He wasn’t like the other tenants in my building; for one thing, he had an incredibly fuckable ass. For another, he got uncontrollably turned on by older guys like me.

By Bill Bardelli

(Honcho.May.1985.)

I hate my telephone. Why can’t I go to bed and not have it ring in the middle of the night and wake me out of a deep sleep? It happens a couple of times a week — usually right after the bars close. Guys stumble through the lobby — a couple having a slurry worded fight, or a group ready to continue the party in someone’s apartment — and without fail one of the old ladies on the first floor will call and ask why I don’t do something about all the noise. “After all, Jack,” the familiar refrain goes, “you’re the Super.”

The call came early tonight. The clock beside my bed read 12:32. I was just drifting off into a dream about fucking a delivery boy who worked at the local corner market. It surprised me when I picked up the phone and it wasn’t one of my old biddies. It was the guy in 503 — his bathroom ceiling was leaking. The sound of water running in the apartment above led him upstairs but there was no answer at the door. I promised to investigate right away, hung up, and pulled myself out of bed. I snatched my jeans from the floor and pulled them on, grabbed my key ring, and flew out the door.

503. So the problem was in 603, my still sleepy mind deduced. 603 — that meant Michael Mortenson, my resident dizzy blond. He was turning out to be one of my major lapses in the selection of tenants. In only three months, he had misplaced his keys three times, caused several complaints with his stereo, and been late with the rent every time. I hadn’t expected him to act like Mr. Upstanding Citizen at 22, but this kid wasn’t playing with anything close to a full deck. How he managed to wait on tables and serve anybody the correct order was a mystery to me.

But there were redeeming qualities in the young man. For starters, he had a bubble butt to match his bubble brain. It jutted out of his skin tight jeans like two melons — round, juicy and ripe; firm, but not unyielding. The rest of him did the melons justice. Curly blond hair, mostly natural from what I could tell; peachy blond skin with a constant flush of color across his cheeks. Juicy pink lips and sky blue eyes. Pale blond fuzz on his arms and legs, which he was always happy to display in his tank top and gym shorts. And there was no reason not to show it — it was a tight little body, all lean and angular except for the glorious curves of his ass.

The thought of his ass softened my anger and started to harden my cock as I banged on his door. It felt kind of sexy to be padding barefoot through the halls, wearing nothing but my low slung jeans. My job kept me in good shape for 38, still sinewy and lean. Too much sun had started to give my face some craggy lines but it looked good on me, went well with my graying brown blond hair that still covered my head in a thick mane. I seemed to get more reaction at 38 than I did in my twenties. And when all else failed I could always flaunt my basket. The sight of seven fat inches hanging down my right thigh could often get me what Adonis looks wouldn’t.

There was no answer at the door. I turned my pass key in the lock and walked in. A flickering light glowed from the bathroom and I heard the water running. I pushed the door open and had to pause a moment to soak in the scene — Michael lounging in a bubble bath, eyes closed, earphones on his head with the hum of music audible across the room. His head lolled back against the ledge, with a Walkman, a burning candle, a glass of wine, and a half smoked joint in an ashtray on the hamper behind him. His body was covered by the bubbles and a stream of still running hot water was spilling over onto the tile floor.

My shadow against the candlelight gave him a start and he opened his eyes. He stared a moment, the marijuana haze making him look more confused than usual, then whipped the earphones off his head.

“What are you doing?” he stuttered.

“You’re flooding the goddamn place!” I shouted as I moved to the tub and shut off the water. I reached into the bubbles and pulled the plug.

“Oh,” he mumbled, trying to get a handle on the situation as he watched the water cascading over the side of the tub. “I’m sorry.”

“Get out of the tub!” I ordered.

“Huh?”

“The water …” I started to explain, and then decided not to waste my breath. I found his arm under the suds and yanked him to his feet.

So the trip wasn’t a total loss. My eyes drank in the sight as I pulled him from the water. Most of the body I’d seen before, riding bicycle or sunning on the deck. It looked even tastier now, glowing in the dim light. He was flushed from the heat of the bath, and the peach fuzz on his arms and legs glistened with tiny bubbles that still clung to him. His pubic hairs were a pale blond brown and matted with suds, framing his succulent pink circumcised cock which jutted out over a thick sack of hairless balls. He turned to grab a towel and the back view was even prettier — those golden melons flushed with pink from the bath, shining like satin from the moisture. I caught a glimpse of the winking pink button in the hairless crack as he wrapped the towel around him. My cock started to creep down my thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated as he turned to face me. His eyes weren’t on the tub but on the development in my jeans. It only served to make me harder. “I hope I didn’t cause too much damage.”

“Yeah,” I vaguely agreed; the thought of the wet ceiling in the apartment below us was taking a back seat to my concentration on the knot of his towel. It left a thin line of bare flesh to his hip. My staring eyes made him uncomfortable, so he turned away from me to fiddle with the Walkman on the hamper.

“It was real dumb of me,” he offered.

“Yeah,” I repeated, my eyes now hypnotized by the twin globes pressing out against the thin terrycloth. “Don’t let it happen again.”

To emphasize my point I moved a step closer and swatted my open palm across his ass. The flesh under the damp towel reverberated with a solid echo. Michael gasped at the contact and jumped as if he had just gotten an electric shock. His surprised eyes turned to meet mine and his mouth parted, pink tongue showing through white teeth. His expression told me that the swat was unexpected but not unwelcome.

“You can go back to your bath now,” I grinned. My hand moved to the knot of the towel and pulled it from his hips. Michael gasped again as he stood there naked before me, too stunned to react.

It was like being let loose in a candy store; I didn’t know where to begin. I decided on the juicy pink lips, moving closer for a kiss. I pressed my mouth to his and opened to let my tongue slide inside. My hands ran down his hard back to the soft round twin protuberances. I cupped one globe in each hand and squeezed; the springy flesh was like Jello under my fingers. His arms grasped my bare back and he arched forward, his hardening dick pressing against my leg.

I left his ass cheeks to move my hands to my jeans, which were quickly undone and down my legs. I stepped out of them and kicked them across the wet tile as my throbbing cock bobbed in front of me.

“Jack,” Michael whispered, his stoned eyes trying to focus on my meat. “I always wondered what that thing would look like out of your pants.”

“Take a closer look,” I suggested. My hand on his neck gently guided him to his knees.

I could feel his hot breath escape in a gasp as his mouth neared my dick. The warmth made me shudder as I arched forward, my dick reaching just far enough to touch his fat lower lip. He opened wider and his pink tongue appeared, soft and warm as it explored the slit at the head of my dick. Suddenly, I was too horny for leisurely foreplay. I took a handful of golden curls in each hand and pulled him closer as my fat cock disappeared into his mouth.

Michael only sighed in approval; his hands grabbed my ass to keep him balanced. I could feel him relax the muscles at the back of his mouth as he gobbled down the last few inches of dick like a starving man. He buried his nose in my pubes and moved one hand to my swinging nuts, kneading them into his palm as he continued to suck me like a pneumatic pump.

My knees started to buckle and I had to brace myself against the wall behind him to keep upright. It was obvious that he’d suck me inside out if I didn’t stop him, so I summoned all my strength to pry him loose. My cock popped out of his mouth with a loud smack and bounced in front of his nose. I had to grab his golden head in both hands again as he struggled to reattach his mouth.

The kid kept nosing forward; he didn’t want no for an answer. I finally did a side step and he lost his balance, falling forward to all fours. I knelt beside him and grabbed him around the chest with one arm, the other stroking his belly underneath, trying to calm him down. His breath was coming in great heaves and he nuzzled my shoulder where it pinned his neck. My other hand continued to stroke downward and found his hard pink dick. The first squeeze brought an immediate moan. He bucked and squirmed deeper into my body grip, trying to press even closer against me.

I was afraid to unleash him, afraid to let all that youthful energy out of my control. I pressed down instead, forcing his face into the wet bathmat and spreading his arms in front of him. As my right arm pressed down across his shoulders, my left arm stroked his ass. He was still on his knees and his ass cheeks jutted into the air. My forefinger searched for the opening inside the warm crack. It quickly found its target and slipped inside without resistance.

I gasped as my finger disappeared to the second knuckle, but it was nothing compared to the kid’s reaction. He let out another moan that penetrated the steamy tiles and no doubt echoed through all the adjoining apartments.

Suddenly his squirming torso went still with a shudder, as if the finger on his prostate had cut off his ability to move. I released the pressure from his shoulders and moved behind him, my eyes feasting on the full rear view. The twin melons still glistened from the bubble bath, droplets of water beading on the blond fuzz of his upper thighs. I wiggled my finger inside the hairless pink button asshole and it produced another moan. I reached to the hamper for the body lotion with my free hand and squeezed a stream of cold liquid over my pulsating cock.

I pushed one hand into the small of his back and inched forward, my knees on the inside of his pushing them further apart. My other hand guided my slick dick to the warm pink hole. I barely had to push — the fat head was swallowed up in one gulp. The sensation made me shiver and I let go of his back. With nothing to hold him he reared back, engulfing the full length of my throbbing cock in one smooth, uninterrupted motion. It was matched by his long, low moan of contentment as he pushed himself back up to all fours. I was being eaten alive.

He continued to push back against me. Soon my entire cock was sheathed by his hot ass. I let the pressure of his body push me back until I was sitting on my feet with my balls resting on the damp tile, his ass pressing into my lap. He squeezed his sphincter muscle and moaned again, then started bouncing up and down. My balls slapped against the wet tile with each stroke.

I reached for his throbbing cock and my sudden grasp brought another moan from him, this one closer to a scream. There wasn’t much else for me to do. My fist encircled his cock but stayed motionless as he fucked into it.

Soon his quickening strokes told me he was getting ready to come, though the sound effects would have been evidence enough. The little moans lasted the length of each downward thrust, rising sharply as his ass met my pubes and the tip of his cock slid inside my slicked fist. As he quickened his pace, the moans grew closer together, finally becoming one long plaintive hum interspersed with quick gasps for breath. It grew louder and louder until it reached a crescendo as I watched a stream of cum shoot in the air before me. A hot sticky stream drizzled over my fingers.

The sound effects suddenly stopped and he slumped like a blond rag doll in my lap. I pushed him forward, back on his hands and knees. His ass was still hot and tight but now it offered no resistance. I slammed away at it, each stroke pushing us farther across the floor. His blond curls were pressed against the wall when I felt my own climax well up. I abandoned all thought of the tenant below as I filled the kid’s ass with my hot cum, letting out a loud moan of my own.

I collapsed on top of him, the steam and sweat binding us together. He continued to squeeze my cock inside the warm sheath of his ass. My hand traced patterns over his smooth slick chest.

“I’m real sorry about the bathtub,” he murmured with another squeeze of his asshole.

I could hardly believe it as I felt myself growing hard again. “All in a day’s work,” I sighed.