Author: admin

I was just eighteen when my grandpa first wanked me off. He was sixty seven, pretty fit and as I discovered had a passion for porn.

“Now you’re of age Ben I have something to show you in my shed.” he said beckoning me down the garden path.

My grandma had died years before so grandpa lived alone but was more than capable of looking after himself but I’d always got on well with him so chose to visit him every week.

“Look at these lad, these will get you excited now that you are a man” he said showing me a variety of

hard core porn magazines.

I picked one up and flicked through the pages to see images of huge cocks stretching big titted women’s cunts and arseholes. Another magazine was dedicated to cock sucking and had women with their mouths crammed full of cock, even two cocks at a time. The images of spunk dripping mouths and cock greedy women certainly began to arouse me.

“They are exciting aren’t they lad?” said grandpa “I often come down here and wank off looking at them. This magazine is my very favourite though”.

I was surprised at his candid remarks and as even more surprised with the magazine he shoved into my hand. It was full of gay guys sucking cock and fucking and was particularly interesting as it was silver haired old men with younger men.

“Does that surprise you lad?” asked grandpa

“I like all porn Ben, love this photo particularly and have wanked myself silly looking at it”.

The photo was of an old guy with two young men, the young guys had their cocks n the old man’s mouth and cum was oozing from his lips.

I must say the photo got my cock twitching uncomfortably and the photo on the next page had me rock hard. The old man in the photo had a big cock and it was half in one of the  young guy’s arsehole whilst he had the other young guys cock in his mouth and dribbling cum.

“Are you excited lad” asked grandpa placing a hand on my crotch. “Oh! Yes you are lad, I can feel something stirring in there”.

I was nervously excited with my heart now pounding but I just let grandpa touch me as it felt so nice.

I watched as he unzipped my jeans and pulled my stiff cock from my pants.

“Wow! I see that big cocks run in the family lad, this is super big” he said gripping my shaft.

“Look at the photo’s Ben” he said and as I did he began to wank me off.

He was behind me tossing my dick and I could feel his own erection pressing against my bum. Of course I was so excited it didn’t take me long to cum. My spunk flew from my cock splattering one of the magazines and the wall opposite. The force of my orgasm unlike any other and certainly packed with cum.

Grandpa continued tossing me until I was cum dry and sensitive then he released my prick and told me to zip up.

The following weekly visit was even more interesting and I asked grandpa to show me the magazines again. His face lit up as soon as I popped the question and we wee soon in the garden shed thumbing through the horny pictures.

“I think I like the gay magazine the best” I said. “Love that it is an older man with young men”.

Grandpa’s eyes twinkled, he was rubbing his crotch and getting as excited as me.

He pulled his cock out and I was amazed at the size and handsome thickness of his prick.

“Do you want to hold it lad?” asked grandpa.

In a second I had his hot throbbing cock in my hand and was wanking it slowly.

“Ooooh! Lad that feels so nice but we need to go to my bedroom to really get down to some fun” said Grandpa breathing heavily.

“I want to do this to you” he said showing me one of the gay porn photo’s. It was a photo of the old guy sucking on the young man’s cock and it made my dick jump.

Ten minutes later I was stretched out naked on grandpa’s bed with his hot mouth wrapped around my cock and his tongue lapping at my throbbing knob.

When he got half my prick in his mouth and started sucking I nearly shot my load. Grandpa was a very experienced cock sucker it turns out and he knew how to edge me. Watching his lips curl over my prick and his hand wank me was pretty hot stuff, so hot my balls were aching to pop. Easing a finger into my arsehole had me in fucking raptures on right on the edge again.

Two fingers worked into me then three as grandpa continued to suck my stiff throbbing cock.

My arsehole was twitching and on fire and I was loving the finger fuck so much.

I clutched grandpa’s silver head and held it against my cock forcing more into his mouth, He could certainly take more and was soon gobbling it all down his hot throat as he rammed his fingers up my arsehole.

“I want you to fuck me grandpa” I said suddenly my body writhing against his mouth and fingers.

I’d never been fucked but I wanted to feel a cock inside me, grandpa’s big cock.

He stopped sucking me and looked directly at me.

“Are you sure you can take my stiff cock inside you lad?” he asked, holding my cock upright in his hand.

“Fuck yes!” I replied “I certainly want to try”.

He held my prick against his craggy cheeks, a bead of pre cum running from the tip and down my shaft.

Grandpa licked my pre cum and then got hold of my legs and parted them.

With a lavish amount of saliva he coated his stiff cock and then gobbed a load of spit and worked it into my hole. He then got between my legs and pressed his fuck hungry knob to my hole.

The heat of his cock was tremendous and I braced myself for his first thrust.

“Fuck!” I yelled, his cock hurt and I fought against it.

“Just relax Ben, arseholes stretch wide and yours is no exception. Just relax and let me in”.

I was panting like crazy but managed to relax enough for him to stick his knob inside me.

The feeling was awesome, grandpa’s hot knob nestled inside me and driving me wild.

“Relax lad, just relax”.

Another inch of cock and I was squealing with delight.

“You want some more Ben?” said grandpa.

I was going to get more even if I had said no.

Another two hot inches of cock slid up my arse and I had my hands against grandpa’s silvery haired chest trying to control the penetration.

Another hard shove and I had the full length rammed right up me to the balls with grandpa starting to fuck.

“Oh! No! It hurts” I said trying to stop the thrust of grandpa’s stiff cock but it was to no avail. As he said once he had got into my burning hot hole he could not stop his cock from fucking.

Gradually I got used to the bum packed feeling and started to actually like the feel of his dick inside me. He took hold of my cock and wanked me as he fucked harder and harder.

I was thrashing my head from side to side and taking his prick deep inside me. Grandpa’s balls slapped me with every thrust and my inner hole was pulsating with cock lust.

I was really getting into it and in the end was grabbing grandpa’s arse cheeks and pulling him into me.

“Fuck me grandpa” I yelled “I’m loving it now. Oh! Fuck it’s amazing”.

“I knew you would like it once my cock was in there deep. Bet you’d like my spunk shooting right up your hot arse too lad?”

“Fuck yes” I wailed “I want it. Oh! Please give me all of your cum”.

Grandpa grabbed my two wrists and held them above my head as he ram fucked my burning arsehole. I wrapped my legs around him, begged for his cum and as he rammed me my cock just

let loose it’s load without being touched. Jerk after jerk of my prick and my belly was splattered with my spunk much to grandpa’s delight.

The fuck continued hard and lustful with grandpa shafting me like there was no tomorrow.

I was mumbling “Oh! Sweet Fuck!” over and over and finally grandpa groaned loud and let me have his bollock load of cum. He fucked and spurted into me, his arse keeping up a good pace until his old nuts were drained dry.

My poor arsehole was gaping and red raw, cum oozing from me when grandpa pulled out.

We lay on the bed for ages after with me just stroking grandpa’s big but sleeping cock. It felt so silky soft I could hardly believe that it had been rock hard and thrashing up my arse but for my arse being a stinging reminder.

Grandpa looked as if he was asleep but his cock certainly wasn’t and was soon rock hard and throbbing like fuck in my hand. I slid down the bed and let my tongue roll over the velvety knob before licking all the way down the shaft and back. Grandpa moaned gently as I took his knob into my mouth and sucked hard. Boy was it tasty, my mouth just wallowed in the rampant stiffness of the brute my saliva rolling copiously down the rigid shaft and over my grandpa’s cum loaded balls.

He moaned again this time holding my head onto his cock and pushing his prick further into my mouth. Before I knew what was happening he had me on my back and was straddling my chest with his big juicy dick in my mouth and fucking into my throat.

I gagged a few times but grandpa kept fucking my gob until I was able to take half of his cock into my throat.

“That’s it lad, nothing like a good deep throating. That feels amazing Ben just fucking amazing”.

I was so excited that I could get part of his cock into my throat and my hand was soon wanking my own stiff cock.

Grandpa soon gave me a helping hand and was wanking me as he throat fucked me to absolute bliss.

“Sit on my prick lad”. he said “Ride grandpa’s cock good and hard. get it right up your burning hot arsehole lad”.

Grandpa lay on his back holding his cock so that I could sit down firmly on it.

My arsehole was still pretty fuck sore but seeing that hard cock made me want it more and more so after coating it with a mouth full of spit I edged down on to it, my arsehole taking it gently inch by inch.

Grandpa suddenly bucked upwards and I got the full length of his cock deep in my bum hole and throbbing against my young prostate.

The feeling was out of this world and when I started to ride his dick the soreness was a thing of the past and I went hell for leather on his old cock.

Grandpa clutched my arse cheeks  spreading my hole wide so that his prick owned my hole.

“Oh! Fuck! Grandpa!” I wailed “That is so good”.

It was so good I began to sob, tears rolling down my cheeks as my arsehole took every inch of his cock.

“Yes1 Yes!” I hollered “Oh!! Fuck! I need this so bad”.

My arsehole was burning hot and grandpa was thrusting up as I sat down giving me the fuck of a lifetime.

“I want to shoot my old spunk up your randy young fuck hole” said grandpa grunting and panting.

“I wan it” I replied whimpering incessantly “Fill me with cum grandpa fill my arse with cum”.

A terrific groan and hard thrust had grandpa spurting his ball batter deep into my waiting guts.

he held his cock still whilst it jerked and pumped it’s load, an orgasm that had my own cock spurting spunk everywhere.

My arsehole was clenching the cock and milking every drop from my grandpa’s balls as my own cock throbbed out it’s creamy young cum load.

My visits to grandpa got more and more regular, most times I could hardly walk out of his house.

Most times my arsehole was on fire and dripping cum into my pants but hell was it worth it.

Old cock on demand whenever I wanted it and grandpa sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

I’d been chatting with some guys on Recon to further explore my submissive tendencies. Having recently dabbled in being restrained and flogged in somebody’s basement, I was ready to take things up a notch. The guys told me there was a weeknight men’s night and I’d be welcomed as a newcomer to alleviate my anxiety. They told me to wear all black if I wanted to fit in well.

I did more than that. I’d been in chastity for a couple of days now leaving my key with a regular fuck buddy. I wore a black 2” waistband Gym jockstrap (very classic), some tight black jeans with my black boots and a tight fitting leather vest I purchased at IML about 8 years ago and still fit me well. I’d shaved down my body entirely, even my scalp, with the exception of my closely cropped salt & pepper beard. There would be no doubt I was a sub, I wanted that to be very obvious.

Nervously, I took a ride share over to the warehouse which housed the club. After signing forms and paying the membership fee, I was given a key to a locker and told to dress any way I felt comfortable. I’m somewhat of an exhibitionist, so I stripped down to my jock and boots and began to explore the space, along the way seeing men in all sorts off gear, some just conversing, some engaged in various sex acts on the slings and benches, etc. maybe a crowd of 20-25 guys there at this time on a weeknight.

My wandering led me to a large room that fascinated me. I’d been watching, and getting off to, so much flogging and whipping porn, and this room looked exactly like the set of a kink.com scene. There were hooks in the ceiling, walls, and floor, ropes, a couple of crosses, a ladder, and on tables and walls were every impact play toy I’d dreamed of! My heart began to race. I was somewhat surprised nobody was using the room at the moment.

While slowly walking around that room, lingering, picking up the various implements, a deep baritone voice startled me, “You like what you see, boy?”

I turned my head and saw a very tall and beefy Black man staring at me. He was in a leather vest and black leather jockstrap, his chest puffed out. He had a graying moustache, probably pushing 60, but definitely confident and fit.

”Ummm, yes Sir” I said shyly.

”I’ve never seen you here before. I’m Master Rob”, and he extended his large hand out to shake mine.

”I’m Rich”, I replied, and my body began to sweat profusely now.

”No need to be nervous, boy Rich, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you want me to”, then he winked. “Tell me, have you done this before?”

”A few times, yes, mostly just in someone else’s house or mine, nothing like this. They told me a had a high pain tolerance, but I don’t know.”

”So you’re still an amateur, and show some respect and call me Master Rob. I won’t remind you again. Would you like me to restrain you and see how much you can take? I love to break in newbies like you, boy Rich.”

”I think so, Master Rob. To be honest, this is why I came here tonight. I wanted to do this for real.”

Master Rob brought me in for a hug and a kiss and then ran his hands up and down my entire body. “Ohh, this is going to be fun. I’m gonna love turning you pink! You ready to get started? You can say no and it’s fine, but if you say yes, I need you to trust me, boy.”

My heart pounded, I was facing the moment of truth.  I didn’t hesitate, “Yes, Master, I’m ready.”

“That’s a good boy. Before we begin, you need a safe word. Only use it if you want to stop. If you say it then the session is over, so be certain about it, boy Rich. Don’t be a hero, take as much as you can, but I want you to enjoy it, too. You understand me?”

”Yes, Master Rob.”

”Tell me then, what’s your safe word, boy?”

”Beaches!”, I screamed out.

”Well that’s a new one. Why beaches, boy?”

”Because the beach is my happy place, Master Rob! I always feel great at the beach!”

”Ok, beaches it is!”

Master Rob grabbed onto some rope and affixed my hands to a hanging hook above me. The knots were tight and binding, I felt my torso stretching and I was on my tippy toes. Then he brought over a metal spreader bar to spread my legs wide apart, and tied each ankle to a hook on the floor.  Then a bite bar was secured over my mouth. I had to remind myself this was exactly what I wanted, why I was there. I saw in videos that the  floggees would take deep breaths to relax their bodies. I closed my eyes and did just that.

I felt a small wooden paddle begin to lightly tap my pecs and then down the front of my stomach, down to my thighs, then the backs of my thighs, my back up to my shoulders. And then the first real “whack” of the paddle whirled through the air as it cracked down on my bare butt. I bit down hard on the bar in my mouth, but didn’t move mostly because I couldn’t, “whack, whack, whack!” They just kept coming landing across each butt cheek and then he came to my front side, demanded I open my eyes and whacked my abs twice as hard, then a few more landing across each pec. My body stung just a little. I felt the perspiration of my shaved pits drip down my sides. 

Master Rob stopped and rubbed my body all over with hands.

”How you doin’, boy? You want more?”

“Yeth Mather Rob!”,I yelled through the bite grip. 

“You’re doing great, boy. Such a good, boy!”

Master Rob then began to run the leather ends of a cat-o-nine tails flogger all over my body. It sent shivers down my spine! I once again took deep breaths and felt Master Rob began to use the flogger lightly across my chest, very slowly, he increased the tempo and weight of shot and soon he was going at my left thigh pretty hard. My feet planted and immobilized, I had no where to go, I wanted to jump or move away, but I couldn’t. It stung like hell, but I loved it. My mind raced as the blows continued to the other thigh, thinking of all those boundgod models in the exact same predicament as me, and worse. Surely, I could take it.

”That’s it boy, stick that ass out for me. Show me how much you want it!”

I slightly arched back to present my ass and I was rewarded with a very severe blow across my buttocks! Master Rob used the flogger like a windmill, beating my ass up with it before taking it back and swinging even harder, testing me. I howled but I was on an intense high! I stick my ass out again and again, wanting to receive those blows almost daring Master Rob to give me the best he’s got!

”Oh, you like this don’t you boy! You taunting me sticking that ass out like that? I’ll show you, motherfucker!”

Master Rob circled around me, stroking me with forehand and backhands, my back, shoulders, entire chest, ass, thighs, grunting as he laced into me. I was screaming now, and was cringing, but not ready to scream “peaches” just yet!

Master Rob dropped the flogger and once again used his hands to feel my entire body. “Fuck boy, your skin feels so hot! Didn’t expect you to take so much on your first time. You think you want more or want to stop?”

”More, pleath, Mather!” I lisped through the gag. 

Master Rob pulled his hard Black cock out from his jockstrap and stroked it as I watched. He unstrung my wrists and removed the gag. “Come on boy Rich. Show me how you suck cock! I’m sure you’re an expert by looking at you!” 

I was still standing with my legs apart when he pulled down on the back of my head and impaled my throat a few times. My wet mouth coated his dick real good.

”Fuck boy, I don’t wanna cum yet. I’m not done with you!”

Master Rob freed my ankles and marched me to the metal ladder towards a corner of the room. He handcuffed my wrists as if I was hugging the ladder and then my ankles. I was probably 3 steps above the ground, my body weight pressed onto the ladder. This time he stuffed a bandanna into my mouth. I’d only been caned once before, and it was a bitch. Master Rob spent the next 15-20 minutes using the length of the cane across my ankles up to my shoulder blades, even pulling down my jock slightly to get my balls under the lock. I was sure I was wearing zebra stripes by now. I’d seen the marks a hard caning could leave. As he hammered away at my ass I began to flinch causing the ladder to move forward. I’d slobbered into that bandanna, screaming wildly as he hit me with the sharp tool.

We’d now drawn a little crowd and another man said,”Well done, Rob. Look at that! And I think he wants more!”

”You think so, Paul, why don’t we ask him?

Master Rob pulled the bandanna out of mouth and asked if I wanted more. 

I was almost sobbing now, my entire backside throbbing in stinging pain, but now I had an audience. I couldn’t say no. I took a very deep breath and clearly shouted, “Yes, please Master Rob! More!”

Master Rob shackled me to the St Andrews cross my backside to the wall. He’d stripped me of my jockstrap, shoved it into my mouth and secured it with duct tape.  He brought the flogger right up to my cock and began to gently swirl it around, once again increasing the veracity, until my cock and balls were jumping. It was when he used a few hard swats to my junk that I almost erupted! Even caged, the feeling of some hard CBT was fucking incredible!

But then he went back to the table in back and placed the flogger down. In his hands were a basket of clothes pins. He began to place them all over my body, my thighs, my balls, sides, chest, arms, tits, etc. like 50 or more and I shrieked like a fucking baby with each one! A few men watching me now, I wasn’t going to quit. I was gonna power through this.

Master Rob had a single tail whip in his hands now, and as he flicked his wrist towards me, the clothes pins were snapping off one by one. This was the most painful yet, but I was in such a euphoric and endorphin riddled trance, I took each bite of that tail like a champ until all the clothes pins were knocked off, leaving the few on my balls for last. Mercifully, Master Rob did not whip my balls with the single tail, he pulled them off manually. Then he undid my wrists and once again forced my head down into his cock until he fed me a glorious load.

He undid my ankles and began to massage me, head to toe, whispering I was such a good boy, how impressed he was with me, etc. He kept asking if I was ok and I told him it was one of the best and most memorable experiences of my life. And then he hugged me and I sobbed, letting all the pent up emotions release from my body.

Gingerly, he walked with me to the locker room and helped me open my locker. I looked in the mirror and I was striped like a zebra all over my body! I had a couple of raises lacerations on various body parts, but nothing too serious.

Master Rob offered me a ride home after we dressed and when he dropped me off said he hoped to see me back at the club again, but I should wait for my body to properly heal.

When I finally got home, it was after midnight. I popped a few aspirin, stripped and lay on the mattress trying not to move around too much. I’d put my body through an ordeal, but it was worth it. I’m looking forward to doing it again and exploring more methods of restraints, bondage, other whips and floggers, and really testing my limits.  

Chapter 4

I want your courageous ass

-I’m gonna strip too, Ernest –that’s the first thing he told me once we were in the kitchen.

Once I saw him taking off his clothes, my dick started to be so hard that I don’t remember to ever have had it that high.

-Once I’ve noticed your courage this morning, Rudy, all your body is making me hornier that I’ve ever been watching a sexy naked girl. Oh, I hope you can forgive your father for telling you this.

-You’re also being courageous for telling me those words. Wonderful to see you own father that hard as I strip. You could even jack off as I finish.

I started then to masturbate as he pulled down his briefs. Such sexy dick my son has! But now he turned; such sexy ass!

But he would still surprise me. He went quickly on all fours and told me.

-Now fuck me, Ernest Soul, your turn to fuck your son in the ass.

-I’m not sure I want to do that to you, Rudy –but my hard cock belied my words.

-I want your courageous ass, Ernest and I’m lucky that this morning you offered it to me to fuck over and over again and I really intend to shag you very often, probably again in a short while. But I am moved that you’ve started seeing me courageous at last, dad and now it’s my turn to show you the same courage you’ve shown me.

-But you’ve given me a blowjob and that’s enough, Rudy.

-It’s not enough, Ernest; now I’ll show you what I’m really made of. Come on, fuck me.

I had to compromise; besides in that moment I knew I was reaching the highest point in my sexual life and I really wanted to fuck Rudy in the ass. He was wagging it, luring me into piercing him and finally I entered his crack with my cock.

-Deeper, Ernest, open me up for you. If you want me to constantly fuck you, you’ll also constantly fuck me. We won’t be cowards after now. Real courage is needed to know that we desire having father and son sex every day. Hope you’re enjoying my ass, Ernest.

-I really am, Rudy. Oh what a sexy boy you are!

-Now you’re sure you also want to fuck me daily, isn’t it?

-I do want, my son. With both our courage, we can have a lot of fun now –he never asked me to stop and my dick was still entering his perfect ass more and more. I would know the following day that it had hurt him, but he never protested for he was determined to take our incestuous relationship as far as I wanted to take it. Finally after ten wonderful minutes fucking Rudy that first time, all the time my fucking accompanied by kisses, almost love kisses, and my hands running down everything in Rudy’s perfect body, I shot an enormous amount of jizz in his asshole.

And as soon as I took my cock out of his ass, my eyes crying due to sweetness of what we’d just done, he told me.

-Ok, Ernest, get on all fours; I’ll fuck you again.

-Yeah –he shouted when his dick was once again up my butt-, I told you I want this courageous ass.

-So this courageous ass will always be for the most courageous of boys, whose name is Rudy Soul. Never again hide me your lust and fuck Ernest as often as you fucking desire. Your dick’s also a courageous dick, daring to pierce your father’s ass but you must know that after today, your father will always be unable to hide his strong lust precisely for this dick, for this sexy son I’m lucky to have. I’m still shuddering at the thought that I’ve just fucked you. Now we’ll be constantly fucking each other as far as you never get tired of having sex with your father.

-How can I ever repent of entering this sexy man? –he told me with his dick increasingly deeper and now a bit forcefully as I had asked him, for I had told him to do it every day and many times, please and the way he preferred to do it. If his cock had not yet conquered my whole ass, he should enter it now as deep as he wanted, as if clearly saying: I’m marking this ass as Rudy Soul’s belonging. He went on talking.

-Not only would I never repent of fucking my courageous father, but I’ll always gladly submit my ass to you too and repeatedly suck your tasty cock, which I’ll sure be doing again soon, so good a taste to enjoy just once a day. No, I must constantly savour it. But now I’m cumming again, Ernest.

And again I felt his hot flow of male pleasure. My ass now wanted to always be bathed in that river.

-Now we can eat.

We ate and looked at each other lecherously. I knew what I also wanted to do later for he deserved every fun I could give him. Finally we ate lunch and I made coffee. What a hot day, both of us totally nude and hard all the time! Once I served coffee, before he’d had any time to react, I quickly took his dick into my mouth.

-Now I’ll also suck your cock, Rudy, so that father and son have done everything with each other.

-You also sure about this, Ernest?

-Let’s first show each other what we’re learning today, Rudy, and it’s that there cannot be a greater lust than the one we’re feeling for each other right now. After now, let no one bother us with their rules: nothing can be sweeter than the lust father and son are feeling for each other right now. At least I’m sure no girl after now can make me hornier than you.

-And no girl can be hotter than you dad, especially in that sweat and that grease. Such a discovery I’ve done today. And oh, how you’re moving your tongue right now. That must mean you’re enjoying.

-So much that I don’t know why the fuck I haven’t sucked a cock so far. But it’s true I never had any suspicion that I could be attracted to a boy. Ernest now is totally gay, my son, hope you like me just the same.

-I’m as gay as you; your smell and tastes had convinced me. But we’ve shown each other today that we’re brave and now we’ll have that same courage to accept it’s us that we need, our dicks, asses, kisses, smells and tastes, our naked bodies and always with our heads held high. I have to cum now, Ernest, hope you wanna drink it.

-Of course I’ll drink it –but I was still talking when I had a first taste of real manhood in my mouth, the spunk of a boy who had shown me his virility today and after now that’s what I needed: masculinity, being closer each day for after now all I needed was Rudy.

After cumming in my mouth, we were voraciously kissing for minutes.

The rest of that day we spent naked and continuously having sex with each other. I only had my shower prior to going to bed for he wanted me sweaty all day. We fucked each other two more times and even gave each other a new blowjob. Unfortunately still the thought of sleeping together hadn’t crossed his mind and I really desired it but said nothing. That night in bed I had to empty myself masturbating over him: oh, Rudy, let us always continue with this newly discovered fun.

The sun had several more hours left before setting, but Nate took no chances; the deeper he could escape into the woods, the better for him — and the safer for everyone else. He stopped and looked around, listening closely for any sounds but heard nothing, not even a bird or a squirrel in the forest.

He walked down into a small valley where stood several thick trees and their dense network of leaves. Soft, dense mosses covered the ground, and three pitcher plants grew by a small spring. Otherwise, the covered clearing was empty of any other living thing.

Good, Nate thought to himself. Can’t risk hurting anyone. He began to peel off his sweat- drenched jacket and shirt. The air in the vale was cool, making his nipples tight the fur on his chest and eight-pack stand up, but he didn’t want to destroy his clothes during his transformation; he couldn’t just walk back into the city nude again. Nate pulled off his jeans and jock too, to set them neatly in in a folded pile. He looked at the jock, thinking of the last time he’d worn it: three days ago when he’d met those two travelers at a bar. Nate began to think of the things they’d done in the back alley, the noises they made and the people watching them from the upstairs windows while they —

Nate shook his head and walked away, towards the spring. His dick was getting hard thinking about fucking and getting fucked. True, he hadn’t cum since that night, and his testicles were needy, but if he started jerking off now the desire and hormone rush could set off his transformation early, perhaps as soon as the full moon crested the horizon before the sun fully set. And he knew that the longer he was in wolf form, the further afield he could go and the more damage he could do.

He threw himself down on the moss with his back against a tree, sighing, knowing that the sun still had plenty of time to go down. Nate looked at the water and the pitcher plants to distract himself from the temptation to jack off. He didn’t know what kinds of trees were around him, or what type of pitcher plant was growing just a couple feet away. He’d seen plants in the same family before, but not ones like these. These had huge purple flowers growing at ground level, and from three blooms sprouted green bulbs the size of basketballs; a vine rose from the end of the closest giant bulb and ended in the pitcher: a massive green tube the length of Nate’s

forearm with a glossy, ruby-red opening covered by a leaf. Nate could smell a fragrance coming from the pitcher, even with the leaf sealing it.

He was planning to tell Ceth or someone about it once getting back to town, when he began to doze off. He didn’t fight the sleepiness either; napping was good, since it made the transformation feel like some hazy, half-forgotten, horrible dream.

Nate was dreaming that a thick, heavy ass drenched in lube was hovering over his hard cock, slowly coming closer to his glans. He wanted to see it press onto his dick and pump his load out, but his subconscious fear of turning too soon made him jolt awake.

As his eyes opened, Nate smelled that sweet scent from before, but now it was powerful. He looked ahead and saw the closest pitcher plant’s lid was open, and inside was a shiny, viscous liquid sloshing gently as the red-lipped opening came closer and closer to his —

Nate leapt up and tried to run, but he felt his wrists and ankles restrained. All he could do was stand up and look at the vines that had tied him back to the trunk. His head snapped back to the pitcher plant; the tentacle growing from the bulb slowly stretched up and closer, inching it’s way to his naked loins.

Nate jerked against the vines, but they were too densely layered on his ankles and wrists to pull away. He grunted, thrashed, and started to sweat, but his struggling was useless. The pitcher was inches away now, and Nate realized with horror that the drenched opening of the carnivorous plant was indeed aiming straight for his cock head.

“No, wait, fuck NO!” he yelled, trying to pull back from it. He could imagine the digestive juices pooled inside that tube working on his heavy dick, dissolving it for plant food. “W-wait, NO! Fuck it, someone, HELP!” No one was close enough to hear, much less help, and he knew it. “Fuck,” he muttered, tensing all his muscles to fight as hard as he could, to keep his twenty-one centimeters of thick, flaccid cock intact for as long as possible.

He stared down, unable to look away as the red mouth of the plant slowly reached his soft dick. As soon as it touched his foreskin, the vine snapped forward, engulfing his whole piece. Nate could hear the plant juices splashing inside, and he could feel his dick getting drowned in them. The pitcher plant opening closed tightly on the base of his cock, keeping every drop of its

chemical trapped inside, bathing his meat. He could watch in panic through it’s semi-translucent walls.

Nate grit his teeth and clenched his eyes tight, preparing for the tingling and burning of plant acid he knew was coming to liquify his cock. Seconds passed, and he opened his eyes to stare at the squishy prison around his manhood. The viscous fluid inside wasn’t burning. He wondered, perhaps, if it was numbing his cock. Of course, so prey won’t struggle as much, was his grim thought.

Then, after a gasp, Nate let out a low groan. The juices felt warm, not burning; and instead of pain, it felt — good. Really good. Like liquified silk on his dick. He sensed his cock relaxing, loosening. It felt like it had been dipped into a jar of warm massage oil, soaking his dick and working its way through his skin and into his body.

“No!” he shouted, shaking his head and trying to focus. The juices indeed felt like they were affecting his cock; they might still be trying to dissolve his dick, but they certainly were absorbing into his sensitive skin. “The fuck is this!?” He tried again to pull his hips back, even though the sensation was increasingly pleasurable. His balls felt warm and relaxed now too, and hung low as if he were in a warm bath. The blood flowing through his cock pumped harder, and as it coursed through his body, he could feel his arousal hormones release. His breathing grew heavier, like when seeing a hot ass or cock he wanted to pounce on. His cock was growing from his flaccid length to its full, girthy thirty-one centimeters.

Nate threw his head back, “Stop, you bastard!” He pulled again, but this time the plant pulled back. Nate groaned as it did so, undulating its wet, succulent walls on his cock like a snake swallowing prey. The attached vine pulled back, dragging Nate’s hips forwards from the tree trunk.

“Ufff, fuck….” His aroused brain was tempted to just think about the best sex experiences of his life, to just enjoy the pulsing, pulling, sucking, warm, chemical pleasure in his dick. “Fuck… grrr, gah!!” he yelled, trying to pull away.

The plant kept sucking harder, like a vacuum, and the walls of the pitcher kept oozing fresh slime, keeping his dick lubricated. Nate was no longer afraid of losing his cock; he could

feel and see every vein standing out hard from his intense erection. His foreskin was stretched out revealing his full glans, where the plant chemical soaked most easily into his body.

Nate could feel his balls filling with cum; they hung heavy and started to hurt, as if he had been tied down and edged for hours by an expert. His body wanted to cum; all his animal instincts begged for it. But glaring at the insistent, hungry plant, Nate knew something was wrong, and he struggled to resist the urge to cum.

But the pitcher sucked harder, pulsed faster. Soft, supple, insatiable milking kept working his cock. Sweat poured off Nate’s pecs and ran down his abs, ass, and legs. His whole body was in heat, forced against his will into a lustful frenzy.

“No, wait!” he yelled, but he felt in his groin that it was too late. His balls tensed, ready to submit. Nate’s mouth opened wide as he yelled, half protesting and half intoxicated with pleasure. He groaned and roared as thick ropes of cum shot from his cock. He gasped with each of the eight spurts of seed, and, panting, he watched the cum sucked down through the vine into the bulb at the plant’s base, where it sat in a pool like —

No, fuck no!

Where it sat like milk in a collection tank.

The pitcher kept drawing on his meat with no slowing. After cumming, Nate’s cock was too sensitive, and the stimulation made him yell and writhe. The poison, however, kept his cock hard, and within minutes his balls were on the threshold of exploding again. He could feel them hanging low and full.

Nate gasped. Another load of cum blasted from his cock, just as much as before. “Shit, no! Please!” he begged, but the plant kept sucking.

I’ll run out of cum soon, at this fucking rate, he thought. Then what?

He fought to hold onto his loads, but four more were extracted. His body tingled all over with arousal; his cock was purple from being so hard; his balls kept filling with cum. Nate felt exhausted, and as he looked again at the bulb he saw how it had swollen even larger to accommodate the mass of jizz milked from his body. There was much more cum than he could possibly have churned out in a day, much less the three hours he’d been worked on by the pitcher.

He realized with renewed panic that his exhaustion wasn’t just from cumming. Whatever chemical was pulsing through his veins, his balls, and his cock — it was taking more than his natural cum volume. It was robbing his energy and strength, his life force, using his seed for hell- knew-what. He could feel throughout his body the sense of being drained.

Nate looked up at the sky through the trees, at last remembering the moon. It was his only chance of getting free: to survive as long as he could and hope to change before….

Nate looked at the plant. “Get the hell off me,” he growled, trying to rally what strength he had left to keep from cumming more of his life away. He succeeded, for a while, lasting longer than he had yet.

In response to the lack of fresh cum, the plant secreted more fluid and slurped its way down to his balls before sucking them inside the pitcher. The pressure hurt Nate for a moment, then he groaned louder, with both anger and increased pleasure. He could see his hard cock and balls through the stretched walls of the pitcher, its tube barely long enough to contain his meat and massive eggs. The poison was now going straight to the source of his cum, and Nate could almost see the testicles swelling with more of his juice — more of his essence.

“Uh, fuck… oh, ffffuck,” he moaned. His head swam, and he tried hard to cling to the determination not to cum. But the chemical seeping thoughout his blood and brain forced him to think of every massive cumshot he’d ever erupted, made him remember the pleasure of filling every hole he’d drenched.

Nate was groaning, and his mouth began to drool a little down his scruff. His cock was in pure bliss. He groared loudly as the largest load yet — fourteen heavy spurts — left his body.

Shaking and panting, Nate looked up, begging for the moon to rise soon and desperate to know how long he had to keep trying to survive. Then, he gasped one more time, very faintly; he saw the moon’s bright edge already risen a few degrees in the dusk sky.

Why am I not turning!?

He looked at the pitcher in the pale light, then at the bulb. His head was too tired to raise again, and his body felt too good to struggle any more.

His thoughts came sluggishly. Have I … lost too much … energy? Nate groaned again. Six more ropes of gooey cum left his cock.

Shit … fuck … no. … … fuck, it feels so good.

He moaned and surrendered more seed. Nate could barely keep his eyes open as he glanced at the bulb one more time; it was almost bursting with liters of cum. “Feels — too good,” he muttered, giving up more of himself.

Nate came again, again, and several more times, even as his eyes closed. He felt a faint tingling in his hands, spine, and feet, then lost consciousness.

The sun was shining yellow and warm. The heat of it on his skin woke Nate. He groaned, feeling sore all over, which was normal after a full moon; but he also felt sore inside his body, especially in his cock and balls.

Nate slowly opened his eyes, feeling as if his whole body had sunk to the bottom of a lake. Carefully he pushed himself up, weak despite the hugeness of his triceps and biceps. Once he could sit up he looked around. Slash marks gouged a few trees, the grass around him lay shredded and scattered, and he smelled of sweat and wet dog. Yep, another full moon. His memories crawled back to his consciousness until, with a sharp turn of his aching head, Nate looked behind him.

Dozens of yards away stood the entrance to the vale. The tree where he was bound leaned to the side, half of its trunk ripped away. The pitcher that milked him — nearly to death — lay crushed. Nate smiled, but then he looked at the bulb. The reservoir of his cum, it seemed, was empty; however, all around the one crushed pitcher plant grew ten more, newly sprung up while he was unconscious, lying in wait for more unwary wanderers and their seed.

I started from his feet, working my way up. My thumbs kneaded into the ball of his right foot, then down toward the heel. I moved to the ankle, then the top, even massaging each toe. 

His name was Billy, and he was in his late 50’s, a bit stocky, moderately hairy, thinning curly brown hair on his head. 

I moved to his left foot and gave it the same treatment, adding a little oil to my hands. 

This was my second visit with Billy, the first happening about a month earlier. Just a straight-forward massage is what he wanted. He had been a bit shy that first time, using a towel to cover his ample midsection and give his genitals some privacy. Nothing unusual there — about half my clients cover themselves. This time, though, Billy did not use the towel. He was laying face-down, both his back and buttocks lightly feathered with body hair. 

I moved up to his calf, oiling up the right one before rubbing it gently at first before adding some depth. He moaned. 

Billy had mentioned the small of his back had been bothering him, so I would need to spend a little extra time on that. 

I’m good at massage therapy, and charge for it. I’ve seen others go as low as $75 — or even $50 an hour. I don’t do discounts. $250, no time limit. But it rarely surpasses two hours. 

I moved around the table, going from Billy’s left calf to the back of his left thigh. The oil matted the hair on his legs as I rubbed the inside. I let my hand venture from his knee up between his legs, and back down. 

I am in decent shape. I visit the gym a few times a week, but I’m not interested in bulking up. I don’t have washboard abs, but my belly is flat, and my chest has just enough definition to fill out my tight sleeveless shirt. I was also wearing gray sweatpants that were a size too small, adding a little to my bulge. My boxer briefs helped lift my package. 

The reason I mention this is sometimes the client is willing to pay a little more for me to wear a little less. Typically, I don’t go full nude, but strip to my briefs for an extra $100. $250 for the full monty is something few are willing to fork over . . . though there have been a couple of women who were up for that. 

I have no tattoos, shave most of my body hair (except my head) and I have a small patch of pubic hair just over my penis so I don’t look like I’m in elementary school. Generally, touching me is not allowed, although there have been exceptions. 

I always interview the client to know what medical issues they may have, areas of their body that are tender or painful, and I tell them that I don’t touch genitals. But I do. It might be considered prostitution, so I say what I legally need to say, and then do whatever the clients wants. For a fee, of course. 

I always ask my female clients if their breasts are off limits or not. Usually, they’re okay with gentle, non-sexual touching. And sometimes it turns sexual. 

I need to be flexible with my schedule since some people are only available on Sunday nights or early Thursday morning. So, there are times I work seven days a week, and other periods where I don’t have a session for two weeks. 

“Would you like me to work on your glutes?” That’s a nice way of saying “Can I rub your butt?” 

“Yes,” Billy said. 

I always ask so there’s little or no confusion where the boundaries are. To some people, butts are sexual. For others, they’re not. 

I start by gently rubbing in oil on each cheek, one at a time. His ass is meaty, and as I work with a little more intensity, I can sense him relaxing even more. My fingers slide down between his thighs, first the left, then the right. His large scrotum lay on the table, and my fingers brush it as I work the area between his thighs and buttocks. I even allow my fingers to rub gently over his anus for a few moments before moving on. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like he moaned a little when my fingers slid over his hole. 

Soon, I’m working on the area between his ass and small of the back. I work on it somewhat lightly at first to make sure I’m not hurting him before I add more pressure. 

I’m taking my time since he’s the only client for the day. He has some gentle light jazz music playing in the background. 

His home is on a typical suburban street, with a red, late model pickup in the driveway. Last time I was there, he wanted to talk before we got down to business, said he wanted to get to know me before he let me touch his body. And you know what? I understood. So we sat at the dining room table, drinking bourbon. I could tell he was nervous. I understood that too, having a strange man in your house who will soon rub his naked body. 

He said he was married, had a daughter away at college. He ran a construction company and was pretty successful. I think he was being modest, but that’s okay. When we finished our drinks, he went to his bedroom while I went to what he called his game room and finished setting up my stuff. The room had old-time movie posters on the walls, along with a pool table, a wet bar and a big, big, big screen TV. There was plenty of room for my table. 

For the first visit, he came in wearing a big white towel that never left his waist. He managed to climb onto the table while keeping himself covered. This time he just walked in fully naked and got on the table. 

I spent a little extra time working on the small of his back, the sides, then moving to the middle, working along the spine. I spent several minutes massaging his shoulders, one at a time, moving around the end of the table as needed. I even rubbed the back of his neck and scalp — but without the oil. 

“Okay, are you ready for the other side?” I asked as I went to the wet bar sink to wash my hands. Sure, they’ll only get oiled up again, but it felt good starting somewhat fresh. I dried my hands on a towel as Billy rolled onto his back. 

I would do the same thing as before, starting with the feet and working up. 

I grabbed the bottle of oil, and for the first time took in my client’s completely naked body. While he was somewhat stocky and flabby — a kind of cross between sort of overweight and fat — I was surprised to see Billy had a very big penis and equally super-sized balls. 

I made no comment, and averted my eyes so it didn’t seem like I was gawking. But it was very obvious Billy was quite excited as his penis appeared to be fully erect, pointing up his torso. It was long enough that the head covered his belly button. 

Over the next several minutes, I concentrated on his feet, then shins, then thighs. I worked each hip, careful not to touch his genitals. I moved up to his lower abdomen. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he said. 

I glanced at his face. He had his eyes closed. 

“Sure,” I said. 

“Would you be able to help me with my little problem there?” 

“You mean your erection?” 

“Yes.” 

The way I work is when a new client contacts me, I outline what I will and won’t do, and I am always clear that I don’t do anything sexually. That way I’m not considered a prostitute, even if I help with any “sexual issues” they may have. I send them an invoice that they have to pay by credit card before I even show up. If they want more that wasn’t covered in that charge, I send them another bill after. I also do a background check to make sure they’re on the up-and- up and not some over-the-edge weirdo. 

“Cash,” he said. “How much?” 

I smile. “I’ll therapeutically massage your scrotum at no additional charge. Maybe that will help reduce the . . . the swelling you’re experiencing.” 

“I doubt it. How much for something to relieve the stiffness?” 

“Hands only?” 

“Sure.” 

“Two-fifty.” 

“How about three even? I only have hundreds, unless you can make change.” 

“Okay, three.” 

“And how much for something more than hands?” 

“I haven’t done that,” I said. A little fib. 

“Would you consider it?” 

I put some oil in the palm of my hand and then placed it on his scrotum, rubbing gently. He had spent the time shaving his scrotum as it was smooth and hairless. 

“Let’s go a step at a time,” I said, and Billy moaned as my fingers rubbed his balls. “By the way,” I added, “I’ll be glad to take care of any shaving you may need in the future. I know how difficult that can be by yourself.” 

His sack hung low and each nut seemed to be about the size of a golf ball, maybe a little bigger. There was a lot to work with. 

I watched his long, thick dick twitch and throb without any assistance from either of us. It bounced slightly with the beat of his heart. 

I wondered if my ball-rubbing would be enough to do the trick and release his pent-up fluids without me touching his dick. I’ve rubbed the balls of quite a few different men, and a couple of times, that alone is enough to trigger ejaculation. Sometimes, the client strokes his penis to climax without my assistance. 

Scrotum massage is actually therapeutic and doesn’t have to be necessarily sexual . . . but it usually is. 

Billy kept a hands-off approach. 

I picked up the oil bottle and dripped a line of it up the underside of his shaft. His penis was very thick, and it almost looked muscular with the underside structure very well-defined. 

If I were to guess, I’d estimate Billy’s erect penis was 9 inches long, circumcised and I could see a drop of pre-ejaculation seminal fluid oozing out of the tip. 

I rubbed the oil into the skin of the shaft, and Billy immediately let out a loud moan. I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft and slid my hand up toward the head. I avoided actually touching the glans as I knew how sensitive it would be. After all, I don’t think he wanted to ejaculate within a few seconds of me touching him. I’m sure he wanted his $300 worth.

I kept to rubbing, sticking to his shaft, which was more than enough. I lifted his cock so it pointed straight up, and I decided it was, indeed, the largest penis I had ever seen in person. 

I stroked his shaft firmly and smoothly, from the base to almost the head. I used my other hand to continue rubbing his balls. 

Billy was moaning and his legs squirmed. 

I know he wanted me to orally finish him off, but I didn’t really want to have the taste of oil — and semen — in my mouth if he were to unload. 

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh . . .” Billy said, and I knew he was close. 

“Are you ready?” I asked. 

He took a deep breath. “Are you?” he said as my hand slid up his penis, all the way to the thick head, rubbing oil over the knob. I was using both hands up and down the full length of his large cock. 

“Ready when you are,” I said. 

And with that, he began to cum. 

The first burst surprised me as it shot straight up into the air, literally going higher than my head. I’m not sure where it landed as the second eruption occurred, just as high and powerful. I kept working his penis, up and down, up and down as stream after stream of semen spurted from his cock. I mentally counted eight, nine, ten full shots, followed by five or six more of lower velocity and volume. 

As the convulsions of his dick subsided, I saw semen seemingly everywhere — his chest, his belly, all over my hand gripping his cock, and even a couple of streams running down his ball sack. 

He was breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. Then he raised his head to look at me and smiled. His fingers found their way to my crotch, rubbing gently. 

“I’m okay,” I said as his fingers felt my bulge. 

“I’ve never touched a man before,” he said. “I would really like to.” He paused. “An extra hundred?” 

I didn’t say anything. 

A few moments later, those fingers were slipping into the waistband of my sweats. 

I grabbed a towel and began wiping the oil and semen off my hands as his hand felt me up. 

“Okay,” I said. I pulled down my sweats a little and pulled my flaccid cock and my balls out over the waistband. 

He rubbed my sack. My balls are decent sized and hang nicely. 

“Ooohhh, smooth,” he said. 

“Just like yours,” I said as he took the right nut between a thumb and finger. 

“I’ve never touched another man before,” he said. 

I stood there, cock and balls hanging out of my pants while Billy gently rubbed them. I noticed his cock had started to go soft, but didn’t really get smaller. It just kind of relaxed to one side. 

I looked down, watching Billy’s hand slide over my penis, and I could feel it start to react. Soon, my cock was fully erect, and Billy wrapped his fingers around it and began jerking me off. I gently moved my hips back and forth in tandem with his stroking, like I was fucking his hand. 

I have a good control over my orgasms, and can last as long as I want, but decided Billy didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon jerking me. So I started moaning to warn him about what’s going to happen. 

He just kept smoothly stroking the length of my dick until it began to ejaculate, the first couple of squirts landing on Billy’s torso. The others popped out in diminishing succession. I have to say it was quite erotic to watch myself cum while another man held my dick. 

Fortunately, I brought enough towels. 

I declined Billy’s offer to use his shower to rinse off the massage oils and semen – I declined because it was mostly on him – but he paid me the “extra services” cash, and disappeared into his bedroom.

I tucked my cock and balls back into my pants before breaking down the table and packing my stuff.

Something told me Billy would be a regular client.

My first time cruising happened by accident and it took two trips to this place because I came the first time just from excitement and in my shorts.

I had heard of cruising and even though I’d had a few bi experiences in my past I’d never gotten to explore this. Where I live there isn’t an area to even try this. And the nearest one might have been hours away but then there was no way to find out where a place might be.

My job sent me to a place to open a new site. I was going to be there for a while, so they rented me a place to stay. I’d spend all week there and even some weekends.

One evening after work I was restless. It was summer and the days were long. I needed to get out of the house and relax so I went to a park that was close to my house. There was nobody there, so I sat under a pavilion alone on a picnic table.

Honestly, when I decided to go to a park, I wasn’t horny and cruising wasn’t on my mind, I just had to get out of the house. But my mind began wondering and I started thinking of just leaning back and jacking off. I’d never done anything like this before. I turned around leaning back on the table. I got hard quickly and just as I was about ready to play with myself a car pulled in. I quickly turned around putting my legs under the table and tried to think normal so my dick wouldn’t show.

The car parked just a few yards away facing me. I could see a man sitting in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t looking at me, he was looking down like he was reading or something. He sat there for several minutes. I tried to hide the fact I was looking at him. Occasionally he’d look up and I’d look down or something. Then I put my head down but only enough to make it look like I was looking down and not at him. I noticed his arm moving. It suddenly occurred to me he might be playing with his dick. Even though I wasn’t sure if he was playing with himself the thought made me crazy horny and I instantly got hard.

I became so horny. I purposely looked up and he was looking right at me, and he wasn’t trying to hide the fact his arm was moving. There was no doubt he was jacking off. Before I could even get my hand on mine, I started cuming. I came so much it soaked through my underwear and shorts. About then another car pulled in and he left. I had to drive home with my cum running all over my balls and ass.

The next day at work all I could think of was getting to the park again and hoping he came back. The day went on forever. After work I quickly got ready. But this time I wore these super thin shorts and no underwear. I wanted to let my dick show and be able to get to easily.

Again when I got there nobody was there. I parked just like before and sat at the same pavilion and table. For nearly an hour nobody came to the park. I was so hard and the precum had made me just as soaked as I was yesterday after cuming. I was trying my best to not cum. I don’t think I’ve ever been so horny and hard. I was so horny my normal reserved and clear thinking wasn’t there. I began walking around under the pavilion and started humping the corners of the tables. I had just sat down when a car pulled in. It wasn’t the one from yesterday. It parked near me but the passenger side was facing me.

After a few minutes, this man got out and began walking towards the bathrooms. They were just a few yards away. As he walked, he grabbed his crotch briefly. He disappeared through the door of the men’s bathroom.

While I waited for him to come out I pulled one leg of my shorts up and let my hard dick stick out. I moved around and got into a position so he would see it as he walked to his car. After several minutes he didn’t come out. I’d used this bathroom before and knew it only had one urinal and sink. My curiosity took over so I walked to the bathroom. The door was broken so it wasn’t closed. I peeked in and I saw him with shorts all the way to his ankles and he was facing the toilet and jacking off. He looked back and I could see that he had a huge dick and a very sexy bubble ass.

I didn’t know what to do so I pretended to wash my hands at the sink. He turned around and began walking over to me with his dick in his hand. He walked up behind me and pressed his hard dick against my ass. He held my hips and began humping and grinding on my ass. I put my hands on the sink and let him hump and grind my ass. I could feel my precum all over my legs.

He stepped back and yanked my shorts down. I bent over and shoved my ass back. He came prepared with lube and he lube me up and began slowly sliding his big dick in me. The pain was intense but the situation and pleasure I was feeling were much stronger. I barely whimpered.  And while it was sliding in me I came. I shot cum everywhere because as I started cuming he began fucking me hard. He didn’t last long either and I could feel him shooting his cum deep inside me.

He pulled out quickly and left and we never said a word to each other. As I walked back to my car, I was still semi-hard, and I could feel his cum leaking out of my ass. I love cruising now.

Author’s Note:  As with “A Hot Tub Story,” everything that follows is 100% true based on my memories.  Nothing has been added, and there is no hyperbole or exaggeration.  Only the names have been changed to protect a straight guy who might rather forget that this ever happened.  I did not forget, though.

---

It was mid-August, 1993, at my college in Northeastern Ohio.  I was 19 years old and had already been there for a solid week as a member of the marching band to learn music and drills for the half-time show of the home football games.  It would still be another week before classes started.  That late afternoon had been still, hot, and humid – the kind of heavy, oppressive heat where it feels difficult to breathe.  I had just spent the past three hours in the sun on the practice field playing the same 40 bars of music over and over while moving in formation with the rest of the band.

I was living in the slightly-off-campus “honors house” owned by the college. It was an old two-story residential home that had been purchased by the school at some point and converted into student housing.  Both floors had been remodeled into eight dorm rooms – three on the first floor and five on the second.  There was also a small lobby area with a television, couch, and chair, though it was not directly adjacent to the doors used for entry.

As I entered the building, I heard an unfamiliar voice from the lobby, mildly cursing.  I had lived in the “honors house” the previous year and would have recognized the voice if it had been any of the returning students, so I deduced that this must be an incoming Freshman.  Though tired, sweaty, and undoubtedly reeking from the summer afternoon marching in the sun, I decided to be friendly.  I detoured from the stairs leading up to the second floor to say hello.

I rounded the corner to see who was in the lobby.  Sitting on the couch was a solitary figure staring at the television with a frustrated look on his face.  He was slightly husky with a fair complexion and sandy blonde hair.  He wore a green button-down shirt with short sleeves and blue shorts.  Freckles dotted his arms, and he was holding the television’s remote control clenched in his right hand, jabbing at it with his left index finger.

“Problems?” I asked.

The Freshman jumped, obviously startled.  His pale blue eyes scanned quickly to find the source of the voice before his posture softened.  “This piece of shit isn’t working,” he said.  Something about the slightly hesitant way he said “shit” made me think that he did not swear much, if at all, and he was using his first day on campus to rebel a little from his parent’s rules.

“It might be the batteries,” I replied.  “It’s probably the same ones from last semester.”

“Oh,” he said blinking.  The look on his face suggested that he had hadn’t considered such a simple possibility.

“You living here?” I asked.

“Yeah.  I moved in today.”

“Then tell the RA about the remote when you see him,” I instructed, “and he can get fresh batteries.  If that’s not the problem, he’ll know what to do next.  Until then, you’ll have to get up and push the buttons on the TV yourself”

“O.K.,” said the blonde sheepishly.  “Do you live here, too?”

“Yeah.  Second floor.  The door right at the top of the stairs.”

His eyes lit up a little.  “I’m next door to you.”  He stood up.  “Jim.  Jim Ogee.”  He paused.  “Like the fabric.”

I blinked.  I had no idea what he was talking about.  “Nathan McGee,” I offered.  “Look, I need to get cleaned up a little, then I’m heading to the cafeteria to get some food.”

“Oh,” said Jim, slightly confused.  “O.K.”

Figuring he was new to the campus, I asked, “Do you know where the cafeteria is?”

He hesitated slightly before he replied,“I think so.”

I didn’t believe for an instant that he knew how to get to the cafeteria from here.  “Have you eaten?” I asked.

“No.”

“Give me a couple of minutes, and you can come with me.”

His face brightened a bit.  “Yeah.  That sounds good.”

Over the next several days, we got to know each other a bit in the late afternoons after my marching band practice.  Where I had come to the college from a tiny far-away town in a different region of the country, he was from an adjacent county.  We both knew a little bit of American Sign Language, though he knew more than I did.  We shared some interests, but not a lot, and our birthdays were only a few days apart.  As we were the only people who had moved into the “honors house” this early due to our school commitments, we would usually spend time together when we were both free, becoming friends rather quickly.

I had known I was gay from a very young age.  In Kindergarten, I was firmly convinced that I was going to marry a boy in my class.  (Spoiler alert:  I did not.)  At one point in middle school, I had spent time every day for about a month staring into the bathroom mirror, saying to myself out loud “You’re gay.  Now what are you going to do with that?”  

I had never had any mutual sexual experience with a man to that point, either.  Sure, I had sucked a couple of cocks in while I was in high school (which I really enjoyed), but nothing had ever been reciprocated.  I had never even kissed a man before, though I had kissed young women a few times and wondered “what’s the point of that?”

I had not yet come out of the proverbial closet to anyone.  I had considered doing it in my first year of college, but the prevailing anti-gay sentiment when I arrived made me decide not to do that.  I was definitely tired of hiding his part of myself from everyone who thought they knew me, but I had not yet gotten up the courage to actually say the words to anyone but myself.

Jim was the first person I came out to.  We were in the lobby of the “honors house,” with him sitting on the couch and me on the chair.  Not knowing how he would react, I couldn’t bring myself to actually say it.  I resorted to Sign Language.  I wasn’t even sure he was looking at me when I did it.  I tapped my chest and then tapped the sign for the letter “g” to my chin.  “I’m gay.”

Jim’s head jerked around and looked at me for a moment.  He appeared to be considering.  He hesitantly raised one hand and tapped his forehead twice.  “I know.”  He then placed one hand flat with the palm up in front of him and touched it at a ninety-degree angle with his other open-palmed hand.  He quickly brought the top hand up in a short movement.  “It’s all right.”

Our friendship continued.  While he now knew that I was gay, he was resolutely straight.  He was seeing a girl that had gone to his high school and was reasonably serious about that relationship.  We didn’t really talk about the fact that I was now a slightly-open homosexual, but it felt like it would have been O.K. to do so if I had wanted to.  While my sexuality was acknowledged, we did not discuss it.

After the other students arrived on campus, I’d visit him and his roommate in their room to hang out, and he would come to mine.  He respected my privacy and did not reveal my secret to others, but I slowly opened up to a few other select people – though not to anyone in the “honors house.”  A few weeks passed.

One evening, he was in my room, complaining about various aspects of his life, as friends sometimes do to each other.  I offered support, encouragement, and suggestions for a full hour.  He continued to gripe, growing slightly agitated, and my patience began to wear thin. I had an assignment to complete for one of my classes, and I couldn’t work on it with him there on my bed, looking at the ceiling, and talking constantly.  

“Jim,” I finally said, “you know I’m gay.  If you don’t stop complaining, I’m going come over there and kiss you.”  Abruptly, he changed the subject to something more pleasant.  After a few minutes, he left my room.

I smiled to myself like I had made an important discovery.  It had been a stone-cold bluff on my end, but I had figured out how to get him out of my dorm room if I wanted to.  I had no intention of following through with the threat.  While Jim was pleasant-looking and I generally enjoyed his company, it would have felt like some kind of violation if I had just walked across the room and kissed him.

About a week later, he was in my room again.  He was also complaining again, this time about events when he was in high school.  He was sitting on the floor, and I was on my bed.   I only gave him about fifteen minutes this time.  “Jim, if you don’t stop complaining about this, I’m going to kiss you.”

He looked up at me with a smirk.  I could see him deciding that I was not going to do it no matter what I said.  He continued talking about things done two years ago by people I had never met.  “Jim,” I warned, “you know what’s going to happen if you keep this up.”

He almost seemed to take this as a dare.  There was more talk about the same people and the same topic.   I got off the bed and sat next to him on the floor, my face only a few inches from him.  “Jim,” I said one more time, warningly.

Inwardly, my mind was running wild.  I was not sure I was going to have the courage to carry out my threat.  If I didn’t follow through, though, I could never use this ploy again. This was my straight friend, but he was also the one pushing the boundary I had set.  He had to deal with the consequences, right?  My thoughts circled around the same “do I or don’t I” progression.  

Jim looked me square in the eye and started talking about the same people and events again.  I took a breath, closed my eyes, and moved in.  I lightly brushed my lips against his, lingering only for a couple of seconds before I slowly pulled away.  Our lips were slightly dry, and they stuck to each other ever so slightly as I moved my head back from his.  My top lip released first, and then the bottom.  “My first kiss!” I exulted internally.

I opened my eyes and released a shuddering breath.  Whereas my limited experience of a few kisses with girls had been very “meh,” this kiss was not.  While light, brief, and gentle, it was emotionally intense for me.  I could feel my blood surging and my heart began to pound a little.  I suddenly realized what all the fuss was about, and I wanted more.

Jim looked at me for a moment, looking slightly confused.  It looked like he didn’t comprehend what had just happened.  He stuttered for a moment before continuing this story about people I had never met doing things I didn’t care about.

A favorite saying of my grandmother’s – “In for a penny, in for a pound” – flashed through my mind.  I inwardly shrugged, figuring I had already done this once and he hadn’t reacted badly to it.  I had warned him; the consequences were on his shoulders.  I closed my eyes, leaned in, and pressed my lips more firmly against his, holding them there.  “This time I’m going to shut him up,” I thought to myself.

His lips stiffened, and then they softened.  After a few seconds, they parted. I felt the tip of his tongue lightly touching my lips.  “Holy fuck!” my brain interjected.  “Is this really happening?”  

I responded to his tentative probing by opening my own lips slightly, and his tongue began feeling the inside of my upper lip.  I opened my jaw a little and extended just the tip of my own tongue, and it was immediately welcomed by Jim’s.  He began exploring my mouth more fully while I remained hesitant.

I was not thinking clearly or even coherently at this point.  “Holy fuck,” I repeated to myself over and over, unable to come up with any other way to express what I was feeling.  “Holy fuck, holy fuck.  Kiss.  Jim.  KISS.  Holy.  Fuck!”  

I decided to go for broke.  I reached my hand behind Jim’s head and embraced it, pulling him into me as I opened my mouth more fully and extended my tongue into his mouth.  He made no attempt to pull back, and he reached up with both of his own hands to hold my cheeks briefly before sliding one behind my head and pulling me into an even deeper kiss.

I’m not sure how or when our shirts came off.  We were beginning to sweat in the late summer heat, and my thin tanned chest slid across his paler and wider body a we grasped at each other.  We clutched at each other tightly, running our hands along each other’s backs and through each other’s hair as our teen-aged hormones took control of our bodies.

After a several minutes, Jim pulled away.  I moaned slightly to myself.  “He’s realized what we’re doing,” I thought.  “He’s going to put on his shirt, leave, and he’s not going to be my friend anymore.  I’ve fucked this up.”  I had already started to mourn the loss of the tentative bond that we had until I opened my eyes and looked into his face.

Jim was making no movements to find his shirt or put it back on.  Squinting slightly, he looked at me with his pale blue eyes, breathing heavily.  He leaned forward until his forehead was just barely touching mine with our damp hair plastered against our foreheads.  His eyes stared into mine.  In a breaking voice, he quietly spoke two words.  “Fuck me.”

Had I heard him right?  I was a hopeless virgin, having only just gotten my first real kiss.  Was Jim actually asking what I thought he was asking?  Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part and he had said something else.  I pulled my head back slightly and whispered, “What?”

He took a breath, and seemed to steady himself a little.  In a clearer and more confident voice, he repeated, “Fuck me.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I thought.  “This is happening.”

Jim removed his remaining clothes, laid on his back on the floor, and reached for me.   I fumbled with the button and zipper on my jeans, struggling to open them.    My hormones had my thoughts racing, and I was having trouble making my fingers work properly.  When I had finally opened the front, Jim took my hand and pulled me down on top of him.

Somehow, my jeans and boxer shorts also came off.  I don’t remember removing them, nor do I remember Jim doing it for me.  We rolled around on the floor, bathing each other in our sweat, panting as we kissed each other’s faces and necks.  Our bodies entwined as we slid every part of ourselves against each other.  Hesitantly, I reached down and felt Jim’s smallish but stiff cock.  Both of us inhaled sharply.  “Are you sure about this?” I breathed.

He responded nonverbally, pushing me off of him.  Before my mind could register any disappointment from the sudden loss of physical contact, he turned around and got on his hands and knees, exposing his meaty and hairless ass to me.  It was pale as a piece of paper, with a couple of small blemishes on one side.  Jim took a deep breath, lowered himself to rest on his elbows, and then he leaned backwards towards me.

In my inexperience, I still couldn’t quite believe this was happening.  My mind still reeled from teen-aged lust and how fast things were progressing.  No one had ever even touched me in a sexual way before that evening, but I had been rolling around on the floor naked with this young man that I had met only weeks before.  Hell, I was still excited and thrilled that I had my first real kiss.  

And yet there I was, with my new friend naked and obviously offering himself to me.  I wasn’t sure I knew what to do, much less how to do it.

Jim sensed my hesitation, and he crawled backward until he could feel my body.  He didn’t say a word as he positioned himself so that my cock between his ass cheeks.  I nervously pushed forward slightly, and my dick slid up between the cleavage of his crack and pointed up at me.  Jim gave a slight shudder leaned back, sliding against me. 

I closed my eyes and took a breath, trying to steady myself and calm my thoughts.  I wasn’t sure if he was ready for this (or even if I was), but I was going to try.  The moment just seemed too perfect.  I just hoped that I did it right, because I didn’t know what I was doing.

I put my right hand on the small of Jim’s back and backed away slightly, freeing my cock from his buttcheeks.  I reached up with my left hand and licked my first two fingers generously.  I reached down, feeling.  The skin in the cleft of his ass was smooth and hot to the touch.   As my hand curved underneath him towards his small, tight ballsack, I felt a sudden change in the texture of his skin, almost a roughness.  Jim backed up against my fingers, and I realized with a shiver that this must be his asshole.  This is where he wanted me to go inside him.

As excited as I already was, there were suddenly butterflies in my stomach.  Nervously, I bent my spit-covered middle finger inwards, pushing against his hole, and it slid in to the first knuckle.  Jim inhaled sharply and groaned in a low voice.

“Are you all right?” I asked apprehensively.  I hadn’t even started anything, really, and I was sure I had just done something awful.  

Jim audibly swallowed.  After a moment, he nodded and began pulling forward ever so slightly and then pushing back again.  He was using my middle finger to start to fuck himself.  His insides were so tight and warm that it felt like they were sucking on my finger.  After a couple of minutes, he was taking my finger all the way down to where it joined my hand.

Suddenly, Jim tensed his body and pulled forward.  My finger came out of him, and he rested forward on his elbows, taking quivering breaths.  Before I could say anything, Jim raised his head.  He did not look back at me.  Looking only straight forward, he repeated in a rough and insisting voice.  “Fuck.  Me.”

“OK,” I said to myself.  “This is it.”  I licked my left hand again to use it lubricate my cock, and I tasted Jim’s ass on my finger.  I almost buckled from the mix of pleasure and anticipation.  The taste of Jim on my finger, the smells of our sweat, the sounds of our breathing and groaning, the sight of Jim’s smooth and bare ass, and the touch of his skin against mine combined together and almost overwhelmed my senses.  Wrapping my wet hand around my rod, I moved forward to place the head of my cock against the place where my finger had just been.

Without warning, Jim pushed backwards with some force, and the head of my dick was suddenly inside him.  Jim gave a short cry and froze.  He quivered slightly, and his breath came in ragged gasps.  I placed my hands lightly on each of his hips and pulled him slightly backward.

“Wait” he said.  His voice was unsteady and pitched higher than normal.  It almost sounded like he was crying.  I would later learn first-hand that the first moment of insertion can be painful if things aren’t well-lubricated and lined up just right.  At the time, I was completely ignorant of this fact of life.  Nevertheless, I followed Jim’s instruction and just stayed as still as I could.

After a few more minutes, Jim started to slightly rock back and forth again again, pushing and pulling against my dick with his hole.  There was no actual in-and-out movement, as my cock was tightly clenched by his hole.  I noticed his rhythm, and I tried to match it.  When he rocked forward, I pulled back a bit.  When he leaned into me, I pushed slightly forward.

I felt something like seal break around my dick, and I suddenly slid in a little further.  Jim whimpered but did not stop his motions.  He began moving a little more, slowly going ever-so-slightly further and further back and forth, sliding more and more easily along my length.

Before I knew it, Jim had pushed back all the way so that his ass pressed against me as I pushed forward, and we held ourselves there for a moment.  Jim remained on his elbows and knees, gasping for air, and I held him from behind with my hips pushed forward and my hands gripping him around the waist.

We had been lubricated by nothing more than my spit and our sweat, and my young cock was now as fully inside him as I could get.  The overwhelming pleasure from having pushed into him all the way – and then holding still – cannot be easily described.  The heat of his insides and the almost too-tight grip that he had around me was very nearly too much for my 19-year-old mind to comprehend.  My cock was being squeezed tighter by his ass than I had ever dared do with my hand when jerking myself off.  

I leaned forward slightly, curving my back while keeping my hips in place.  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I whispered.  I knew that we had gone far down this road, but I didn’t want to lose Jim’s friendship.  If he had reservations or wanted to stop, I would have done so and jerked myself off after he left the room.  I didn’t know what he was feeling physically or emotionally.  I just had no frame of reference for his experience.

Jim half-grunted and half-moaned in acquiescence and began grinding his ass against me slightly.  I straightened back up, gripped his hips more firmly, and began to slowly draw myself out.  I could feel the grip of his hole sliding towards my dickhead.  Then I pushed forward again with just a bit more speed than I had drawn back, and Jim released another high-pitched whimper.  I pulled pack and pushed forward again a little more firmly, and Jim’s breaths started coming in short gasps.  He lowered his head to lay it between his arms, turning it to one side.

“Fuck me,” Jim had said.  I was doing just that.  Nothing more, and nothing less.  My brain and body felt like they could explode at any instant.

I looked down my hairless torso and could see myself disappearing into Jim.  The sight was enough to make my load start to churn I my balls.  “Oh, Jim,” I murmured, “I wish you could see this!”  Seeing my cock half-buried inside him was the hottest thing I had ever seen in my young life.  He did not answer me, but he began pushing back against me again as I started to thrust with more vigor.

I did not last long at all, since this was my first time with another man.  Within a few short minutes, I was overwhelmed, and my cock exploded inside him, flooding Jim with my cum.  My sense of time slowed, and it seemed to me that I continued shooting almost for as much time as I had been inside Jim.  Spasm after spasm shook me violently.  I had never felt anything like this.  Light-headed and dizzy from the sensations, I collapsed against Jim’s back unable to speak, pulling out as the last of my seed dribbled from the head of my cock.

Once Jim felt my cock leave him, he rolled over onto his back.  I clumsily fell to the side, and he roughly grabbed my head and pulled it onto his chest, pinning me there.  With his other hand he reached for his own short but swollen cock.  He gave five quick pulls, and then he was splashing my face as he released his own need.  The smell of his musk filled my nostrils while he held me tight, both of us breathless and only able to make inarticulate guttural sounds when we tried to speak.

I would like to say that this was the beginning of a long or intense relationship, but that would be a lie.  While we fooled around and I fucked him a few more times, our personalities did not mesh well enough to form a strong or lasting emotional bond in the end.  After a few more weeks, he made it clear in no uncertain terms that he considered our friendship (and everything else) over.  

I was disappointed, to say the least.  After a few days, I realized that I couldn’t force him like me if he had decided that he didn’t.  He had his life, and I had mine.  I still saw him regularly since we roomed next door to each other, but neither of us reached out to interact in anything but a superficial way.  While I regret what happened to our budding friendship, I have never regretted what we did together that night in my room.

When the Wild Winds Blow

Bill Payne came to the conservancy house on Monday. I went to Dylan’s school to speak to his sixth grade class on Wednesday. On Thursday I received another visitor at the conservancy house.

The three events had a common denominator. Each reconnected me to my work in the best possible way.

On Thursday I was thinking about running over to the conservancy after another cup of coffee. I needed to copy records for Bill. I didn’t want to put it off. As Mama and I sat at the table cleaning our plates, the weather forecast came on the radio. There was talk of a tropical depression moving into the Straits of Florida later that day. It would track nearer to Key West than to Cuba.

Before going to the conservancy laboratory, I decided to go to the marina to make sure Sea Lab was properly tied in case of a big blow. Storms in the Straits usually track far to the west before making a northern turn, but not always. It was better to be safe than sorry.

I’d fasten some extra mooring lines so Sea Lab didn’t move around in her slip and damage her hull or possibly take down the dock should she break loose.

Harry knew I would take care of Sea Lab.

I decided before I went to the marina I’d go to Pop’s shed at the side of the house and see what might be handy to better secure Sea Lab. There was no sign of a storm yet, so I sat finishing my coffee as Mama began putting out the things she’d need once she began dinner preparations.

I was on my third cup of coffee, lollygagging the day away, when there was a knock at the front door.

Mama said, “Get that, Clay. I’m not expecting anyone.”

Neither was I but my hands weren’t in the middle of a batch of biscuits dough.

Swinging the big oak door open, a young man in Bermuda shorts, a tank top, and sunglasses was standing there looking at me.

“Good morning. I’m looking for Captain Olson,” he said.

I didn’t know the guy but I knew the voice.

“Harold, is that you?” I asked, recognizing his voice from the radio on Sea Lab.

“Clay! Yes, it’s me. I’m Harold. I need to show you something. I stopped by the conservancy earlier. They said to look for you here, and here you are.”

“Yes, here I am. Come on back and get a cup of coffee. Mama’s about to pop some biscuits in the oven. If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll make time for one of Mama’s biscuits.”

“Coffee and fresh biscuits. I’ll make time. It’s time I set aside for you anyway,” Harold said, sitting in the chair I pulled out for him.

“I need to show you something, Clay. Telling you won’t do it. You’ll understand when you see what I’m talking about. Do you have your SCUBA gear handy?”

“My diving equipment is on the Sea Lab,” I said.

“Great. I’ve got one of our rubber boats parked out back. We can go around to the cove once I have another fantastic biscuit with some more coffee,” Harold said.

Mama delivered his order immediately.

“Thank you, Mrs. Olson,” Harold said. “These are the finest biscuits I’ve ever put into my mouth. My mother doesn’t bake.”

“I put up the strawberry jam last summer. It’s a perfect spread for one of my biscuits,” Mama said.

“Since we’re going around to the Sea Lab, I want to double the lines I have on her. No telling what this storm will do,” I said.

“I’ll be glad to help. I’ve got a forty pound anchor we’ll put on the bow. It won’t move around as much with that sucker holding her,” Harold said.

“I checked the forecast,” he said. “The storm’s top winds are forty-five to fifty miles an hour. It’ll turn north by northwest after it brushes Key West. It’ll be moving away from land when it is passing here. Thirty to thirty-five mile an hour winds on shore. No telling about the winds in the cove or along the coast but it’s not predicted to intensify until it gets farther north and west in the Gulf. It’s anyone’s guess what it’ll do after that. The Gulf waters are still very warm. The warmer the waters the more intense the storm.

*****

We waded out to the rubber boat Harold arrived in and Harold pulled in the anchor before before he fired up the engine and the rubber boat’s nose was immediately pointing skyward. I nearly rolled off the round rubber seat.

The rubber boat, powered by a 45 horsepower Evinrude on the back, could almost fly. The boat might have weighed fifty pounds and that was mostly air. U.S. Coast Guard was written down the side of the black boat in big red letters.

In five minutes we were entering the cove and Harold cut the speed to a crawl. He tied off next to the Sea Lab’s bow. I climbed onto the deck and fished my keys out of my pocket. I unlocked the sliding glass doors and Harold followed me inside to get the extra ropes.

“I’ve only seen the Sea Lab from a distance. It’s way more impressive up close,” Clay,” Harold said.

“I’ll give you the tour if you have time,” I said.

“This is all I have to do until I’m done. I’m on the radio after five tonight. We have extra radio men during storms. No telling who might get into trouble on the Gulf in a storm.”

I piled the ropes next to the sliding doors and I took Harold down to see the two big Detroit Diesel engines and I showed him the Sea Lab. We ended up on the bridge, looking out at a crystal clear day.

“We have pictures of the Sea Lab at headquarters. It’s a boat everyone recognizes ten miles away. No other boat has a footprint like Sea Lab does.”

“You have pictures? When did you take pictures?”

“We’ve got several shots from the air. Most of the Coast Guard Craft keep photographic records of where they’ve been and the boats they cross paths with. You’re a local boy with a distinctive boat. We all know the Sea Lab when we see it.”

I took my air tanks, wet suit, and my underwater camera and placed them on the deck beside the ropes. We tied off the Sea Lab front and rear before loading the Coast Guard boat. Harold took an extra large anchor from under one of the rubber seats. He attached a short line to the front of the Sea Lab, letting the anchor settle on the bottom. He pulled the line tight to eliminate any slack.

“I’d have never thought of anchoring the front of the boat while it’s in the slip. I’ll need to get an anchor for the bow,” I said.

“You can’t secure a boat enough in a storm. You never know which way the wild winds will blow,” Harold said. “We ready?”

“We are,” I said, resting back on the rubber seat.

*****

The Sea Lab was like I left her after I took the final photographs of my reef, after its destruction. Every sailor knew his knots from every other sailors knots. The Sea Lab hadn’t left its slip in more than a month. I didn’t know who I thought might take her out.

I felt no ill effects from being on board Sea Lab. I was at home there and it didn’t feel like I’d been away from her for over a month.

Everything was like I left it.

I locked Sea Lab and climbed back into the rubber boat.

*****

Less than an hour after arriving at the cove, we were charging out of the cove and into the Gulf of Mexico on water as smooth as glass. I didn’t know how fast the rubber boat could go but being exposed to the elements made it feel fast. I’d grown accustomed to having a lot more boat around me.

Harold sat with his hand on the throttle at the rear of the boat. The wind and my view were obscured by the front of the boat lifting up as only the last third of the boat was in the water.

We traveled directly west before he turned south by southwest after what felt like an hour. Easing back on the throttle Harold watched his compass. We kept moving for another minute. Harold cut the engine once we drifted to a stop.

“This is the first spot. It’s deep at twenty-five miles off shore. There are two more spots I’ll show you. They’re both on the way back. This is the most impressive of the three. It’s in a hundred and fifty feet of water here. Let’s go. We’ll want to be back before the storm gets here. The southeastern sky is showing signs of the storm. Probably five or six hours before the leading edge reaches here.”

We rolled backward into the water off the rubber boat. The last thing Harold did before he went in was pull an anchor from under his seat along with a couple hundred feet of nylon cord. He tossed the anchor into the water and then we went in.

It took a minute for me to be oriented to the environment. The water was fairly clear with the usual particles present as we followed the nylon rope down. I didn’t see anything remarkable but I couldn’t see the bottom either.

I let Harold show the way. It took a few minutes before I saw the target. It dominated the floor of the Gulf. The closer we got the larger it looked. I’d never seen anything like it.

This rated as one of the deeper dives I’d made and Harold had my full attention.

I remembered the day my reef had been destroyed, Harold told me about the reefs he wanted to show me. They were off the beaten path and few people knew they were there. The first one was a sunken freighter.

Harold told me, ‘It went down in a storm.’

I was looking directly at it as I got a hundred feet down. I imagined the freighter was in the bottom of an aquarium. Unlike the eighteenth century Spanish shipwreck, which was totally taken over by my reef, the metal freighter retained its shape.

Coral had taken over the main deck and the structures above it, but the ship still looked like a freighter. The coral had become a decoration on the deck of the sunken vessel and it had just begun climbing down the ship’s sides.

Diving that deep gave us less time to see what was there. It took time to come and go. The going required stops on the way to the surface to avoid excess nitrogen in the blood, nitrogen narcosis.

Seeing an entire freighter sitting upright on the bottom of the Gulf was startling. I was free to wonder how it got there. It was still in one piece. I wondered if it was a loaded freighter.

Where was it heading? Where had it been?

I was sure Harold mentioned it went down in a storm. How ironic there was a storm in the news this morning.

The circumstances brought to mind the Edmund Fitzgerald, an ore ship that sank on Lake Superior in the 70s.

The ship was on radar, making headway during a violent storm. The radar man looked away for a few seconds and when he looked back at the radar screen, the Edmund Fitzgerald was no where to be found. It was there one minute and gone the next.

There was a popular song that told the tale, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot. I’d heard it since taking possession of Sea Lab. That made it more personal. The ship on the bottom of the Gulf reminded me of how fragile life could be.

The theory of the sinking centered around the hatch covers that covered the ore compartments. They were to prevent water from coming in on top of huge amounts of ore. If one of the hatch covers came loose during a serious storm, the storm size waves rolling over the ships deck would fill the holds within a minute or two.

Seeing the sunken freighter sitting on the bottom of the Gulf had me humming the song.

*****

This ship was destined to remain like a ship on the bottom of the aquarium, after Harold and I came and went. With a coral reef developing on it, I’d need to return to see the progress it was making and I’d study the types of life that made their home here and keep track of the changes as they took place.

It wasn’t how the different species got here that was important. They were here and I wanted to know how many species made the shipwreck their home and how healthy a home it was.

The water was anywhere from fifty to two hundred and fifty feet in that area. I’d been in that location in Popov’s trawler and then later in the Sea Lab. I had a record of depths and temperatures I kept. The records told the story that the Gulf was warming and that meant bigger, more destructive storms in the Gulf.

This was one of the deeper dives I’d made. Seeing the ship and the coral from far away gave me a different perspective. I could see the sea creatures from far away but they could also see me coming. The floor of the Gulf was relatively flat, but I’d find a vantage point that allowed me to blend in with the scenery while I watched.

I went to the bottom so I could look up at the freighter. Harold had no plan beyond bringing me to the shipwreck. He stayed a few feet away, watching my reaction to the place he wanted me to see. It was a remarkable sight.

I went completely around the ship before going to the deck to see how well developed the reef was. I moved along the upper portions of the ship. I took mental notes of what I wanted to get a closer look at when I returned. I’d bring my camera and begin a pictorial record of the reef.

My heart was beating fast and I really didn’t want to go yet, but Harold was tapping his watch, waiting for me to look his way.

I had plenty of air. Surfacing would use a lot and Harold wanted to show me two more spots.

The visit to the sunken freighter had me making plans for future trips. The only way I could return to keep an eye on this reef was on the Sea Lab and that gave me even more to think about than before. It wasn’t like Bill Payne’s visit hadn’t had me thinking already.

Now, seeing the sunken freighter, I had my usual questions. Those would be the questions a marine biologist would ask and I had a need to answer them.

*****

We stayed together on our journey back to the surface.

There were two other spots Harold showed me. Neither could compare to the reef in progress on the freighter. I could learn a lot. Two smaller reefs showed promise. Smaller meant less activity and it would be easier to follow their progress. The third reef was twelve miles from the cove’s entrance. We’d started with the farthest reef from the cove and worked our way back home.

This was how my career started. Bill Payne took me on my first dive. Nothing I’d seen up until then could compare with the beauty I found underwater on that dive. I didn’t know there was beauty like that until Bill introduced it to me.

I’d also discovered that learning of beauty the likes of which I’d never seen could be a double edged sword. It was there and you enjoyed it for a while. Then one day it was no more.

Should I stop diving to find the beauty underwater because one day it might be gone? Should I study it and make every effort to preserve it in as pristine a condition as was possible?

There was no need to for an answer to that question. I was a marine biologist because of the beauty and my desire to preserve it.

I might not be able to save the Gulf but I wouldn’t stop trying.

We couldn’t stay long on the third reef. It wasn’t very deep but we’d used too much air on the first dive that we needed to cut the dives on the other two locations short.

The third reef was twelve miles from the cove and easy to get to.

I knew where all three of them were now. Harold had given me the coordinates over the radio the day my reef was destroyed. It seemed so long ago. I hadn’t thought of that offer until today.

Harold made good on what he told me he would do.

Was it time for me to get back into the game?

*****

Everything was close to me. The conservancy, the cove, the Gulf, The three new reefs Harold showed me were close enough to have me diving on them often.

I’d made my life in this place for fifteen years. I didn’t want to live anywhere else. I wanted to preserve as much of the Gulf as I could for as long as I could and I needed to be on the Gulf to do it.

Why did anything happen the way it did? Was it carefully planned or was everything random happenstance?

Mama would say, ‘It’s part of God’s plan, Clayton.”

Where was God when my reef was being blown to kingdom come? I had the answer to that question.

I didn’t know why Harold came today. A question about his timing would sound like an accusation. It would be rude.

“Hey, Harold, who put you up to this?”

After Tampa, Ivan didn’t mention my meltdown. He was proud of me in all my incarnations but the Tampa deal scared Ivan.

I thought, neither he nor Dylan mentioned diving.

It was something we all loved to do. They didn’t want to risk setting me off. I didn’t understand why I did what I did in Tampa. How would Ivan understand it. We hadn’t been together for ten years. We finished growing up a long way from each other.

Tampa was the dividing line in my life. I was a man. I loved another man and we had a son. The rest of my life was at hand.

I didn’t want to do something that might upset the way things were. If change wasn’t necessary, I would avoid it.

*****

We got out of our gear and Harold was bringing in the anchor at the final dive site he showed me.

“So Harold, what brought this on?” I asked.

“I’d like to tell you it was all my idea, Clay. It was the right thing to do, but my commander came to me late last week and asked where the Sea Lab was. I told him I didn’t know. You hadn’t been on the radio in over a month. I realized then that I should have checked on you sooner because you’re always in the Gulf.”

“Do tell, Harold.”

“My commander said, ‘We need Clay out here. There are too few of us out there now. We can’t afford to lose one as dedicated a scientist as Olson.’ You do do us a lot of good, which makes our job easier. By telling the story of the Gulf people are better informed. My commander was in Tampa the night you spoke. He said he was inspired by what you said. He called you, ‘A passionate advocate.’”

“I didn’t know you guys noticed me that much. You spend your time chasing bad guys. Does the coast guard let you take its boat out any time you want? I can tell you, I was surprised to see you.”

“We can use it on business when the commander says so. He said so, after I explained that I’d offered to show you some reefs. He said, ‘Find Clay and take him there. He might need a friendly nudge.’” “I don’t know what to tell you, Harold. Tell your commander he’s given me a lot to think about. What you showed me today is a start in the right direction.”

“Well, I’ve done what I came to do. We have charts at headquarters marking where shipwrecks are in the Gulf and when each ship went down. I dive, so I’ve been to most of the sites. Come by while I’m on duty and I’ll show you those charts. You’ve seen the three best reefs I dive on. The freighter is my favorite.”

*****

Going east toward the coast, we ran into choppy waters. The wind had begun to blow in our faces. The leading edge of the storm had arrived. The day went from clear to overcast.

Harold left me behind the house and waved as he headed toward Coast Guard headquarters. I’d put my gear in the trunk of the Chevy. I’d take it to the marina when I took Ivan his lunch the next day.

I went up the outside stairs to the third floor, dropping my tanks and wet suit on the porch outside the double doors to my bedroom.

I took a shower and dressed in my blue jeans and a tee-shirt. I went down to the kitchen for a sandwich and a glass of iced tea.

I sat at the table watching Mama preparing dinner. The summer made it easy for Mama to plan and fix her wonderful meals. The Piggly Wiggly was filled with fresh fruits and vegetables and Mama had a dozen ways to present each to a hungry family. It was almost three and I needed to pick Dylan up from school.

“Mama, when I let Dylan off, I’m going out for a while. If I’m not back in time for dinner, don’t worry. I’ve got some thinking to do and I can’t do it here.”

“Clay, it’s starting to rain. The wind is blowing harder than when you came in. Can’t you think upstairs?” Mama asked. “I don’t like the idea of you being out in a storm.”

“My room is like Grand Central Station in the afternoon, Mama. I need some privacy. I’m not going far. I’ll be fine,” I said, heading for my car.

I turned on the 1956 Chevy’s windshield wipers. I might have just as well saved my energy. It was rainy sideways by the time I reached the road.

It was getting darker and I couldn’t see if anyone was coming or not at the end of the driveway. I turned on my blinker and I turned right onto the highway. No one was usually coming but there was no way to be sure.

I could see as far as my hood ornament. I pulled in beside the phone booth at J.K.’s Kitchen. I called Lucy at school.

“This is Lucy Olson, how can I help you?” She asked.

“Hey, Luce, I was just leaving to pick up Dylan. It’s raining cats and dogs. Can you bring him home with you?”

“Sure. If you see a poodle, pick one up for me,” she joked.

“I thought you were a cat person, sis.”

“Those too,” she said.

“I won’t be home for dinner. Just tell Dylan I had something to do,” I said, hanging up the phone.

There was a place where my thinking was clearest.

*****

It took fifteen minutes to drive the three miles to the conservancy from the marina. I parked near the dune that towered over my laboratory. I took the path we’d worn to the top and Sunshine’s monument overlooked my office and the Gulf of Mexico. From the top of the sand dune I could see neither my lab nor the Gulf. They were lost in the rain and low hanging clouds. It would have seemed eerie if not for the noise the storm kicked up.

This was my calm in a storm. I was at peace here.

The clouds hid the Gulf a few hundred feet away. It wasn’t as black as black but it was close. The sound the Gulf made was of a sea in a rage. I had to listen closely to separate the noise the wind made from the sound of the sea.

I was calm in a gale bringing tumult to the Gulf. In spite of the wind, the rain, and the stinging sand, my mind worked on a different level here. It was no different this time. Thoughts of Sunshine made me smile. If she were alive, she’d be sitting here with me, and she’d have no shortage of things to say.

The storm was a metaphor for my life at the moment. I’d had a storm going on inside me for six months. I was pulled in one direction and pushed in another. My life had come apart and I needed to put it back together again. I needed to forget my doubts and slay my fear.

The storm in the Gulf would pass soon. I wanted the storm inside me to subside here and now. People depended on me. I’d never known hardship. My life was better than I had any right to expect.

Sunshine became a stabilizing force in my life the last time my life was in turmoil. She gave me strength while I dealt with Ivan leaving me. I needed to gain strength now that he was home. He was home and we were together. For years I dreamed this.

I’d conducted myself responsibly for the entire time Ivan was gone. At times I became fearful of letting him out of my site. I knew what I expected, but he was home and working on the cove plans. It reassured me when I flashed back on the years he was gone.

I had a life of my own and responsibility. This wasn’t a time when I should be away from work. It was time for me to regain control and live the life I’d built for myself. If Ivan was there at my side, it would be wonderful. If he wasn’t, my life would still be good.

I was a grown man with a son to raise. He was my number one priority. I had to remain strong for Dylan no matter what Ivan did. I was certain the fear of losing Ivan would subside. He’d been home nearly six months and we were together.

*****

It had been a week of reminders of what I did and who I was. I may have run from my responsibilities, but over a month after I dashed away from work, it surrounded me on all sides, like a storm.

It was a reminder of what I did and why I did it. It was the kids in their classroom that had me rethinking my career. Their questions and interest in what I did were eye opening and a catalyst for me to get busy.

Mrs. Foster put my presentation into context when I was ready to leave her classroom. She stepped into the hall behind me.

“No telling how many marine biologists you created today, Mr. Olson. I suspect more than a few who will be changed by your words. What a fascinating presentation. If I were forty years younger, I’d be ordering SCUBA tanks. You brought our world into focus for them as well as for me,” she said. “Thank you.”

I felt ashamed of myself.

Dylan had a different take on my appearance in front of his sixth grade class.

“They liked you, Daddy,” Dylan said. “When I told them you took me out on Sea Lab, they didn’t believe me. When I told them I drove Sea Lab, they laughed.”

“You didn’t hear a word I said. Your nose stayed stuck in Anna Karenina the entire time I was there,” I said.

“I heard every word. Want me to repeat it for you? I’ll start with, ‘Girls are just as smart as boys.’ Quinton is a woman’s libber.”

I remembered reading Dr. Seuss to him. He was three. He could repeat the words back to me after I’d read a book a second time. if I tried to read one a third time, he’d say the words before I read them. He came by his memory honestly. Ivan could do remarkable things with his mind. He made me smarter while I tried to keep up with him.

In this respect Dylan was very much his father’s son. My experience with Dylan and Dr. Seuss told me he had his father’s mind. I hoped Dylan didn’t inherit his father’s restlessness. He seemed content being where he was but Ivan had been content until he discovered a reason to leave.

“They didn’t believe I let you take the helm of Sea Lab?” I asked.

“No. They’re such children. They imagine nothing happens beyond their own experiences. Have they got a surprise coming.”

“Yes they do,” I said, thinking how fast my son was growing up.

In the real world, Central Park is known for iconic sites like Bethesda Terrace, Belvedere Castle and Bow Bridge. But, in the gay world, there is one location that is well known above all else and that is The Ramble. 

No one knows exactly when The Ramble became the hook-up spot for many gay men, but it became well known by the 1970’s and 80s due to its easy access yet secluded nature. It’s like a small bit of woodland in the center of New York City.

There have been many tales about the Ramble, and in this tale a sexually frustrated baker takes a jog and meets a construction worker when he deviates from routine…

New York City Present Day

---

Jason Roberts, loved to jog, and so every other day he would take a jog through Central Park. At 37, with a robust hairy chest and stomach Jason knew he’d never be a GQ model, but he kept himself fit as best he could. Well as one could when you own a bakery. It was a gorgeous spring day when Jason began his jog. The shadows of the pre-war apartment buildings that line Central Park West stretched out east towards the park while a breeze from the west helped give the park a feel of a late winter chill. For despite the blooming of spring that had begun in earnest a few weeks ago it was still late April, and the temperature could swing at any time.

Jason hurried through his routine jog. He’d enter on the west side on 90th street join the bridle path for about a mile south before turning east to Bethesda Terrace. Passing the terrace and the throng of tourists, Jason would head back up north along the East Drive before rejoining the Bridle Path near the reservoir and heading west back to the west side and out at 90th Street.

For years Jason did this route without much deviation. However, this jog was one of those exceptions.

The Ramble is a strange place. Plenty of (mostly straight) people pass through without a thought. But for queer people, especially gay men, the Ramble often calls those who need release. Jason would deny it if you asked him if he needed help in the bedroom, and he would reply he was busy running the bakery. A bakery him and Adam once dreamed up when they met years ago in college. Both men, dreamers planned the bakery down to the type of lights they would use. Of course, it was a silly dream neither of them couldn’t even bake! Instead, they pocketed the idea while their careers took off in their late 20s, Jason a teacher and Adam an architect. Then they turned 30 and the idea of Bakery didn’t seem so bad, so they made a pact that at 35 they’d quite their jobs and open the bakery.

At 32, Adam got cancer so the two decided to push up the idea. The bakery was a much-needed distraction, and the impossible dream was within reach except the cancer returned and Adam died at 34.

Jason, in the throes of grief, decided to go through with the idea in Adam’s memory. On what would’ve been Adam’s 35th birthday, the Adams’ Apple Pie Shop and Bakery opened to rave reviews and good press. Tucked in the corner is a picture of the two in happier times. Lost in that original dream perhaps.

Flash forward to the present and The Ramble perhaps sensing the suppressed loneliness of Jason sends a slight breeze to the south. The feeling of the breeze distracts the man that it drives him into a group of bird watchers. Jason avoids them but in doing so he goes left instead of right and while still in the zone Jason is drawn into The Ramble.

Upon entering the wooded space Jason decided, to his surprise, to slow down. It had been a long time since he’d walked through The Ramble. Like many parts of the city, Jason and Adam had explored The Ramble together and yet they passed through without leaving their mark unlike so many gay men before. Jason always wanted to try it, but Adam was more cautious. Jason suggested it many times, but Adam declined saying that it was too dangerous, and he didn’t want to get caught. Yet for Jason that was the thrill of it. The idea of horny men just looking for a simple and quick fling and the possibility of being watched was a bit of a turn on. He’d never done it in The Ramble and thought it would be a something to brag about to their fellow gay friends.

At first, that thought was in the back of Jason’s mind when he decided to cut through The Ramble and rejoin the Bridle Path and complete the run. The slowing down allowed Jason to ruminate further on the fact that he and Adam didn’t get the chance when a voice broke him out of his train thought.

“Nice Ass White Boy” a voice said.

Jason looked around and saw a Black man who was 6’4, skin the complexion of espresso with an impressive set of dreadlocks atop his head. He wore what was a light jacket that was frayed at the edges, a paint-stained t-shirt, dark wash jeans and finally a pair of construction boots. He looked up and down Jason’s 5’11 frame and liked what he saw. To Jason’s surprise, the feeling was mutual.

“Thanks,” Jason Replied. A part of Jason wanted to head back out and continue jogging and yet he was drawn to this stranger. He moves closer.

“You come here often,” the stranger asks.

“No, made a detour,” Jason answered. “You?”

“When the mood strikes.” The stranger coyly responded.

“It’s a nice day for a walk.” Jason said, trying to make small talk.

“Yes, but I’m thinking a bit beyond a walk,” the stranger implied.  

Jason felt his dick twitch. He hadn’t felt that in a while he noticed. The last time that happened he needed an electrician to look at his oven. The man was gruff said very little was a few years older the Jason and yet he was aroused by the man’s take-charge and matter of fact nature. Long before he met Adam, Jason always had a fantasy of hooking up with someone like the man in front of him. Blue collar, gruff and rough-hewed, one who took charge when called to. To be used and manhandled by a piece of trade like this man had Jason mesmerized. For years, Jason thought that this fantasy would never happen he told himself that a bed was the best way for him to find pleasure. After all him and Adam played house for years well, perhaps too well and finally perhaps it wasn’t too late for Jason to try something new.

The stranger walked past him, and Jason turned back to watch him disappear behind a bend. Jason followed at a decent space between them. The stranger would look back ever few seconds to see if Jason was following, which he like a dog following its owner.

This went on until the stranger found a part of The Ramble he clearly had gone to before and disappeared into the bush. Jason followed and a few seconds after climbing inside the wood, he came to a clearing where the stranger had already released his cock out of his jeans and began to stroke his cock. It was a solid 8 inches and thick as a cable on the biggest crane in Manhattan. The stranger gave the same air confidence that drew Jason the moment the stranger commented on his ass. Like the electrician, the strangers cool and controlled demeanor only turned Jason on more.  He leaned on a tree with an expression that belied only a hint of the seduction that pulled Jason to him like a spider to his web.

The cock loomed lout of the strangers’ pants as an invitation to be played with. To which Jason was mesmerized by its girth and length. Adam was sorter but what he lacked in size he made up in performance. Jason wasn’t used to a cock this big in a very long time. However, that made him desire this elongated piece of muscle even more. For this was Jason giving into his most basic of desires something he couldn’t help but be nervous about. After all these years the opportunity finally presented itself and he hoped that it would live up to his expectations.    

Shaking off the last inhibitions he had left, Jason came within a hair’s breadth of the man before leaning in with a lustful kiss. It was as if 3 years of sexual lust burst from dormancy. The two embraced while Jason fumbled to loosen the drawstring of his shorts so this Ebony god could feel upon his manhood. Now rock hard and matching him in thickness but slightly shorter at 7.5 inches. The two kissed whilst jerking each other off stroke for stroke while their tongues battled for supremacy between their lips. Jason won and his reward was a grunt from the stranger and then Jason felt himself being pushed down to the man’s cock. With his passion now fueled by pure lust, Jason’s mouth swallowed the man’s member with almost zero difficulty. The cock tasted so good inside Jason’s mouth as he wrapped his tongue around this dark and thick shaft. It was also a dick that didn’t have a passive owner. Soon the stranger was thrusting his hips in order to face fuck Jason causing him to gag for the first time. Jason relaxed his muscles and proceeded to have his cheek feel the abuse until he heard a grunt from the stranger and soon cum came flooding into Jason’s mouth.

Jason choked and sputtered at first but managed to keep most of the cum from spewing out of his mouth. With great effort he swallowed enough cum to make room for a second burst of sour nectar of creation. The man bought Jason up for a kiss and saliva and cum swapped inside their mouths until the stranger decided to return the favor and released Jason’s jogging shorts.

The stranger was really turned on by the musky smell from Jason’s recent jog and he proceeded to go to town on Jason’s dick sucking as if his life depended on it. He also began to squeeze the Jason’s plump ass. The first thing that attracted the stranger to him. That and his love of musky smells that drove him wild. Despite having already spent a load he knew he could easily give this man another load, if he wanted to and Jason, who was in pure heat at this point, showed no signs of letting up.

“Oh fuck,” Jason moaned. “You’re so damn good. Take my cock.”  

The stranger continued his oral assault on Jason all the while slowly probing his fingers closer to the baker’s waiting hole. Wanting more access, he lowered Jason’s shorts and underwear, a pair of black trunks, further down Jason’s thick legs. The stranger took his index and middle finger and put it in his mouth to lubricate it and then plunged it into Jason’s velvet pucker. Jason gasped in euphoria as both the hole and pole were now plunging him into ecstasy. Jason racked his head to even past him and Adam’s many trysts and couldn’t find one that compared to this. This was on a different level to just sex on a bed. Jason realized that everything was sharper and more sensitive than it was before he knew it and he realized it was time to release his load.  

“Oh, fuck yes, please take my seed.” Jason begged.

Within seconds Jason released the pent-up load and shuddered as the cum was drained from his body. Jason desperately wanted the encounter to continue so he made a request.

“Please fuck me.” Jason asked. “Do you have condoms?”

The stranger, reached into his knapsack to pull out both condoms and lube. As the man put on the condom, Jason went towards a tree and braced himself while the man added a gob of lube to two of his fingers and put them back into Jason’s hole. Jason grunted as the man played with his hole teasing him something he wasn’t used to but relaxed for a minute to let the man feel inside his sphincter. This only made the desire to be fucked increase tenfold.

“Just do it please, I beg of you,” Jason whined, fully surrendered to the moment.

At that moment, the fingers were removed from inside Jason’s hole and seconds later were replaced with the stranger’s cock burying itself into Jason.

Jason took several deep breaths while the cock began to settle inside his hole, tight from years of almost zero sexual activity. Despite this, Jason was able to adjust and felt the man remove the cock temporarily before re-entering Jason’s pink palace of pleasure. This time the hole offered less resistance and Jason began to relax. The stranger began to slowly thrust inside and got into a rhythm that made Jason moan and repeat the phrase fuck over and over as the stranger picked up the rhythm going a bit faster with each thrust until the stranger settled on a pace that satisfied both men. Despite being the middle of Manhattan, the rest of the world did not exist right now. It was just two men ignoring the outside world for a moment and connecting by the rhythm of the strangers’ thrusts and Jason’s moans that reminded them that sound existed in their own little cocoon.

Now deep in heat, the stranger made verbal grunts and gripped Jason by the waist with one hand and around Jason’s neck with the other. Jason felt the ecstasy of the fuck course through every inch of his body. It felt electric and so alive. It was as if he is re-entering the land of the living and the sex here was both rough yet ritualistic in nature. Jason was on a sexual high he thought only Adam could provide, but instead he was happy that his fantasy of being taken by this blue-collar stud was fighting for the photo finish. Until now, Jason didn’t realize is how much he had wanted this particularly fantasy to come true. And he was getting every second of its worth. The man pounded Jason’s hole with an intensity that even Adam on his best days didn’t match.

“Tell me where you want it,” the stranger asked in between panting.  

“Keep it inside,” Jason replied. “I want to feel you wreck my insides!”

“As you wish.” The stranger said.

The man did a quick series of thrusts before finally with a violent spasm, cum once again flowed out of its 8-inch launcher filling the condom with a generous amount of seed.

Jason, now sweating for the second time, took a few breaths to recover before separating from the man. After the two separated Jason pulled his shorts back up and the man buckled his jeans and picked up his bag. Several minutes of sexual tension that had hung in the air finally begun to dissipate like a spell that had joined the finally broken.

“I’m going to leave first and then you can follow after a few seconds,” the stranger whispered.

“Okay, I can do that” Jason replied.

“Cool, see you around I guess.” The stranger answered back. And with that he disappeared into the bush.

True to Jason’s word he exited shortly afterwards and walked out of The Ramble. He walked home and took a shower, which he played with his sore yet still open hole leading him to cum again for a second time. Jason went to bed, and he fell into the best sleep he had in months. The next morning, he was in a much better mood at work and even one female customer said he looked as if he was glowing. Jason was indeed a changed man. He began to explore The Ramble more meeting all types of guys while fucking and getting fucked that for a few years. He became a regular until he finally found a new partner, ironically enough in The Ramble, and they ‘retired’ from it in order to move on with their lives. Jason credited The Ramble for reinvigorating his sex life, but strangely he never saw the first man, the stranger, ever again.

Note: Glad you all enjoyed it. We will return to the previous story with the characters Jamie, Robbie, Eddie, Daniel and Gino in the next installment. After that series has been concluded The Ramble will continue to be a setting for a few more stand alone stories like this one until I decide on what to write next!

-AJS   

Chapter 3

Lunch break and hot soup

Thu, May 26th, 2022:

“Hi, Wes. Mark is not there.”

“What? Where is he?”

“He’s taking a day off.”

“Really? He didn’t tell me.”

“Well… he called in this morning.”

Seriously?! “Right… Thanks.”

.

Is he ditching me? That’s seriously childish. I was the one with fingers up my ass. What’s he on about? I picked up my phone and called him.

“Are you avoiding me?” I said instead of a greeting.

“Look at Mister Self-centered. But, no, Wesley, trust me, my life is not evolving around you only.”

“Yeah, right. I played this card too many times to know.”

“What card? Fingering someone’s ass and then not coming to work?”

“No, just ditching them.”

“How charming of you, Wesley. You are every guy’s dream come true.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Wait. Are you now seriously upset with me, Wesley?”

“I wanted to have lunch with you.”

“How sweet. Well, take someone else today.”

“Why are you not at work?”

“I am ditching you cos I already made you cum on my face and didn’t want you to get your hopes up,” he sounded amused.

“Jerk.”

“How does it feel?”

“Just shut up. Are you going to now just stop coming to work so you don’t have to see me?”

He now sounded really entertained. “How long are you usually ditching the poor guy so he will get a hint?”

“Depends on the guy,” I growled and went from the elevator straight into one call room.

“If you were to fuck me yesterday, how long would it take?”

“I would take you to lunch today.”

“What a load of crap!” I could hear a glee in his voice. I hated this. “Seriously, please tell me.”

“Just shut up.”

“I will make you cum again if you tell me the truth.”

I stopped pacing around the small room. “What?”

“I don’t think you could have missed what I just said.”

“How can you make me cum if you are not at work? Can I come to yours?”

“I will use your hand for it.”

“So you will just make me jerk off again, virgin?”

“Take it or leave it, but I am curious.”

“About what?”

“About how you would sound doing it and for how long would you be avoiding me if I let you fuck me yesterday?”

“Dude! I seriously don’t believe you are fucking virgin!”

“Are you hard now, Wesley?” his voice got gruff. Damn! I started to be.

I chose silence.

He waited.

.

And we now waited longer.

“Wesley, if you are silent too long, the mood will be gone by the time you decide.”

I looked down. “A little.”

“How nice. Where are you?”

“Call room on 9th. Care to come and join me?”

“Maybe another time.”

My cock jerked as the blood flew lower. “Will you?”

“So, how long is the honest answer, Wesley?”

“It would depend on many things. After yesterday, I would definitely take you to lunch again.”

“How nice. So how many times would you fuck me if I let you?”

“I don’t know, dude. Few times…”

“Oh, a whole few! How generous. How many of those few would be so it won’t be that awkward because we are working in the same building?”

“I don’t know, Mark. What do you want me to say?”

“That you are a dick, and you would toss me aside after the first time if I were not the one taking charge and making you my bitch.”

“Fine, maybe.”

“Good, now just let me hear you say that, and you can start jerking that cock.”

“I don’t need your permission to cum, asshole.”

“No, you don’t, but you want it. Don’t you?”

Damn it … I really did now. This was making me hot as hell! I stayed silent again.

.

“Oh, Wesley, that silent treatment is boring by now. I think I will just hang up. Bye.”

“Wait,” I said in a low, slow tone as if whispering a prayer. Damn it! What is this? My dick was really hard now from all this.

“What do you think I am waiting for?”

I had no idea… “Sir?”

Mark burst out laughing on the other end. I felt really humiliated now. Wasn’t he waiting for that?

“Wesley, I was never more sorry that I don’t have my calls recorded.”

“Yeah, real fucking hilarious.”

“I was originally waiting for you to say that you are an asshole and you would ditch me after the first time if I were not the one taking charge and making you my bitch. But I will give you special extra worthless points for that Sir part.”

“Seriously? Why should I? So that you can hear me jerk off at work?”

“Simply because if you didn’t want that, you would have hung up long ago or didn’t tell me to stop when I was about to.”

“Asshole.”

“Yes, please continue. Even I would like you to start with, I AM an asshole, though.”

I groaned in frustration. I looked down and had to adjust my cock upwards so it was not making an obvious tent now. Fuck! Why is that asshole so hot now? I should be the one making him flush, horny, and flustered!!

.

“Okay, one more silent treatment, and I am hanging up, Wesley.”

“I am thinking, dickhead. I have never done something like this!”

“What? Jerking off?” He was now so elated it was annoying.

“Asshole!”

“So?”

“Okay, fine. I am an asshole, and I would throw you out after I would fuck you, and then I would probably stop coming to the IT for a while. But that would be only if you were really awkward and bad at it.”

“I never had sex, Wesley. How good do you think it could have been with no experience whatsoever?”

“Fucking asshole, you are not acting like some shy virgin!”

“No, but what if I had?”

“Then I would probably use you and toss you away, and if you came after me, I would be just polite but dick nonetheless.”

“Thank you, Wesley. How was it hearing yourself saying that?”

“Relieving, but I feel a bit bad knowing that it’s true.”

“How sweet that you could even feel bad about it, but I am sure you would get over it, would you?”

“Yeah, we are adults. You would make your own decision.”

“Sure.”

.

Was he now giving me the silent treatment?

“Mark?”

“I am thinking, dickhead. I have never done something like this.” Mark said in an amused tone.

“You don’t sound like that one bit.”

“My poor player, what? Am I not fitting into your stereotypical black-and-white world?”

“I don’t see the word in black and white.”

“Let’s cut the crap, Wesley. Take out that cock and sit on that chair facing the wall,” he suddenly changed his tone, and I tilted my head back in exhale, feeling my cock twitch.

“Here?”

“Yes, and now.”

“Fuck!”

.

“Is that cock leaking?”

“Yeah.”

“Scoop some, and let me hear you lick it.”

“For fucks’ sake, you little perv.”

“I hear bitching, not licking, Wesley.”

I did as he told me, trying not to think about that small part of the door with tinted glass. I was pretty sure no one should see me now. But I was still feeling weird doing that here.

.

“Good, now spit in your hand and stroke only the head; do not go lower than the head.”

I did and felt myself breathing heavily after a few minutes of doing that.

“Now spit again. This time, you can stroke only the rest.”

I groaned but complied.

“Now, a single slow stroke down. Slow!”

“Man, I am in the call room. I have no time for an hour-long jerk-off session.” I whispered into my phone, annoyed and flustered. I wanted to rub off one and go eat quickly!

“Then stop bitching and work that cock.”

“Fuck!”

“Slow. Down…”

.

That little perv made me fist my cock right in that small call room with my co-workers walking around me. I hated just how much I loved it. The worst part I couldn’t get over, as I was returning to my desk, was that he made me eat it and then mocked me, that he hoped I enjoyed my lunch! I really did spend my whole lunch break having him dictate the strokes of my hand on my cock, and then I fucking ate it out of my hand!! How fucking insane am I?

.

“Hi, how was your lunch?”

“Shut up, Jim.”

“What’s up your ass, man?”

“Nothing.” At that moment, I thought and shuttered at the realization that it really did cross my mind. At the moment?! What the fuck? I need to break that little perverted guy! I want him to crawl under me and beg me for my cock! I was furious! But deep down, I knew I loved it, and I hated myself for that so fucking much!

.

I sat behind my desk and opened the search engine. Demisexual. I wrote in the search bar and dove into reading. So that fucker needs to fall in love with me? Fine! You will fucking love me by the time I am done with you!

.

…

Fri, May 27th, 2022:

The next day I came again to the IT.

“Hi, Wes. Mark is not here.”

“Why?”

“He is still on sick leave. He got soaked on the way home and caught a cold. I thought I told you that yesterday.”

“No, you just said he’s not here.”

“Yeah, he didn’t have the chance since you stormed out and took your phone out. So we thought you were calling him.”

“I did.”

“So why he didn’t tell you himself?”

Cos he made me eat my load at work in a fucking call room instead! “No idea.”

I turned. “Thanks, guys,” I said, pulling out my phone as I left.

.

“Why haven’t you told me you are at home sick?”

“Why? Would you bring me a hot soup and tuck me into bed?”

I will fuck you into that bed once! “Yes, I am a very good caretaker.”

“How cute and sweet, Wesley. No need. I am not dying, thank you.”

“Come on, just let me help.”

“You just want to find out where I live.”

“Yes. But think about it. It’s my fault that you got soaked riding your bike from my place.”

“Good try, Wesley. But I wouldn’t want you to get sick as well.”

“Please, I take great care of my immune system. I will be fine!”

“I am not telling you my address, Wesley.”

“Suit yourself.” I hung up, a plan already brewing in my head.

.

I went back to the IT.

“Ryan, bro, I spoke with Mark, he’s got a fever, and I told him to go to sleep.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah, but he wanted some groceries and told me the address, but I was dumb and told him I don’t need to write it down and that I will remember it.”

“And you forgot the second you hung up, did you?” Simon smirked.

“Yes.” I gave him my best, trustworthy, apologetic smile.

“Then just call him back,” Simon said.

“I don’t want to wake him up. Come on. We’ve been going to lunches for months now. You know I am not going to his house to rob him.” I smirked.

“Sure. But I don’t know his address.” Simon said.

“I do. I drove him a few times when it was raining. I will write it for you so you won’t forget the moment you will walk out the door.”

“Yeah, hilarious, Ryan.” I scoffed and smiled. “Thanks.” I took that piece of paper and managed to suppress my victory laugh.

.

We made some more small talk, and soon I returned to my desk, looking up some restaurant menus on the way to his house. He wanted a hot soup and to be tucked in bed. So let’s get him exactly that.

.

I called a restaurant and called to place an order for four o’clock. I finished early and picked it up after I got some groceries. Since I know how much that guy cares about the environment, I went to Whole Foods and spent more than I would on a second-date dinner. Let’s put knowledge about him, thanks to those lunches, to good use!

.

.

I took everything out and walked to his house. I just hoped he didn’t still live with his parents. It was a small traditional family house. But this one had, of course, solar panels on the roof like I would expect anything less.

.

I rang the bell and waited. Mark opened, wearing a mask and annoyed, dumbfounded frown. I was ready for that. I pulled his mask down and kissed him before I muscled my way around him.

“Hi, sweetie, special delivery.”

He turned after me, watching me step into his hall and look around.

“That was seriously dumb, Wesley.”

“What? I brought you hot soup and groceries, so where is the bed?”

“I meant the kissing, you dumbass. There is a reason why I am not at work, and I am wearing it when answering the door.”

“Right, that was the reason why I kissed you. Now you can toss it. I had visitors when I was sick, and I wanted to throw them out so that I could finally remove that thing off my face and breathe! Now you can just take it off. You already infected me.” I winked at him, but he didn’t seem amused one bit.

“Are you seriously that dumb?”

I grinned. “Yes. Now, where is the kitchen?”

“Get out, Wesley.”

“Do you know how much effort it took me to find out where you live, order the soup and buy groceries so I can cook for you? Come on, be a good patient and say Thank you, the kitchen is that way.”

“How did you find out where I live?”

“Sweetie, the soup is getting cold. Where is that bed?”

“Why?”

“Cos you going to eat it.”

“I don’t eat in my bed.”

“Everyone eats in their bed when they are sick.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they should. Now. Kitchen?”

.

He gave a long, hard look… “For goodness sake, there.” He threw his hand in one direction.

I grinned. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Stop calling me that.”

I smirked. “Why?”I moved towards his kitchen when I heard him.

“Shoes off now.”

I turned to him. “Really?”

He nodded sternly, hands on his hips. “Now.”

I stepped on the back of one with the other and removed them like that since my hands were full. “Fine, here. Happy? Socks too, sweetie?”

Mark stood there looking at me like he didn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Cute, sweetie, cute is the word you are looking for. And also a thank you.” I winked at him and strolled into his kitchen.

.

Mark soon followed and stood there. His arms crossed over his chest. Frowning. I put the groceries down, washed my hands, and found two bowls that I used for serving the soups.

I put them on the counter and looked at Mark with my most charming smile. He kept staring, still in that mask. How cute. I came over, pulled that mask down again, and dove into his mouth, kissing him, making out with his tongue. He looked absolutely stupefied when I let him go and grinned.

“Now take that thing off and come eat.”

“Wesley, this is not cute or funny. What if I had COVID or something really grave?”

“Then you wouldn’t be standing there and talking with me like that,” I smirked.

“What if it had a longer incubation period?”

“In that case, let me now exonerate you from any possible guilt if such an issue arises.” I raised my hand theatrically and saw his nose scrunch, which he does when something amuses him.

“Ha, you scrunched. I won!” I pointed my index finger at him victoriously. “Now take it off and come eat.”

Mark shook his head but complied, sitting opposite me.

“Still, I can tuck you in bed and bring this on a tray.”

“No, thanks.”

“Fine, but the deal was a hot soup and tucking in bed. So I am expecting to see your bed tonight.”

Mark looked at me like I was an entertaining idiot. I don’t mind. I kind of like that smirk of his.

“There was no such deal, Wesley.”

“Sure there was. Do you have your calls recorded so we can check?” I grinned.

He looked at me intently with a devious smirk. “It’s really good. How was your lunch, Wesley?”

I pierced him with a wide grin. “Shut up and eat your soup, sweetie.”

.

We ate and talked about various things when he asked what are those groceries for. I told him I would cook him the best soup my mom used to make when I was sick. He got interested in that, and then we spent another hour and a half in his kitchen talking about our families while he drank tea I made him, and I cooked that soup I promised. It was actually lovely. Sure, it was part of my plan, but who says I can’t enjoy it also?

.

At one point, Mark shook his head and looked into his cup. “You are going to be sick as well, Wesley.”

“Good, you know my address. You can come to take care of me then.”

“No way. It’s not my fault that you came here and acted like an unresponsible fool.”

I looked at him with a wide smile. “You will come.”

“No, I won’t. Just giving you a heads-up. I don’t believe it is a good idea to share illnesses.”

“You will.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Fine.” I smiled, put the heat on low, and came to him. “So, this will take about four to six hours to be done. What do you want to do in the meantime?”

He looked at me, shocked. “What?!”

“What?” I asked with an innocent smile.

“Why do you think I want you to be here four more hours?”

“Four to six.” I corrected with a smirk.

He looked at the clock. “No! It’s already six.”

“So it should be done by midnight.”

“Who will eat it at midnight?”

“Don’t worry. I will heat it for you tomorrow.”

“What do you mean you will heat it for me tomorrow?”

“What could I mean? Look, sweetie, you are sick. Do you think I will leave you here all alone?”

.

“Wesley, this is amusing, but seriously what are you trying to achieve now?”

I put my arms across the table and then bent them at elbows, my palms supporting my chin as I smiled at him. “I want you to fall in love with me, so I can finally fuck you.”

“You are joking!”

I smiled and stood up above him.“No. You just got yourself a boyfriend, virgin. Deal with it.” I kissed him before taking his empty cup from his slack hands. He stared at me in disbelief.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” I grinned, leaning on his counter.

“Then I want to break up.”

“Okay, how about you give me a chance?”

“Why?”

“I like you. I told you already. I find you fucking interesting, and I love how pervy you are. I just want to see where that can go.”

“So, you can fuck me and throw me away?”

“Yes, or who knows, maybe you will make me fall in love with you too.” I grinned.

“What if I won’t fall in love with you for a year or two?”

“Will we fuck by that time?”

“No.”

I frowned. “I don’t like that.”

“Good.”

.

“Look, Mark. You like me as well. You like being sexual in a way with me. How about we just see how that goes?”

“So you can ditch me the moment I will fall in love with you?”

“Look, no one knows how the relationships will end up once they start. Maybe we will break up within a month, maybe I will be the one to fall for you, but you won’t, and you will break my heart. No one can be sure of anything at this point. But I like you. So sure, be your charming self-protecting perv, and let’s see if I can crack that shell or at least enjoy myself in the meantime.”

“Will we be exclusive?”

“Do you plan on fingering other people?”

Mark scrunched his nose. “No, but what about you?”

“I can try being faithful for some time.”

“How reassuring…”

“So, what do you say, sweetie? Can I now tuck you in that bed?”

Mark facepalmed and started laughing.

---

Hello, dear reader. Thank you for stopping by. If you’d like to read ahead, you can check out my Patreon and my other stories.

Patreon/I_Dusk – https://www.patreon.com/i_dusk/about