Ring and Run


I was trying to just get the "poison out", so I can concentrate at work. You know, just blow a load so I'm not horny and can do work without distractions.  So, after everyone left the house in the morning, I hit the computer and the cam. I log onto Manhunt, and check the chat room. On occasion, I can get to watch some hot guys while I jerk-off.

I enter the room and there are, to my delight, a few hot guys online. One is very, very hot, from Pennsylvania, but, for today, good enough jerk-off material. I take off my briefs, and begin the ride. Hoping to be quick (yea, like I have any hope to do otherwise) I'm pretty hard, and still watching. A few guys are watching me, and that number is slowly increasing. I get a IM request, which, after seeing the guys profile,  I deny. Then another request, from someone that lives very close by and is someone I had emailed before.

He's younger, slim, and from his two pics, looks pretty hot. Last time we chatted, he said he didn't have a place. End of story..or just the beginning?

He asks to see my face, and I go private to show him. He says I'm handsome, look younger than my years.  Then he wants to check out "what he's going to get fucked by" and I show him the goods. "Hot" he says, and invites me over. Jeez, not what I was planning, but, hey, sometimes you gotta roll with the punches. I tell him I can be there in 15 minutes after I get dressed. Perfect.

He gave me his address, name (first and last) but no number. He says, he doesn't give out his number. Now, I can totally understand that, because I don't give out my number either. If I call you, it's from a blocked number. Anyway, I'm horny, looks like I'm going to get to fuck a hot slim guy in my neighborhood, so I go with it.

I drive to his apartment, and follow the instructions he gave me when I got there...second door on the left side and I checked to verify the name on the mailbox. I walk 3 flights up to his apartment, 3R. Ring the doorbell. A few seconds later, I hear footsteps and the door opens. There stands a guy, maybe 5'10" and about 300 pounds, with a beard. He stares at me, waiting for me to say something. Frantic, I'm thinking, what now?

"Frank?" I say.
"Yup" he responds. (Damn!)
"Uh, Frank Bostic?" I try.
"Yea" he says as he stares at me waiting to see why I've wrung his doorbell at 8:30 in the morning (Shit!)

 I don't know what to do. Did this guy juke me? like, try to get me over and now he thinks I'm gonna have sex with him even though he doesn't look like his pics? or did someone play a cruel trick?

"Uh, is there a Frank at 2R too?" I ask hopefully, but knowing that having two guys named Frank Bostic in the same town, in the same building, living above one another, would be realistically impossible.
"I have no idea" he says.
"Listen, I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong apartment. Sorry to bother you" I plead, hoping he doesn't pull me in, chop me up, and eat me before burying my bones in the dumpster out back.

I turn and walk down the stairs, wondering all the time..

How does this help the guy I was  talking to? Did he play this trick on me? On the Frank Bostic that lives there?  Is the guy that lives there some scorned lover of his, or enemy in some way? Is the guy trying to get at me, prove something to me? I mean, the guy isn't even there. He's not there to witness the "joke". What fun is that?

Just reinforces my original rule. If you're going to contact me, you can give me your number or forget it.

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