Mr. M and the fan.

After a very succsessful night playing at the Extension, the other guys from the band insisted on taking Mr. M out for a celebratory drink. At first, he had protested, saying he was tired, but the guys were in such a good mood that he didn't want to let them down. Still, he had the sinking suspicion that somehow that accursed Genie would be attracted by the smell of alcohol and find them. Shrugging it off as a ridiculous paranoia, he sat on the worn barstool and started to order the cheapest wine he could find, but one of his buddies slapped him on the shoulder before he could.
"Come on, man, this a party! If it bothers you that much, it's on us," he said, encouringing him to get something nicer. Mr. M changed his order to a martini and, after throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder, kicked back to relax. A few more martinis later, and he was loosened up. Just as he was joking and laughing with his friends, though, he began to feel like someone was staring at him. Chancing a look around the room, he didn't notice anyone immedietly, but his casual composure was burdened by a renewed nervousness. Stupid derelict Genie... He couldn't even relax anymore!
As the night went on, his friends filtered out, whether to dance with attractive people or to pass out from public drunkeness. He had only had a few drinks, though, so while he was buzzed, he still had his bearings together. So he decided to call it a night and began walking to the door to leave, when he finally caught the pair of eyes that must have been on him all night long. Shy, hazel eyes, under a curtain of strawberry blonde hair tried to pretend they weren't looking at Mr. M when he looked this person in the eye. It was a relief that the person staring at him wasn't the obnoxious Mr. G, but, then... who was this? Fighting his hesitation, Mr. M worked up the nerve to approach this person. Dressed in a black hat and vest over a white t-shirt, the person looked rather feminine, but upon closer inspection, he saw that it was male.
As Mr. M approached this mysterious young man, he began to wonder why he had been looking at him. Judging from his coy posture, he began to guess that this was a fan, perhaps of more than just his music. Smirking at the thought, he leaned on the wall next to the young man and raised his eyebrow. He told himself this only excited him because of the satisfaction in someone finding him attractive...
"Hello, there," he said smoothly. "I couldn't help but notice you looking at me. Are you a fan?" The other man seemed to quiver and attempted to shield eyes with his hair.
"You could say that," he replied in a high, quaking voice. How old was he!? He sounded so young; too young to be in a bar. Still, the guy seemed nervous, and that could account for it. That gave Mr. M a rush. He was actually making this guy nervous.
"Well, I'm always glad to meet a fan," he chuckled, "What's your name, by the way?" The young man seemed to falter at that question, as if he didn't know what to say. Once again, Mr. M just chalked it up to the kid being nervous.
"S-stephen," he said, giving a sideway glace. 'He's cute,' an affectionate voice seemed to say in the back of Mr. M's mind. But he couldn't possibly be thinking that. This was some kind of groupie, and a guy at that. Well, it wasn't as if any of his friends were looking...
"Stephen, huh? Well, why don't we get out of here. Go somewhere a little less noisy so we could talk," he suggested. The 'Stephen' kid looked to be unable to control his excitement and brought his hands to his now blushing face. An excited nod was his positive response, and Mr. M jerked his head to the door. The two of them walked out into the warm, balmy night with no confirmed destination. Mr. M didn't actually have a place for them to go, he just knew he couldn't go anywhere where he'd be recognized. So when he unconciously began to walk in the direction of his apartment, he was a little shocked at himself. Why would he bring this kid to his apartment? Regardless, there they stood, at the entrance to the building. Stephen had wordlessly followed him the whole way.
"Uh..." Mr. M began, his former suave attitude now replaced with the awkward, unsure air of inexperience. "You wanna come up and have a cup of coffee or something?" Stephen screwed his face up into a grimace at this. Mr. M raised his eyebrow-did the guy not like him anymore? Or perhaps...
"Well, it doesn't have to be coffee, I have sodas and stuff!" he assured. In response, Stephen's glee returned to him, and he seemed to bound behind Mr. M up the stairs to his apartment. Struggling to get the key in the door on account of his 'buzz', he cursed it, calling it a 'stupid little fucker', before actually opening the door. When he turned on his light, Stephen gasped.
"This is so nice!" he said, a little more confident than before. "You're so... c-cool!" Stephen swooned as he said this, and Mr. M smirked, his own confidence coming back. He reached his arm around the younger man to close the door. This earned a blush and a giggle from him. Ushering him to the kitched, Mr. M got a Dr. Pepper out of the refridgerator and handed it to the kid. For himself, he grabbed a bottle of water, and he led them both to the sofa. Stephen sat, sort of huddled around his can of Dr. Pepper, throwing an occasional glance to Mr. M. Working up his confidence, he sat down, throwing an arm on the back of the sofa behind him. It gave him a rush, and he liked it... especially when he saw blush on the shaking boy.
"Did you see the concert, tonight?" he asked, going so far as to put his hand on Stephen's chin to pull his face to face him. He found himself reluctant to take his hand away, and the boy seemed to lean into it... so he left it right where it was.
"Y-yeah... I had to sneak in, though. I'm not 21, yet," he responded in a shaking voice. Mr. M didn't really care. He had guessed that he was too young to be in a bar.
"I'm glad to know I have such devoted fans," he responded, his voice betraying his feelings. He was surprised to hear himself sounding so husky. Stephen seemed to catch on, too, as he was scooting closer to Mr. M on the sofa. Once again, he felt a tingling in his lower belly. He wondered how far this could go. With the hand on his face, he stroked his soft skin with his thumb. With his mind uninhibited by the effects of alcohol, he decided he'd like to feel more of the soft, smooth skin. With that, he felt his already tight pants grow tighter.
Stephen looked like he was about to say something, but with the arm that was on the back of the sofa, Mr. M pulled him flush against his body, and all that came out of him was a gasp. Deciding his flushed lips looked cute open in a gasp, Mr. M leaned over and caught them in a somewhat awkward kiss. Freezing up for a moment, Stephen let out a shocked sound that seemed to turn into a moan, and his lips became yeilding to Mr. M's intentions... and began to return the suction of the kiss that was being given. Taking this as positing feedback, Mr. M pushed his tongue beyond the boy's pillowy lips. As he deepened the kiss, he felt small hands come up and grasp his shirt as if to hold on. This broke down any control Mr. M had over his actions, and, grabbing him by the rear, he pulled Stephen into his lap while hungrily pludnering his mouth.
This earned some desperate sounds of shock and pleasure from the small frame that was now seated in his lap, strategically on top of his cloth covered erection. Mr. M noticed the body was shaking a bit harshly under his hands, but he relented, kissing and sucking down his neck, not caring that he was leaving marks. His hands quested up underneath the shirt and fest to find more smooth skin. It had been so long, and now he found he couldn't get enough. His rough thumbs found perky nipples, and he felt his cock jump with excitement. Mr. M found his own hands were shaking now as he squeezed and fondled Stephen's chest in abandon. The moaning and mewling that he earned from this only served to further arouse him.
Becoming increasinly frustrated by the clothes in his way, Mr. M pulled off the shirt that was in his way of the boyish chest in which he was thoroughly indulging. This sent the passe hat flying to the floor as well. Stephen's willingness and exhuberance urged him on... he didn't know it would be this easy. Now that he had partially declothed the boy, he flipped him onto his back on the sofa and crawled on top of him, grasping his thighs and pulling them apart for access. Stephen looked bewildered and confused, but now Mr. M could feel that he was throbbing with hardness as well.
"Do you want me?" Mr. M whispered in a rough voice in his ear, unable to stop himself from already dry humping. Stephen responded by clinging to him with both his arms and legs and pushing his hips upward. Their erections made contact through their clothes, and Mr. M decided that pants were no longer desirable. Prying himself from the smaller man's grip, he began to unbutton and unzip his pants, which became very difficult as he squirmed and tried to squeeze his legs together. This was no time to be shy! Finally, he was able to tear off his pants and underpants in one swift move, revealing a small, throbbing and dripping cock, tinted pink from arousal. Whimpering in shyness, Stephen tried to cover it with his hands, but Mr. M was having none of this! With his stronger hands, he pulled his hands away by the wrists and held them down. The sight before him was truly delicious. This mostly hairless man lay before him, ready to be devoured, and Mr. M did just that. Lowering his head, he gave the cute little cock a bold, wet lick, inciting a shuddering shout from above. Smirking in satisfaction, he brought the tip of his tongue to the bead of moisture that was forming at the glans and licked it away as if it were melting ice cream.
"Oooo..." Stephen whimpered and pressed his shivering hips up to meet Mr. M's mouth. Apparantly, he liked this treatment. But Mr. M didn't want this game to end so soon. He raised his head up away from the tasty treat, and looked over the naked body before him. Stephen pouted and whimpered at the loss, but Mr. M made sure to shut him up. Licking and sucking on his own fingers, he brought them between the kid's legs and rubbed them in the crevice of his rear before manipulating the tight pucker that was there.
"Wh-what are you doing!?" he squeaked, trying to shut his legs. But Mr. M's fingers breached the tight muscles and penetrated in order to spread him open. "O-ow! That feels weird!" He didn't try to get away, though, and he stopped trying to close his legs. Was this guy a virgin? Mr. M was past the point at which he could make himself stop, so he really didn't care that much...
"It'll feel better... Just relax," he said, trying his best to sound caring and understanding. It was hard, as horny as he was at the moment, but it seemed to do the trick. The clenching muscles around his fingers began to relax, and, though he had a worried look on his face, Stephen looked up at him with trust. Once he calmed down, Mr. M began thrusting his fingers in and out of the shaking body beneath him, opening up his fingers little by little to stretch him out. He noticed that Stephen went from grimacing in pain to turning very red and hot and opening up his legs. He could see how turned on he was getting, and it made him want him all the more.
"I wanna put my cock in you," Mr. M breathed, adding another finger inside of the tight asshole. "Will you let me?" he teased. His only response was an embarrased whine as Stephen hid his face. His legs spread wider, however, revealing his true desires. With his free hand, Mr. M unzipped his own pants and pulled out his aching hardon. Stephen must have been peeking, because he heard a gasp, and he smirked. Was he impressed? Intimidated, even? He pulled his fingers out of the younger man and stood up.
"I'll be right back. Don't move," he said, leaning down to kiss his swollen lips before going into the bathroom. He had to stop himself from skipping-he was going to get some! But he needed lubrication in order for that to happen. In a hurried, frantic rush, he searched the bathroom drawers for something he could use... anything. He settled on some lotion he found under his sink and went back out into his living room. He was almost relieved to find the naked boy laying exactly where he had left him. Standing where he knew he could see him, he squirted some of the lotion on his hand and started spreading it over his cock.
"Ready?" he asked. He didn't really need to, Stephen's legs were spread wantonly, so he had perfect access. No response came, so he crawled back on top of him and kissed him in reassurance and to distract him. Just for some extra distraction, he brought a hand up to pinch and flick one of his nipples. He was so delighted by this that he didn't notice when Mr. M pressed the tip of his moistened cock to his stretched entrance and gradually started pushing in. Once the ridge of the head penetrated him, though, he cried out and pressed his hands against the larger man's chest.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" he protested, "That huuurts!" Mr. M stopped his progression and stilled his hips, pausing just to hold onto him and kiss him. He could use what little self control he had to wait for him to adjust...
"It'll feel good in a minute," he promised. His cock hurt with need to just push right in, but he didn't want to hurt the nice young man who was letting him play with him to his heart's content. And his patience was rewarded when he felt the slender hips pushing against him involuntarily. Releasing his grip on Stephen's body, he reached down to grab his hips to stabilize him. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the remainder of his length in as slowly as he could. As he sunk into the body beneath him, his toes curled in delight. He was sooo tight... He thought he might cum there and then, as his balls tightened against his body, but he held strong.
Pulling Stephen's body close to his own, he felt how heated his skin was, and even moreso on the inside. He couldn't help it, he began rolling his hips smoothly, causing the smaller man to moan and dig his fingers into his back.
"Like that, do we?" Mr. M asked in a strained voice.
"It... it does feel good... I want... more," he whimpered, wrapping his legs around Mr. M's waist as if to pull him in and increase his thrusting. Who was he to deny him what he wanted? He began to thrust into his tight body without inhibition. Before long, Stephen was screaming, and Mr. M didn't particularly care if his neighbors heard... he started grunting as well as he pounded into him. He didn't want to cum because he couldn't get enough of the sweet, pliable boy. He began to hope he could keep him around as more than just a one night stand... It just felt so good, his cock almost hurt it was squeezed so tightly, and he began to feel to feel the tingly feeling in his abdomen as if a bubble was about to burst, as if he were beginning to ride a rising wave of pleasure. The bubble burst when Stephen began spurting warm, white liquid over Mr. M's shirt, and his already tight channel shuddered and clamped down on his twitching cock.
Something snapped in him, and it was as if the sensitivity of the skin of his cock increased a hundred fold. His world was reduced to screaming, thrusting, and cumming into the warm, yielding body beneath him. As he closed his eyes, he could only see white sparks, and the electricity seemed to travel down to his feet and curl his toes. It was almost as if he went into a trance, and his cries of 'yes, oh god, yes', turned into an infantile babble.
When he came to, he was holding onto a sniffling, shaking young man who was trying to hide his face and stop himself from crying. Mr. M felt a sick feeling in his chest. Had he forced himself on him? Taken advantage of his ignorance? Guilt filled him, and his stomach sank like a rock. Putting his hand on Stephen's face and shaking him slightly as if to get his attention, he looked into his eyes.
"Oh, god... Are you okay? Did I... Did I hurt you?" he asked in a worried tone. Stephen's only response was to cling to him and let out a soft, quivering sob against his chest.
"I'm s-sorry," he said into his shirt, "I'm okay... I swear, I don't know why, but I can't help it." A little relieved, but still confused, he stroked his back in a firm motion.
"That's alright. That wasn't... your first time, was it?" he asked, the guilt still weighing him down. He seemed to sober up immedietly, and now that he looked at this guy clearly, he could very well be highschool age.
"Y-yes," he admitted, as if ashamed. Mr. M didn't say anymore. Rather, he just lay on the sofa with the crying naked boy until he eventually fell asleep. He wasn't going to kick him out or anything, he'd let him stay the night... And once he did fall asleep, Mr. M tried to slip away from him without waking him to get cleaned up. On his way to the bathroom, though, he nearly tripped over a backpack. Had this been there the whole time? Was it the kid's? Curiosity got the best of him, and he kneeled down to take a look inside. All he found, though, were slightly tattered clothes... and an ovular mask.
He felt as though his heart stopped. In his brain, the image of Stephen, cute and eager, was superimposed by the image of dawdling, stupid Mr. S... Loyal assistant to that wretched, horrible, annoying Mr. G... His blood ran cold, and he nearly broke the mask in his hands as he snarled in anger. He had just deflowered Mr. S! And what was worse is that he knew the entire time, and didn't bother telling him. The lying little harlot!
But his anger softened... If he had told him, Mr. M would have never given him a chance... and he had been so genuine as to even cry at the loss of his virginity. Besides, it wasn't as if Mr. S was the one who scammed him, annoyed him, seemed to cause him misery at every chance he got. Perhaps he was just being manipulated by Mr. G! Gently placing his things back into the backpack, he looked over his shoulder at the sweetly sleeping boy who had just handed over his chastity to him... readily. Mr. M vowed then and there that he would get him away from the evil influence of that bastard and have him all to himself! It gave him a rush, even, to finally be able to take something from the asshole that took so much from him. Taking off his dirty clothes and throwing them in a hamper, he went to the bedroom to get sleep pants before rejoining his newfound treasure on the sofa and falling to sleep himself, feeling very accomplished and determined.
However... when he woke up to bright sunlight filtering through the large windows in his apartment, he was alone on the sofa. Thinking perhaps Stephen/Mr. S was just in the bathroom, he fought his hangover induced headache to stand up and survey the apartment for him. Alas, he was gone, leaving behind only his gouche hat on the floor and an empty can of Dr. Pepper. Feeling a throbbing pain in his chest, Mr. M picked up the hat and hugged it to his body. This and the dull ache in his thighs being the only proof that last night had ever occured... His resolve to have Mr. S for himself had not faltered, though. He would get him... Get him and be victorious over that bastard Genie.