I Gotta Get Home

By Willie Cici published March 14, 2019

Dawson has earned his journeyman status, but still has so much to learn …

On a brisk, spring Saturday morning, Dawson descended the imposing granite brownstone steps of his midtown Manhattan apartment, just off West 74th Street. Dawson loved the location, central to everything he wanted and enjoyed. The former track and field athlete especially loved the proximity to his favorite section of Central Park, ‘The Ramble’, a section of Central Park that has meandering paths that runners of Dawson’s caliber enjoyed for sprints and long runs. With his iPod in tow, Dawson sported attire not only for running, but also for flirting. He wore tight satin-like running shorts, no shirt, and wore a drawstring backpack. Dawson maintained his physique, but also his coiffed and manicured appearance. He looked sexy and the women lollygagging in the Park routinely flirted with the cute hunk.

Dawson loved to tease the hotties in Central Park. Routinely, he would spot an attractive woman, strike up a conversation and scan the woman’s mind. The journeyman sorcerer, having completed his apprenticeship, decided to employ his talents and toy with the native population. When Dawson found a prude, he ‘undid’ the prude. Someone that desirable should not be frigid. Dawson reshaped these women, adding to the legion of Manhattanite nymphs. His creations served as dutiful sex toys. Such women, Dawson opined, were in short supply in Manhattan. Dawson wanted to help his fellow man. Whenever Dawson bedded a female, he always ended his encounters with a kiss on the forehead, a kiss that gifted those women with the most intense orgasm they had ever experienced.

Despite his curiosity with the female population of Manhattan, Dawson loved men. Dawson’s incredibly handsome looks and stunning physical beauty guaranteed success without his magic. Dawson had his standards: fit, attractive – and straight. He would take it from there.

Dawson took a moment to relax and rest from his jog around the ‘Ramble’. He found an empty park bench and sat on the back of the bench, his feet resting on the seat of the bench. The vantagepoint on the bench allowed Dawson to scope the passing hotties from left to right. (To see Dawson, click here). As Dawson sat on the park bench, two friends jogged up to him and said hello. “We thought we’d see you here.”

“I am predictable.”, Dawson said. The friends conversed for more than hour. From time to time, Dawson studied the hotties jogging by or walking their dogs. No one tickled his fancy. When one of his friends mentioned house guests, that triggered Dawson to look at his watch. He hopped off the park bench. “Hey, guys! I gotta get home. I’ll see you around.” Dawson started slow jogging his way through the park. He needed to reach his home, before things brewed out of hand.

Dawson opened the door of his brownstone apartment. As he inched into his apartment, he smiled. In the corner, the naked man sat, staring at Dawson. He bent his right leg and held it with both hands. His left leg was extended. Dawson’s guest fit the bill: taut muscles, sculpted chest, carved abs, great physique. His body was mostly hairless, his long brown locks shaved to a Marine buzz cut. The cute stud focused on Dawson as he climbed the three-stairs and entered the main room of the apartment. The naked man did not move. Dawson had ordered him to remain to sit tight. (To see Dawson’s guest, click here).

Dawson smiled as he dropped his drawstring backpack and removed his running shorts. He stood in the center of the room, caressing his chest. “Did you miss me?”

“Why are you doing this?”, the naked man said.

“Because I can.”, Dawson replied.

“But … I’m married.”, the naked man said.

“Listen to me, Connor.”, Dawson explained. “I told you that I took care of that. Your wife thinks you’re on a business trip. I called her yesterday.”

“But …”, Connor tried to say.

Dawson snapped his fingers. Suddenly, Connor’s expression drew blank. “Tough nut, this one. It’s okay.”, he thought to himself. “Connor, listen to me. Tomorrow, when you leave, you won’t remember any of this. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”, Connor answered.

“Good.”, Dawson said. He snapped his fingers again, now, naked and erect. “Now, Connor, suck my dick, just like I showed you last night.” Connor crawled from his corner posture. Dawson wiggled his foot-long monster before Connor’s eyes. As he drew close, Connor kissed Dawson’s thick mushroom head and licked the shaft of his long, thick cock. “Don’t forget the balls.”, Dawson urged. Connor suckled on Dawson’s dangling balls, two at time, his mouth full with testes.

“Show me that ass, Connor.”, Dawson said. Connor leaned against the wall and turned to face Dawson. Dawson took a moment to admire Connor’s form. He had beautiful buttocks, curves and form. That worried look on his face made Dawson want him all the more. (To see Connor, click here). Dawson leaned against Connor’s warm, soft body. He kissed the nape of Connor’s neck. Slowly, he pressed his rock-hard cock onto Connor’s rosebud. He heard the coos of pleasure. Dawson closed his eyes and pressed onward.

The following Monday morning —

Connor opened his eyes. He smelled coffee. He rose from the bed and surveyed the bedroom. He found his clothes, laundered and folded on a chair near the bedroom door. He donned his clothes and walked out of the bedroom, heading for the front door. Dawson stood naked in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Going so soon?”, Dawson teased.

“Yeah … uh … I gotta get home. The wife thinks I’m on a business trip.”, Connor answered. Connor opened the apartment door, paused and turned to stare at Dawson. “Can I come back?”, he asked.

Dawson smirked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean … I had fun. I wanna come back.”, Connor said.

Dawson put down his mug and walked towards the threshold of the front door. “Connor, did you … fake being straight? Are you married? What gives?”

“I’m … kinda … bi.”, Connor answered.

Dawson snapped his fingers. Connor walked back into the apartment and froze in place. Dawson was incensed. Connor spoiled all the fun that he had enjoyed kidnapping the married straight guy. “Son of a bitch!!”, Dawson muttered, his teeth clenched, his anger rising. “Okay. You want to be ‘bi’, I’ll make you ‘bi’.” Dawson rolled an imaginary ball in his hands. From the ether, a ball of fiery red dust formed in his hands. He took the finished ball in his right hand and readied to hurl the ball of magic upon Connor, but he felt another hand holding him back.

When he turned around, Dawson found his mentor, Izzy, standing in his apartment, restraining his hand. Dawson did not smile. He was annoyed that Izzy had interfered with his retribution. “Why are you here?”

“Because you should not punish him for your error. Did you ever properly scan his mind?”, Izzy asked. “No, you didn’t. You scan the minds of all those women you never bed. This one, your cock almost erupted, and you forgot your own protocol. Will you never learn?” The ball of fiery red dust disintegrated in Dawson’s hand. Izzy stared at his mentee. “What were you planning to do?”, Izzy asked, knowing full well the answer to that question. Before he answered, Izzy said, “Cuckold peg-boy.” Izzy shook his head. “Make him really straight. Then get him interested in jogging in the park. Then, every time he sees you jogging in the park, he has that feeling to come home with you. The straight man who can’t refuse his walks on the wild side.”, Izzy replied.

When he realized the wisdom in Izzy’s plan, Dawson nodded ‘yes’. “I’m almost two hundred years old and I might as well be a teenager.”

“I’m over a thousand. I’m just getting the hang of ‘wisdom’.”, Izzy answered.

Dawson bowed and said, “Thank you, Master Sigmund.”

“You’re welcome, my good student. Now, finish this one off. He’s gotta get home.”, Izzy said. The teacher and his student burst into laughter.

Dawson turned to face Connor. Dawson closed his eyes, mouthed the incantation and watched Connor walk out of the apartment, confused and afraid. Dawson turned around, ready to speak to Izzy, but Izzy had vanished. “He had to get home.”

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