Monday, May 17, 2010

Pleasing Michael by Stormy Glenn

by Stormy Glenn

Jackson Davis is considered a gay man’s wet dream but he’s tired of finding lovers that only seemed to want him for his looks and not a real relationship.

One night at a bar, Jack discovers a man watching him. The man never approaches him, never speaks to him. When Jack finally confronts the man, he is astounded by his reaction.

The man is in no way intimidated by Jack’s size, even though his several inches shorter than Jack and a good amount lighter. Still, the man has a commanding presence that has Jack running to the men’s room to jack off the minute the man leaves.

Thus begins Jack’s obsession with pleasing Michael. What follows is a story of frustration and confusion for Jack as Michael commands and dictates to Jack, rewarding Jack when he’s good and punishing him when he's bad.

Jack is confused that he lets Michael dominate him, wondering if it makes him less of a man. Can Jack accept the fact that pleasing Michael makes him happy or will he lose the best thing that ever happened to him?


“He’s watching again.”

“Let him.”

“It’s creepy,” Sean insisted.

Jack Davis rolled his eyes as he leaned over the green felt pool table and line up for another shot. “He’s just looking, Sean. He’s not causing any harm.” Jack raised his head and glanced at the dark haired man watching him from across the room. “Besides, he’s kind of sexy.”

“But, he’s just…staring. It’s eerie, dude.”

Jack chuckled. “Sean, they always stare.” Men and women tended to stare at him. Jack was used to it. He didn’t even pay attention to it anymore.

Sean shook his head. “Not like this, man. This guy is like seriously obsessed with you. We’ve seen him in here every Friday night for over two months and every time he just sits back over there in his little corner and stares at you the entire time.”

Jack gave the man another covert look through his eyelashes. The man was still staring at him. It was a very focused look, centered directly on Jack and nowhere else. The man had been staring at him with that same intense gaze every time Jack saw him in the bar.

Sean was right. It was a little creepy. Jack was used to men staring at him. His thick muscled body, tall stature, and tight ass had a lot of men looking. Toss in the naturally tanned skin, the sunlight blond hair and sea blue eyes and Jack had been told he was every gay man’s wet dream.

He wasn’t so sure. If he was supposed to be every gay man’s wet dream what was he doing at a bar on a Friday night playing pool with his best friend instead of at home in bed getting laid?

Jack wished he could figure it out. He’d be a much happier man. As it was he was tired and once again facing a lonely bed when he got home tonight, which was just about how his life was every night. He should be used to it by now. He wasn’t.

Jack glanced at the man again. Yep, he was still staring. Jack stood up straight and handed his pool cue to Sean. He was fed up with this. Without saying a word to Sean, Jack walked away, crossing the room until he stood directly in front of the well dressed man.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the smaller man. Jack was used to his size and demeanor intimidating other people. He was surprised when the man simply raised a dark brown eyebrow at him then took a slow sip of his drink.

The man didn’t say anything. He simply continued to stare. He looked Jack up and down, an emotion shining in his eyes that Jack couldn’t quite place. It unnerved Jack in a way that few things could. He felt like this stranger could see right into his soul and pick out his deepest, darkest secrets.

“Is there a reason that you keep staring at me?” Jack bit out through his clenched teeth.

The man merely smiled. “If you didn’t want people staring at you, you wouldn’t spend so much time working on your physique, now would you?”

The cool rusty tone of the man’s voice sent shivers down Jack’s spine. “How’d you know that I work out?” Jack asked, starting to feel increasingly nervous. Was this guy some creepy stalker dude?

The man chuckled. “I know a lot about you.”

“Like what?” Jack challenged.

The man smirked. “I know that you like to work out. You also spend every Friday night in here playing pool with your friend, Sean. You only drink light beer and never more than three. And you always leave by midnight so that you can get to your job washing dishes at the cafe in the morning.”

“Have you been spying on me?” Jack asked, feeling partly outraged and partly intrigued.

“I don’t spy,” the man replied simply. “I have no need to.”

Jack’s eyebrows scrunched together in a frown. “Who are you?”

He was confused as he watched the man toss back the last of his drink and set the glass on the table. It was only as he stood up that Jack realized the man stood several inches shorter than him. He should have been intimidated by Jack’s height if not his sheer body mass. He wasn’t. He seemed to find it, and Jack, amusing in some way.

The man grabbed his dark brown jacket and pulled it on over his crisp white shirt. He tossed a few dollar bills on the table then turned to look at Jack. Jack almost jumped when the man reached over and gently ran his thumb across Jack’s lips.

“Jackson,” the man began as he took a step towards Jack.

“Huh? Wha—” How did this man know his name?

He leaned up, his lips close Jack’s ear, his deep masculine scent wafting over Jack. “You know who I am, pretty baby.” The softly whispered words sent shivers of longing down Jack’s body. He stood there in a dazed stupor as the man smiled then turned and walked away.

Jack watched him until he left the bar and disappeared into the night. He knew something profound had just happened but for the life of him, Jack couldn’t figure out what.


One simple brush of the man’s hands on his lips, seven simple words, and Jack’s entire body was poised on the edge of an earth shattering orgasm. Jack had never become so aroused so fast in his entire life.

Jack could feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He tried to wish his hard on away but the only thing he could see was the strange man’s deep copper colored eyes as they stared back at him. Jack groaned as another wave of desire flashed through him.

Spinning around, he opened his eyes and hurried to the men’s room. Thankfully, it was vacant when he went inside. Going into one of the stalls Jack closed the door and locked it. He leaned back against the side of the stall and reached for the zipper of his jeans.

Pulling his cock free, Jack stroked himself fiercely. He could feel the fire in his blood licking its way up his spine. He panted, his cock throbbing in his hand. He was on edge, but no matter how fast he stroked himself he couldn’t seem to fall over that edge into orgasmic bliss.

Suddenly, a picture of the man slipped into his mind. Jack cried out and came instantly, spurting all over his hand and the bathroom stall. His knees shook and threatened to give out on him. Jack quickly sat down on the toilet seat, his chest heaving with the intensity of his release.

Jack looked down at himself and grimaced. He was covered in spunk. He had jerked off in the men’s room of a bar to the mental picture of a complete stranger. He was crazy. He had lost his ever-lovin mind.

He suddenly didn’t feel so well. In fact, he felt pretty woozy. His stomach was churning and the orgasm he had experienced just moments before now felt somehow lacking. Oh, it had been one of the best orgasms Jack had felt in quite a long time, better even than several times he had been with a partner. And if that didn’t confuse Jack, he didn’t know what did.

Well, besides the fact that he had gotten off over some stranger…a stranger that had been staring at him for weeks and called him pretty baby in the deepest, sexiest whiskey voice Jack had ever heard.

Jack knew he had good looks. He had all of his life. Still, no one had ever made the words pretty baby sound quite the way that man had. It was spoken almost as an endearment and just thinking about it made Jack’s cock begin to rise again.

Jack groaned and reached for some toilet paper to clean himself off. Tossing the tissue into the toilet, he shoved his semi-hard cock back in his jeans and zipped them up. He was so fucking pathetic.

Shaking his head in disgust at himself, Jack unlocked the stall door and crossed to the sink. He washed his hands and cleaned a bit of his shirt where he had splattered cum. Then he wet a napkin and ran it over his face. He felt flushed.

Jack tossed the napkin in the trash and looked at himself in the mirror. He had the looks, the muscle bound body, the blond hair, the blue eyes. He had the whole package and sometimes he wished that he didn’t.

He couldn’t count the number of times he had found some nice guy and took him home only to find out the next morning that they were just sleeping with him because they wanted to brag to their friends that they had bagged the hot guy.

None of them seemed to want to stick around to find out what type of guy he was beyond his looks. None of them wanted to get to know the real him. He was more than a gorgeous body. He was also a mind and a heart and a soul and—Oh, to hell with it. Jack was going home. Alone!

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