It Had to Be Me
Thomas has an average night at home trying to study for his biology test. When he gives a Grindr fellow the cold shoulder, little does he know what the consequences will be…
Let me say that I’m not a fan of serial stories. I am a firm believer that every single chapter of a serial must be able to stand on its own as both an interesting, complete, and arousing story. Nevertheless, I had an idea, or rather series of ideas come to me that I believe will make for something entertaining and sexy. I hereby present a new series: “It Had to Be Me”. Enjoy!
It must have been about midnight. It was a quiet night in my apartment and my roommate was still out with his girlfriend. Throughout the evening, I had been trying to study for my Biology 112 exam, which may surprise you, is far less interesting than it sounds. Most of my time was spent bouncing back and forth between reruns of Archer on Netflix, and seeing what lame and unexciting things were happening on Facebook. When I realized that it was past midnight, and that only 8 hours remained before my exam, I made a last-ditch effort to study. I pried open my textbook to chapter 4, flipping through pages. Chapter 4: Reproduction. I skimmed the paragraph. Terms, and memorization. Chromosomes. DNA. Spermatozoa. Turn the page. A full page diagram of a penis.
Now I must admit, it might seem a little childish for someone like me, a struggling college student at age 26 to get turned on from a biology diagram, but it’s been a slow week. I saw the graphic and for whatever reason, popped an instant-boner. I tried to keep reading, but my mind kept returning to the diagram. My penis became engorged and throbbing—a total distraction. On top of the erection, the snug pair of boxer-briefs I chose to wear weren’t helping. I closed the book and grabbed my phone. “Let’s see who’s on Grindr,” I thought.
I opened the app. It was the usual crowd. My friend best friend Tony was on. That guy Robb, who I fucked two years ago that still uses the same picture (from when he was 75lbs lighter) was on. The new twinks that just arrived on campus last month for the fall semester were all on. Hmm… nobody interesting. I scrolled down, so far only feeling a glaring sense of disappointment accompanied with a desperate need for release. Then, “thwhunt”. A Grindr message from “SpikeTat69”. I opened it.
“SpikeTat69” was this guy with spiked black hair and a goatee, and many facial piercings. 24 years old, single, his headline was “BELIEVE”. His “looking for” section was blank. In his profile photo, you could see his face and body. He wore a tight black muscle shirt showing the outline of his extremely thin body, along with skinny man-capri pants, and black converse chuck-taylors. He wore a chain around his neck, with one of those “new age” crystals or something on the bottom of it. Honestly he looked a bit silly. I opened his message- “hey,” it said. Just “hey”. I HATE THAT. He was obvious quite the poet, so I ignored the message, and went back to the Grindr homepage. After a few more minutes of mindless perusing, I grew bored with the other offerings. “Should I check some of the other apps,” I wondered, “maybe Jack’d or Scruff? Nah.”
Returning to the small desk in my apartment, I opened back up the textbook and flipped through to the quiz at the end of chapter 4. Question number one. Label the following diagram of the human male penis with the associated vocabulary terms. “Not getting away from this, eh” I thought. The Dorsal blood vessels. The Corpus cavernosa. The Corpus cavemosa. The body/shaft. The prepuce. The Glans. The extemal urethral meatus. “Haha,” I chuckled. “Meatus”. My dick got hard again. “Damn,” I thought.
I went into the bathroom and flipped on the light, closing the door behind me. I hastily undid my belt, tugging it free from the loops. I tossed it onto the floor. “I don’t have time for this,” I thought, frantically unbuttoning my jeans. As I pulled my jeans down, my penis sprung forward, freedom only being withheld by my underwear. As I took off my jeans, one leg at a time, I felt my dick surge with sensation, immeasurably hard. I pulled down my underwear, my dick springing loose, hitting me square in the abs, returning to stick straight out at nearly ninety degrees, with that familiar curve to the left. Beginning to stroke frantically, I grasped my dick with my left hand and opened a new browser window on my phone. I tapped in one of my favorite sites, “www.twinksandotters.com”.
I scrolled through and found some hot clips of twinks being held down and fucked by otter guys. Being an otter myself (skinny and hairy, lightly toned, but not muscly or plump), I always have enjoyed the fantasy. I stroked furiously, my throbbing dick pumping seeping precum. I got lost in the fantasy. I continued stroking, hearing the constant moaning from the video. I was getting close—I felt my scrotum tighten and my balls raise up. And then, familiar “thwhunt”. That unmistakable chime signifying that someone from the depths of humanity’s lowest achievement, Grindr, had messaged me. I wasn’t going to let a mere Grindr notification stop me, but then, “thwhunt”, “twhunt thwhunt”. “Hmm, I thought,” as the video clip came to an end. I swiped down on my phone, penis still in-hand. 4 messages from “SpikeTat69”. “Wonderful,” I thought. I opened the app, and navigated to my messages.
“You’re very handsome.”
“love your scruff”
“I’m Angel :)”
“How’s your night… um or morning?”
While I’ve had many conversations over the years on Grindr, I’ve definitely seen worse, but he just wasn’t my type. I’m not really into the “emo” or “dark-arts” crowd. I decided to be polite, and responded with “not my type, sorry”.
A photo appeared. It was his penis. “Oh brother,” I thought. He sent me a picture of his flaccid penis. It looked small and unimpressive. “Fuck off” I responded, and closed out of Grindr. I grabbed my dick, restarted the video, and feverously stroked as fast as I could. Once again, I felt my sack tighten, and my balls raise. My face twitched, and my heart skipped a beat. I erupted violently, shooting at least ten shots, all while experiencing a tremendous orgasm that left cum all over the bathroom sink. When my breathing returned to normal, and my penis softened, I rinsed the splooge down the sink. “What an orgasm,” I thought. “I guess nothing beats those study-session jack-off breaks.”
Walking back through the apartment, I saw that the clock read 1:58 am. “I’d better just wish for the best and head to bed,” I thought. I went into my bedroom, set my alarm for 6:30, and sprawled out on top of my bed sheet. I quickly started to doze off, but my dreams were odd. They were filled with visions of the spiky-haired guy from Grindr. What was his name? George, or Andrew, or Angel? He loomed over me heavily in my dream, seeming much larger than life. He was a giant. I heard his voice all around me, calling my name. Over and over. “Thomas…. Thomas… THOMAS”. I felt my entire body tingle. Is that normal for a dream? I felt hot- my body was on fire. I felt like I was moving… but not like normal movement. I felt like every part of me, every fiber of my being was being pulled and tugged on, moving. I had this distorted image in my mind of movement through things- movement through walls, objects, terrain, people. I ached. And then everything went quiet and dark.
In what felt like seconds, but what could have been hours (it was a dream, after all), I heard a familiar sound. “Thwhunt”. “Thwhunt”. “Thwhunt”. Like a heartbeat, the Grindr noise played over and over. Getting louder and louder. “Thwhunt.” THWHUNT.” I suddenly felt a falling sensation and my entire body shook. My eyes opened. Where the hell was I?
I looked around. I couldn’t move my arms. “Why couldn’t I move my arms?!” Oh. They were tied down. My legs were tied down. A strap crossed my abdomen. “Wait!” I thought. “Why am I naked?” I tried to cry out but I couldn’t. Something was covering my mouth. Duct tape maybe? I flailed about frantically, but to no avail. Just about then, I noticed a figure walking through a doorway across the room. He came into the light.
There stood my captor. He wore just three things. A harness around his thin, emasculated chest, a spiked collar around his neck, and a familiar crystal medallion. It was “SpikeTat69”… “Angel”. He came closer. I could see that he also had in several piercings. His ears were gauged, and several spikes were on his nasal bridge and forehead. He had a small pentagram tattooed on his left and right collar bones, and oddly, above his penis. Speaking of his penis, it stood tall and at attention, seeming much bigger than in the photo. He glared at me, walking up to the table to which I was strapped. “You shouldn’t have been a dick,” he said. “I’m a nice guy if you get to know me. No you will have no choice but to do so, and upon you I will impart something that you will never forget.” He began to chant some strange words and the crystal around his neck began to glow red. I was terrified….