The Potent Phrase Pt. 01

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A gift from an old man begins to change my life.
4.6k words
4.52
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Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 07/19/2016
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This is the first part of an intended series. As an introduction to and explanation of the story's premise there isn't a lot of hard core sex in this first chapter (and what there is has a somewhat disturbing twist). Please bear with me and let's see where the story takes us in the subsequent chapters (I'm open to suggestions via comments or private messages). I hope you enjoy it...

*****

It was a quiet night at the bar when the old man came in and took a seat next to me. We exchanged nods and my favorite bartender, Jerrie, quickly brought him his usual tipple. Despite our lengthy conversation the previous week, I felt it appropriate to maintain our traditional near silence. I felt as though I had talked to him for several hours last time but I couldn't quite remember what we had discussed. Perhaps I was drinking too much lately!

The old man had been a regular since before my time. No-one knew much about him except that he lived nearby and came in - much like myself - on random days once or twice a week. No one was even sure if they knew his real name and we tended to refer to him simply as The Old Man. This bar seemed a strange choice for him, even more so than for me. Its core customer was a twenty-something from the nearby college whose lack of cash neatly matched their lack of alcohol tolerance. I assumed he, put up with their raucous energy and taste for loud music in return for their eye candy factor. Plus we both really liked the bartenders there.

Two drinks later, it was past midnight, the crowd was dwindling, and Jerrie had more time to hang out and chat. She was looking particularly good. She had her hair in two short braids (she said her AC was out at home and it was a rushed style) and she was wearing a rare skirt to defend against the hot and humid city night. She politely included the old man in the conversation but he didn't say very much. As things got even quieter she asked me for a cigarette and we went outside to smoke. As usual the alcohol had loosened my tongue and I remember I complimented her look and that she took it well. I liked this girl. Cute, interesting, and smart - a combination I can never resist.

After we settled back inside Jerrie came back to chat. This time the old man was more talkative. I thought perhaps I had overdone the alcohol because I kept having difficulty understand him or remembering what he had just said. In the midst of my confusion the conversation seemed to taken a remarkable turn.

"She's amazingly beautiful, isn't she Ralph?" He said to me in front of her. "So very sexy, especially tonight, right? What do you find most sexy about her?"

I couldn't stop myself: "She had beautiful legs and a great ass. She has perfect, medium-sized breasts and I have a mild obsession with seeing her in a one-piece speedo swimsuit."

I couldn't believe that I had said those things out loud! I had years of experience in the difficult art of breaking the bartender-friendship barrier. You have to show interest. You have to make subtle compliments. You have to tip well and bring little gifts (chocolate is always a good choice). What you didn't ever do was hit on them directly or discuss your deepest thoughts on their sexiness and swimsuit suitability. She blushed. I blushed. And bartenders never blush!

Things only got worse.

"Jerrie, what makes you feel sexy tonight?" The old man asked her.

Without hesitation she replied: "I have a tight lace thong and it feels very good on my ass and with this little skirt I keep thinking that someone will get an eyeful of my pussy when I bend down for the coolers. It's a little exciting"

"That's very interesting Jerrie. The only thing better than that would be not wearing anything below that skirt."

"Oh, no way! I couldn't!"

The old man said something confusing that I didn't really catch. Too many drinks, I though. Then he said:

"You could do anything you wanted Jerrie. Why don't you just try it for ten minutes? Why don't you go to the bathroom when you get a chance and then bring them to us to hold for you?"

To my amazement she just smiled at us both and moved off to serve one of the remaining customers. I sat quietly but the thought of her working butt-naked was stirring my cock. She finished with the other customer and walked off towards the toilets. I did little drunken head bob in disbelief but the old man just smiled at me. I took a healthy swig of my drink. Things were getting rather strange.

A few heavy sips later and Jerrie was back. She came directly to us rather than return behind the bar and stood in the gap between us. I felt the warm press of her thigh against mine with a sudden surge pleasure. She said something to the old man's ear while pressing the afore-mentioned thong into my hand below the level of the bar. The old man grinned and gave her a little hug. He said something to both of us that I didn't fully understand.

"...it's very kind of you to humor an old man, Jerrie, and it's certainly very exciting for me. Isn't it exciting for you too Ralph? You should check us both Jerrie and make sure we're appropriately appreciative."

With his words my half-hard cock sprang to full-blown erection with a suddenness I had never before experienced. Without hesitating Jerrie gripped my hard shaft through my jeans. I could see that her right hand was simultaneously doing the same to the old man. She squeezed me several times, feeling all along my length.

"Yes, I think you both appreciate me very nicely." She said.

"Indeed," said the old man, "we'll probably still be hard for you when you come back in ten minutes. Enjoy it!"

Jerrie returned behind the bar and served another couple of stragglers and chatted briefly to a couple of other regulars at the opposite end of the long bar. My cock stayed achingly hard. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I could still feel her tight grip on my cock. The old man smiled at me. After a few minute he raised a finger and got her attention. His drink was empty.

Jerrie sashayed over to us with a grin on her face: "Need me to do something else crazy or do you just want a refill?"

"A refill would be delightful, my dear, but since we're all being adventurous tonight perhaps I should try something different. What do you have in the bottom of that big cooler?" He asked indicating the large, top-opening refrigerator behind her.

"Oh, there are some craft beers at the bottom that are a bit too expensive for the student crowd."

I could barely focus on their seemingly normal conversation. My cock still throbbed and Jerrie's lacy thong was still gripped in my hand.

"I see, interesting, I haven't been a student for many years so maybe one from the deepest depths would be enjoyable..." he began but I just couldn't grasp the remainder of what he said.

"From the deepest depths of bottom?" She asked and he nodded.

Jerrie turned and slid open the heavy lid. She leaned in to inspect the contents. The deeper she dived to fulfil his request the higher her little black skirt rose. The bar was fairly dark as usual. The other (male) bartender was cleaning up the distant beer station and talking to the remaining regulars and walk-ins. The bouncer was outside trying to make the bar look busy. No one was paying attention to our little bubble of craziness.

Jerrie dug deep in the cooler and her skirt rose higher still. As she rummaged the old man and I fixated on the promised land between her sculpted thighs. With one last lunge she found what she was looking for and, for a second in the dim lights of the underbar, she showed us exactly what we wanted to see.

The bottom of her taut buttocks, the shaven slit, a dark suggestion of her opening, the moisture that was likely real but mostly imagined - these things are seared in my memory to this day. When she arose and turned with her triumphant prize I'm sure my eyes were like saucers and my mouth agape.

"I found it! You'll like this. It's a Raidburger Pilsner from Germany." She said (or something that sounded like that).

"Oh, it's a big bottle," said the old man, draining his usual tipple, "maybe pour half for me and half for Ralph as his drink is almost finished. Then I want to borrow him for a few minutes, will you be here till the close?"

She busied herself to get the bar's best approximation of a pair of pilsner glasses and poured first his and then mine.

"Yes, unfortunately, I'll be here till four even if there are no customers by then. Denny insists on it."

I lost focus for a moment again till the old man mentioned my name:

"Drink up Ralph, I need your help for a moment, give Jerrie back her panties, yes, yes, sniff them if you must, and I'll have you back to her long before the close."

Seemingly with a mind of its own, my hand brought the tiny white panties to my nose and I deeply inhaled the heady scent.

"Sniff, drink, sniff drink! Let's go!" The old man exhorted.

Jerrie just stood and grinned as I complied. My cock felt like it would explode. The crisp delightful beer and the warm heavy scent were spinning my head. The beer emptied and I held the thong to my nose for several more seconds. I'm sure I looked like the prehistoric village idiot discovering lace and elastic for the first time.

"Actually, I wonder if he could keep them for a while longer Jerrie? You don't mind do you? It's good to feel free on a hot sticky night. I think you'll feel really wonderful without them. Put them in your pocket and lets go Ralph"

"Yes. Feels good to be so free", Jerrie said in a weird tone but with a bright smile, "hot sticky night. See you later Ralph"

The old man rose and I followed automatically. We left the bar, turned left, and walked to the end of the block. Turning left again we walked East for a time and possibly South but I cannot for the life of me recall exactly where he lived or how long it took us to get there. As we walked the night's amazing event reverberated in my head but, to my relief, my cock had softened. If remember correctly it was a walkup and he lived on some middle floor. I can recall entering the apartment and him leading me into a spacious living room with antique-looking furniture and a full wall of book shelves. The old man indicated an overstuffed leather recliner and I sat.

I briefly wondered what I was doing there. The alcohol and the night's craziness buzzed within me but I began to focus clearly as the old man began to pace and talk.

"Ralph, my boy, I don't so much need your help with anything, well perhaps, indeed, a little demonstration would be fun, but rather I want to help you. I want to give you a little, hmm, a gift."

"Ralph, you are a good man with a good heart. I enjoyed talking to you about your life last week and what you told me backed up my observations of you over time. You use a scientific reasoning and logic to understand the world around you and yet you have a feeling that the universe is a complicated place that cannot be fully explained with human-grade formulas and theorems. You have a feeling that the complexities of quantum physics, string theory, and the like, hint at a more complex reality than these smart little monkeys will ever figure out before their inevitable demise."

"You have a great understanding of people, and a solid intuition, perhaps more with respect to the female of the species than the other, and you show great patience in dealing with women and our relationships with them. You so often get things right when it comes to the fairer sex and yet you screw up often enough to keep yourself on your toes."

"You also have had many real challenges in your life, many sadnesses too, and yet these experiences seem to always make you a better person, even a happier one. You also have had a lot of good luck in life but you have the wisdom to understand and appreciate the difference between what you have achieved by your own actions and what has been due to your dumb luck. You are a kind man, you respond strongly to injustice, and you balance 'de-escalation' with not 'taking crap' from anyone."

Finally, you also greatly enjoy sex in all its varieties. You see no shame in healthy sex of all kinds and you never tire of its performance or in its search. You enjoy kink but you have no need for perversion and you have a good feel for where lies the line between them. To you women are the ultimate sexual object and yet they are never just an object to you. You respect the homosexual, the homophobe, the asexual, and the hypersexual. You understand that one size doesn't fit all in the realm of sexual satisfaction but you understand the advantage of being in the mainstream of attractions.

"These things are important. These things define a 'real man' to me. But I am merely human myself, with my own foibles and egotism and so the reason I have decided to give my gift to you alone is because of your kindness to me. I won't waste our time to list all the little kindnesses you have shown me over the years. The details are not important: it is the intent and the simple thoughtfulness.

"And so, Ralph, I want to give a gift to you. And I want you to think of it as a vast extension of that famous luck of yours. I want you to appreciate this gift and to never abuse it. And some day, years from now, I want you to give it up and give it over to someone else. Someone like you. Someone like me. Someone that you think I would agree is worthy."

"You will have a dilemma as I have had. You will want to hold onto this gift till your final breath but your big heart will not let you risk it dying with you. Will you promise an old man, Ralph, that you will take my gift and treat it with this respect?"

I couldn't really speak. I couldn't bring myself to protest, to tell him I didn't need any gift from him. I couldn't find the right response for his kind words. I simply nodded assent.

My focus waivered for a moment as it had seemed to have been doing all night. The old man was saying something that I didn't really understand.

"Are you sure there isn't something I can help you with?" I found myself asking him.

He smiled at me: "Well perhaps... there was that little demonstration I mentioned..."

Suddenly I had the weirdest thought. Perhaps the old man is similar to me? I knew myself quite well and I knew that bi-sexuality was a scale that we all shared to some degree. In my case I was very comfortable that I was 98% hetersexual and 2% just well-suppressed curiosity. For some reason on this crazy night this frail old man was the unlikely target of that curious streak.

The old man halted his pacing in front of me and I sat forward in the chair.

I spoke: "Perhaps if we took a moment to remember how Jerrie got us that pilsner we would have the same reaction we had before and, since she isn't here, we could just check the results with each other?"

I had no idea where this idea had come from but my head filled with a vision of Jerrie's pretty bare ass, the glimpse of her bare pussy, and the feel of her warm panties in my hand. My cock didn't so much grow to its previous hardness - it lept.

I looked at the old man's crotch. He was wearing crisply creased khakis and I could make out a substantial bulge in them. Following my sudden urge I reached for his zipper and belt. I was a little awkward and inexperienced with this equipment but in a moment I had released his pants and was fishing out a warm hard cock from his boxer shorts.

I was fascinated with its soft hardness. I weighed it on my palm. I tentatively squeezed and stroked it.

"Yes, I can see why Jerrie enjoyed checking that reaction", I said, "you're definitely appreciating her properly. Let's check me too."

Still holding his long hard shaft I rose from the chair and released him just long enough to unbuckle my belt and push my jeans and underwear down my thighs. My cock sprung free and, in the limited space between us, bounced up against his. He smiled at me and took my cock in hand. He gently rubbed me against his own cock and my hand joined us.

"Yes", he said, "you seem to be appreciating her properly too Ralph."

I'm not sure if I had ever been harder and I certainly had never been so hard in such a bizarre situation. The old man grinned and spoke but I didn't really catch what he said:

"In her little lacy panties?" I found myself asking him.

"That's an interesting idea, Ralph."

I immediately bent down to my half-mast jeans and pulled out the lace thong.

"Do you remember her tight little cunt bent over that fridge Ralph?"

Without question it, I wrapped the thong around our two cock heads and I had barely finished when I felt my balls contract and the familiar feel of cum rushing up my cock. As my load shot into the panties the old many stiffened and, with a little gasp, added his own contribution. I felt amazing. I couldn't remember an ejectulation ever feeling as strong or as euphoric and this one.

The next few minutes were a blur. I remember cleaning both our cocks as best I could with the panties and I remember using a soft washcloth in the bathroom to finish the job properly on myself. I remember returning to the living room where the old man was recomposed and sitting in the recliner. I stood in front of him and he looked up at me. A smile lit his face and his eyes sparkled with a surprising energy.

"Ralph, my boy, did you enjoy that? It was a little strange, right? Strange urges we have sometimes?"

"I played a little trick on you as a small demonstration. A little example of the misuse of a power..."

He said something but I couldn't grasp it. He went on:

"You didn't expect to be jerking off an old man into a bartender's panties when you left home tonight Ralph, right?

Right! I was shocked. What had I just done? What the fuck had come over me?

"Well what the fuck had come over me apart from a crazy old man that is!" I internally joked. But this was no joke. It wasn't a crime against humanity but it was an act of insanity at the end of an evening of insanities. Did I have to rethink my drinking habits?

"Ralph, relax, you are not losing your mind. What just happened, what you just did was a little lesson for you. I made you do it. In all my years of fascinating adventures I never actually handled an erect male member and I thought it would be an unusual experience for us both. Something that will stay in your head for a little while."

Huh? He what? He made me do it?

"Pay attention to me..."

And then he said a strange, short, intricate phrase.

I could easily type the exact phrase here and you would have forgotten it by the end of of the paragraph. If I wrote it here you might even feel a sudden urge to favorite the story and award it five stars! But, of course, I cannot. Some smart geek (or thousands of them) would write some little perl script to massage the html source of the story and process the phrase to extract it in some way while nullifying its power over memory. Better safe than sorry.

"Don't forget what I just told you!" He continued and, of course, I never have.

"The phrase is your gift Ralph. Use it wisely. When the temptation to use abuse it arises - as it surely will - remember how you felt when you realised that you had just jerked off an old man and try to moderate yourself."

"The phrase only works on those who have some level of attraction to you. It will work with ease on a girl that already wants you. It will work with a little effort on a girl that doesn't think you're too hideous for words but would never normally bother to interact with you. If necessary, if you work hard, it will work with a 300-pound homophobic trucker who just approves of what you ordered for breakfast at the truckstop cafe. But it won't work on those who truly hate you or dislike you - although sometimes an enemy who has a grudging respect for you can be leveraged to your advantage."

12