Out of the Closet (mm oral asfr)
by Wersgor
"Damn!" Jon Harris wiped a stream of sweat from his forehead, brushing aside a lock of blonde hair. "I don't believe your Grandpa had so much junk!" He looked around the cluttered living room, piled with boxes, and added, "It's gonna take us all day to get this place cleaned out!"
Matt Thompson grimaced. "That's why my folks are paying us a hundred bucks apiece. It's a lot less than it would cost to hire movers. And it's not like we have to catalogue it or sort it. I don't think Grandpa had anything worth keeping."
"You can say that again." Jon surveyed the mess of antiquated (but not valuable antique) furniture with disdain. "Doesn't look like he made it rich."
"He was some kind of crackpot inventor," said Matt. "Never sold any of his ideas, and he wouldn't even talk about them any more. He said no one ever gave his inventions a chance, and he was tired of being laughed at."
"Poor old guy," said Jon sympathetically. Catching sight of the full-length mirror propped against the wall, he grinned suddenly, and Matt's heart leapt. He'd been secretly in love with that grin for years. "Jeeze, look at us!" Jon laughed. "We look like last week's leftovers!"
Studying their reflections, Matt had to agree. They had had the sense to wear old cutoffs, and had stripped their shirts off early in the day; now, after three hours of emptying drawers and hauling furniture outside, both college men were layered with dust and sweat. Matt couldn't help thinking that Jon's hard, athletic body looked perfect even in grunge. He'd been a star quarterback in high school, and it showed - oh, how it showed! By contrast, red-headed Matt was slim and wiry, his boyish face making him look younger than his nineteen years. When they were in choir together, Matt fit the image that everyone expected; Jon, with his broad shoulders almost pushing out of his robe, had been described by one sniffy parishioner as 'a caveman dressed up as an angel'.
"Hey," said Jon suddenly, "does the shower upstairs still work?"
"Uh, yeah, I think so. But what's the point? We're gonna be working on this for hours yet."
"Something I learned doing yardwork. Wash up halfway through, it's not half as tough to get clean at the end. C'mon, let's take a break."
Matt gulped. He'd showered with Jon many times after gym class - but that was with dozens of other guys. The fear of discovery had been enough to keep his hard-on under control. But alone... just watching Jon bound up the stairs, his bubble butt moving from side to side like a metronome, was getting him hot already!
"Well, come on," Jon called back cheerfully over his shoulder. "Last one in - "
There was no possible excuse not to, so Matt followed, forcing himself to hide the way his pulse was racing.
"I hope there's hot water," Jon was saying as Matt caught up. "Hey, what is it with this door? Who locks their bathroom?" He shoved against it with his shoulder.
"The bathroom's over here," Matt corrected him. "That's just an old closet."
There was a loud crack as the rotten wood of the closet door broke off its hinges. "Oops." Jon grinned sheepishly, rubbing his bicep. "Don't know my own strength."
Lie down! Lie down! Matt told his cock frantically.
The door toppled backward onto the floor with a resounding crash. Jon started to say something, then gaped. "You said this was a closet?"
Matt peered inside, and his jaw dropped. It was a very big walk-in closet, but that wasn't what was startling. It was what was inside. Wooden benches and shelves were loaded with mechanical equipment of all kinds - soldering irons, piles and tangles of electric wiring, primitive computer boards, and a lot of things Matt couldn't even begin to identify.
"It's a workshop!" exclaimed Jon. "Cool! This must be where he did all his inventing!" Stepping inside, he carelessly picked up a blue metal tube from the nearest bench. "What's this, a flashlight?" He held it up for Matt to see.
"I don't know." Matt took it and leaned closer to look. "The old ones usually had switches, not just a button. And what's this?" Below the button were a knob and a small readout panel with '1M' on it. He tried turning the knob, and '1M' was replaced by '2M', then '3M'. He turned it back. "M for megavolts, maybe?"
He pointed the tube into the shadows and hit the button. Nothing happened. "More like no megavolts. It's dead." He turned back to Jon, still thumbing the button. "Oh, well. No surprise there."
Jon said nothing.
"Is there a light switch in here?" Matt wondered, groping around. He gave Jon an impatient look. "C'mon, help me look."
Jon said nothing.
Matt found a dangling cord and pulled it. He was almost surprised when the ceiling bulb came on. "At least something still works." He glanced at his friend, then stared. "Jon?"
Jon said nothing. He just stared straight ahead, as if not seeing Matt at all. One hand was half-raised, the fingers splayed apart. His lips were slightly open as if to speak.
"Jon?" Matt shook him, but Jon didn't respond. He just wobbled stiffly in place like a mannequin.
"Jon!" Matt slapped his cheeks, but Jon didn't blink. "Jon, are you okay? Say something! Wake up!" He panicked for a moment, then remembered his Boy Scout training. Putting an arm around his friend, he took a deep breath and began giving him mouth-to-mouth.
A moment later Jon gasped and shivered, his body relaxing. "What the fuck just happened?" he demanded.
Matt blushed, pulling away from him. "Um, you weren't moving, I thought, um..."
"I couldn't move! It was like my whole body turned to stone!" His eyes lowered to Matt's pants. "Uh, guy - looks like something is still pretty hard."
Matt almost bit his tongue as he protested, "No, I, I, I wasn't..."
To his shock, Jon smiled broadly. "Admit it, man. You got off on it too!"
"No, I didn't, I'm not - " He paused. "Too?"
"Hell, yes!" Jon beamed. "Do you know how long I've wanted you to do that? And not just the mouth-to-mouth." His eyes were feverishly bright. "Being stuck like that, all stiff and helpless, while you put your hands all over me...oh God, that was intense! I've had more wet dreams like that - !"
Matt still couldn't believe it. "You liked it? You like me? And you dream about stuff like that too?"
Jon smiled slyly. "Too?"
This was turning into a very unusual day.
Jon gazed around the walk-in closet with new respect. "Dude, your Grandpa was a genius! He invented a freeze ray! A real fuckin' freeze ray!"
Matt stared at the metal tube that he'd almost forgotten he was holding. "And when I pointed it at you and hit the button - " He looked again at the little readout panel. "1M." He looked up at Jon in sudden realization. "One minute?" Hesitantly, he turned the dial. "And if I change it to 2M - ?"
Jon was breathing hard. "Try it!"
"What if it means something else?"
"Try it!" Jon lunged forward and grabbed the device, hitting the button himself. Instantly he stiffened in his leaning pose, muscles taut, mouth hanging open. Matt felt a hot explosion as he came in his cutoffs. Jon teetered in place, rocking on stiff muscular legs, eyes unblinking.
"Oh God," Matt moaned blissfully, and wrapped himself around his frozen friend, running sweaty hands across the broad hairy chest, the strong back, the tight rigid muscles of those powerful arms. He buried his tongue in Jon's open mouth, living what he had only dreamed about for years. Together they toppled over onto the floor, Jon's arms sticking up into the air like the branches of a tree.
Exactly two minutes later, Matt felt hot cum splatter across his heaving stomach and chest. "Ohmygod!" Jon moaned ecstatically. "Ohmyfuckingod!" He grabbed Matt and tongued him fiercely, crushing his body to him until Matt almost lost his breath. For some time neither of them had anything that could be called a coherent thought.
At last, lying together in a heap on the closet floor, Jon giggled. "Now we really need a shower!"
Laughing, they lurched to the bathroom. Matt placed the raygun and his watch carefully on the sink and turned on the showerhead. "You wash me and I'll wash you," leered Jon, stepping in. "I see something that needs a good scrubbing!"
"I still can't believe this," Matt said dreamily. "Me and the football hero - the jock with the big, big muscles..."
Jon grinned, flexing both arms.
Instantly Matt snatched up the ray gun and hit the button. "Gotcha!"
Jon continued grinning and flexing. He would continue for quite a while. Matt stepped closer and held up the tube so he could read the setting. "1H", he gloated. "One hour!"
Placing the tube safely down, he stepped in and began lathering Jon's motionless body with slow, sensual strokes. Sliding his soapy hands along the lean, hard abs, the broad powerful thighs, the nine-inch cock that stood rigidly upright like a steel bar. Unable to resist, he wiped off the soap and sank to his knees, taking the petrified member in his mouth. He could feel the throbbing as Jon tried to cum, straining helplessly against his immobility. Gasping for breath, Matt sat back for a moment. Then he noticed something.
"Hey," he said. "Your cock is bent down now!" He reached out and touched it. It was still stiff. Experimentally he tried pushing it up, and it bent to his touch, remaining upright when he released it.
"Hmm." Matt stood up and tugged on one of Jon's curled arms. It was utterly immovable. Then he had a thought. Grabbing onto one rigid arm, he pulled himself up and started licking Jon's fist. After a few minutes he stopped and poked at the curled fingers. They pried apart at his touch, remaining stiffly extended.
"Yes!" he cried. "Posable when wet!" He smirked. "But not just any kind of wet..."
About ten minutes later Jon was nice and adjustable all over. Matt practiced putting him in all kinds of poses - one arm stiffly wrapped around Matt's waist, one hand saluting, one eye winking. There were so many possibilities, so little time. Or was there?
For a little while he concentrated on actually getting them both clean. Then he stepped out of the shower, dried himself thoroughly, and picked up his watch. Holding it up for Jon to see, he told him "Whoa, fifty-nine and a half minutes already? You're about to thaw, buddy!" He waited several seconds, till the instant Jon blinked and began to quiver. Then he triggered the ray gun again. "Not!"
Time passed blissfully for Matt and his beautiful statue, which was presently pulled into a sitting pose to become a nice warm easy chair. He left the cock upright. As the cool air dried Jon, he became utterly rigid again, and Matt sank onto the rock-hard rod, gasping. He was in heaven.
At last Jon slumped happily to the floor, Matt flopping down on top of him. "You little bastard," Jon gasped happily. "I think I'm in love."
"I know I am," Matt sighed, relieved that he hadn't gone too far after all. It was beginning to look like, with Jon, nothing would be going too far.
"We gotta finish cleaning out this place," Jon said at length. "Christ, it's gonna take all night now!"
Matt reluctantly rose and helped him up. "Nothing in that closet gets thrown out!"
"Hell, no!" Jon stretched and headed for the closet lab. "I'll bring your clothes back with me...stud."
Matt lay there happily, thinking how much he liked that name. A few minutes later Jon returned, but he hadn't dressed, or brought Matt's clothes. Instead he was carrying a small green metal tube. Matt sat up in surprise. "Hey, he made another in a different color?"
"Nah. This one has a little label. It says 'Robotizer Gun'."
He pointed it at Matt, grinning wickedly. "Let's see how it works."
END