Author: admin

‘My, look how big and strong you’ve grown, my son,’ Arata’s mamasan said with pride as she folded his kimono just so over his powerful, straight body. ‘The time is near for you to enter Lord Oraruto’s service.’

Both mother and son turned at the sound of the wheezing and hacking cough of the old one. Something they were saying had awoken her and set her off.

‘Beware,’ she cackled, shuffling up to mother and son. ‘Don’t listen to this woman, my grandson. And beware of the tea of the full moon.’

‘This ‘woman’ is your daughter, old one,’ Papasan exploded in anger from across the tatami mat. ‘You will speak of her with respect. She has the family interests ever before her.’

‘Family interests?’ the old one spat out in derision. ‘What are Yamashita interests to me and my blood? You were ever the climbers. You would do anything to be in Lord Oraruto’s good graces.’

‘And perhaps the disgrace of your family has its origins in not pleasing our daimyo,’ Papasan spat back. ‘Now be gone, you old crone. Your advice is not needed here.’

The old woman shuffled across the mat and disappeared behind a bamboo screen, but not before turning and pointing to her grandson and declaring once again, ‘Remember what I said of the tea of the full moon. Beware.’

When she was gone, Papasan looked over his handsome, strapping son. ‘Yes, I think your mother is quite right, Arata. I think it is time. Go to the family chest, Susumu, and help Arata pick out the finest of the family kimonos. And thank your mother, Arata, for thinking of and planning for your future and ours. I will climb the mountain to the castle and offer your services to our lord.’

‘Arigato, Mamasan,’ Arata murmured, not fully understanding why, only knowing that the Yamashitas had always served the daimyo of the Tokushima on the island of Shikoku and always would.

A few short weeks later, Arata was called for. He went around to his family members, saying his good-byes and gathering their best wishes. His mamasan’s eyes were watery with the momentousness of the occasion, and his papasan’s demeanor showed him that this was a time for steely resolve.

There was no old woman to see him off though.

‘Where is she?’ Arata asked with concern. ‘Is she not well? I cannot believe she would not be here to wish me good journey.’

‘She has gone to visit her family,’ Papasan said with a set mouth. ‘There was no need for her to be here.’

The fine silks of Arata’s many-layered kimono rustled in harmony with the sighing of the swaying pines as he mounted the stone steps to the castle. He was a fine, well-muscled young man, and he moved quickly and with grace. He required no light, as the moon was full, beckoning him to the top of the mountain, to the daimyo’s castle in the rustling pine forest.

Soon he was standing at the lowered drawbridge over a dry moat surrounding a high stone wall. The large wooden gates closed with a sense of finality after he had passed through them and was searched for weapons in a small courtyard just beyond. The grinding of the gates shut seemed to mark the separation of early life working in the fields, teasing the difficult land to yield succulent rice, and a life of privilege and opulence inside these walls. The plans and maneuverings of his clan, the Yamashitas, to have him accepted into the service of the daimyo had been intricate and delicate. Only the best-formed sons of the most worthy families were accorded this honor.

Arata was brimming with pride and curiosity and anticipation as he was led down the courtyard and entered yet another heavily gated entrance set at a right angle to the first at the outer end of the courtyard and entered into a wondrous world of delicate wooden pavilions interlocked and rambling across and melding with a fairytale landscape of gardens and groves of trees and rippling brooks and moonlit ponds.

He was guided through a progression of pavilions along a wooden walkway and into the center of a small grove in which old-growth bamboo shoots grew close together around a wooden platform jutting over a small, exquisitely designed pond. This obviously was a very private place. A tiered roof on slim wooden posts provided a covering for the platform, although there was an opening in the middle of the roof through which moonlight streamed down and concentrated on a single squat table between two billowy silken pillows. The hint of another pavilion nearby was the source of quiet, lilting music from a lute, which harmonized well with the sound of water passing into and out of the pond at some unseen source.

Seated on one of the cushions in a billowing pile if rich silk was the daimyo himself, Lord Oraruto. Arata recognized him from seeing the lord’s lavish parades up and down the mountain whenever he traveled to the faraway court in Kyoto.

Lord Oraruto was a magnificent sight. Towering head and shoulders over anyone else in his retinue, he had a strong, stern face and was reputed to be perfectly formed. He certainly was battle tested; a warrior among warriors.

Now, however, he was alone on the tatami mat laid over the richly polished wood of the platform and seemed to be lost deep in contemplation. No one else was there, and when the escort had motioned Arata to the other cushion at the table, the two seemly were entirely alone, although Arata could sense lurking eyes of those ready to respond to the daimyo’s every wish.

Arata had just arrived to take up service with his lord and he already was alone with the great daimyo. He was almost overcome with the honor of the occasion and the privilege that was being bestowed on him by a private audience.

The table was bare except for an exquisite tea set. Two squat tea pots and two cups, matched and intricately carved.

The daimyo said nothing. He just poured tea from one pot in a cup for himself and tea from the other pot into a cup set in front of his young visitor. A beam from the strong full moon poured through the opening in the pavilion roof and spotlighted the tea set.

Arata felt overwhelmed. His lord was offering him tea by his own hand. There was little in life more significant than this. This was nothing less than a marriage contract. Through this ceremony, Lord Oraruto was accepting the Yamashita clan’s offering of their fairest son to the service of their lord.

Lord Oraruto motioned for Arata to take up the tea cup and to drink, and Arata did so with trembling hands. In turn Lord Oraruto took up his own cup and drank deeply from it. He was watching Arata carefully, though, as he drank his tea. And when the young man had finished, Lord Oraruto immediately poured him another cup and bade, with hand signals, for the young man to drink up, which he did.

The tea was sweet and intoxicating on Arata’s tongue. He wondered where such a wonderful drink came from. It was putting him into a dreamy state, and he felt his senses sharpening. He felt almost as if he could rise and float over the fairyland set inside the daimyo’s far-flung castle.

Lord Oraruto was smiling at him now, and Arata began to hear a slow, dull drum beat mixed in with the lute music from across the pond or was that just the pounding in his ears or of his heart?

The tea in the pot set aside for Arata was drained into the cup, and Arata drank the last of it, hungrily. Servants rushed in and swept away the table and tea set, but Arata hardly noticed their coming and going. His mind was dissembling, and his thoughts were fleeting. He was floating above all this and briefly hoped that his altered state of mind wasn’t being noticed by his lord. He was slightly embarrassed, not being able to hold his tea. He had grown up on much stronger drink than this. He had no idea that tea could be so intoxicating.

Lord Oraruto had moved his cushion quite closely in front of Arata now, so that it was positioned where the tea table had been.

From the folds in his heavily layered kimono, the daimyo produced brush paintings on rice paper and turned them for Arata to examine. Arata blushed at what was being depicted in these paintings, but he was involuntarily aroused as well. That tea and its effect on his senses had dulled his natural aversion to what he had seen. He had seen such drawings before, but they had been very crude, not beautifully brushed as these were.

His eyes drank in the exotic couplings being presented on the rice paper, and he felt his body stirring as it did when he watched the young women of his village bathe themselves from the secret observation posts that he and the other young men had developed over generations of village life.

He heard more than felt at first the rustling of the silks. Those of the daimyo as his hands drew out of the folds of his kimono and then of the silk of his own kimono, as the daimyo pulled away the folds just enough for his hands to slip in.

More rustling and Arata felt strong hands on his body inside the billowing layers of silk. He felt he should be doing something in response, in defense, but the drugged tea possessed his mind and opened his sensitivity to the pleasure of touch, and his eyes could not tear themselves from the erotic paintings that had been placed before him. And arching over all of that was his sense of history, of the many generations of Yamashitas, whose fortunes now rested on him. The Yamashitas were being honored and given good fortune. He was being honored and given good fortune.

He felt the silks being pulled gently apart across his chest, and a single puckered nipple was exposed to the evening breezes and then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with the daimyo’s lips.

At the same time, the daimyo’s strong hands had parted Arata’s inner thighs and were taking possession of the young man’s hardening cock.

Arata let the erotic paintings slowly slide out of his hands and he began to struggle mentally over what was happening, loving the touch on his cock and the sucking at his nipple, but knowing that this somehow shouldn’t be happening. He was murmuring, thinking he was asking for this to stop, if only for the moment until he could adjust to what was to happen. But it came out more as sighs and moans. His mind was not yet fully lost, but his body was. He was responding to the daimyo’s touch on his cock, rising to his touch and beginning to undulate at the hips. The beat of the drum seemed to meld with his responses to the touching. It increased the beat in both rhythm and intensity.

Lord Oraruto moved one of his hands away from Arata’s member long enough to take his young ‘offering’s’ hands and guide them into the folds of his own kimono, placing them on his own strong, erect phallus, giving his young recruit a good notion of the power and strength and determination and intention of him.

More rustling of silk and the kimonos became one pile of rich fabric now, patterns and colors melding together, still covering the two men fully except for that one nipple being brushed and suckled by searching lips.

But underneath, inside that merged collection of layers of silk, two bodies had come together. Arata was sitting in and straddling the daimyo’s lap now and the daimyo was holding their erect cocks together and stroking them in unison. The beat of the drum increased, overpowering the strains of the lute, becoming louder and more insistent in its beat.

From somewhere in the folds of his kimono, the daimyo produced a magic lotion, a lotion he was now rubbing into Arata’s virgin, puckered hole, making it loosen and widen and become a bit more numb. He was biting Arata’s nipple now and fingering the young man’s hole, taking slow but steady and relentless possession of his new offering with searching fingers.

Arata gave a muted scream of pain and filling as the daimyo lifted his hips with both of his hands and skewered him firmly on his powerful cock and pulled the young man deeply into his lap.

The young offering arched his back and his face turned skyward and was bathed in the beam of the full moon streaming through the opening in the pavilion ceiling as he began to move his hips, meeting the natural rhythm of his lord with that of his own, his fears and concerns melting away in a natural, primeval motion tracing its way up through the ages.

Rustling silk. Thrust. Moan. Drum beat. ‘Beware the tea of the full moon.’ Thrust. Groan. Drum beat. ‘Beware the tea of the full moon.’ Thrust. M-o-a-n. Drum beat. ‘Beware . . . .’ Aiyeeeeee.

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My heart was beating fast as Peter leaned over and touched my hand. Other people around us in the coffee shop did not seem to notice that. The coffee shop was actually a part of the hotel area where Peter stayed. Several Caucasian guys, older and younger, walked passed our table. Some of them were eyeing on me. But my eyes were fixed to Peter. That brown-haired hunk threw me a naughty grin, rubbing my hand. I reciprocated it with a shy smile. Peter was the first gay white man I met face-to-face. It happened that he flew down to the city where I live, thus we decided to meet. As he spoke, he literally melted my heart away with his sexy British accent. Uncontrollably, my cock began to stir. Both of my eyes were fixed on Peter’s upper shirt, as some of its buttons were undone. A broad firm chest was clearly outlined under that white shirt. My inquisitive eyes spotted his nipples vaguely as the shirt was somewhat thin.

In his early 30s, as a Caucasian man, he was quite attractive. The perfect outline of his body could not be concealed by the short he wore. His swimmer-like body looked so strong underneath that thin fabric. He must have worn it to tempt my lust. Adequate amount of arm hair grew all over his arms, emphasizing his masculinity. His square jaw was matted with stubble, letting me know that he had not shaved in days. The stubble created a vague shadow over his jaw, strengthening his aura of sexiness. The fact that he was still in his early 30s excited me since I liked older manly men like him.

‘Wow, you’re sexier than I thought. You’re my Oriental delight,’ he spoke, squeezing my hand. ‘So, are you really 26? Coz you look much younger.’ His blue eyes were gazing at me with a longing look. ‘Your skin is so smooth. Man, you turn me on. My cock is hard for you,’ he whispered, not wanting people to hear his dirty remark. Under the table, that white man took off one of his shoes. ‘Yeah, are you horny, too? I bet you are, right?’ He lifted his sock-sheathed foot and moved it to my crotch. To his expectation, he found my cock throb excitedly.

Upon my cock being touched, I flinched with surprise. My hard dick was milked up and down along its shaft. Peter’s foot skillfully stimulated my manhood, knowing what spots to touch. My body shuddered passionately. ‘Oh, Peter, you make me so horny,’ I gasped, trying to act normal. Both of my legs stiffened, shivering with lust. People around us were not aware of what happened under our table. Throbbing, my cock gained full erection. A globule of precum oozed out and wetted my briefs. Heaving, my breath became uneven. ‘Oh yeah.’ Soft gasp escaped my quivering lips. Lust started to get a grip on my mind. I wanted so much to have sex with Peter. Sensually, I snaked out my tongue and licked my upper lip. It was a sexual declaration that I wanted him.

Peter grinned, obviously horny. His broad smile was a clear sign saying that he wanted me. At that point, he definitely felt that something lustful could happen between us. Peter then moved his foot down along my leg, sending delightful shiver down my spine. Pulling back his leg, he sat up straight and gave me a wink. ‘I like you a lot. You’re the hottest oriental guy I’ve ever seen. And I wanna have you in my bed. Come to my room.’ He left me his room number, walking away. A Chinese man, who seemed to be gay, followed Peter’s movement with his eyes until Peter disappeared into the elevator. But Peter did not give him any attention, for his mind had been focused on me.

‘Damn! This hard-on!’ I cursed silently, massaging my erection secretly. If I stood up at then, I would be embarrassed by the tent in my trousers. It took several more minutes until I could get up and left the table. The erection had subsided but it left a wet stain on the front of my light brown trousers. My face reddened when an older Javanese man passed by. He saw the visible stain of obscenity on my trousers but said nothing. I quickly walked to the elevator, heading for Peter’s room.

Several minutes passed until I finally stood in front of Peter’s room. Nervously, I tried to knock on the door. But before my hand touched the wooden door, it was swung open. There, stood Peter in his white light dressing gown. The upper part was hanging open, exposing the narrow valley between Peter’s hard chest mounds. My eyes could not stop staring at his chest, hoping to see more of it. The precumming limp cock in my briefs began to stir and harden. I quickly stepped in and the door was shut behind me.

Aggressively, Peter took hold of my shoulder and turned my body around. Pushing me, he drove me up to the wall. I was pinned there. Our lustful eyes met, gazing at each other’s face. Peter’s athletic torso was slightly lifted as he inhaled deeply. Warm breath was blown against my face when he exhaled. Suddenly, he lunged forward and pressed his lips against mine. Both of his hands were roughly grappling with my clothes. The kiss broke off for a moment when he pulled my T-shirt over my head. My smooth oriental body came into the view, fuelling his desire. That horny white man resumed his passionate kiss. While locking his lips with mine, his strong hands reached down to unzip my trousers. Yanking hard, he shucked off my trousers, as well as my briefs. I was stark naked in front of him. Throbbing shamelessly, my uncut cock displayed its hardness.

Peter was excited to see my 5′ cock, for it was his kind of cock. Although my cock had reached full erection, the head was still hooded by the thick foreskin. Wet stain of my earlier-discharged precum coated my dick head. Purplish veins bulged under the foreskin. Peter became more excited to see that my pecker was shaved. It certainly created the illusion that my cock was bigger. Under the base of my cock hung a heavy ball sack.

I did not give him much time to admire my cock for I could hardly restrain my own lewd passion. I wrapped my hands around his body. Roughly, I jerked at the fabric. Instantly, his dressing gown dropped to the floor, revealing his perfect naked body. I caught a glimpse of his thick 6′ cut cock. The look of that thick meat gave me the sexual shivers. Being overwhelmed by desire, I jumped at Peter. ‘I want you, Peter,’ I groaned, running my lips on his broad shoulder. The faint fragrance of his cologne filled my nostrils, which was such a turn-on for me. Hungrily, I was licking his bare skin, savoring its taste.

‘Oh baby, I want you, too,’ Peter replied, heaving. Bending his neck, he also launched a tongue attack on my neck. We both swept our wet warm tongue across each other’s body, admiring each other’s physical gift. ‘You’re so damn hot, I wanna fuck your ass.’ Lightly, he bit my neck. The teeth of his sank into my flesh but they did not tear it. Grunting, he blew his breath against my skin, warming it up. His tongue was snaking across my skin, slobbering with saliva. Wrapping his strong muscular arms around my naked waist, he held me possessively.

‘Peter, ah, fuck me. Fuck my ass now. Please fuck me,’ I begged, being held captive in his strong arms. I moaned as I was grinding my hard-on against his rippled abdomen. Peter’s erection was throbbing under my ball sack, rubbing it. ‘You make me so horny. Ah, I’m yours to fuck. Take me, Peter. Take my ass.’ With my back against the wall, I slipped both of my hands under his armpits. From behind, I bent and locked my arms to his shoulders. Holding onto his broad shoulders, I kept him close to my body. ‘Peter, oh, man. Fuck me now, please,’ I begged.

‘Not yet, baby,’ he replied, nuzzling my neck. ‘I wanna taste your cock. I bet that your cock tastes so good.’ With that, he trailed his tongue down my body. Sniffing, he took in the scent of my body. ‘You smell good, ah,’ he breathed lustfully. Adeptly, his flexible tongue swept my skin up and down. The area touched by his tongue glistened with saliva. ‘Oh, I love your smooth body. I can’t wait to put my hardness in you.’ Both of his strong hands were groping my back, feeling how smooth my skin was. As Peter bent his body, my grip on his shoulders were loosened. ‘You’re so damn sexy,’ he whispered, still licking my body.

When he reached my fleshy torso, Peter flicked my left nipple with his tongue. First, he swabbed it thoroughly to coat it with saliva. As he was doing that, I moaned lustfully. The stimulation I had was too overwhelming. I could not help squirming. Yet, with his strong arms, Peter steadied my body and pinned it to the wall. Later, he utilized his tongue to press the head of my nipple several times. It sent electric-like jolt through my naked body. Peter then sucked my left nipple with loud slurping sound. Writhing, I groaned loudly. My chest was heaving up and down, yet my left nipple was still in his sucking mouth.

‘Peter, ah,’ I whimpered, running my hand in his cropped brown hair. My stomach contracted involuntarily as the nerves were stimulated by Peter’s sucking. Cold sweat emerged out of the pores. As my heart beat faster, Peter exerted more strength to suck my nipple. I was literally pinned to the wall, unable to move. Yet, my whole muscles flexed as the result of Peter’s suction. My cock did not lose its erection. On the contrary, it grew harder. Precum continued to ooze from the slit. The thick foreskin covering my cock head was pooled up with my precum juice. But the slippery liquid soon overflowed and ran down the shaft. My groan continued to echo when Peter targeted my right nipple. The same treatment was given to that sensitive part.

The tongue trailed down my contracting stomach. Some beads of sweat were lapped up by that hungry tongue. The writhing of my body did not obstruct Peter’s relish in tasting my body. When he arrived at my shaved crotch, the front of my upper body had been coated with his saliva. Peter treated my cock like a precious jewel. Gingerly, he ran his tongue on my hardening shaft back and forth. Using one hand, he positioned my hard cock so that he could lick it better. While pulling my foreskin back, Peter tried to loosen my tight foreskin. But it still gripped the head of my cock. Flicking the tight foreskin ring around my dick head, Peter applied an adequate amount of saliva to lube it up.

‘Your foreskin is so damn tight,’ he complained, stroking my cock. But it did not stop him from eating my cock. Hungrily, the tongue scooped up any trails of precum left on my cock. As he flicked my dick head, he obtained a handsome amount of precum. Encasing my peter with his mouth, Peter sucked my cock as hard as he could. The remains of cum left my cock and entered his mouth. The horny white man started to suck my cock earnestly.

‘Oh Peter, yeah,’ I moaned, closing my eyes for a moment. Pleasure crawled up my naked body, radiating from my sucked dick. Even though the cock was still covered with foreskin, the suction still felt pretty good. Especially when Peter tongued my piss slit in penetrative movement. My body buck again as I could not bear the overwhelming ecstasy. ‘Ah! Suck my cock, Peter. Oh yeah, suck me.’ That was all that I could say. My entire body was radiating with pleasure. I put my other hand on his head, grabbing his short hair. But the hair slipped off my hand. I could feel his cheeks glide down the sides of my prick. With each stroke, he took my cock a bit deeper into his mouth.

The suction increased in rhythm. Standing against the wall, I took in deep breath as he was vacuuming my cock. Suddenly, my cock slid in all the way, passing his throat. The sensation my cock head received was incredible. Peter paused for a while and maintained my cock there for a moment. All I could do was trembling. My mouth groaned out my approval. That Caucasian man then continued to suck my mouth. But he did it more furiously, as if he had lost his patience. With his hand, he gripped the base of my hard dick. The target of his tongue was still my piss slit. More and more precum was produced. Peter licked it clean with relish.

In his kneeling position, Peter rigorously slid his mouth back and forth over my throbbing manhood. Looking down, I could see his cock was pulsating excitedly. Precum flowed out of the slit, dripping onto the carpeted floor. Reaching down with one hand, Peter gave his dick a hard squeeze. A big glob of pearly precum was stretched down to the carpet as soon as that liquid was discharged. Peter’s athletic chest was heaving up and down. His brownish erect nipples moved along with it. Warm breath was blown against my crotch as Peter was struggled with his growing lust.

Our bodies were coated with thin film of sweat. The sound of our heavy breaths resounded around the room. Peter still loyally sucked my hardness. Saliva was dripping down my shaft as his lips parted slightly. His hands reached up to my nipples. As soon as they were found, their erect heads were pinched lightly. Familiar electrical jolt coursed down my body again as my nipples were very sensitive. Grunting, I abandoned myself to the pleasure I received. I let lust grow in me and turned into orgasm. My cock in Peter’s mouth jerked as a glob of precum was exuded out. That man really knew how to make me horny. His tongue continuously serviced my hard dick.

Pulling away from my cock, Peter wrapped his strong hand around my throbbing cock. Looking up at me, he encouraged me to spill my loads. ‘I want to see you cum, sexy stud. Come on. Shoot your warm loads. I wanna taste it. A hot oriental guy like you must have lots of juicy cum in your big fucking balls,’ he said, groping my balls with his other hand. Roughly, his strong gripping arm was sliding back and forth. My cock head was being milked to frenzy. ‘Yeah, I know you’re close. Don’t hold it. Just shoot it. Yeah, give me your loads. Cum for me, baby. Oh yeah, you wanna cum so bad, don’t you? Cum now.’

My cock was throbbing harder. The precum stain had smeared the head. At then, precum had lubed underneath the foreskin very well. Somewhat the tight skin began to budge. All of a sudden, Peter brought his hand down. Its strong force had pushed the foreskin further down. But the hand did not stop there; it kept pushed my foreskin down. Slowly, my cock head came into the view, glistening with massive amount of precum. It was bulging in such a way that I thought it was going to burst. Peter’s fingers took a firm hold on my pulsating cock. Frequently, they would press down to massage my meat. I was wincing in both pain and pleasure as the over-tight foreskin forced its way over the glans. The traces of white substance were found on the slimy dick head. They gave out acrid smell. Gripping Peter’s broad shoulders, I groaned. The cock slit gaped open as the head was somewhat being pressed and pulled. Even though he did not stroke my cock in conventional jerking-off movement, I still obtained the same masturbatory pleasure.

‘Come on, shoot your cum,’ Peter demanded. ‘I wanna see your cum shooting out of your dick. Yeah, spurt it high into the air. Oh, let me smell your cum. Let me taste it. Oh yeah,’ he added, adding more pressure on my foreskin. Leaning forward, he brought his face close to my cock head. Flicking the piss slit, he scooped up precum with his tongue. ‘Yeah, you’re so wet. I know that you’re close to cumming. Yeah, your cock drips lots of precum.’ Caressing my thigh, Peter tried to amplify the stimulation. My dick head had been already half exposed. The other half was still hidden under the tight prepuce. Peter buried the cock into his warm mouth. Instantly, my body jerked with great excitement as the very sensitive cock surface scraped against the walls of his inner mouth. That horny man continued his suction.

I could no longer hold off my ejaculation. It was too overwhelming. ‘Oh, I can’t hold it. I’m cumming, Peter! I’m cumming, ah!’ At then, my cock burst, spraying thick cum into Peter’s mouth. The pressure from my foreskin had caused the first spurt of my cum to be so powerful. It jetted out and hit the back of Peter’s throat. The slimy white cum crawled down the throat lazily. But more cum shots followed. ‘Ah! Fuck! Oh! I’m cumming! Oh! Drink my cum, Peter! Take it! Oh!’ The muscles in my body grew taut. I arched my pelvis and buried my cumming cock in his oral orifice. Orgasm swept my body, leaving me breathless. Panting, I jerked violently. My groans filled the room with passion. Peter was sucking my cock with great enjoyment, taking in every drop of my bitter juice. I felt my cock jet its loads eight times. Each shot grew weaker and carried lesser amount of cum. ‘Oh!’ I moaned out when finally no more cum was shot. As the climax subsided, I found myself extremely worn out.

Peter pulled my cock out. That meat had grown limp, losing its erection. The foreskin slid down to cover the whole cock head from the outside world. A drop of cum hung at the tip of my cock. Suddenly, Peter stood up. Like a hungry tiger, he pinned my tired sweaty body to the wall. His handsome face approached mine menacingly. And the next thing I knew, he forced a slobbering kiss to my lips. The tongue parted my lips, entering my mouth. As I opened my mouth, a flood of cum rushed into my mouth. It turned out that Peter did not drink my cum; he held it in his mouth. The gooey liquid was mixed with his saliva. I could taste how delicious my cum was. It tasted better because it came from his mouth. Like love-crazed lovers, we locked our lips together in passionate kiss, exchanging spit and cum. As we kissed, Peter ground his hard cock against my crotch. The kiss finally ended when both of us gulped down our share of the cum.

‘Oh man, I want you so much, baby,’ Peter hissed, looking me straight in the eyes. Placing one hand on my back, he made me lean over. Then his other hand quickly supported my legs. Exerting all his strength, Peter lifted my naked body up. ‘Yeah, today you’re my wife and I’m gonna fuck your man cunt.’ He grinned when I wrapped my hands on his torso. Gingerly, he laid my body on the bed. Leaning forward, he kissed me again. At the same time, he jumped up to the bed and fell next to me. ‘Yeah, you’re mine, baby,’ he resumed, satisfied to finally have me by his side. Rolling my body to face him, Peter embraced me. He made sure that he rubbed his hardness well against my limp cummy cock. ‘Please me, before I fuck your ass,’ he hissed, licking my face. ‘Suck my cock. Make it ready for your hole.’

I did what he asked without any delay. Getting up, I crawled down his body. Kneeling next to his legs, I bent down to bring my face close to his giant manhood. Its length was moderate, but its girth was amazing; almost as thick as a can of beer. My own limp cummy dick was hidden between my thighs. His hard cock was sticking up, throbbing in full erection. The shaft was coated with a heavy layer of precum. A beautifully-shaped mushroom head stood before me. It was glistening with slimy precum. Its reddish purplish color was attracting my eyes. Using my tongue, I lapped up the head from bottom to top. As my tongue swept across the glistening head, it collected some precum. The salty tang hit my taste buds. The more I licked Peter’s cock, the more precum I obtained.

Lying on the bed, that horny Caucasian man could only groan. His body shuddered slightly as pleasure washed over him. ‘Oh yeah, lick my hard cock, baby. Yeah, it needs your tongue. Oh yeah, lick it,’ he groaned, writhing his naked body. His eager cock pulsated as I ran my tongue around its helmet. But when I encased his cock in my mouth and began to suck, Peter exclaimed, ‘Oh, baby! You do know how to suck! Yeah, do it. Ah yes!’

That cock stretched my mouth beyond its capacity. I had hard time to slide that monstrous tool into my hungry mouth. All I could move were my tongue and my cheek muscles. But Peter’s cock was very juicy. Precum just kept oozing out. Sensually, I wrapped my tongue around the helmet. I rubbed the corona, arousing his sensitive nerves. Loud groans escaped his mouth whenever I touched the cock head with my tongue. The underside of that helmet was also lapped up. More precum was produced, to my pleasure. Like mine, Peter’s cock was hairless. With one hand, I was stroking that manhood. Peter’s broad chest was expanding as he pumped air into his lungs. His breathing rhythm became uneven. Knowing he was close to cumming, I increased the intensity of my licking. But suddenly, Peter pushed me away.

‘Not now, baby,’ he breathed, sitting up. Sweat beads glistened on his sexy pectorals. That broad menacing chest was heaving up and down. Those two erect nipples followed the movement. Leaning over, he landed another sloppy kiss on my lips. His thick hard cock rested against the stomach, still throbbing. A steady rivulet of precum flowed down his abdomen, leaking from the cock. ‘My first load is for your bowels. I want to shoot it deep inside of you, to impregnate you with my seeds.’ Peter ran his hand on my face, admiring my oriental feature. ‘Lie down, and let me make love to you,’ he added.

Crawling back, I lay down on my back. My head rested on the pillow as my heart was pounding with great excitement. I saw that handsome white man approach me. A pillow was in his hand, which was later shoved under my hips. Spreading my legs, I exposed my fuck canal. A number of guys had plunged their manhood into my ass, but they had not loosened it up. Peter ran his callused hands over my thighs, savoring its smoothness. His eyes showed so much lust. The monstrous cock could not wait to lodge itself into my fuck hole. Peter’s strong arms lifted up my legs, his biceps bulging. My legs were then moved onto his broad shoulders. My ass hole was twitching as cold air caressed it. Peter’s eyes widened as he witnessed how tight my ass seemed to be.

‘Yeah, my baby has a tight fuck chute,’ he said, spitting on his hand. That hand was brought to my ass hole. The spit was then rubbed over the hole. My ass chute reacted by increasing the intensity of its twitching. ‘Oh, you’re horned up, huh? Let’s see how tight your ass really is,’ he grunted, forcing his index finger to enter my clenched hole. ‘Fuck! It’s damn tight.’ Peter made fucking movement with his hand, slowly opening up my hole. As the tip had gained better entry, he shoved the entire finger in. ‘Oh fuck! Your ass is clamping my finger. You’re one horny slut,’ he commented, grinning lewdly. His other hand was stroking his own erection to keep his cock hard.

‘Ah!’ I groaned upon receiving that finger. The finger itself was rather thick, larger than Asian fingers. ‘Fuck me, Peter! Oh, fuck!’ That was just a finger but I had been made breathless. It reminded me of a local Chinese guy who fucked my ass; his cock was a big as Peter’s finger. ‘Peter, it feels so good, oh,’ I groaned like a slut in heat. The penetration of that finger aroused my flaccid cock. Gradually, that meat grew harder and stood up. Grabbing my own tool, I was jerking it off. ‘Peter, fuck! Oh, shove it deeper. Ah,’ I moaned, writhing on the bed.

‘Yeah, my baby is in heat,’ Peter teased, preparing his middle finger. Carefully, he shoved it in to join the index finger. My ass lips were pushed in to provide space for that second finger. It caused some pain and I groaned out. ‘Relax, hottie. Take my fingers first. Then you can take my big cock. Yeah, like that. Suck my fingers in. That’s it, baby.’ My ass hole was full with those two thick fingers. They started to fool my ass, creating the illusion that a real cock was stuffed into my ass. Lewdly, Peter was sliding those fingers in and out. ‘Feel them, baby. Oh, your ass begins to loosen up a bit. Oh yeah, my cock will soon be in you.’

‘Oh, Peter, your fingers are big,’ I whimpered, trashing my head. ‘But I like it. Keep fucking me, oh. Peter, yeah, fuck me with your fingers. Open up my fucking ass,’ I groaned again. Sweat started to dampen my naked body again. Every pore on my body opened up and secreted sweat. A small rivulet of sweat was formed between the mounds of my chest. But as my body shuddered, the sweat overflowed to the side and flowed down to the bed. ‘Fuck me, Peter. Ah,’ I groaned again as I increased the stroking of my cock. Precum oozed out, smearing my hand. When Peter forced another finger in, I let out a louder groan. ‘Oh fuck! Ah!’

‘Take it like a man, baby. It’s only fingers. My cock is much thicker. You know that, don’t you,’ he whispered, rubbing his cheek to my thigh. ‘Oh man, your thigh is so smooth, unlike other guys’. I like sexy smooth oriental guys like you. Shit! You gave me hard-on,’ he continued, maintaining the jerking motion on his cock. His three fingers were planted deeper into me, moving in and out. ‘Yeah, I’m gonna make you horny before I shove my cock into you.’ And with that, Peter plunged his fingers deep into my bowels. When he felt a small organ in me, he waved his fingers in circular motion. As they brushed against my prostate, an overwhelming ecstasy washed over my body. Instantly, my body stiffened and my heart beat faster.

‘Oh, Peter! Fuck!’ I groaned with pleasure. The orgasmic-like wave coursed down my body, jolting it. Precum was flowing down my cock in great amount. The harder I jerked my cock, the looser my foreskin became. It was retracted down but got stuck half-way. ‘Peter, I’m gonna cum, oh fuck!’ I cried, shuddering. My head was reeling with passion. Not wanting to cum, I let my cock go. That excited cock throbbed hard for several times before it began to get limp. But Peter seized it.

‘Cum for me, again. I wanna see you cum. I’m gonna milk your cock until it’s dry. Yeah, come on, baby. Shoot for me again,’ he demanded, sliding his palm up and down my throbbing cock. The coarse palm was scraped against the sensitive surface of my cock head. It brought me both pain and pleasure. ‘Your groan is music to my ears,’ he commented, milking my cock with great determination. ‘Yeah, I’m gonna make you cum until you have nothing to shoot. Baby, you’re so damn hot.’ As his hand was milking my manhood, his other hand was busy with my ass hole. ‘Shoot your cum. Shoot it,’ Peter demanded, watching me with much intent.

Again, Peter forcefully brought his hand down on my cock and forced my tight foreskin to slide downward. The prepuce which was stuck half-way down the dick head started to bulge. However, the foreskin ring was stretched almost beyond its capability, looking as if it was going to torn apart. I was wincing in pain as he forced my foreskin down. Yet, my cock was getting more excited. The same earlier technique was applied for the second time. Peter was massaging my dick with his fingers as he kept pulling down the skin. White substance hidden under the prepuce came into the view. Peter was a great fan of smegma. Bending down, he stuck out his tongue. My body was shaking excitedly as the cock head was being licked.

‘Oh, I can’t take it anymore. Peter, oh!’ I whimpered when Peter brushed my prostate with his fingers for the umpteenth time. It soon set me off on orgasmic explosion. ‘Ah! fuck! I’m cumming!’ I yelled, thrusting my hips upward. A geyser of hot cum was sprayed upward, all of a sudden. It did not shoot up high. The strong force of the orgasm came mainly from the pressure applied on my dick head. ‘Ah! Oh! Cumming! Ah, Peter! Oh!’ Orgasmic groans filled the room, echoing. My sweaty body was jerking upward, fucking Peter’s wrapped hand. Cum continued to shoot out. Yet, owing to the weaker ejaculation strength, that gooey liquid was dribbling down the shaft. My legs on Peter’s shoulders were shaking violently. I could not control them. Pure ecstasy flowed through my body. The second orgasm was even much better compared to the first one. Sighing, I shuddered as orgasm left me. Peter’s hand was covered in thick layer of cum.

‘Good boy. You shot a lot,’ he commented. Bringing the hand to his own lips, Peter slurped it all. Hungrily, he cleaned his hand from my cum. ‘Your cum tastes so good. It’s grade-A cum.’ Carefully, he withdrew his fingers from my ass. Each finger left my ass hole with a faint popping sound. Emptiness filled my bowels, replacing those penetrating fingers. ‘You’re mine today. And I’m gonna use your body to satisfy my lust,’ Peter said, grabbing his still-hard manhood. Glistening with precum, the cock throbbed eagerly. ‘Your hole is quite loose now. You’re ready for my cock,’ he added, beaming at me.

Both of my legs were still on his shoulders. Normally, I needed time to rest after ejaculation. But Peter did not give me any chance for that. Displaying his rock-hard throbbing male member, that white man prepared himself to penetrate my fuck chute. I could only lay there, tired out. My cummy cock rested on my stomach, bathed with cum. Reaching forward, Peter wiped the sweat off my heaving torso. Aggressively, he was fingering both of my semi-erect nipples. His adept fingers had stirred both of them into full erection. My body was tired but it was forced to enjoy another sexual stimulation. Thrashing, I was helplessly under Peter’s control.

‘Get ready, slut. I’m gonna fucking fuck your ass,’ Peter grunted, aligning his hard pecker with my loose ass hole. The fact that he called me a slut only added to my arousal. That man watched my cock slowly gained its erection. ‘Shit! You’re really like dirty words, huh? Well, you did tell me that rape fantasy makes you horny. Well, I’m gonna rape your ass.’ Harshly, Peter twisted my nipple, sending me screaming. Yet, the pain made me hornier. And Peter knew that! ‘Get ready, slut boy. Here I come.’ As soon as he finished saying that, ruthlessly, Peter shoved his hips forward. His drooling circumcised cock stabbed into my loosened ass hole. Although Peter’s fingers had trained my hole to receive that giant cock, the anal pain was still there.

‘Ah! It hurts!’ I yelled. The sudden thrust into my arse sent a stabbing pain through my spine. My body was jolted by the pain. ‘It’s so big, Peter! It’s much bigger than any cock I encountered. Oh fuck!’ Tears dampened my eyes. ‘Peter, I can’t take it! It’s too big, ah!’ A part of me regretted for letting him poke my ass with his monstrous dick. But I could go no where, for Peter had held me captive. His strong hands gripped hips securely as he shoved his cock deeper into me. ‘Ah! You’re tearing my ass!’ I yelled, half-crying.

The helmet pushed the ass lips inwards, stretching them until they were almost torn apart. Like a giant snake, that cock slid in into the depth of my ass. When the head had passed the sphincter, the ass lips quickly closed in. Peter’s cock was gripped tightly, stuck in my ass. ‘Oh! It’s in!’ Peter exclaimed enthusiastically. That horny man could clearly feel his hard cock throb inside my warm ass. ‘Shit! It’s still tight.’ His face showed great pleasure as my ass muscles milked his fuck tool.

Groaning, I was glad that the big cock finally fit in. I still winced painfully when Peter shoved the rest of the length in. ‘Oh,’ I whimpered, my body shuddering. Helplessly, I spread my legs wider to let that meat fucker in. Standing rigidly, my cock pulsed. Having cummed twice, the piss slit was somewhat sore. ‘Fuck!’ I groaned, thrashing my head. My bowels were full with that cock. I groaned again as Peter pushed his dick in. I could feel that ramrod scrape itself against the walls of my rectum. The head kept inching in until his big hanging balls hit mine. ‘Ah, Peter,’ I moaned lustfully. My eyes were fixed to his handsome face.

For some moment, Peter did not move at all. He stayed there to absorb the warmth of my bowels with his cock. Both of his eyes were closed. ‘Man, your ass is remarkable. I’m gonna fuck you again and again until I cum in you. Yeah, you’re gonna be my bitch.’ Slowly, he withdrew his cock. Teasingly, he rubbed his manhood against my rectum. I was groaning aloud as he did that. Peter ran one of his hands on my throbbing cock, stroking it several times. The tight clenching ass lips of mine were pushed outward as Peter’s cock backed away. It was obvious that my ass lips had started to swell considerably. But then, as the head almost slid out, Peter drove the whole length back into my battered ass. The cock was plunged in hard, and it hit my prostate.

‘Ah! Yeah, Peter. Fuck me! Oh!’ Lust again took over my mind and body. I was ready for another journey to orgasm. When Peter lunged forward, I quickly wrapped my sweaty hands around his waist. ‘Peter, yeah, I love your cock. Oh fuck me! Fuck me hard!’ I pulled him close to me. My action only made his cock sink deeper into me. That fat dick head went to the depth where no cock had gone before. ‘Peter, I love your cock! Oh yes, fuck me deeper. Oh, split me open with your mighty cock. Peter!’ His washboard abs was scraping against my flat stomach. ‘Fuck me, yeah! Drive it deep and hard! Oh yes!’ Holding onto his perspiring torso, I lifted my body. I was half sitting on the bed, hanging upon his body with my out-stretched hands.

‘Yeah, my hot slut needs my cock. I’m gonna give it all to you. Yeah, take it all, bitch. Take my cock!’ Peter groaned, burying his face in my shoulders. Both of his strong arms were supporting his body, placed on the bed on each side of my body. ‘You’re so horny, I like fucking your tight ass, ugh! Yes, fucking take my cock! Like a mad man, he drove his dick hard in and out. Sweat was dripping down his body profusely, as if he had just got out of a spa. His hair was wet thoroughly. When he slammed his manhood, the sweat drops were shaken off his head. Some splattered my body. I could only see pure lust on Peter’s face.

The monstrous pecker had pried open my ass. Taking shape of the letter O, my swollen hole twitched. It milked Peter’s manhood, coaxing it to release its precious juice. The burning pain still radiated from my ravaged ass. Yet, the ecstasy emanated from my prostate drowned the anal pain. My brain registered the pain as pleasure. My naked body was rocking back and forth. The brutal fucking rhythm entrapped my hard cock. That hard cummy meat was pressed between my stomach and Peter’s. Still half-hooded by the foreskin, my cock was constantly rubbed by the movement of Peter’s stomach. The oozing precum flowed down my cock, lubing up Peter’s stomach. Tired, I let my hands go. My body fell back and hit the comfortable bed.

Peter seriously moved his hips, thrusting it forward in constant rhythm. Loyally, that Caucasian man pumped his dick into me. The big head was ravaging my insides, hitting anything standing in its way. That thick cock, too, produced a handsome amount of precum. That liquid flooded the fuck canal. Peter’s cock practically surfed on it, easing the penetration. As the cock resounded in, sloppy wet sound resounded. Some precum was even spurted out from the slightly parted ass lips, owing to the pressure inside my ass.

Whimpering, I still cried out my passion. I urged him to drill my cock ruthlessly. ‘Fuck my ass, Peter! Yeah, use my body for your pleasure. Oh, make me your slut! Oh fuck! Fuck me! Yes, give me your big cock! Ah, yes!’ Reaching out, I was groping his pectorals. My body shuddered as my palms came in contact with his erect nipples. Rubbing them with my hands, I aroused him beyond his limit. That handsome horny man grunted, slamming deeper. My body was rocked backward. ‘Ah! Yeah, cum in my ass! Give me your cum. Fuck me! Shoot your loads inside me. Oh! Cum in me, Peter!’ I yelled, in heat. I knew that Peter would soon ejaculate because I could see the tell-tale signs of his impending climax.

‘Fuck yeah! I’m gonna cum! I’m spraying you with my hot man juice. You’ll be pregnant with my manly seeds, slut. Fuck yeah!’ he replied, breathing heavily. Placing one hand on my cummy cock, he was jerking my rock-hard dick again. Using his other hand, he tried to maintain his balance. ‘Yeah, you’re gonna shoot again. Come on, shoot it. A horny slut like you craves for sex. I’m fucking your ass deep and hard. Spurt your cum for me, bitch. Shoot it!’ he demanded, sliding his hand fast. The movement of his hand was so fast that it turned into blurred motion. ‘Oh, I’m almost there. Come on, cum with me. Let’s shoot our loads together.’

I did not need his urging because my cock was soon erupting. Peter’s violent thrust had subsequently hit my prostate. The accumulated pressure was too unbearable. My cock immediately exploded in much bigger shattering orgasm. Yelling out, I let him know that I had reached my orgasm, again. ‘Fuck! I’m cumming, Peter! Oh yes! Ah! Milk my cock! Ah!’ A large gob of gooey cum was shot out. It only flew up for about 2 or 3 inches high. That gob landed on my sweaty contracting stomach. My spread legs shuddered uncontrollably. Each spurt of my cum caused my ass hole to clench up. Thus, it was milking Peter’s cock. ‘Ah, Peter! Yes! I’m cumming, oh!’ Stiffening muscles made my body look bigger than it was. Peter’s stroking hand almost slipped off when cum splattered it. Syrupy man juice flowed down my cock and gathered on my crotch. Some was spilled down, onto the bed. I kept bucking, dazed with orgasmic explosion.

At then, Peter pushed in very hard. His mouth gaped open, howling. And suddenly, his sturdy body shook. He was cumming in my ass! ‘Fuck, yes! I’m cumming! I’m filling your ass with my fucking cum. Yeah, slut! Oh yes! Cumming! Oh!’ Leaning towards me, he buried his cock as deep as he could. His massive chest flexed, showing its manliness. The thick monstrous cock was jerking inside me, spewing spurts after spurts of gooey warm man seed. The liquid splattered my bowels, filing up the rectum. ‘I’m impregnating you with my sperms. Yeah, you’re mine, bitch! Ah fuck yeah! The violent trust hit my prostate again and again, prolonging the orgasm I felt.

Both of us were jerking, releasing our pent-up jizz. Our lewd groans could be heard outside Peter’s hotel room. Peter continued to pump my ass until all of his cum was wrung out. His muscular hips thrusting in and out slowly came to a stop. Tired but satisfied, Peter threw his body on top of mine. His large cock still impaled my swollen ass. Some cum slowly seeped out of my fuck chute, flowing down my ass cheeks. Showering me with slobbering kisses, Peter expressed his gratitude for my service. As men, we tended to fall asleep right after sex. Embracing me possessively, Peter slumbered beside me. With my closed eyes, I whimpered as I dreamed about Peter’s fucking my ass. My ass was sore, yet I was very satisfied.

END

The river cruise ship supposedly had all sorts of amenities, but in the two days we’d been aboard thus far the only ‘amenity’ I had discovered was Carey’s vagina. I had thought that a New Years holiday cruise down the Rhine on the MS River Explorer was just the ticket for our honeymoon. Carey’s idea of exploring, however, was seeing how deep and how often I could plow her from supper to lunch of the next day.

Not that I was complaining, mind you, but this had become much of a surprise to me. I could have had anyone I wanted at the university I was quarterback to a winning football team and paid whatever my scholarship didn’t cover with male modeling gigs. But Carey hadn’t let me fuck her before we’d married. She been friendly enough and we’d gotten real close to the whole package, but she’d always hold off. And now that we were married, she was showing me that she’d known all of the moves all along. If anything, she was a lot better at it than I was. She certainly sucked cock better than the guys I’d been with did, not to mention any of her sorority sisters all of whom I’d had in one way or another.

But the whole reason for this expensive cruise was beginning to slip out of our grasp. As much as I liked her writhing under me on one of the narrow beds in our cabin we could have rented out the other bed, as we’d yet to need it I’d been raised to appreciate the value of a dollar. So, by the second night on the ship, I’d decided we needed to make use of some of the luxury we were paying for.

It was the ship’s New Years Eve gala ball, and the ship was in the middle of the channel in Cologne, Germany, all set to add the world-famous First Night fireworks display there to the party spirit and hot band playing in the Latitude 52′ Lounge.

I was glad that I had unwrapped Carey’s legs from around me and pulled out of her and sent her off to the shower and to dress for dinner, insisting that we’d paid for this New Years bash and jolly well would take advantage of it that we could fuck to our hearts content for the next 50 years. When I’d taken my own shower and was struggling into my tux, I caught sight of her in her formal, and her beauty took my breath away. It was all I could do to carry through with the plans to party with others tonight.

And party with others we did. Yes, indeed we did.

Being nearly the only younger paying passengers aboard, and being given special treatment in honor of our honeymoon, we were seated at a well-placed table with another couple who turned out to be minor celebrities. Raul, a dusky-skinned Cuban who had really taken good care of his conditioning, was a former major league baseball player who had made many millions at the game and left it a few years ago. His raven-haired wife, Jessica, had been a near-the-top sex siren movie actress of two decades previously. Both had cashed in on their success early and were now specializing in being seen in all of the pleasure spots of the world. I was in awe that Carey and I were in their dazzling spotlight this New Years Eve. Everyone in the room was aware of our quartet the four of us, a very young couple and a very-well-known couple in their early forties glowing in beauty and laughter and easy conversation in the focal point of a festive little world on a luxury cruise ship in the center of an ancient German river city.

Jessica bubbled with laughter and Raul oozed with charm and worldly conversation, both showing surprising interest in the lives that Carey and I had only just started indeed we were several lives behind the fascinating ones Jessica and Raul had already lived. And Carey and I were both completely disarmed that the two of them would show such interest in us rather than reveling in themselves and their own world. We also were being disarmed by the champagne and mixed drinks Raul was ensuring we both readily had at hand. Raul’s conversation became increasingly suggestive and sensual as the party moved toward its peak, and although Jessica wasn’t babbling as much as she did at the beginning, her infectious laugh still tinkled at Raul’s comments, and she was pulling first me and then Carey into her intimately with the come-hither gazes of her hazel eyes, set off all the more by the contrast with her silky raven-black hair.

When the sirens and noise makers of New Years went off and the fireworks began to burst over the banks of the river beyond the ship, I turned to Carey, but Raul was already there ahead of me. And before I could raise an objection or do anything else, Jessica’s lips were on mine. And the kiss she gave me wasn’t a friendly peck, but a full-blown exploration of my senses that had my cock stirring against the silk of my tux.

As we were downing the New Years glass of cheer, Raul made a couple of comments that were well beyond suggestive, and I turned to Carey in a bit of alarm, worrying about how she would react to such explicit talk. But she was smiling, her mouth a little slack. Her face was even more lovely than earlier in the blush of too much to drink. I thought that it must only because of how much she had consumed that she hadn’t been shocked by what Raul was saying.

Jessica may have been more sober and more aware of Raul’s stepping over some sort of line, though, because she suddenly said she needed to powder her nose and would Carey like to accompany her to their suite just a few steps away on the Navigator deck? When they had swept away, Raul sat back in his chair and gave me a lopsided grin. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a couple of cigars, obviously expensive Cuban cigars, which he no doubt had no trouble obtaining.

‘Care to join me?’ he asked, with a sly grin.

‘I’d love to,’ I said, ‘but this ship is all nonsmoking, except out on the deck, and it’s much too cold to go out there, I think.’

‘Let’s go to your cabin, then,’ Raul said. ‘I’ve just got to have a cigar.’

‘Can’t smoke in the cabins, either,’ I said with true regret. I would have liked a good Cuban cigar just then as well. It might have sobered me up a bit. I felt that both Carey and I were way out of our league here somehow losing control in an unknown and maybe dangerous way with this highly sophisticated older couple.

‘Who’s to know what we do in your cabin?’ Raul said. And that sly grin was back.

Before I could think of what to say to that, he was standing and was pulling me up with a strong, beefy hand on my black silk-covered elbow.

‘Which way to your cabin, young man?’

I dumbly rose and led him down to our cabin on the Explorer deck. I flicked on the light as we entered. The cabin was compact and I could see our reflection in the mirror above the bureau as soon as we entered. He closed the door and then was standing close behind me as I faced the bureau. Very close behind me. Too close behind me for me to misunderstand.

I stared at him in the mirror, his face nearly beside mine over my shoulder, his smoldering black eyes capturing mine in the mirror. I was mesmerized and immobilized as his body pushed at mine from the back. I could feel the power of him rising against my butt. I watched in shock and awe and in arousing interest as his arms came around my sides and his hands went inside my tux coat and then pulled my shirt tail out and went up under my shirt. His strong brown hands on my skin, rippling my shirt with his movement as I watched, captured by his sensual beauty and power, his audacity, and the numbing of the reflexes the liquor he had plied me with had caused. It was not like I hadn’t done this before with a man, of course. Knowing this and lost in the moment, I simply stood there, resisting nothing.

He had a hand on my naked belly, holding me to him, and I melted to him. He nuzzled the hollow of my neck with his lips, sensing that I would not resist him. I did make one feeble attempt, though.

‘Umm, Raul, we came here to smoke. What about those cigars.’

‘I have a cigar for you to smoke,’ Raul answered in a husky voice.

And indeed, he’d already had his cock out of his pants and was stroking against my trousers from the rear with it. He turned me and forced me onto my knees, and I gave him the soft and warm mouth that he sought. He wasn’t unusually long, but he was unusually thick, and I struggled a bit at getting all of him inside my mouth. But I knew what a well-conditioned athlete would want, and I gave him long strokes and encompassing pressure and was rewarded by groans and moans and guttural mutterings in his native Spanish, which I took as expressions of pleasure and approval at what I was doing to his tool.

In short order I had initiated that volatile nature he had been famous for as a baseball player, and he lifted and turned me and laid me down on the table between the beds and under the picture window and pulled my trousers off. He had his lips on the rim of my ass and one of his hands encasing and stroking my cock, as I watched the ceiling of the cabin slowly rock back and forth to the motion of the river waves lapping against the ship’s hull. I held my legs out wide as he moved first one, and eventually three beefy fingers into my ass, preparing me for his assault. And then he turned me on my stomach, and I watched the New Years fireworks on the banks of the river at Cologne through my cabin window and listened to the band in the lounge above us as Raul swiftly stroked his cock in and out of my ass and fairly quickly climaxed in a warming flow inside me.

As we sat close together on one of the beds afterward and smoked his Cuban cigars, I wondered what Carey was thinking and where she was and if she was frantically worried whether I had fallen off the ship or worse was just outside the door to the cabin about to discover Raul and me there, both half dressed, both obviously sexually satiated with each other.

But Carey hadn’t been thinking about me at all. When she and Jessica had entered the suite on the deck above, Carey had sat at the dressing table, touching up her lipstick and hair as Jessica was standing behind her and admiring Carey’s ripe youthful beauty in the reflection of the dressing table mirror. Half lost to the world and floating in champagne and wine, Carey had barely noticed as Jessica’s hands came around her and ran lightly over the younger woman’s firm breasts through the clinging taffeta of her bodice.

Carey lean her head back into Jessica’s own breasts and raised no objection when Jessica pushed the low-riding bodice off Carey’s chest and cupped her pert breasts in her hands, all the while holding Carey’s eyes in thrall with her own hazel orbs in the reflection of the mirror.

Carey was trembling and sighing as Jessica expertly worked her breasts, and her head turned up to Jessica’s face and her lips opened to a willing kiss when Jessica’s lips possessed them.

Jessica worked Carey’s breasts and lips there until the younger, highly sexed woman became putty in Jessica’s overwhelming beauty and expertise. Jessica pulled Carey over to the bed and sat her down on the edge, and Carey laid back and stared at the fireworks through the cabin window and sighed and moaned and groaned and listened to the band down the corridor as Jessica pulled off Carey’s panties, came down on her knees between her thighs and made love to Carey’s nether lips and clit with her own lips, tongue, and sensuous fingers.

When Raul and I entered the suite, still somewhat disheveled, after deciding to find out what the women were up to with Raul obviously already having a very good idea what the women were up to I found Jessica seated, naked, on the side of the bed, legs spread wide, with an equally naked Carey sitting in her lap, Carey’s back pushed into Jessica’s breasts. Jessica was encasing Carey in her arms and she had a humming vibrator in her hand and was servicing Carey’s clit with it. Carey’s head was thrown back on Jessica’s shoulder, lost in the strands of her long, raven-black hair, and she was giving little cries of ultimate pleasure, cries that I hadn’t heard since earlier that evening when I was pumping her hard and deep with my cock.

Raul took charge as we entered the cabin, and none of the rest of us gave objection. We were all lost in the peak of passion and lust. Raul stripped down completely and bid me do the same. And then he went over to the bed, picked Carey up out of Jessica’s lap, and turned her and moved her up on one side of the queen-sized bed until her head almost touched the pillows. He spread her legs and came in between them with his knees and just slid that thick cock of his not as long as mine, but a good deal thicker into her cunt and began stroking her hard and deep. Carey’s back arched and her head shook back and forth and she was emitting guttural sounds of approval, willingness, and pleasure.

Jessica smiled at me and patted the bed on the side next to where Raul was fucking my wife, and, at his wife’s bidding, I laid down on the bed next to my wife on my back. Jessica straddled my hips between her luscious thighs, took my rehardened cock in her hand and placed it at her cunt and just slid down on it. And then up and then back down, and on and on and on and ever deeper. Waves of pleasure rose over me and I groaned under her expert fucking.

I looked into my wife’s dreamy eyes, swimming in sexual satisfaction and desire, and we simultaneously moved our heads toward each other and kissed deeply, as our older, more experienced new friends worked hard on top of us to consummate their well-orchestrated scheme of seduction and engaged in some lip work of their own.

As we listened to moaning and sighing in four-part harmony backed by the dance band down the corridor and the fireworks continued outside on the banks of the old city of Cologne, I wondered if Carey and I would ever again experience either a wedding anniversary or a New Years Eve gala as stimulating and satisfying as this one. Not likely.

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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Synopsis: Brad Pitt goes to a hypno-therapist to quit smoking. The hypno-therapist has other ideas.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not imply anything about the sexuality of Brad Pitt.

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Dr. Steve Sherman looked at his appointment book. He couldn’t believe it, his next appointment was Brad Pitt! Dr. Sherman was a licensed hypno-therapist who specialized in helping people curb bad habits. Brad had expressed the desire to quit smoking. Dr. Sherman had previously helped people in the entertainment industry, but no one of Brad Pitt’s caliber had ever come to see him. Because of Brad’s notoriety, Dr. Sherman agreed to schedule his appointment after his normal business hours.

At 6:30 p.m. there was a knock at the door. Steve opened it. There stood Brad Pitt, looking good enough to eat.

‘Mr. Pitt, I’m Dr. Sherman,’ Steve said, extending his hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Nice to meet you, too, Doctor. And thank you for seeing me this late,’ Brad replied, smiling. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.

Brad came into the office, looking around him nervously. Steve noticed this and attempted to put the actor at ease. ‘I’ll bet you’re nervous about hypnosis,’ he said. Brad nodded. ‘Don’t worry. It’s quite simple and harmless. I’m sure you checked out my credentials and background before you came, so you know that I have an excellent reputation.’

‘Yeah, I checked you out. It’s not that.’ Brad was blushing. ‘I’m just nervous around doctors. Sorry.’

‘Oh, nothing to be sorry about. Why don’t you call me Steve? I mean, we’re about the same age anyway, and if we’re going to make any progress, it might work better on a more informal level. Okay?’

Brad smiled and looked noticeably calmer. ‘Sure, that’d be great, Doctor, I mean, Steve.’

‘Shall we start then?’

Brad nodded. ‘Oh, is it okay if I take my jacket off?’

‘Sure, you can hang it right over there.’

Brad stood up and removed his coat, walking to the other side of the office to hang is jacket. Steve watched his smooth, tight butt as he passed by the desk.

‘Okay, let’s begin,’ Steve said as Brad returned to the couch. ‘Now this may sound a little corny but I want you to watch the pendulum of the wall clock behind me as it swings back and forth. Concentrate on it while you listen to my voice.’ Steve flipped a switch on the underside of his desk and a miniature spotlight aimed at the pendulum turned on. The light flashed each time the pendulum swung through its path.

The switch under the desk also activated four video cameras that Steve had installed in his office. One was built into wall clock behind his desk, just under the swinging pendulum. Cameras were also mounted on either side of the couch, and a final camera was hidden in the ceiling directly above the couch, capturing all possible angles.

‘Just look at the pendulum as it swings back and forth, Brad,’ Steve said, his voice soft and monotone. ‘Fix your eyes it and follow it’s movements, but don’t move your head. Follow it with your eyes.’

Brad’s eyes moved back and forth as Steve’s voice droned on. ‘Keep watching the pendulum as it swings. Back and forth. Back and forth. Isn’t it relaxing?’

Brad nodded his head.

‘In fact,’ Steve continued, ‘as your eyes continue to move back and forth they might become tired. You may even feel like closing them, but I want you to try to keep them open, even though every swing of the pendulum makes you want to close them even more.’

Brad was blinking slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. They closed for a second or two and then slowly opened. They drooped again and then slid shut. He was under.

‘Brad,’ Steve whispered.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m going to count slowly backwards from ten. The closer I get to zero the deeper you will fall asleep. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Brad whispered softly.

Steve began the countdown, counting back slowly from ten to zero. As he got closer to zero Brad sunk lower and lower into the deep leather couch. When he reached zero, Brad was completely asleep. His breathing was slow and rhythmic. Steve stared for a minute. Here was Brad Pitt, one of the most handsome and sexy men in the world, in his office in a deep hypnotic trance. Helpless and open to suggestion. Steve leaned forward and whispered. ‘Brad, can you hear me?’

‘Yes,’ the hypnotized actor replied.

‘Good. I want you to listen to everything that I say. You will do everything I ask you to do without any questions. It will feel second nature to obey me. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Brad mumbled. His voice was slurred. He sounded drunk.

‘Good. How are you feeling right now?’

‘Relaxed.’

‘Good,’ Steve said. He gave Brad a few commands to help him to begin the process of quitting smoking, implanting the subconscious thought that Brad would need follow up visits in order to quit for good. Then he started his regimen to strengthen Brad’s response to the power of suggestion. After forty-five minutes of intense instruction Steve was ready for a test run.

‘Brad, whenever I say the words ‘smoke signal’, you will immediately return to this state. Deeply relaxed and asleep, yet able to hear my voice and respond. You will also obey every word I say and will not offer any resistance to any suggestion I make. Do you understand, Brad?’

‘Yes, I understand.’

‘Okay, in a few moments, I am going to count to five. When I reach five, you will wake up feeling very good and relaxed. Very freshed. Do you understand?’

Brad nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Okay, Brad,’ Steve said, ‘here goes. One… two… three… four… five.’

Brad opened his eyes and looked around. ‘Was I just hypnotized?’

‘Yes, you were, for a few minutes, and now we’re done. I just have a few insurance forms for you to sign before I forget and then we can continue.’

‘Great,’ Brad said, standing up. ‘Where shall I sign?’

‘Right there,’ Steve pointed, ‘on the line that says smoke signal.’

Brad’s face went blank and his eyes glazed over. The pen dropped from his hand.

‘Brad, your body is about to become extremely sensitive to touch. You will become very aroused at my touch but you will be unable to move. You will become very excited and aroused at my touch, so much so that you will want to cum. However, you will be unable to do so until I give you permission. Do you understand?’

‘Yes. I won’t be able to move and I won’t be able to cum until you tell me.’

Brad was wearing well-fitting, faded Levi’s and a short-sleeved button down shirt. Steve reached out and touched Brad’s forearm. The hypnotized actor shivered slightly at the touch and drew in his breath. Steve ran his hand down Brad’s arm. Then he unbuttoned the shirt and slid his hands up Brad’s magnificent torso. His chest was shaved smooth, most likely for a new movie role. His muscular pecs were jutting out and his nipples were the size of quarters. Steve touched one.

‘Uunnhh,’ Brad moaned, shivering again. Steve rolled the hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting another moan from Brad. This time much louder. His was pushing his chest out to the prying fingers and Steve wet his fingers, grasping the nipple again, beginning a slow twist and tug.

‘Oh, uh,’ Brad continued, his head lolling back and forth. ‘Oh, that feels so good.’

Steve leaned in and fastened his lips around Brad’s right nipple, biting softly. Brad went wild, ‘uuugggghhhhh!’ His body was quivering, but he stayed where he was.

Steve’s hand moved down to the waist of Brad’s jeans. His underwear was showing about an inch. The waistband read ‘Hanes.’ So, Brad Pitt was a briefs man. Steve smiled. Tighty whities were his favorite. He unbuttoned Brad’s pants and worked the zipper down. The briefs were bulging. Steve pushed the jeans down past his knees and took a step back.

There was Brad Pitt, pants down, totally under his control. Steve was ecstatic. With one hand cupping and tickling Brad’s substantial bulge, Steve poked his tongue into the actor’s ear. Despite the order to remain still, Brad was twitching wildly.

Steve removed Brad’s shirt and guided him over to the couch. He removed Brad’s socks and shoes and finally his pants.

Reaching under the couch he produced two lengths of silk ropes. Binding the hypnotized stud’s wrists, Steve tied the restraints off to two brass plant holders conveniently mounted over each side of the couch.

He knelt between Brad’s legs and whispered to him. ‘Okay, Brad, you can try to move, but you will find that you are restrained and unable to stop my actions.’ He then ran his hands up and down Brad’s inner thighs. Brad tried, but was unable, to close his legs.

Steve’s fingers crept to Brad’s crotch, still encased in his tight white briefs. The outline of his dick was visible against the thin cotton material of the briefs. Steve massaged more vigorously.

As Brad continued to moan and struggle, Steve buried his face into his crotch and lightly kissed the inviting bulge. His hands slip up Brad’s torso to his underarms and tickled. Brad’s body racked with spasms and he laughed.

Slowly Steve lowered the waistband of Brad’s briefs and tucked it under his balls. He grasped the erect shaft and began to work his fist up and down in a slow torturous rhythm. Then he slid Brad’s briefs down to his knees, exposing the actor’s hairy butt. He reached a finger into the nether region and gently probed. Brad sucked in his breath again, this time more sharply. Seeing the exposed shaft quiver, Steve resumed his manipulation of it. Brad’s head was moving from side to side, dizzy with sensation.

‘Oh, please, I gotta cum, I gotta cum,’ he pleaded. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, his chest, and under his arms.

‘No, Brad. You will not cum until I give you permission. Do you understand? You will not cum until I let you.’

‘Uhhnn, yes, I can’t cum without your permission.’

For the next twenty-five minutes Steve assaulted Brad Pitt. Probing and pushing, stroking fast and slow, fast and slow. Whenever Brad was on the point of climax, Steve would stop for a few seconds, waiting until the dazed stud caught his breath, only to resume his torture. Brad was gasping. It was time.

Wetting his finger, he slid it firmly into Brad’s tender butt hole and nudged his sensitive prostate. Brad thrashed wildly, his hips bucking.

Sliding his finger out, Steve stepped back. ‘Okay, Brad,’ he relented, ‘cum! Now!’

Thick ropes of cum shot from Brad’s cock as his body convulsed madly. Steve grasped the shaft and jerked up and down, attempting to milk every drop. Brad was trying to hunch up to avoid the agony, unable to stop anything Steve was doing. His chest was covered in cum.

Finally Steve stopped. He sat back for several minutes while Brad’s breathing returned to normal. He went into the attached bathroom and returned with a towel wet with warm water. He gently cleaned up the bound actor, wiping all traces of cum and sweat from his body. Then his pulled Brad’s briefs back up. Taking a digital camera from his briefcase, he took several still shots of the hunky actor in his tight white briefs. He then undid the silk restraints and examined Brad’s wrists. No marks. Good. There would be no signs of the bondage session.

‘Brad, in a few minutes I’m going to count you out of this trance. You will have no memory of what has happened just now. You will only remember that you were signing the insurance forms. Your body will not feel any differently than it did when you came in today, and you will awake feeling extremely refreshed. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Dr. Sherman, I understand.’

‘When you sign the form you will write down both your home phone number and your cellular phone number. When your phone rings and you hear my voice say ‘smoke signal’, you will begin to have the urge to smoke. You will then call my office to make an appointment. You will find nothing unusual in doing this. It will seem completely natural for you to ask for a follow up session. Do you understand?’

Brad nodded his head, his blond hair falling over his eyes.

‘Good. Now put your clothes back on come back to my desk.’ Steve smiled as Brad dressed, happy that the video cameras were still running. ‘One… two… three… four… five.’

Brad opened his eyes and looked up. ‘I’m sorry, Steve, where did you want me to sign?’

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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Shanghai, China

November 2003

Marat Safin sat down and poured himself a shot of vodka. Ahh… there was nothing like good vodka and the bellboy in his hotel had managed to find him a fifth of Chopin, one of his favorites. He had to do something to kill the time since his flight wasn’t due to leave until tomorrow afternoon and he was too bummed to go out clubbing, so that left one thing: get drunk.

Marat was in Shanghai for the year-end ATP tournament and he was pissed and bummed all at the same time. How could he lose all three of his matches? He had a chance to end the year number two and he blew it! He’d started the year on a high note, reaching the final of the Australian Open, but then lost in a shocking upset to the unheralded, but underrated, Thomas Johansson. After that his year and life went into a tailspin. Sure he won his fair share of matches, enough to keep him near the top of the ATP Race, but he couldn’t win a tournament to save his life. Well, up until a couple of weeks ago at the Paris Masters. But that was small consolation for all the chances he’d missed. No matter how he did in the Davis Cup Finals, he had to do something about his game.

He poured himself another shot and was about to drink it when there was a knock at the door. ‘Room Service,’ came the call. Marat downed the shot and went to open the door. It was his dinner, and it was being delivered by the same bellboy who’d found him the vodka. As he signed the room service bill, Marat picked up his wallet to give the bellboy some American dollars for his troubles. It was then that the old, tattered business card fell to the floor.

After the bellboy left, Marat picked up the card. It was the card of a sports psychologist given to him by Patrick Rafter just after the Australian Open that year. He’d totally forgotten about it. Apparently Rafter had experienced great success with his game after seeing the guy but stopped seeing him after his surgery and when he left the tour. Marat fingered the card. He decided he would call the man and picked up the phone.

Boca Raton, Florida

December 2003

Three weeks later, Marat was sitting in the waiting room of the Boca Raton, Florida office Dr. Benjamin Foster, Sports Psychologist. He was a bit early and flipped through a magazine as he waited.

Dr. Benjamin Foster had a thriving sports psychology practice, most of his patients being young up and coming players from the numerous tennis academies in the area. Normally he didn’t take on new patients because he was so busy, but when he got the message that Marat Safin wanted to make an appointment… well…

Sitting at his desk he pored over the dossier he’d prepared on Marat since he received the initial call. He knew Safin had a temper. You’d have to be an idiot not to know that. His history of breaking rackets was practically legend. And he had a revolving door of coaches which may have accounted for his bizarre losses to players who he should, on paper at least, have easily beaten. But then on the other hand, Safin had his fair share of easy victories over players he should have, quite frankly, struggled against. The guy was an enigma. A challenge. Ben Foster liked a challenge.

He was chomping at the bit to get a crack at Marat Safin. Marat, in his initial call, had mentioned that he had been referred by Patrick Rafter and the thought of the Aussie brought back several fond memories for Ben. Of course, most of them involved Patrick clad in his underwear, or less, on the couch, lying across his lap or servicing him. You see, in addition to being a top-notch sports psychologist, Ben Foster was also an accomplished hypnotist. It was a skill he discovered by accident one day while in a session with Patrick Rafter, of all people. The two had been talking about volleying. Patrick was upset that he’d been missing some crucial volleys at critical junctures in matches and had asked Ben if there was any way he could help him to keep his eye on the ball better, to concentrate more on each point rather than on the game in ins entirety. Ben said he’d think about it and have something by their next session.

The next time they met, less than a week later, Ben had come up with an idea. He dimmed the lights in the office and took a red laser pen and aimed it at a blank wall. It was a small red circular light. Then, in a low monotone voice, he told Patrick to concentrate on the spot as he slowly moved it around and around. Before long, he realized that Patrick had slipped into a light hypnotic trance. In their subsequent sessions Ben had deepened the trance until by just the uttering of certain phrase he could get Patrick to slip into a deep sleep.

Oh, those were the days. First he started off very shyly, just touching and caressing Rafter’s exquisite body. Patrick never caught on, either. Ben was very careful. He always instilled the thought that they’d worked on some sort of problem, when, in reality, most of the session was a grab-ass time, with Patrick bouncing up and down on Ben’s knee while Ben twisted and tweaked his nipples and jerked him off.

When Patrick had undergone knee surgery the visits became fewer and fewer. Then he left the tour completely and the visits stopped completely. Oh, there was the occasional telephone call or fax, but Ben had still felt sad.

Until Tommy Haas had shown up in his waiting room one day, unannounced, that is. Tommy was a hot young German prospect who hadn’t been living up to his potential. He’d heard of Ben through Patrick and decided to give him a try. Ben employed the same techniques he had with Rafter with equal success, helping Tommy to learn to deal with the pressure that his home country was putting on him to be the next big thing. As hot as Patrick Rafter was, Tommy Haas was a god. Dark thick hair and smoldering brown eyes… and the best ass, bar none, on the tour. If you thought Patrick Rafter looked hot in his underwear, you should see Tommy Haas! Now that boy can fill out a pair of briefs!

Tommy and Patrick were basically the same type of guy. Shy and unassuming. The one thing that didn’t work in Ben’s favor was that in addition to having steady girlfriends, they had a connection with their coaches. Soon after beginning his sessions with Ben, Tommy had gotten back together with his former coach and his results had dramatically improved. Therefore, Ben’s services weren’t needed as often. Tommy still came by now and then for a ‘quick fix’ and, like Ben’s sessions with Rafter, he usually ended up scantily clad, servicing the handsome doctor.

But Ben wasn’t too worried. With all his patients from the tennis academies he was kept busy. And now that he was mastering hypnosis, when he found a patient he took a liking to, he began to experiment. No kids, though. For Ben they had to be at least 16 and then, it wasn’t anything more than a quick feel up or a series of photos. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. If the guy was a real hottie, Ben would ‘program’ him to do the ‘extras.’

Now there was Marat Safin. The 6’4′, 195-pound hunky Russian stud with the smiling eyes and the matinee idol looks. Not to mention the beautiful body. Oh, this was going to be fun. Unlike Patrick and Tommy, Marat was less reserved. He was outspoken and outgoing. His post-match interviews were, at times, a laugh riot. He wasn’t afraid to list his flaws and Ben found that an attractive quality. He wanted to instill into Marat that the kind of behavior he exhibited on court at times was okay, as long as the energy was channeled in a positive manner.

But what intrigued Ben was that Marat didn’t have a full-time coach. He looked at his information on Marat again. With all the coaches and advisors he’d had over the past couple of years, it was no wonder his game was as up and down as it was. Maybe since he didn’t have a full time coach he’d visit Ben more often.

Ben looked at his watch. It was almost 4:00 p.m.; time for Marat’s appointment. He had purposely scheduled it as his last appointment. There was a light knock at his door and his attractive nurse, Tamara, showed Marat in.

Usually Marat was very charming and disarming, but today he was nervous. He’d never seen a psychologist before and looked uneasy. He smiled a forced smile at Ben and shook his hand. Ben looked into Marat’s bright eyes and smiled back. Oh shit… this was going to be fun.

‘I take it you feel a little nervous about being here, don’t you?’ Ben asked, trying to put Marat at ease. He gestured for the Russian stud to take a seat on the soft leather couch opposite his desk.

Marat forced another smile. ‘Sports Psychologist,’ he said, his accent so sexy. ‘Makes it sound like I’m um… like I’m unstable. Crazy.’

‘An unstable man doesn’t end up number three in the world,’ Ben countered in a gentle, rational tone. ‘And a crazy man certainly doesn’t win the U.S. Open. At least not the way you did when you beat Pete.’ It was good, old-fashioned ego stroking and it was doing the trick.

Ben then cued up a highlight clip of a recent a Safin loss. It was a match he should have won. Marat was visibly disgusted with himself.

‘Look at how your shoulders are slumped and how you’re slouching there,’ Ben said, pointing to the screen. ‘Your body language is no good. You’re telling the other guy that if he hits one more ball, the point is his.’

‘But that’s not true,’ Marat said shaking his head. He shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the side. ‘I get frustrated. Things don’t go my way.’

‘I think that’s something we can work on,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll work on your consistency and concentration.’

‘But I’m not like the other guys,’ Marat persisted. ‘When I play tennis, I play with my heart, not always my head. I know, I know… that’s not always so good, but that’s me. That’s Marat.’

‘Yes, I know that,’ Ben said, agreeing. ‘But just because you’re frustrated doesn’t mean your opponent has to know you’re frustrated or how frustrated you are. Think about Mats Wilander, your old coach. Or if you want to think about the ladies, think about Chris Evert. They were both great champions, right? But neither of them was the best player to have ever played the game, right? What did they have in common? Think about it. When they played their opponents never knew what they were thinking, whether if they were winning or losing. They were as cool as a cucumber. Now I’m not saying that’s how you should be out there because that’s not your game. But you can do things to keep your emotions under control. There are things I can show you. Mental exercises you can do. The guys in the locker room know how good you are, but they also know that they can beat you if they just hang in there. That’s something we’ve gotta change. Wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Yes,’ Marat said, now eagerly sitting forward, knowing Ben was right. ‘What do I need to do.’

‘First off, I want to start with some mental exercises; things to help you focus.’ He turned around and took a metronome from the credenza behind him and placed it on his desk.

‘What’s that?’ Marat asked.

‘It’s a metronome,’ Ben explained, as he wound the key. ‘It’s used to keep time, like with piano lessons. But I’ve found it helpful in my sessions as well. You see, this circular disk here swings back and forth in different intervals depending on the setting.’

Marat shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t get it.’

Ben smiled. ‘You don’t need to understand it right now. What I want you to is watch the pendulum as it swings back and forth and concentrate on its movements. Just watch it move back and forth. Try to block out everything else. By doing this I believe it will help you to focus better and that will ultimately help your tennis.’

Marat laughed. It was an infectious, sexy laugh. ‘Sounds like hypnosis. You know, ‘you are getting sleepy’.’

Ben laughed, too, but kept his composure. He quickly formulated a response. ‘You know, when you put it that way, it does sound like some kind of mumbo jumbo, doesn’t it? But believe me, that’s not the case.’ He waited a few seconds to see if Marat had taken the bait.

Marat considered what Ben said for a few moments and then nodded, his lips pursed. ‘Okay, sure. Let’s do it.’

‘Good. Okay. Now, I want you to understand right up front that this isn’t a sure-fire, over-night cure,’ Ben advised. ‘You may need to come back several more times.’

Marat nodded. ‘I understand… but I need to get my game together. I really want to be number one. Right now I’ll try anything.’

‘Good,’ Ben said again. That’s what he wanted to hear. ‘That’s good to hear. Now then, I want you to sit back on the couch and relax. That’s the real key here: relax. Just let your mind flow. I’m going to dim the lights in the room and close the blinds.’

He set the metronome to a medium pace and released the lever. It swung back and forth in time, clicking once every second. He had a small spotlight mounted on the wall behind the couch, positioned so that the metallic disk would past through its beam during each pass. If Marat was truly concentrating and watching the pendulum swinging back and forth, the light would bounce off the disk and flash directly into his eyes.

As the metronome swept from side to side Ben watched Marat’s eyes. They were following the round disk as it moved back and forth in its steady methodical rhythm. If he noticed the brief flash striking his eyes each time the metronome reached the top, he didn’t say anything. As Ben kept watching, he noticed that Marat blinked each time the flash hit his eyes. Just like clockwork. He smiled and began to speak softly.

‘Marat,’ he started slowly, ‘don’t you find it relaxing as you watch the disk swinging back and forth?’ Marat slowly nodded and Ben continued. ‘Yeah, nice and relaxing. Very relaxing. My voice is very relaxing, too? Don’t you think so?’ Again Marat nodded. ‘In fact,’ Ben said, ‘when you hear my voice you’ll find your stress and frustrations start to go away.’

Marat kept focused on the pendulum. His eyes were beginning to droop. ‘Just keep watching the disk, Marat,’ Ben encouraged, his voice low and soft. ‘It’s so relaxing. You might even feel a little tired, but that’s okay. You might realize that the more you blink the more you want to just keep your eyes closed. And that’s okay, too. You’re so relaxed right now. In fact, the more you listen to my voice and the more you blink, the more you’ll think that it would be so nice to just close your eyes for a few seconds. Just for a few seconds because you’re so tired and it would feel so good.’

Ben watched as the big tennis player blinked more and more frequently. His jaw slackened and his lips parted ever so slightly. His eyes, already heavy lidded, began to glaze over. ‘That’s right, Marat,’ Ben said lowly, his voice just barely above a whisper. ‘That’s right. You feel sleepy, so tired. You just want to close your eyes and sleep, and it’s okay. It’s okay if you close your eyes and take a little nap.’

Within the next minute Marat’s eyes closed and didn’t open again. The sound of the metronome clicking back and forth was the only sound in the room, besides the steady breathing of the hypnotized tennis stud. Ben watched as Marat’s chest rose and fell in a slow even pattern. He was sleeping, a look of bliss on his face.

Ben stood up and walked around his desk. He sat down on the edge of his desk and leaned forward. ‘Can you hear me, Marat?’ he asked softly.

Marat nodded. ‘Yes,’ he replied, his voice quiet, peaceful.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Mmmm… relaxed.’

‘That’s good,’ Ben said, pleased that his strategy had worked so well and so quickly. ‘You like feeling this way, don’t you, Marat?’ he asked, and Marat again nodded.

‘Yes.’

‘Okay then. When you hear me say the words ‘drop shot’ you will fall into this state again, but even deeper. You will feel even more relaxed. But only when I say those words. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘The sound of my voice is soothing to you and you want to listen to everything I have to say, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s right. You will obey everything I tell you to do, without question. Do you understand me, Marat?’

Marat nodded again. ‘Yes.’

Ben smiled. ‘Oh, that’s very good, Marat. Very good. You will obey everything I say. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, I will obey everything you say.’

Excellent! Ben smiled. ‘Good, Marat. Now, I’m going to count to three. When I reach three you’re going to wake up but you won’t remember anything that we talked about. In fact, whenever you wake up from one of these states you’ll have no memory of what has happened. You will only feel relaxed and comfortable. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

Ben walked around his desk and sat back down. ‘One… two… three.’

Marat opened his eyes and looked around the room. ‘Ooops. I think I fell asleep for a minute,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I was out late last night. You know, party. I didn’t get much sleep. And then I had a long practice today. I’m tired.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Ben said reassuringly. ‘You did good with the concentration.’

Marat seemed pleased. ‘Really? Do you think you can help me?’

‘Yes,’ Ben replied. ‘I think I really can. How about we schedule a few more appointments?’

‘For sure,’ Marat said. ‘I have to check my practice schedule, but I can call you tomorrow to let you know.’

‘That works for me,’ Ben said. ‘I guess we’re done then for this session. It was really nice to meet you and I look forward to working with you.’ He shook Marat’s hand.

As Marat turned to leave, Ben called after him. ‘Hey Marat. How is your ‘drop shot’?’ Instantly Marat froze. The phrase worked. Now to test how well it worked.

‘Turn around and walk toward me,’ Ben ordered. Marat spun on his heel and walked over to Ben. His eyes were open but vacant.

‘Open your mouth, just a little.’

Marat opened his mouth and Ben slipped his finger in. ‘Now suck on it,’ he commanded, and Marat did so. He slid his finger in and out. ‘You like how this feels.’ It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a command.

As Marat sucked on Ben’s finger, Ben slid his hand down his chest and to his waist. He cupped the tennis player’s crotch and gave it a squeeze. A small moan escaped his lips. ‘Yes,’ Ben said. ‘You like how that feels, too.’ Marat just nodded as he sucked away.

‘Now Marat, I’m going to wake you up and once again you won’t remember anything that happened. All you’ll remember is that your appointment is over and you’re leaving. But as soon as you get back home, you will call me and we’ll set up more appointments, okay?’

‘Okay.’

Ben pulled his finger from the stud’s mouth and handed him a card. ‘This has my home number and cell phone number on it. Take it and put it in your wallet.’

Marat did so and Ben counted him out of his trance and watched as he left the office. He couldn’t help but notice his nice ass and knew that he’d soon have an all access pass to the hunky tennis player’s body.

Later that evening while Ben was sitting on his couch, fondling the body of the eighteen year old tennis academy student who was lying across his lap in nothing but his underwear, the phone rang. It was Marat, calling to schedule a series of appointments. Ben was so excited that he almost forgot about the studlet on his lap.

To be continued…

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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‘Oh, shit, Pete. You have me filled.’ I was flabbergasted. One of my students had turned the tables on me and had me skewered and pinned to the floor.

‘And you’re starting to love it, aren’t you?’ Pete responded with a laugh. ‘It’s that big black cock that’s in you, Professor. The one you admired so much. Admit it, you love having me inside you. I’ve seen you giving me that look in class. You thought it was a desire to top me. But it was a desire to be fucked by me. And that was even before you saw what I have to give you, wasn’t it? Admit it.’

‘Yes, yes,’ I whimpered quietly. ‘I do love the idea of you being inside me. Take me. Pump me with that big black cock of yours.’ And he did then, giving it go me in both long and short strokes.

At length. ‘I’m about to cum, Professor. Do you want me to shoot inside you or do you want me to withdraw?’

‘Inside, inside, please, Pete. I’d forgotten how this had felt.’ I had forgotten how much I’d grown to love my own professor’s dick inside me. He’d had one of those slightly bent dicks that didn’t look like much when he started but that grew in length and thickness once inside me, so I could feel it filling me, possessing me. ‘And then stay inside me. I want to feel you contracting inside me.’

With a grunt and a groan from Pete and an exclamation of ecstasy from me, Pete shot his load inside me. As requested, he continued lying there on top of me, his dick buried in me, as he regained control of his breath.

‘I don’t plan on contracting inside you for a while, Professor. One of my talents is stamina. Something a football player’s gotta have. All you have to do is give me some lip work, and I’ll be ready to go again.’

‘No, Once was more than enough, Pete. This isn’t . . .’ Pete had rolled us to where we were on our sides, him behind me, and his dick still inside me. The arm that was under me wrapped around so that he could get to, first, my nipples and then down my body to my dick. He had locked his lips on mine with his mouth, and his other hand lifted my leg to give his dick full access to my hole. My desire leaped to life as he pumped me, and his desire started to build again as my kiss became passionate. In no time his cock was growing again and he was side splitting me deeply to a second, more prodigious ejaculation.

He pulled out of me after that and kissed down my chest and belly, his silky black hair swirling around on my torso. Then he untied my hands and lay beside me on the carpet.

‘That was an outstanding fuck, Professor,’ he whispered into my ear. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that since the first day I walked into your class. And you want to know a little secret?’

‘What is your little secret, Pete?’ I asked in a flat voice.

‘It was all a ruse. The plagiarized paper was only a ploy to get my dick inside you. And you’re glad I got my dick inside you, aren’t you, Professor?’

‘Yes, Pete,’ I sighed. And I was glad, but now I had to become the professor again. ‘I’m very glad you did that, but we haven’t really moved one step beyond our agreement. There’s still a plagiarized paper and an agreement.’

‘But that’s the funny part of it,’ Pete said, as he sat up beside me and let his long black hair cascade over my chest. He was making little circular patterns around my nipples with the finger pads of one hand. ‘The paper just doesn’t count. I’ve brought another paper with me today. One that hasn’t been plagiarized. It’s in that folder on your desk that I brought today, and I’m turning it in before the deadline. So, this changes everything.’

‘No it doesn’t change everything, Pete,’ I answered dully. ‘I can choose to accept only the first paper you turned in. I don’t appreciate being played this way. I’m not a bottom. I’m a top. You didn’t think that two fucks by you would satisfy me, did you?’

‘Well, you did seem to be pretty satisfied to me,’ Pete answered indignantly. ‘And I’ve turned in a paper on deadline, and I can raise a stink all the way to the president of the university if need be. I’m needed in the UNC game. Who do you think he’d believe and back? You or me?’

‘I rather think he’d believe me,’ I said, as I struggled out of his hold and painfully rose to my feet. I stood over him, looking down at him and long the long line of my body extending down my chest and my still pretty hard eight-inch cock.

‘How do you figure that?’ Pete asked, looking up at me with eyes that contained a hint of worry.

‘That professor I told you about who fucked me all through graduate school. He’s now the president of this university.’

‘Oh. Shit.’

‘Oh shit is right Pete. We made a deal. I want you back up and laying on your back on my desk. Right where we started before you began to take control. And this time I don’t want any of your games. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ Pete answered with a newfound meekness. He rose and walked around to the other side of my desk and lay down on his back there. His rotund butt cheeks were perched at the edge of the desk, and his legs were opened wide and his knees were bent, with the heels of his big, long feet dug into the edge of the desk.

‘OK, if we must do this, let’s get it over fast,’ Pete said. He was approaching this like it was a less-than-favorite drill on the football field.

‘Well, I’m afraid that it’s going to be a little more involved than it would have been if you had not played this little game, Pete. Now you have to be punished as well as me getting the fuck I negotiated for. You have to be taught a lesson. You’ve heard the adage ‘spare the rod and spoil the child,’ haven’t you, Pete?’

‘Yesss,’ Pete answered, not sure where this was going.

I opened the bottom drawer of my desk, rummaged around, and brought out a flexible rubber cock enhancer. It would lengthen my cock out to a good eleven inches when I strapped it on, and it would added a good inch of added girth to my already thick cock, as well. It had knobs and ribs that were somewhat like the threads of a screw running down it. I had acquired it to ensure the pleasure of one of my students who had been doubled so often that his hole was too slack for even my cock to fill, and, until today, I’d only used it on him.

I lifted it up and showed it to Pete. ‘Well, this is the rod that will deliver the reminder you need not to mess with me or any other professor here, Pete.’

Pete cried out in horror at the sight of it. ‘You’re not putting that in me!’ he cried. But there was something in the tone of his voice that made me think he was just putting me on. A gleam had come into his eye that indicated that he was more than game for this punishment I had devised.

‘It’s this or probably expulsion, Pete. Make your choice. Are you going to take the consequences like a man, or are you going to take your chances with a sex scandal? Everyone of importance here knows I’m gay. What about you?’

Pete’s answer was to turn his head to the side and whisper, ‘Do what you have to do.’ But, when I looked closely, I could see that he was smiling.

‘Good answer, Pete.’ I retrieved the tube of lube and greased up both Pete’s hole and the rubber dildo liberally. Then for several minutes I worked at opening the hole with the dildo, while Pete grunted and groaned for me and did the best he could to keep his hands from trying to intervene. I retrieved my tie and tied his hands together so that he could try to keep them over his head and out of the way. While I was working with the dildo, I leaned across his chest and played with his nipples and in the hair running down to his belly with my tongue and teeth. I could tell that this was pleasantly distracting him. Then I strapped the dildo on my eight-inch cock, lengthening my weapon to eleven inches and thickening what I already possessed, and I started screwing my tool into Pete’s hole.

I have to give him credit. His torso twitched and trembled and writhed while I was plowing into him, especially for the first five inches and the last two inches, and he did a lot of grunting and groaning and arched his back, but he stoically took the punishment. I held his legs out as far as I could by the ankles to help him stay open. When I had crammed the whole eleven inches into him, I held it there for a good five minutes. I know he was afraid that I’d start pumping him with that knobby-surfaced dildo at any time, but I didn’t do so. I still wanted to have my pleasure as well.

Pete almost cried out in relief when I pulled out of him and unstrapped the enhancer. I had let loose of his legs, which had just flopped down over the desk edge and started to sit up. But I pushed him back on back onto the desktop.

‘I’m not done with you yet, Pete,’ I said. ‘That was just the punishment part. We still have to consummate the deal we made. Now you get me and just me inside you. Or would you prefer to stop here and take the grade I’d give you on your first paper?’

‘Do me,’ Pete answered in a husky voice. ‘Screw anything about the paper or a grade. Come back inside me.’

I unbound Pete’s hands then, and he opened his legs wide to me and guided my unsheathed cock into his ass with his own hands. I held his legs out again with my hands, and slid slowly up his ass chute. He was sighing and moaning again, but this time there was more pleasure than pain. The dildo had strained his ass walls; my cock, though large and long, was a relief after that. I stopped at several depths and rotated my cock in his channel. He seemed to enjoy this. While I pumped him in alternating short and long strokes, I bent first one leg, and then another, and brought those sensuous feet to my lips and sucked his toes. I then told him to hold his own legs out, and I stroked his cock and rolled his balls until he came again, shooting his semen up his magnificent abs. I lowered my chest on his. He encircled me with his arms and wrapped his strong legs around me below the hips and took over in moving me in and out inside him by exercising the muscles in his legs against my buttocks. We were engaged in a deep kiss when I ejaculated eight inches up his ass.

While we were putting ourselves back together, I told him that I would, indeed, accept his substitute paper, but only with one condition.

‘What’s that, Professor?’

‘That you come personally to my office to receive the evaluation and grade,’ I said.

‘Yes, thanks. I think I’d like that very much. I enjoy cumming in your office,’ he answered with a big grin. ‘I won’t give you any trouble with where you put that eight incher of yours ever again.’

‘And I would very much like to entertain that wonderful black cock of yours again,’ I responded, giving him a smile of my own.

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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(If you’ve read “Getting Into Preacher Boy’s Pants, Part 2” you might remember a quick story Paul shared with his boyfriend, Billy, about a conquest from a couple years earlier. Here’s what happened that night.)

Some people are just too good looking for their own good. People who are so beautiful they look like they should be strutting on a catwalk or modeling designer underwear for a living. Andreas was one of those people.

Andreas was twenty years old and a senior at UNLV. The blond-haired, blue-eyed stud with drop-dead looks that could’ve easily been spread out among four people stood 6’1 and weighed in at 180 pounds. He kept his body in shape, despite his love for beer, with daily workouts in the university gym and pool. He was a star on both the water polo and swim teams.

Andreas never lacked for female company. Wherever he went, the strip, a club, even just walking on campus, seemed to bring the women out of the woodwork. He was used to women throwing themselves at them and getting pussy anytime he wanted it. He loved pussy. He especially loved big-titted women who weren’t shy about going down on him. Fuck… nothing beat a good blowjob. He’d been with enough women to know what sucked (no pun intended) and what didn’t. He remembered one blowjob so good that he could’ve sworn he passed out after he climaxed.

Now it was Spring Break and Andreas and a group of his frat brothers decided to take a road trip to San Diego for the week. They checked into a cheesy hotel right on the beach and within walking distance of at least a dozen clubs. No driving needed. A whole week of playing on the beach during the day and partying through the night. There were ten frat brothers and together they’d sweet-talked the manager into squeezing them into two rooms to save money. Less money for the room meant more money for partying.

It was Friday night, only two nights left, and the guys couldn’t decide where to go. Half wanted to go to Moondoggies and the other half wanted to go to the Pacific Beach Bar & Grill. It wasn’t really a problem, since they were only a couple blocks apart and close to the hotel, so they guys decided to go wherever they’d just split up.

Andreas finished styling his spiky blond hair and looked in the mirror. Perfect. It was tousled with a windblown look, but Andreas had spent nearly twenty minutes getting it just right. He’d seen a ton of babes on the beach and he wanted to get fucked tonight. He turned to catch his profile. His white Fruit of the Loom boxers briefs were tenting with his erection. He grabbed his hard cock and gave it a good squeeze. A couple of his frat brothers saw him and chuckled.

“That horny Andreas? Save it for the bitches.”

Andreas pulled on a pair of board shorts and a tank top. He looked back in the mirror. Ah, fuck the tank top. It was warm outside and everybody was going shirtless. Plus, he was proud of his sculpted torso. He strapped on his beach sandals and gave himself on last once over in the mirror. He must’ve grabbed one of his frat brother’s board shorts because they were a little loose at the waist and about four inches of his underwear was showing. He thought about changing and decided against it. Fuck it. The Hawaiian print shorts looked good, and the white of his underwear was a nice contrast to his tanned and toned body. He liked to wear boxer briefs a little snug because he liked how they felt. And how they looked to the babes when he did his slow strip tease, his fuck bulge stretching the material. Damn, he looked hot! He coulda passed for a California beach bum. Tanned, toned, streaked hair. He loved being him!

He grabbed a wad of cash and shoved it, along with his room key, into his pocket and followed his frat brothers down the street.

At twenty-one years old Paul was a professional. A professional hunter. His mission in life was to seek out and acquire hot young studs, unwittingly drug them, and then have his way with them. This entailed photographing them in compromising positions and in various stages of undress. When he’d finished his job he would then pleasure himself with the young men.

Paul had his own website where pictures and videos of these young men could be found and, for a price be downloaded. So far this enterprise had been very lucrative. He traveled throughout the country to find his “victims.” Tonight he was in San Diego, his own backyard, so to speak. In fact, he was at one of his favorite places: the PB Bar & Grill. Tonight was a totally random, though. He was simply enjoying a night out with friends when he saw Andreas. One look at the blond Adonis strutting shirtless through the front door and Paul knew exactly what he was going to do.

Paul was with a group of his friends drinking and laughing but stopped drinking alcohol the second he spotted Andreas. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. His friends Paul eventually decided to move on to another club. After all, it was Spring Break and San Diego was just one big party this week. Paul said he saw a friend and was going to hang out for a bit. As his friends left he moved to the bar.

His strategy was fairly simple, almost like that of a big game cat. Separate the mark from the crown (his friends), befriend him, gain his trust, and voila!

From his spot at the bar Paul kept track of Andreas’ every move: who he came in with, who he talked to, who he danced with, what he drank, how much he drank, how often he went to the restroom. Everything. As the evening wore on Paul noticed that most of Andreas’ friends had paired off with girls and left. Andreas looked like he was having too much fun, though, dancing away. His hunky body twisting in perfect time with the music. The sheer gall this stud had to come into this place, dressed the way he was, was giving Paul the hardest boner he’d ever had.

When the latest song ended Andreas huffed his way to the bar, breathing heavy. The spot next to Paul was conveniently empty. Andreas sat down and gave Paul a perfunctory nod. “Anybody sittin’ here?” he asked. His voice was a smooth as silk. Masculine and incredibly sexy.

“No,” Paul said, turning slightly in his seat. “She was hot,” he said, remarking on Andreas’ last dance partner.

“She was a bore,” Andreas said, flagging down the bartender. “Blah, blah, blah,” he said, making hand gestures. The bartender appeared and he ordered a Seabreeze.

“Still…” Andreas said, “it’s getting late and most of the hotties have left. I probably shoulda stuck with her.” Andreas grabbed his crotch. “You ever get totally horned up, man?”

The question took Paul by surprise, but he quickly recovered. “Constantly,” he lied. “Sometimes a guy just needs it.”

Andreas nodded, his mouth full of pretzels. “Totally.” His drink arrived and he downed half of it. He pulled out a five and told the bartender to keep the change. He grabbed his crotch again and spun around on his stool.

“Take a look,” he said, sounding bummed. “A bunch of dogs.” He shook his head and grabbed his crotch again. Paul couldn’t help but notice.

“Maybe if you changed the subject,” Paul suggested. “You look like you surf. Do you?”

“Just learned this week,” Andreas laughed, finishing his drink. “I’m here from Vegas on Spring Break. I took some lessons. It’s great.” He was about to order another drink when Paul hailed the bartender.

“This round’s on me. Two beers,” he said. “Maybe you should stop drinking the hard stuff. This place isn’t known for skimping on the liquor in its drinks. It might be a good idea to slow down, especially if you wanna get laid tonight.”

Andreas laughed again as he took his beer from the bartender and took a swig. “You’re right, you’re right,” he said, taking another swig. “I’m just so fuckin’ frustrated and horny. I mean, man… you shoulda seen the babes on the beach! Mmmm!!!!”

Mixing alcohol isn’t the smartest thing to do, but Andreas wasn’t thinking about that. He groped at his crotch again. From where he was sitting Paul could see the stud’s fuck bulge. Nice. It was a good thing Andreas’ board shorts were a little loose otherwise he could be arrested for indecent exposure!

“By the way, I’m Rob,” Paul said, giving Andreas a fake name. “I’m here from ASU.”

“Andreas,” Andreas said, introducing himself. “UNLV.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Andreas finished his beer and Paul bought him another. About halfway through it, Andreas jumped up and said he was headed for the john. Paul noticed he wasn’t walking the straightest of lines. This was his opportunity. The moment he’d been waiting for ever since he’d first laid eyes on the hot shirtless stud. He’d had the roofie in his hand since Andreas sat down, waiting for the right moment. Now the drunken stud was off taking a piss. Paul casually reached over, as if to stretch, and dropped the roofie into Andreas’ beer. The kid wouldn’t know what hit him. He ordered him another.

Andreas came back a few minutes later, smiling when he saw the extra bottle of beer. He finished the first and started the next. “Thanks, man,” he said, holding the bottle while scoping out the dance floor. “Let me get the next round.”

Paul looked at his watch. With what Andreas had already drunk, he was looking at about fifteen minutes. It wasn’t too hard to keep him talking. Andreas was a talker. He talked about his countless cunt hunts and conquests and about the great time he was having in San Diego.

As if on clockwork Andreas’ voice began to slur and Paul knew it was time. He wanted Andreas out of there before he became incapacitated and unable to walk. He looked at him. “Man, you look wasted. I don’t think you’re gonna get any. Maybe you oughta call it a night.”

Andreas wobbled on his stool. “You know…. I think you’re right. Good thing my hotel is just down the street because all of a sudden I feel kinda fucked up.” He stood up to leave, wavering, and patted Paul on the arm. “It was nice to meet you, Rob. Have fun for the rest of Break. I’ll see you later.”

As he turned to leave Paul got up. “You know, I should probably head out, too,” he said, catching up with his prey. “It’s late and shit and I’m pretty beat. We were out in the sun all day and I’m whooped.”

As the two guys left the PB Bar & Grill Paul asked Andreas where he was staying. Andreas pointed to down the street. “I can’t remember the name off hand, but it’s a couple blocks that way.”

Paul came up with a quick lie. “My place is that way, too. My car’s right over there and I’m not that drunk yet. I’ll drive you if you want.”

“Cool,” Andreas said. And together the two, hunter and hunted, climbed into Paul’s SUV. Andreas had no idea what was in store for him.

As they drove slowly down Garnet Avenue Paul remembered a hotel he’d used before. One where he could pay for the room in cash. He also noticed that Andreas was having a hard time staying awake.

“Hey, Andreas. Where did you say your hotel was?”

Andreas looked at Paul. Or rather through him. The roofie had him in its grasp. He laughed. “I can’t remember. Shit.” He laughed again.

“Well, this is my place,” Paul said, turning into the lot. “Wanna come in for a minute until you remember where you’re staying at?”

“Yeah,” Andreas replied. “That’s probably a good idea.” Oh, he didn’t know how wrong he was.

“My room’s over there,” Paul said, pointing off to nowhere in particular. “Wait here in the car for a sec while I get the key from the clerk. We lost it three times already this week so we don’t carry it with us. They charge us a $20 charge for a new one. I’ll be right back.”

“Mkay,” Andreas slurred, slumped against his seat. Paul went inside and finagled a room from the dimwitted clerk. He went back to get Andreas, who had started to drift off. “Come on, buddy,” he said, grabbing his arm. Andreas followed Paul to his room. As soon as they were inside Andreas sat down on the bed and immediately fell over, passed out. Or at least out of it. Incoherent. Paul had to restrain himself from jumping his bones right there. He went back to his car and got out his gym bag where he kept his digital cameras, video camera, tripod and other “toys.”

He went back to the room and lifted Andreas’ eyelid. His eye rolled up. The guy was gone. He set up the video camera and then started snapping pictures with the digital camera.

Next he took Andreas’ board shorts off. Holy fuck! Paul had never seen someone who looked so hot in their underwear. He couldn’t wait to see what was under. But first things first. Since Paul’s website catered to a variety of fetishes and tastes, he decided to feature Andreas in every category.

First he took pictures of Andreas dressed. On his back, on his stomach, sitting up. Then he took his sandals off and snapped a few pictures of the blond stud’s nice size 11 feet.

He let out an admiring sigh as he gazed at the passed out stud. Holy shit! These would be great pics! He began shooting off picture after picture, again in every conceivable position. The ass shots would be nice. The white of the boxer briefs stretched tautly across the stud’s perfect round bubble butt. Mmm… Paul couldn’t wait to dive into that ass! He started to stroke Andreas’ body, playing with his cock and balls through his boxer briefs and flicking his jutting nipples. Bingo! The dazed stud began to moan. And he got hard. But he was gonna get harder still. Paul lifted the naked young man’s and slipped a Viagra between his soft, pale pink lips. He helped him to swallow it by giving him a little more beer and steadily and slowly stroking his throat. In about twenty minutes, Andreas was gonna be as hard as Paul, and Paul hadn’t taken a Viagra. Yet.

Paul passed the time by continuing to stroke Andreas’ body. As Andreas moaned in obvious pleasure, Paul decided to get a couple of facial shots. Cum facials. He dropped his pants and jerked his dick until he shot a load of slop right onto Andrea’s pretty boy face. His photos captured the cum as it ran down the handsome stud’s perfect face, over his lips and down his chin. Still horny and full of cum, Paul decided to see what kind of cocksucker Andreas was. He sat him up and stuck his hard cock between his lips, thrusting his hips back in forth and sliding his cock in and out of the straight stud’s hot mouth. Pretty soon he was ready to cum again and he let this load slide down Andreas’ throat. Mmmm… for a straight boy, Andreas sure was a good cocksucker! His next load was gonna go into that tight ass!

Speaking of that tight ass, it was time for the promised land! The money shots. Before doing so, though, he fitted Andreas with a ball gag. It would allow Andreas to breath but would muffle any louder moans that were sure to come from his pretty mouth. Then he slowly peeled off Andreas’ tight Fruit of the Looms, licking his lips as he did. Andreas’ dick was probably six inches when soft, but with the Viagra, it was at least a good eight inches. As he watched Andreas’ growth spurt, Paul took more pictures. Then he started to jerk off the dazed stud. It didn’t take much to get Andreas to shoot his first load. Up on to his stomach and chest. He bet the kid was hard constantly.

He stared in awe as he slowly jerked Andreas to his second ejaculation of the night. Andreas’ eight-inch cock was as perfect as the rest of his body. Nice length and girth. He bet it felt good up a girl’s cunt. Just as he felt Andreas ready to cum again he straddled his body again and sat down on the stud’s erect, cum-lubed cock. Andreas shot his boy jizz right up Paul’s ass.

“Unnnggg…!!!” Paul cried out as Andreas beautiful dick spewed its load up his ass. “Ohhh…. yeah… I hope you’re ready for yours, buddy,” he said. He stood up, cum dripping from his ass.

When Paul had done his job and taken every conceivable picture from every conceivable angle, it was fun time. Time to fuck Andreas. He threw the hottie’s limp legs over his shoulders and, condom on, plundered the blond studling’s tight ass.

Andreas cried out in pain but the sounds were all but muffled by the ball gag, just as Paul had planned. The poor frat boy didn’t know where he was or what he apparently had some kind of understanding of what was happening to him because Paul could make out a few phrases here and there, such as “I’m straight, dude, I’m straight”, but Paul tuned it all out. Andreas’ hole was so tight. He felt like he was about to shoot so he pulled out, took off his condom, and shot his load all over Andreas’ bare chest.

As soon as he was done, Paul cleaned himself up, straightened up the room and hightailed it out of there, taking Andreas’ underwear as a souvenir. His only regret was that he wouldn’t be around the next morning to see the look on Andreas’ gorgeous face. The look of pain and confusion and the sneaking suspicion that something had gone wrong.

As Paul drove home he bet that tomorrow morning Andreas would be telling his buddies how he’d banged some chick back at her place the night before. Paul had no fear of his actions being reported. After all, what dude was going to admit to being raped?

The next morning the sun came shining through the windows and aroused Andreas from his drug-induced sleep. For a few moments he was confused, wondering where he was. He was in a strange bed and, stranger still, alone. That almost never happened. Andreas couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t go home with some cunt. If he only knew that he was the cunt last night he probably would’ve blown a cylinder. He tried to replay the night but couldn’t clearly remember the events. He sat up in bed and realized he was naked. His clothes were in a heap across the room. Just what the hell happened last night? Oh yeah… that guy he met… what was his name…? Rob? Yeah, Rob…. that was it. Cool guy. They had a few drinks and then he drove him to his hotel. No… they stopped off at Rob’s hotel first. Where was he? Andreas looked out the window and recognized his hotel a couple blocks away. After showering and dressing – where the hell was his underwear? – he went down to the front desk and inquired about the room. The stupid bitch at the desk was no help. All she could say was that the room had been paid for in cash. She didn’t have a name and even if she did, Andreas would know it would be bogus.

As he walked back to his hotel he suddenly felt a pain in his ass and his dick and he knew something had happened. Something very bad.

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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Gail was still acting decidedly cool toward me as we started out north in the morning in a couple of jeeps. She made sure we were in separate vehicles. She’d dolled herself up for the encounter with Kwei Lin in a three-quarter-length cotton skirt and matching halter top in a sky blue that set off her blonde complexion to perfection. But I had no delusions that she’d be looking nearly this fresh when we reached Kwei Lin’s mountain stronghold at Miang Sing.

We crossed the Mekong into Laos, near the Myanmar border at Mae Sai, and it was here that I learned both just how well Gail had prepared for Kwei Lin and that she wasn’t nearly as cool toward me as she wanted me to think. The Mekong was in full flow, and our primitive wooden barge nearly capsized. We were drenched with brown water, and Gail clutched at me in fear as we were nearly swept away. I held on to her for dear life, not being all that brave or assured myself, and the cotton of her skirt and halter top went transparent, revealing that she was wearing nothing under them.

While our escort and the boatmen fought the river for control of the barge, I was getting a very good feel of both a very nice set of tits and of Gail’s pussy through the thin, wet material. She wasn’t fighting me either. Our mouths latched in a searching kiss, but we abandoned that almost immediately and tried to put some distance between ourselves when the boat started to win over the current and our escorts were able to parcel out their attention to more than just keeping us alive.

We road in the back of an ancient truck from the border up into the mountain jungle of northwestern Laos. As we were jostled back and forth, we dried off slowly in the humid air. Gail and I purposely sat across from each other in the truck bed, drinking each other in with our eyes for the remainder of the trip. At one point, the two tribesmen who were assuring us a safe escort into the Mien warlord’s fiefdom were jabbering and pointing to Gail and me in an animated fashion. When I asked our interpreter what they were saying, he reiterated what I had heard the night before about yellow-haired Fahrangs being good luck and how rare it was to see two more yellow hairs together in this region that Gail and I could be taken as twins. I meant to ask the interpreter what they meant by ‘more yellow hairs’ in this remote area, but I figured that out soon enough myself, because, just then, the mountainside redoubt of the Mien warlord’s lair came into sight.

The stronghold was well concealed, especially from the air. It consisted mainly of a large, open-air pavilion set on a rock outcrop at the side of a narrow ravine that appeared to be easily defended. It would be very hard to pick out from the air, because the columns that supported the thatched roof of the pavilion were the trunks of live jungle trees that widely spread their canopies over the whole complex.

As our truck came to a stop at the mouth of the ravine, I looked out and Kwei Lin and his most trusted cohorts were spread out along the low rock wall separating the pavilion from the cliff edge. I had no trouble picking out Kwei Lin; he stood head and shoulders above the rest of the Mien tribesmen and was as blond as either Gail or me, his golden hair flowing down to his shoulders in a full-bodied cascade of curls. It was immediately obvious why he was able to maintain his status as the guerilla band chief. Luck was with him just by virtue of his golden blond presence. It also was understandable why he had insisted on the reward that he had for accommodating the insertion of our team into China. He would perpetuate his myth of the golden leader of the Golden Triangle by mating with a blonde woman, while at the same time, he would be getting a taste of the world he’d left behind.

Kwei Lin was wearing the same indigo Chinese-style, close-fitting rough-fabric pants that came down to just below his knees and a loose-fitting crossover jacket made of the same material that the other men were wearing. But he was slimmer, taller, and more distinctly muscled than his adopted compatriots. Like his comrades, as well, all of his torso and arms that we could see were covered in an intricate design of blue tattooing that even ran up the side of his neck.

He spoke excellent French as we negotiated our business, but I never could discern whether he could speak English as well. I was careful not to ask him too many questions about his past, especially since he knew I was a direct agent of U.S. intelligence, and he didn’t offer any personal information. It was clear that the Mien tribesmen would do anything he approved, and they seemed in awe of Gail, who just lounged coolly in a nearby rope sling, being as enticing as possible for Kwei Lin as she had been instructed to be, while the chieftain and I hashed out our agreement. For his part Kwei Lin wasn’t nearly as attentive to Gail’s presence as his cohorts were; his attention was locked on me and what I was proposing.

We were able to strike a very acceptable bargain within a short time, and, as twilight descended, a couple of women were shuffling around and lighting small torches extending from the live columns but well away from the thatched ceiling.

Making quite clear that the U.S. government was quite pleased with the arrangement, I ceremoniously beckoned for Gail to come forward so that Kwei Lin could claim the sugaring of his deal. She languidly unfolded herself from the rope sling and floated over to the center to the pavilion, up to the edge of the table where Kwei Lin and I had spread our maps during the negotiations.

I had the interpreter announce to Kwei Lin that Gail would accommodate him for the night and was turning to return to the bottom of the ravine where a tent had been raised over the truck bed for the rest of my party to spend an uncomfortable night, when Kwei Lin spoke out in a commanding voice.

‘He wants you to stay, Sir,’ the interpreter said, with a funny look on his face.

‘Stay?’ I asked dumbly.

‘Yes. He wants you to make love to the blonde woman.’ the interpreter said in embarrassed tones. ‘He said he was promised two yellow hairs who would perform for him and his lieutenants.’

‘Two yellow hairs?’ I said with a catch in my throat. ‘To perform? Here? Now.’

‘Yes, Sir, that’s what he said. And I don’t think he’s negotiating about this.’

Damn that Luther, I thought. So this was what he meant by my being perfect for the job. It was because I was a blond, although a silver blond in contrast to Gail’s yellow blonde and Kwei Lin’s golden hair. I wasn’t on this mission because of any intelligence skill I had just because I was blond. Well, I didn’t mind fucking Gail, as long as she was good with the change in plans, and I wasn’t that squeamish about doing it in front of these tribesmen, either.

In a short, whispered monologue, I explained the situation to Gail, whose only response was to reach around and unhook her halter top to much jabbering and oohing of appreciation from the gathered tribesmen, and to lay her back down on the top of the sturdy wooden table, with her butt cheeks on the rim. I stripped off my shirt and moved in between her legs and came down to her lips with mine. While we were kissing deeply, my hands were gliding over her breasts, rubbing and pinching her nipples, making them hard. I tongued my way down to them, and she arched her back for me in willing response. I was gathering up her skirt with my hands, bunching it up at her waist, showing Kwei Lin and his comrades that she was wearing nothing underneath. They oohed and awed and talked in rushed tones among themselves to see the golden yellow of her triangle.

My fingers entered her, searching for and finding her hooded clit and freeing it and making it hard. Gail was moaning for me, and my fingers were getting wet from her flow.

She had been running her fingers through my hair as I tongued her nipples, but she took them away and I heard her give a little grunt. I looked up, and saw that Kwei Lin was standing beside her head at another edge of the table. He was naked now, although he seemed clothed by the intricate webbing of dark tattooing all over his torso and arms, which extended down his thighs to his knees. He was holding an imposing, hard dick at the root, where curly yellow-gold hair pubic hair met the base of his cock, with one hand, and the back of Gail’s head with the other. She was sucking him off, and both seemed to be enjoying the play. She had one hand wrapped around the hand he was guiding his cock with and the other palmed across his flat belly.

I kissed and tongued my way down Gail’s belly and soon had my lips on the sweet lips to her golden triangle. My tongue searched beyond these lips until it found Gail’s clit, and I sucked on that until is was hard and her pelvis started to undulate. I then let my tongue explore further into her wet, sweet-smelling canal. I had a thumb buried in her ass and I rotated that as Gail’s hips strove to find my rhythm. My cock was hard and throbbing now, and I unbuckled and unzipped my pants and dropped them to the floor. I took my cock in my hand and rubbed it against her clit, while she trembled and moaned her appreciation and became wetter and wetter. Then I pushed my dick past her clit and into her tight, wet tunnel and glided up into her to the hilt until my silver-blond pubic hair intertwined with her golden yellow hair. I pumped her in short and long strokes, trying to match the rhythm of Kwei Lin’s thrusts down her throat.

Our audience of Mien tribesmen was enthralled by the golden triangle that was performing a primeval dance of lust for them, and I could only suppose that Kwei Lin was piling up heaps of political capital with them for having brought them this spectacle.

I watched as Kwei Lin pulled away from Gail’s mouth and then lost sight of him as he moved in behind me. I felt his hand come between my legs and his fingers inserting themselves alongside my stroking cock inside Gail’s canal. He pulled my head to the side to meet his lips and gave me a long, lingering kiss. He then pushed me down onto Gail’s chest with a strong hand in the small of my back, and Gail and I entwined our arms and allowed our tongues to duel with each other. She clearly was enjoying this double attention. And I was immensely enjoying the rubbing of her taunt nipples against mine.

Soon thereafter, I felt Kwei Lin’s fingers, wet with Gail’s flow, at my asshole, and he was fingering me, finger-fucking me in the ass. I barely had time to decide what, if anything, to do to counter this move, though, when the head of his dick, still wet from Gail’s sucking, was pushing at the ring of my hole. I tried to raise up as he entered me with his big, thick cock, but my arms were entwined in Gail’s and he was pushing firmly down on my back with his hand. Then he was in, past my sphincter, and I was groaning and gasping for air from the pain and stuffed sensation. He now had both hands pushing down on my shoulder blades.

It seemed to take forever for him to bury his rod up me to the hilt, but then my undulating ass walls were accommodating him, and the pleasure was beginning to overcome the pain. And I pumped Gail and Kwei Lin pumped me, and we all reached our orgasms nearly simultaneously. And the Mien tribesmen jabbered among themselves at the incredible good luck that the golden hairs were spinning out for them before their eyes, no doubt looking forward to a bumper opium crop this season as a result of our exertions.

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Last time on ‘Amateur Night’…

They gathered up Jeff’s clothes and shoes and led him out through the back door and into the parking lot where a van was waiting. There were five teenagers in the alley outside the back door of the gay bar next door. They looked about 18 or 19 and they whistled and cat-called at the sight of the big stud staggering helplessly, wearing nothing but tighty whities and a dazed look on his face…

“You know,” Steve said, as they led Jeff to the van. “He’s still pretty fucked up. Whattaya say we call those boys on over and see if they wanna have a little fun our Marine here?”

Eric laughed. “Dude, you’re wicked.” He looked over at the group of teens. They were staring, mouths open. Because they were underage they couldn’t get into any of the clubs so they had to stand around in the alleys outside, hoping to either sneak in or to somehow score. Tonight looked like it could be their lucky night. Eric called them over. “Hey guys!” he called out, gesturing for them to come over to where the van was parked. ‘Any one wanna take this stud here for a ride?’

The guys practically sprinted over. “You’re fuckin’ kiddin’, right?” one asked.

“Nope,” Eric replied, give the five youths a quick once-over. They were all pretty hot. “We just thought you guys’d like some dick and ass tonight.”

“Fuck yeah! What can we do?”

“Jeff here likes it up the ass and down the throat,” Steve said, pushing Jeff down to his hands and knees. He lowered his briefs down past his hips. “Well, he likes pretty much everything.”

“Is he drunk or something?” one of the teenagers asked.

“Or something,” Steve said.

“He looks pretty fucked up,” another guy said.

“And that’s a problem how?” his friend asked. “Shit, these guys are givin’ him to us. Don’t question it. Geez, you’re a dumbass.”

One by one the teenagers lowered their pants and underwear and surrounded Jeff.

“Have at him, boys!” Eric encouraged.

For the next half hour or so the five teen studlets teens assaulted Jeff’s hunky body in every imaginable way. They fucked him in the ass and mouth, cumming in both his mouth and up his ass, as well as on his face and back. It’s amazing the amount of jizz the teen dick holds and just how far it can shoot. They also sucked Jeff’s dick and titties while Steve and Eric took turns keeping him dosed with the poppers. Finally Steve and Eric stepped in.

‘Hate to stop things right when they’re getting fun, guys, but Jeffy here has another appointment across town. But we can offer you some lovely parting gifts.’

‘Parting gifts?’ one of the boys asked.

Eric pulled out the polaroid camera. ‘How about a shot with him?’

‘Cool, man!’ the kid said. And one by one each horny teenager posed with Jeff sitting on their laps, arms around each others’ shoulders, briefs down at his knees, and the shiny cockring keeping his dick erect.

Eric handed the polaroids around as Steve loaded the dazed hunk into the back of the van.

‘Thanks man!’ the teens all said, comparing their pictures, amazed that

they’d made it with such a stud like Jeff.

“Okay,” Steve said. “It’s time to get Jeff to his next stop. Eric. Why don’t you give Jeffy some juice? He looks thirsty.” He was referring to the bottle of spiked juice they’d left in the van.

“Oh, and guys,” Eric said, with an evil look in his eyes that only Steve recognized. “If you want, you can knock on the back door over there at Hot Stuff and ask for Shane. Tell him Steve and Eric said it was okay to let you in. There’s plenty of beer and shit and other stuff in there if you want.”“Cool, thanks man!”

As Steve and Eric drove off, Eric dialed up Shane on his cell phone and told him what he’d just told the teens. “Oh,” he added. “Feel free to do whatever you want to them. They’re fuckin’ hot!”

“You are so bad,” Steve said, laughing. “I bet by the time we get back from dropping of Jeff we’ll have a couple more waiting for us.” He took a quick look behind him at Jeff. The drugged up hottie was slipping in and out of consciousness. Might as well let him rest. Where they were going he wasn’t going to get much.

“I’m gonna get Sam on the phone and let him know we’re on our way,” Eric said, dialing a number. He spoke a few words into the phone. “Okay,” he said, hanging up. “He’s expecting us in a few.”

Sam Taylor worked the front desk of the Easy Eight motel on Rosecrans. ‘Gotcha,’ he said, finishing his conversation with Eric and hanging up the phone. He watched and waited until he saw the familiar van pull into the parking lot and up to the office door. He watched as his friends slid open the side panel and headed toward the entrance. He looked inside the van and saw someone slumped on the floor. So… it was Amateur Night at Hot Stuff again. This wasn’t the first time Eric and Steve had dropped off the ‘winner’ at the motel. Sam had worked out an arrangement with them: he got to suck and fuck the leftovers all in exchange for playing dumb when the guy stumbled to the front desk the next morning, wondering where the hell he was. Sam had worked out several deals with several people during his two-year stint as the night clerk at the Easy Eight. Pimps and drug dealers loved him for his ‘look the other way’ attitude and he was well paid for his troubles, both with money, women, men, and his choice of drugs. The guys from Hot Stuff were a nice bonus, though. He loved sneaking into their rooms, finding them all drugged up and completely unaware of their surroundings, and then fucking them again and again and again.

His favorite was a guy from about three months ago. Mark… shit! The guy was fuckin’ hot. Six foot two, light brown hair, built…. And the best part was, he ended up at Hot Stuff by accident! It was a Friday night and his friends had thrown him an early bachelor party at one of the strip clubs next door when, after downing several beers, he went to look for the bathroom, got lost and found himself outside and turned around. Steve and Eric heard him banging on the back door of Hot Stuff, drunk off his ass, looking for the men’s room. They let him in and the rest was history. Steve and Eric showed him the restroom and, when he was finished, gave him a roofie-laced beer as they chatted him up. The rest was history. They dropped Mark off at Sam’s and Sam had thought he was so cute that he decided to keep him for the whole weekend. From what he could gather from Mark was just a good Christian boy out for one final fling before he took that long walk down the aisle. Please… what’s a good Christian boy doing at a strip club? Drunk, no less? Anyway, Sam didn’t care. He fed poor Mark enough drugs to keep him out of it until Sunday night. Unbeknownst to Mark, a new internet star was born. Everything from his drunken insistence that he was a good Christian boy to his pretty face getting fucked to his tight ass getting pounded had been filmed and posted on the net.

Eric and Steve walked through the front door. ‘Hey Sammy! How’s it hanging?’

‘No complaints here,’ Sam replied, grabbing his crotch. He took a key off a hook. ‘Room 27 okay?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Eric said, taking the key. He looked back toward the van. “He’s a pretty hot fucker. Total homophobe. Nice tight ass, too.”

“I hope you didn’t loosen it up too much,” Sam said.

Eric shook his head. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about this guy. He’s tighter than shit. Big dick, nice ass… Former Marine. Name’s Jeff, but I’m sure you’ll be calling him much worse by the time you’re through!’

‘A Marine, huh? My favorite,’ Sam said, licking his lips. He had been in the Marines himself briefly. He’d gotten kicked out just before graduation from Boot Camp. It was liberty day, the day before graduation when your friends and family are allowed on base to visit. Well, his drill instructor, a real hard ass, had caught Sam and a friend fucking his buddy in the bathroom of a restaurant at MCRD. He’d gotten a dishonorable discharge and the shit kicked out of him by his old man. That’s when he moved out and started his own “business.”’Be careful,’ Eric warned. ‘He’s gonna be coming around in a little while. He’s a real devil dog.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Sam replied. ‘I’m prepared.’

‘Oh, and leave this for him,’ Eric said, tossing a small manila envelope to Sam as he left. “It’s his winnings from tonight.”

‘Got it,’ Sam said, catching the envelope. Eric reached into the van and pulled Jeff out. He led him into the office and to the front desk.

Sam looked at Jeff and did a double take. “No fuckin’ way!” he cried out.

“What?” Eric asked, fondling Jeff’s ass.

“No fuckin’ way,” Sam repeated. “That’s Sergeant Shelton, my drill instructor from Boot Camp! The fucker who got me kicked out!”

“Whoah, you sure?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, taking a closer look at the drugged up stud. His face was coated with so much cum that it looked like a glazed donut, his lips were slightly swollen (probably from sucking cock all night) and his eyes were half-closed and heavy-lidded, but it was definitely Sergeant Shelton. Sam’d recognize that face anywhere. He peered over the counter and caught a glimpse of the obscenely tented briefs. “Fuck! Merry Christmas to me! This shithead made my life a fuckin’ living hell for 13 weeks and then had me booted the day before I was supposed to graduate from Boot Camp. And this is your winner tonight? Sarge is as straight as they come!”“And boy, can he cum!” Steve joked.

“He’s not really our winner,” Eric said, “’cause he never made it out to the dance stage. He came in late, already half in the bag, not really knowing what the hell he was doing. So, we gave him a coupla shots of Johnnie Walker, making sure one of them was spiked, and here he is. That ‘magic’ potion you gave us works like a charm. Jeffy here didn’t know what hit him!”“Man… this is gonna be great!” Sam said, rubbing his hands together.

“Well, let me get him ready for you then,” Eric said, uncorking a bottle of poppers.

Sam watched in amazement as Eric thrust the poppers under his former drill instructor’s nose. Jeff was so fucked up he didn’t even resist and took several deep snorts. With their victim sufficiently dazed and wobbling unsteadily, Eric lowered his underwear and tucked them under his leather-strapped balls. He then grasped his 10-inch boner and led him out of the office, across the parking lot, and to the room.

He emerged a few minutes later and went back to the office. “Oh, I put a new toy on him,” Eric said. “It’s a combination cockring/dildo, and best of all, the dildo vibrates by remote control.” He handed Sam a small device. “It’s all yours, pal.”Eric and Steve left and Sam waited a few more minutes. He flipped a switch and the sign out front changed to ‘No Vacancy.’ He put a ‘Be Back Later’ sign in the door and forwarded the motel’s phone to the answering service. He unlocked his employee locker, grabbed a few items, and stuffed them into a gym bag. He reached for a small bottle of pills on the top shelf and popped two in his mouth. Viagra. He was already rock hard, but if he was gonna fuck the shit outta Sarge, he wanted his cock to be hard and ready for a long time.

Sam crossed the parking lot quickly and, carefully looking around, opened the door to Jeff’s room and slid inside, hiding in the shadows. Jeff had dozed off a few minutes after Eric put him to bed and was now stirring. He moaned lowly as he awoke. He was lying on his back, no blankets or sheets covering him, dazed half out of his mind. Sam could see that Jeff’s briefs were tented with his erection and that his lips were slightly parted. He thought he detected a bit of drool. Or maybe it was cum.

Shit… Jeff looked good enough to eat, lying there in his cum-soaked white briefs. He was moaning more loudly now, like some cunt getting banged on prom night as his hands unconsciously roamed up and down his chest. He slowly opened and closed his eyes. His head was spinning and he couldn’t gather his thoughts together. His eyes popped open again when he realized he wasn’t in his room. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew this wasn’t his room. Where the hell was he? How did he get here? It was nearly pitch black in the room, the only light coming from a small bedside table. It glowed 3:22 am. He thought back to the night before. Shit… where was he? Oh yeah, now things were coming back. He’d gone to that club… Hot Stuff… around 8:45 or so the night before… but that was what… almost 8 hours earlier? Where did the time go? He thought again. The last thing he remembered clearly was having a drink with… what were there names? All he could remember was tossing back a couple of shots and then… nothing. Shit… did he really drink that much? Oh wait… he was remembering more. Everything was a haze. Oh fuck! It all started to come back to him in bits and pieces… down on all fours… naked… someone grabbing at his dick and slapping his balls… fingers up his ass… Shit… had he been raped?! He must’ve been so fuckin’ hammered that the guys took advantage of him… But raped? Oh man! Raped!!! He remembered flashes of light and clicking noises… Was it a camera…!? Did the fuckers fuck him and take pictures!? Then there were those kids in the alley and a ride in a van… that stuff in the little brown bottle they kept shoving under his nose… what did they call it… poppers? Did they drug him? What the hell?

His lips felt swollen and his mouth hurt. There was a funny taste in his mouth… kind of salty… Shit… it was fuckin’ cum! He began to retch when he recalled what had happened to him. He had sucked dick! He winced at the thought of just how many dicks had been in his mouth that night and how many loads of scum had been dumped in his mouth. He must’ve been really drunk or drugged because he felt like shit. He raised a weary hand to his face and could feel the still-tacky spooge, like snot, all over his face and up his nose. It was even in his ears and in the corners of his eyes and his hair was still sticky with the drying stuff. He dragged himself to a sitting position and swung his feet over the side of the bed to the floor. He wanted to vomit. Anything would taste better than all the cum he had swallowed. Oh fuck, how did he get into this?

He managed to get to his feet and staggered the few steps to the bathroom. He could barely walk and had to hold onto the wall the hole way. Whatever they had given him had really worked a number on him. He couldn’t even see straight and had no idea that Sam was standing just a few feet away, watching him. He flicked on the light switch and squinted until his eyes became adjusted to the bright fluorescent lights. Fuck! It felt like someone had kicked the shit out of him. His ass ached, his dick and balls ached, shit… even his nipples ached! He touched a swollen red nipple. Ohhhh… it hurt but it felt kinda good! He moaned lowly as he unconsciously continued to rub at his nipple while looking in the mirror. Wait… something else was weird… His chest had been shaved! He looked down at his chest and then back in the mirror. There was a reddish-black mark on his neck. A fucking hickey! Damn! They gave him a hickey! Shit… his whole chest was covered with ’em. What happened? He swooned. Man, he was really fucked him up.

He glanced down and saw his crotch. What the hell? His dick was sticking straight out, pushing his underwear out like a fucking tent. He pulled back the waistband and stared in horror. He was wearing a cockring! And it looked like it was hooked to something. He could feel something up his ass. What the hell? He lowered his briefs and saw the leather strap wrapped around his nut sack. Oh shit! They even shaved off all his dick hair! He hands flew to his ass… shaved clean. What were the chicks gonna say when they saw his bare dick, not to mention his ass and chest? Fuck! What were his buddies at the gym gonna say when they saw him? They’d laugh and think he did it purposely. They’d probably even call him a fag… tell everybody about it. His prick was throbbing and drooling and he winced gingerly as he tried to remove the strap. He finally got it off.

From his hiding place a few feet away, Sam hit the button on the remote control, activating the vibrating device in the dildo. He watched in awe as Jeff’s body twitched and his knees buckled at the sensations buzzing in his ass.

“Unnggg….ohhhhh….” Jeff moaned. What the fuck was that? He reached down and tried to undo the cockring.

Sam was in heaven. There was his former drill instructor, now a fucked out cunt. He had to have him. He silently pulled a poppers mask from his bag and crept toward the bathroom, careful not to make any noise. Jeff was preoccupied with trying to remove the cockring/dildo and didn’t see Sam hovering in the shadows outside the bathroom door.

Jeff had finally removed the leather strap and was on the working on cockring/dildo when Sam gave it another buzz, snickering silently as he watched Jeff’s reactions. Jeff looked down at his dick. It was still hard. He touched it. He knees buckled again and he moaned loudly as his dick began to shoot a load of cum. It splashed against the mirror and the countertop. Jeff moaned out loud. It was sick and twisted and wrong, but he couldn’t believe how good that just felt. He finally got the cockring off and the dildo out of his ass, cleaned himself up with a towel and had just pulled up his briefs back up when Sam pounced, clamping the poppers mask over Jeff’s nose and mouth.

‘Mmmpphhfff!’ Jeff cried out, the sound muffled by the mask. Sam’s breath was warm and sticky in Jeff’s ear and on his neck as he whispered. ‘Don’t fight it, Sarge. Come on… nice deep breaths. Come on… Oh yeah…’ Jeff tried to struggle to free his arms, but Sam was holding him tightly, pinning him arms to his side. He could feel Jeff’s body twitch and he felt himself go hard as the big Marine struggled in vain. ‘Mmmmpppphhh!!!! Mmmpphh!!’ Jeff continued, the mask still in place, the poppers clouding his mind. His eyes began to fade and his fighting lessened.

“That’s a good boy, Sarge,” Sam said.

Sarge? Sarge? Jeff’s mind reeled as he tried to recall the voice.

“Oh yeah… you probably don’t remember me, but I remember you,” Sam said, his mouth grazing Jeff’s ear.

The masked covering Jeff’s face and mouth freely allowed the popper fumes to swirl about. The drugs he’d ingested earlier had weakened him so much that he was unable to resist. All he could do was inhale the poppers and slowly spin off into a drifting haze. He felt his head and limbs lighten. Against his will, he felt himself taking deeper breaths, inhaling more and more of the aroma. It was so comforting… just slipping away. His body crumpled back into Sam’s arms and he was aware of being dragged backward and laid out on a soft surface – the bed. The mask was no longer covering his face, but it didn’t matter. He was too far gone to put up any kind of resistance. He felt his briefs being tugged back down and a large hand grasp his cock and begin a slow, corkscrew motion on it. At the same time, two fingers slipped into his asshole and began a similar, corkscrew motion. Jeff moaned out loud at the dizzying sensations. His mind was still a whirr… but the feelings… The fingers in his ass were grazing his prostate, sending delicious signals to his drug-clouded mind and causing his dick to lurch and burp pre-cum.

Nice! They’d shaved him bare. He licked at Jeff’s now hairless balls, lapping up the fresh jizz. He pulled Jeff’s underwear all the way off and tossed them on the floor. He left Jeff lying on the bed groaning and writhing while he grabbed his bag, taking out a pair of leather cuffs and fastening them to Jeff’s wrists. They had hooks on them that he could clip to chains he’d previously installed on the bedposts. He put a pillow under Jeff’s ass. Mmmm… he was gonna have nice easy access to that nice ass of his! He grabbed his bag and pulled out condoms, KY, more poppers and placed them on the bedside table. Finally he took out a penis-shaped bottle he had filled with a syrupy concoction laced with the drug Steve and Eric had used on Jeff earlier in the evening. Poor Sarge was gonna feel totally horny and helpless all at the same time. Even better, the drug would fuck with his mind and make him think he liked it. The next day he would hate himself of course, but tonight he was just gonna be a fucked out twat.

Sam got off on working over straight guys and he especially got off on having it all in living color. He took a digital video camera and tripod from the bag and set it up. Then he got back on the bed, reached into his bag and pulled out a fresh pair of white briefs. He pulled them up Jeff’s long muscular legs and over his tight ass and dick. He placed the dazed man onto his lap and softly stroked his crotch, waiting for him to snap out of his dream state.

‘Mmnnnuuhhh… ohhhhnnn…’ Jeff moaned. He tried to move his arms and realized he was bound. ‘Hey, whthus goin on?’ he mumbled.

‘Too much poppers? Did you pass out there for a second, Sarge?’ he asked, whispering lowly in his ear. Jeff turned his head and looked into Jeff’s eyes. He blinked a few times, as if his mind was sorting through old photos… suddenly there was recognition and Jeff’s eyes widened. Sam smiled. ‘You didn’t think tonight was over, did you?’ He ran his hand softly up Jeff’s leg to his inner thigh and as Jeff opened his mouth to protest, Sam shoved in his cum-soiled briefs.

‘Mmmpphh!!’ He tried to pull away, straining at his bonds. The muscles in his arms bulged has he struggled.

Sam spread Jeff’s legs a bit more and cupped his bulge. He fondled it a bit and felt him getting hard. ‘What’s this? You likin’ this Sarge? You a faggot? Because you’re gettin’ all hard.’

‘Unnnn… mmmmm…’ Jeff moaned through his gag as Sam continued to lightly tickle his inner thighs and softly stroke his ball sack. ‘Mmmmm… uuunnhhhh… oooohhh.’ Despite all he had been through just hours before, his body was only remembering the pleasure.

‘Oh yeah, you like this, don’t you,’ he whispered, his face next to his. He rubbed his crotch and ran the other over Jeff’s erect nipples.

Jeff came to his senses and shook his head violently. He was sputtering through his gag and finally managed to spit it out. ‘No… get off mee, you fuckin’ fag!’

‘Ohhh,’ Sam cooed softly, ‘you just need to get in the mood.’ While still keeping up his massage on Jeff’s crotch, he reached over and grabbed the poppers mask and put it over Jeff’s face. “Here you go. Now you’ll feel all better.’

Jeff took a breath and threw his head back as the familiar aroma invaded his nostril. He took another breath. ‘Uhhnnnn… ohhhhh.’ His head lolled back and his shoulders slumped. Sam kept the mask on until Jeff was completely out of it. Then he lifted his head and gave him another long hit in each nostril. He leaned in and ran his tongue over Jeff’s hard nipples. He nibbled at them. ‘Uhhhnnnn…’

‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he said. “You like these.” He worked his long index finger between Jeff’s lips and into his mouth. He slid it back and forth and as soon as he felt Jeff’s mouth react, he replaced the finger with the dick-shaped bottle of drugged juice.

As Jeff slowly began to suckle on the dick-shaped bottle, slurping down its drugged contents, Sam reached out and pinched at Jeff’s nipples. Jeff moaned but continued to greedily nurse, both hands wrapped around the shaft of the bottle.

‘That’s a good boy, Sarge,’ he cooed, sliding the cock-shaped bottle in and out of Jeff’s bottle like a fat dick. ‘Suck it all down… I’m gonna teach you a few things tonight.’ He was planning to make Jeff beg him to fuck him. He pulled the bottle from Jeff’s mouth. That was about enough to get him started. Jeff reached out with both hands to grab for the bottle and as he did, Sam chained the leather cuff on each wrist to a hook on the headboard and then shoved the soiled briefs back into his mouth.

‘There you go, you Devil Dog!’ he said once he had Jeff tied down. He stood up and unbuttoned his jeans. Within seconds he was stripped down to his white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He straddled his captive stud. He squirted some KY onto his index finger, reached into the leg opening of Jeff’s briefs, and slowly massaged his ass pucker. The pounding his ass had taken earlier had loosened up his sphincter muscles and it wasn’t long before Sam was able to work three fingers into Jeff’s ass. Sam slipped Jeff’s underwear off and Jeff’s hips thrust upward and his cock lurched. ‘Mmmm… nnnhhhhh… ohhhhh…’

Sam slid his fingers in and out of Jeff’s butt. Back and forth, back and forth. He found the big man’s prostate and frigged it. Jeff flopped around like a fish out of water.

‘If I take off your gag do you promise not to scream?’

The horny stud nodded yes. Keeping a finger probing Jeff’s ass, Sam removed the gag.

‘I gotta cum. Pllleeaassee…. You gotta get me off….’

‘Shhh… ssshhhh…’ Sam whispered, putting his fingers to Jeff’s lips. ‘You don’t want everybody in the place to hear you getting made like this, do you?’ Jeff shook his head.

With his finger still buried in Jeff’s ass, Sam grasped his dick with the other. It was like a tent pole, sticking straight up, glistening with pre-cum. Sam ran his thumb over up the sticky shaft to the tip, wetting it completely with his sap. He did this slowly and deliberately, knowing it was causing intense feelings.

‘Uhnn! Oh! Fuck! Fuck!!’ Jeff cried out, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. Sam continued fingering and bent his face over Jeff’s cock. He flicked his tongue lightly at the head. Jeff went wild.

‘Ohh… man… you gotta get me off man,’ he whispered again hoarsely.

‘Oh, I’ll get you off. But you have to ask. You have to BEG.’ He started to jerk Jeff’s dick, roiling the big palm of his hand over the cock tip, the rough skin of his hand chafing and irritating the soft sensitive dick head.

‘Mmmmmm… oohhhh…’ Jeff whimpered, his body wracking with spasms.

‘Is this what you want?’ Sam hissed lowly, roiling his cupped palm over the sticky cock head.

‘Ooooooo… ohhhhh… yessss… yesss… ohhhh… man, do it! Do it!’

‘Do you want it?’ he asked again, speeding up his cock play.

‘Yes! Yes! You gotta let me cummm..! Pleeeeaasseeeeeee….. unnnnhhhh…’

‘Are you sure?’ Sam asked. Jeff nodded. “Ask me to fuck you. And say please.”

Jeff nodded his head wildly. “PLEASE!!!! Please get me off!” Sam pulled his finger from Jeff’s ass and grabbed the poppers mask. He put it over Jeff’s face and instructed him to take a deep breath. He didn’t have to ask twice. Jeff took several deep breaths and when he was completely high again, Sam removed the mask. He opened Jeff’s slack mouth, aimed his big dick at the gaping opening and gave him a few more jerks.

Suddenly Jeff’s body arched and he pulled at his bonds. “Uhhhnnnn!!!!’ His nuts tightened and his dick convulsed. Streams of his own cum began to shoot from the tip of his dick right into his open mouth. Some missed his mouth and got in his nose and on his chin. When his thrusting abated Sam softly stroked the side of his face.

‘Swallow now. Swallow,’ he coaxed, closing Jeff’s mouth and stroking his throat. ‘Be a good boy and swallow.’ Jeff obeyed, too buzzed to be aware that he was eating his own cum. ‘You missed some on your lips, buddy,’ Sam said. Jeff flicked his tongue out and cleaned up the remaining cum.

Sam put the dick bottle to Jeff’s lips and coaxed him to drink. As he sucked down the contents, Sam cuffed his ankles with two leather straps and looped lengths of cord through the metal rings on the cuffs and through two small pulleys that had been on the headboard. He yanked at the ropes and Jeff’s legs were pulled up and over his head, exposing his naked ass.

He lifted Jeff’s heavy nut sack out of the way and buried his nose in Jeff’s ass. His tongue snaked in out and licked at the shiny pink hole.

‘Ohhh… unnhhh…’ Jeff moaned as he arched his body and pulled at his restraints. The tongue swirling in his ass was sending waves of pleasure through his body. ‘Oh, gawwwddd…. mmmmm…’

Sam looked up, past Jeff’s erect dick. ‘You want me to fuck you, Sarge?’

‘No, no,’ Jeff insisted, shaking his head violently. He was buzzed from the drugs but he still didn’t want to get fucked.

Sam handed the nearly empty dick bottle back to Jeff and watched him wrap his sexy lips around the nipple and suckle, emptying the contents. He dove back down and for the next hour he worked the fucking stud’s hot hole over and over again. He alternated tonguing his ass and inserting up to three fingers at once in it. All the while he masturbated Jeff’s flagpole cock and plucked at his raw titties. He took him to the edge of orgasm several times, pausing every few minutes to ask the same question. ‘Do you want me to fuck you?’ Each time he asked Jeff refused, but Sam knew it was only a matter of time. He took individual bottles of poppers and put them to Jeff’s nose and let him inhale deeply. One hand was wrapped around Jeff’s rigid cock, with his rough thumb running over the over-stimulated mushroom head, and the index finger of his other hand jammed firmly up his ass, nudging at his prostate.

‘Do you want me to fuck you?’ Sam asked again, his voice low and raspy.

Jeff still wouldn’t relent. Something in him wouldn’t allow it. “No… no…”

Sam could see that he wouldn’t break Jeff tonight. ‘Well, Sarge,’ he said, “whether you want it or not, you’re going to get it.” And with that, Sam grabbed a condom from the night table, put it on and thrust his hard, rigid dick into Jeff’s ass.

Jeff screamed but Sam gagged him with his dirty briefs once again, muffling any noise.

“Oh, come on you little cock whore,” Sam said. “You’ve been getting fucked and sucked all night. What’s the big deal now?

Sam continued to pound his hard cock into Jeff’s pussy as the former Marine drill instructor moaned and writhed. His hips were bucking as he Sam sped up his thrusts. Jeff began to cum and there were more muffled cries as stream after stream of fuck swill shot out of his cock like cannon fire. Up his chest, on his face and over his shoulders. Jeff’s orgasm subsided but Sam, still juiced up, continued to fuck and fuck and fuck. Jeff writhed and moaned as his sensitive fuck nut was dinged, but being tied up, there was little he could do but put up with Sam’s incessant banging.

After half and hour of constant fucking, courtesy of Viagra, it looked like Jeff had passed out, but to be sure Sam wet a rag with some chloroform from his and held it to Jeff’s nose. ‘Uhhhnnn… noooo….’ Jeff moaned, his eyes fluttering. Then he was out.

Sam got dressed and unbound Jeff. After taking several pictures he slipped Jeff’s briefs back on. He took more pictures. And more pictures. Then he packed up all his gear. He was about to leave the room when he remembered the envelope Eric had given him. He took it from the bag and was going to place it on the bedside table like he usually did when an idea flashed in his mind. He tore it open and withdrew the prize money. He rolled it tightly into a tube and wedged it up Jeff’s asshole. He gave the passed out stud a long kiss on the mouth and then another on the neck, being sure to leave another hickey. He covered him with a sheet, kissed his forehead and, taking his bag, left the room.

A dull pain in his ass woke Jeff from his chloroform-induced sleep. He looked around. The digital clock on the nightstand displayed 10:27 am. He reached up and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand, squinting as the light blinded him for a minute. When he became accustomed to it he opened his eyes wider and looked around him.

His clothes were strewn haphazardly on a chair. He crawled out of the bed and staggered to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he looked in the mirror. His nipples were red and raw and his lips were slightly swollen. He was wearing his briefs but they were sticky and soaked through with drying cum. He turned to go back to bed and stopped. He wasn’t in his room… then he remembered last night… oh fuckin’ shit! The throbbing in his ass returned. He reached down the back of his briefs and felt a thick wad of paper. It was inserted in his ass.

He gingerly slid it out and was about to drop it on the floor when he recognized a twenty-dollar bill. There were several of them, along with a few fifties and a couple of hundreds. They had been rolled up and shoved up his asshole. He counted the money. There was $2000.00 and a note that said “Congratulations!”

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The water was just the right temperature as Ron slipped off his housecoat. He stood in the bathroom staring down at the milky suds in the tub, smiling. It was just how he liked it as he slipped his lithe young body into the steaming water. He stood there for a minute, letting his feet get used to the hot water, then slowly he lowered himself into the bath, letting his nerves relax under the hot caress of the soapy water.

It felt so damn good as he stretched out in the luxurious bathtub. Wasn’t easy to have gotten either but shit, he deserved his luxuries. After all one didn’t really expect a big name like him to live anything but the large life, now did they? He had his fans to consider. They expected to see things like over sized bathtubs, mirrors all over and bowls filled with condoms.

Things weren’t always this way though. It had been fucking hard to put on the show that one expected but he had done it. There had been times when he had sacrificed food to just keep his internet connection. Without that, there never would be this today. Still he didn’t like to dwell on that as the hot water eased the tension between his shoulder blades. God it felt so good to just soak.

His mind worked overtime none the less. Times past he would be worrying about the upcoming show, but not anymore. Ron had his routine down pretty good which pleased his fans. They got to see him in all his glory. One reason why he enjoyed a good hot bath before going live on camera. Though there had been times when the water hadn’t been quite so hot or bubbly. Still back then it never really seemed so bad. Having Will covering his back had made a difference but that was then, not now. Will was long gone which he felt sad about.

Still it wasn’t his fault. Will had made his choices just as he had. Sliding his hands down his body, he thought about Will and how hot he was. There was no denying that in comparing bodies, he wished his was more like Wills. He had a much fuller body, more rippling muscles back then, and one nice cock.

Man how he used to enjoy taking that cock up his ass back then, still wouldn’t mind if things were different between them. The idea of Will’s big cock pressing up into his ass made his own cock stiffen in the water. He glanced down his body to see the tip of his cock poking up through some bubbles. It made him smile as he let the water swirl around the bopping cock head. It looked like one huge periscope which gave him a bit of a giggle.

It used to be fun sharing a bath with Will. They would get more water on the bathroom floor at times, but it was fun. The way Will would wedge his feet between Ron’s legs, the toes stroking the lump of flesh that he called his little torpedo. Will was always naming cocks. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he remembered Will pointing to a guy’s dick on one occasion.

The guy was a true bear and had a massive amount of body hair. He was standing there, soft and his pubic hairs covered the cock. Will had pointed and giggled while hitting him in the ribs, attracting his attention. He had looked and Will had made some smart ass remark, about camouflage. It really had been funny then, as the guy was small until needed. When erect it wasn’t exactly a foot long but it sure as hell looked like it. Will nicknamed the bear’s dick Camouflage Harry.

Ron’s hand moved around the base of his cock, enjoying the memories of those times. He loved the way Will was always joking, always taking a casual approach to life. Yet when it came to performing, Will was all business. He knew how to get it up and keep it hard, without any effort really. No fluffer needed with Will. Still it was amazing to watch how one second he had a huge hard on, next it was totally limp. Simply waiting for the next scene, or the next roll of film to be loaded.

Drugs had ruined that but as much as he had wanted to help his friend, he couldn’t. Not if he wanted to succeed himself so they had parted. It hadn’t been easy but business was business. They told each other it was okay, that they’d hook up again later, but Ron knew it was a lie. Will wouldn’t come back, not with his habit.

Still the memory of Will in the tub kept his hand busy. He recalled how Will would tickle him, then splash his face with water, all the time stroking his cock with the toes. Man it would feel so good to feel the press of that big toe into his balls, then feel it sliding under his bum. The toes arching along his crack, pressing against the sensitive inside flesh. They always splashed but when the toes went down the ass, it all stopped. They would become serious then and look into each others eyes as if some secret message was written there.

Will had the most gorgeous eyes you could imagine. Each time he would look into them, his heart would beat quickly, as it was right now. His breathing would become shallow as he felt the foot pushing up against his cheeks. The hot water would swirl around, adding to the pleasure such touching brought to him. Will was one in a million in how easily he could arose any male.

The way he could just look into your eyes and make you hard. The simple way he would reach out and lightly caress Ron’s cock, the tip of the finger lightly moving around the head, then down the shivering shaft was to die for. It would always get him hot, make him stiff. Just thinking about it was sometimes enough.

Then too how he would let the fingers lightly press into the sac. Light at first then gradually increasing the pressure while he would shift to get in closer to Ron. His body always had that scent too, the one of a hungry man on the prowl for sex. It would fill his nostrils and make his heart skip a beat or two as the fingers would then move down, to lightly touch the sac, pushing them a bit to either side before going quickly under to run up his love canal. God it would feel so good.

By then Will would be almost on top of him, hid hot muscular body pressing firmly down onto Ron. Nothing was by chance either. The hand would creep up to this hole, lightly pushing the water to add to the sensation in his rear. It all made the deep lingering kiss more special. To feel the finger probing, the hard monster cock pressing into his groin, the press of lips on his own mouth.

The memories were like yesterday as his hand started to pull on his hard cock. Nothing else could turn him on so quickly either. The taste of Will’s tongue in his mouth still was fresh as he worked his cock in the soapy hot water. The smell of his manhood made his nostrils flare now as his hand was splashing the water, making waves in the bath. Water slopped over the edge but Ron didn’t care as he closed his eyes, reliving just one of many times that Will would take him in the bath.

His breathing was short as he thought about how Will would press his cock hard into his groin. His own cock would be shoved aside for the sake of the groin fuck. Will would work him then, the finger pressing harder up into his butt. The pressing would make him squirm and moan. The sound muted by the now hard press of Will’s mouth on his own. The taste and sounds were real as he felt his body surrendering to Will’s presence. Yes he thought, take me now. It was what he would always say as the image of will turning him over, of taking no time at all to rip open a condom package.

The whole idea of being fucked in the bath had always gotten him excited, and Will knew it. He would have the condom over his pole while he still kept a finger probing deep into Ron’s ass. The pressure wouldn’t ease either. Even the sudden emptiness as he would pull the probing finger out just seconds before plunging his thick hard cock in always surprised him. The deftness he would use to spread his cheeks and insert that massive tool.

Pain would lance up his whole body. He would cry out loudly but it didn’t matter. He was firmly impaled on that cock and it wouldn’t let up until Will had been pleased. God how he could fuck too. The quick hard jabs into his body, the refusal to lessen it no matter how much he pleaded. Then after several hard deep penetrating thrusts, Will would start to add grinds to his motion. One second the thick cock was digging deep down into his guts, then it was twisting every which way possible. He would kick out and splash as the pain and pleasure became one inside of him.

The more he struggled and cried out, the faster Will would pound his ass. Sometimes he would even swallow some water, choking but it never lasted for more than a second or two as he would fight to push up, to meet every hard thrust that Will gave him. Even now he could feel that massive pole deep inside, feel it ripping his muscles apart. The cries were real too as he felt his body surrendering, giving in to the lust that Will held for him. It always ended that way, him crying as his body shook and cum shot from his cock to mingle in the warm water, or at least what was left of the water.

He sighed as his hand dropped to the side. His body was totally spent as he gulped for air, feeling the coolness pass over his body. Opening his eyes he stared up at the tiles and then looked over, to see the floor glistening at him. A sheen of water over the floor made Ron smile, just as it used to do when Will had been around.

Maybe one day it would happen again. Not with Will but someone like him. That would be nice to experience though he doubted it would happen. There just weren’t many guys like Will around anymore. Ron sighed as he realized he’d have to get out of the bath soon. It would be nearly time for the cam show and as he thought about that, he wondered if maybe tomorrow he wouldn’t go visit Will. After all, it had been almost three months since he had last visited the grave.

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