idea what happened.

I would have asked Jeff about it after class, but I didn't do it, and I don't know why. Either I didn't quite remember the sequence of events then and only pieced it together later, or I did know but for some reason just couldn't ask him about it. It's all a bit fuzzy. But starting around then I would discover that bits and pieces of time would be disappearing on occasion. Fortunately it was never while I was driving or something. I should have seen a doctor about it, but again, I felt I couldn't really tell anyone about it. Maybe it was too embarrassing, or maybe I thought they'd put me into some kind of analysis thing I didn't really have time for, I don't know what. But for some reason, I can write about it now even though I still can't talk about it.

Because I would lose the occasional evening at home, my studies began to suffer somewhat. I could still make some of it up during the day, but even there the occasional spare hour would vanish. I began to wonder about my short-term memory when I came home once and my mom asked, "Is Jeff coming over again tonight?" I was astonished, because he had not been over to see me for like three years, but I pretended not to be surprised and told her I didn't know for sure.

But what really got to me was what was happening with Heather and me. We had been virtually exclusive to each other since the ninth grade. We knew each other perfectly, we felt our love blossoming, and we were planning to go off to *** College together. But right around the period where I started having my mini-blackouts, things changed. I started catching myself in the school locker room glancing at guys. Now every guy checks out the others to see how he's developing compared to his peers, and I'm no exception. But I started noticing more details of their bodies that I'd never really looked at before. I wouldn't say I got sexually excited at my locker or in the shower, no uncontrollable boners or anything, I was just very aware of things I'd always taken for granted before. And in one REALLY weird period of days, I actually snuck around other guys' lockers while they were in the next room showering, looking for their shoes to find out their shoe sizes, and sniffing them to see if they had any significant foot odor, all of which I remember writing down carefully somewhere, although I can't find that piece of paper today to prove it.

While this was going on, I found my time with Heather to be less and less interesting, and our sex to be repetitive and boring. And she also seemed to be going through the motions. And -- here's where another link to Jeff comes in -- once, with my interest really flagging and with me having a hard time staying erect, a picture popped into my mind of Jeff, little Jeff in his black overcoat, pointing at me and moving his lips although I couldn't hear anything -- and immediately I was hard as a rock and very, very active. It took Heather completely by surprise and she went along for the "ride" without asking any questions afterwards, for which I was grateful.

But things went downhill from there. I began to notice that Heather was also missing for brief periods when I expected to see her at study hall or after a class. But I couldn't really ask her about her mysterious brief absences without the subject of my own "gaps" coming up, and I knew I couldn't talk about that. So we never mentioned it to each other. And she also seemed to be losing it a bit during classes. Once I saw her frantically taking notes during physics; she was so absorbed by it that she never looked up during the class. At the end of the period, she grabbed her books and quickly left, but I noticed she had forgotten to take her notes. I picked up her notes intending to bring them to her later, but then I looked at them and noticed that on every page there was nothing but the word "Dana" written over and over again, in different letter styles and with decorations everywhere on the page. I was definitely going to ask her about it, but the next period for me was study hall, I had a brief blackout, and by the time of my next class I guess I had forgotten all about it (although I'm remembering it now!).

In the last few weeks, things seem to have really gotten out of hand. From my most recent evenings with Heather, I can only remember small pieces, and only from time to time. As I'm writing this, I remember that two weeks ago when we were together, something came over us and we found ourselves role-playing, something we had never done before. She played the tough jock, and I was the helpless cheerleader. And she "topped" me in a totally dominant way, calling me dirty names and sticking her feet and other objects in all sorts of sensitive places. Where she learned such a thing I have no idea! And I kept having the feeling, which I forgot at the time but seem to remember now, that there was maybe someone else in the room that I was forced not to notice, maybe even two people, laughing. Yes, now that I remember it, there WAS laughing. I couldn't look in their direction, though. I wasn't even sure they were there.

And in our most recent time together, the weirdest thing of all happened. For some reason, Heather and I started making out on the floor instead of on the bed, and I swear that when I looked up once, I saw Jeff and his butch friend Dana sitting on the bed, what looked like smirks on their faces, both fully clothed except with their shoes and socks off and bare feet on the carpet, and that I was lying with my head near Jeff's feet and Heather's head near Dana's feet. But when I shook my head and looked up, they weren't really there, or maybe they had left, or never were there, I don't know. I forgot about that part until just now.

Well, that's all I remember. Maybe some of it is my imagination, or even all of it. Maybe things will straighten themselves out this summer or during senior year. It should definitely get better once Heather and I are quite a distance out of this town at *** College. But just in case, I'm writing it down because for some reason I can't speak to anyone about it. I hope this gets into the hands of a friend or someone who can help me. If so, SEND HELP!! I can't even imagine what might happen if this got into the wrong hands.

[signed]
Charles Taylor

END