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Many years ago in a land far away on a magical July afternoon, I met a new part of myself…or why John Barry is still the king of magical music in my mind.

Copyright 2023- all rights reserved- C.L.Lewis

This is a true story.  The names have been changed to protect the innocent and my co-conspirators.  The place is still there, yet remodeled once again. 

This all started yesterday (September 21, 2023) when I stumbled on Joni Mitchell’s performance at the 2022 Newport Folk Music Festival, during some late-night YouTube-ing. She was singing “Both Sides Now”  in a stunning new arrangement that evokes one to remember their past.  (I am telling you to find this performance on YouTube. Then with a bit of search compare it to her singing the song 50-plus years ago in early TV performances, the Later 60s 70’s, 80s, 90s, and 2000’s- it will make you want to study musicology and reflect on what a wonderful time we have grown up in)  

This musical and video surfing started a cascade of musical memories and associated emotions of love, joy, pain, and suffering -what happens as you walk through the hallways and the windmills of your mind, one performance leading to yet other song and then another from the soundtrack of my life, . After a few songs up comes John Barry’s Movieola and the “Somewhere in Time” suite which makes me think back a few decades. (cue a slow plaintive, Kenny G-ish rendition of Summer Loving had me a blast (in a minor setting) intermingled with Michel Legrand’s “Summer of 42”  and you will feel the background mood and vibe)

All this led to an old beautiful memory:

The time summer 1982(July),  The place: the northwest part of the USA.  Spokane County-to be exact- just off the Little Spokane River.  It was a Saturday and two friends of mine had just recently bought a huge old farmhouse on three acres.  I was just a few months past 22.  

I was still a gay hatchling. Mostly new to being out.   I had great arm muscles, a muscled built butt, and legs, a 4 pack stomach, and cock that would get hard  enough to pound 16-penny nails with  a stiff breeze,  

This was the time before Marky Mark, introduced us to white boxer briefs, It was Bruce Weber putting a fresh twist on classic tighty whities with Tom Hintnaus on billboards showing his god-like beauty in basic white Calvin Klein Briefs (The little black dress of gay men.)  Polo and Z14 were the hot scents on men in the know and we all owned a plethora of shirts with alligators biting our nipples. We were dancing to Its Raining Men,  Various HIts by Paul Parker, Laura Brannigan (Gloria) and oh so much much more.

The friends were a high school teacher of mine and his husband.  They became my gay fairy godfathers, guiding me in the ways of gay culture. 

 Seth (the high school teacher) and my gaydar connected on my first day of high school in 1976 as we passed in the Hall of the New 500 wing at a now retired Spokane High School.  

That moment was the first time I became aware of “gaydar”. I had a few pings before, but this was the first time I felt it bury the needle to pin and the pain and pleasure it gives.  

In the 70s we were not able to be openly out yet.  I had worked hard to create a safe place and lifestyle in the school culture.  Being gay is a target for bullying, abuse, and humiliation unless you learn to make the system work for you. I had learned to use all my skills and knowledge to stay safe and in one mostly unbruised piece. 

That first year of high school was a time of a lot of emotion, energy, and exploration.  

Seth and I steered clear of each as much as possible for those three years.  He and I did do several projects together and he taught me a ton about the practical application of art and graphic design and as it turns out provided loving and gentle guidance to my budding hatchling out self. 

So with that background, we spring ahead past my high school graduation, a few years of college, and my mother’s death.  

Mom’s death redirected my life. During this time Seth and Malcolm showed their true blue colors, they were there for me  through Mom’s slow process of dying providing emotional support and guidance 

During my first years of college, I was able to continue my association with my safe place- high school and with Seth being hired back as an adjunct teaching technician by the school district to help with a teaching/coaching shortage in the music fine arts, and biology departments. 

Seth became my department head. I worked primarily with the theater arts programs. I was assigned to teach or co-teach Musical Theater I and II, Play Production, and Theater Science Aka Stage and Make-Up Design II.  I made great bucks and was able to carry on with my pre-med coursework at a local college.

 I taught musical theater and life was good it was extra income. College was great.  Then Mom spiraled, her death took a year and the entire school was aware of it.  My sister was still a high school student, a cheerleader, and a 4.0 student.  I promised her that she could finish high school with her friends, so I was forced to drop out of my premed program to move home and take on rearing my sister…and growing my gay self.   

By this time I had turned 21 and encountered Seth and his husband in one of Spokane’s two gay bars.  As Seth put “At least you waited to be legal to officially come out to me”   

So that background done we proceed with the farm…

Seth and Malcolm were house flippers before the modern term existed. They bought gross properties and made them into modern stunning palaces.  Every project was unique and different and in the end stunning.  Seth and Malcolm were the kings of Salvage, they knew where what, and how to take that which was torn out, cast off, or thrown away and magically give it life again.  10X10 foot skylights from an old sky scratcher, old gym floors sanded and reinstalled (both bought for pennies on the dollar)  Even a baby grand piano for free from a home that had a partial burn down.   I got to participate in several of the projects over the years.  The Farm was my favorite.   

The structure was a working farm built in the early 1900s when Seth and Malcolm got it it was tired and had not had any updating or remodeling for over 3 decades. That was where I and many of their other friends came in. Seth and Malcolm know how to use the resources and skills around them in the gay community. It was there I met Taylor.  Taylor was a few years older than me and an educator at a local community college. He was handsome refined, strong like an ox, and sexy.

Seth and Malcolm called several of us out to help with interior demolishment on the farm, it was dirty, hot, sweaty work.  We met early at 6 am worked hard and got the kitchen stripped to the studs and all the “goop”  in the dumpster by 1 pm.  Our task was accomplished, and we took a break.   Seth and Malcolm paid us in amazing dinners and treats, love and companionship, and the building of community. (someday I will tell you about Boniet Dinners)

The Farm sat on the Little Spokane River and had its wonderful sandy beach flanked by large weeping willows and pasture meadows.  

Seth had packed an amazing picnic for us, complete with the rattan basket, appropriate tablecloth, fine linen napkins, and beautiful soft cashmere blankets. Packed in that basket was an amazing repast with wines, (and real crystal goblets found in the farmhouse attic), amazing bread, sliced meats, cheeses, condiments, and German chocolates from Geno’s International Market. (Spokane’s go-to for the exotic and import fine European gastronomic curiosities of the era)

What I forgot to mention was that all of us were skilled musicians in voice, strings, piano, and brass, and each of us was skilled in multiple instruments.  That said Seth brought down a boom box to the shady beach and in it was a pre-release cassette of the soundtrack to John Barry’s “Somewhere in Time” Mutual friends had helped orchestrate the score and performed on the recording.  This version was longer that the actual released soundtrack.

We all had gotten naked and frolicked in the water to rinse off the dust and grime of the demo of the nearly 100-year-old kitchen… and had settled on the blankets with wine goblets in our hands ( Chateau San Michelle) when Seth started the tape.  Taylor was a skilled symphonic conductor and Ph.D.-level pianist. He was the first to be mesmerized by Barry’s stunning score,

we each fell silent and were soon consumed and vibing to the score. Silent, the emotion of the music spreading between us. When the tape ended all of us had tears of joy and sadness, of emotional release.   

We sat stunned, quiet, and immediately hit replay. 4 naked men on a secluded beach were emotionally engorged. The next thing I knew Seth and Malcolm were making love. This triggered Taylor and me to do the same as our mentors.  Summer outdoor sex is special- It is about the energies of nature, humans, the earth, the sun, the water, and the pheromones.  

Taylor and I  began to explore each other’s bodies. Slowly making out, Passionate, deliberate, to Barry’s luscious score. Warmed up by several glasses of wine, the lovemaking went from making out to unbridled passion.  Taylor and I explored every nook and cranny on our 20-something bodies and the exploration brought forth the passionate love-making sounds that come with a tongue in a dark pink spot before being entered probed and slowly worked to a sweaty froth.  

Taylor and I took turns entering each other and working to near orgasm over and over as the music ebbed and flowed. As the symphonic masterpiece built to its conclusion so did the  4 of us, I lifted  Taylor’s legs high into the air and went down to rewet the tight hole and entered him Taylor moaned, We hear Seth whimper as Malcolm has him in the same position.  Malcolm and I enter our partners at the same time and slowly synchronize dto the bass rhythm of Barry’s iconic score, 

Malcolm and I percussing into partners at the same speed and timing, our partners panting and groaning at that point I realized that Seth and Taylor were holding hands and that Malcolm and I were touching each other’s feet – an electric energy circuit of sexual energy driven by a musical score. Strings, percussion, winds, and brass build us to a dramatic and huge climax.  

 I felt Taylor tighten around my turgid cock, his sweet ass ring convulsing, breathing louder and harder, his rigid hot cock throbbing against my belly…Seth was the first to cum with a loud baritone yell, followed almost immediately by Malcolm’s bass, and then almost in conducted precision Taylor and I cum together simultaneously- my baritone and his tenor proclamation of orgasm. All the while we all continued touching and the tape ended. All that is missing is the audience applause for the stunning musical, sexual energy, and physical performance. 

Malcolm and I stayed in our respective bottoms- all of us wet with sweat from passion and hot July heat and humidity. We were content, relaxed, complete. Several minutes later we all rolled apart but still touching. We were all exhausted, the rut and heat of summer satisfied. Mellowed, -all relaxed.

By this time the sun was starting to set, we looked at our watches and found we had been on the beach for over 5 hours or about 4 auto repeats of the Somewhere in Time soundtrack.  

We decided we had better wash off the afternoons’ pleasures in the river.  Seth changed the tape to Donna Summer’s Last Dance for some “washing-up” music.  

As happens the July warmth, waning light of early evening, and 4 men chest-deep in warm water we end up triggering another round of rock-hard erections …this time Malcolm and I bracing up each other in the warm flowing water as our mates take us…I hear Malcolm gasp and feel his grip as Seth’s 8 inches enter him and Malcolm hears my yelp and feels my grasp as Taylor slides his 7 inches of mushroom-headed cock into my tight ass and starts pounding to the driving rhythm of Donna summer. 

Malcolm reaches down and starts jacking my cock and I reach for him, I feel Taylor biting the back of my neck, grabbing my nipple pinching hard, and whispering to me to clench, release, clench, hold it,  harder, hold it- a maestro conducting a sexual score and all too soon I feel Taylor’s cock growing hotter and harder in my ass, his breathing coming faster and harder. Malcolm and I are pulling each other’s cocks faster and harder to the thumping disco beat of Donna Summer. I feel Taylors throbbing cock and the heat building in my balls –the orgasm is evident, Taylor starts speeding up, and Malcolm’s cock head is throbbing harder in my hand. Malcolm’s breathing is faster and  I hear him let out a loud grunt and moan, I feel the hot splash of genes sperm in my hand against the cooler river water, and with that, I explode. My ass clamping down on Taylor’s thick cock.  I feel Taylor release into me.  The hot warm gush and throbbing inside my ass…and his groan, grunt, and long sigh. Round two is complete. we all look up at each other and lock eyes and laugh in joy, comradely, friendship. and Love. 

We finally got out of the water all four of us satiated, tired, fulfilled, and locked in a bond that has lasted decades.

Malcolm and Seth are still together, in their mid-80s, Taylor is still alive and musically active and I am nearing full retirement. We have all reminisced over that magical day…Every time I hear Somewhere in Time my heart beats faster…I wonder why….

Gulf Breeze

Randi was a girl with beautiful pale green eyes you had to look for through her thick dark rimmed glasses. She was using the Seaswirl for dives. The Seaswirl was on a trailer behind the garage at Harry’s house. Reginald towed the boat to the marina boat ramp and then returned to pick it up on days Randi went diving.

Ivan, seeing Reginald trying to get the boat into the water, went to help and he met Randi. With so much going on at the marina, Ivan gave no more thought to the meeting. He didn’t mention it to me.

In the afternoon, when Randi returned from her dive, Taggart went out to put the Seaswirl back on the trailer. He suggested Reginald leave the Seaswirl on the trailer behind the new Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop and Ivan or he would put the boat in and take it out of the water on days when Randi was scheduled to dive.

Reginald love the idea.

*****

On Wednesday I called a meeting for my employees. I wanted to describe what I did, what they’d do, and how Harry would depend on us to deliver him information he used to get new laws passed.

Our business was exploring, documenting, and seeking answers to the question that came from our activities. I complimented Randi on her notes and asked her to transcribe mine into English. Harry was right, the idea thrilled her.

Like most people, Randi and Jack weren’t aware of how stressed waterways were. They understood bodies of water needed to be protected from people doing business on or near water. The details had them asking questions and I answered them. I suggested that on Wednesday, for a while, the three of us would meet at the conservancy and discuss questions that might have come up, ideas they had, and plan our schedule.

I usually went diving Tuesday and Thursday. I’d try not to assign any tasks that needed supervision from me on those days. I was sure reading would offer both of them new insights into marine biology. They could read the books in the conservancy library or look at files.

I explained Bill Payne’s description of what we did.

“We are the canaries in the coal mine.”

“We are here to make people aware of the damage being done by careless corporations and ignorant lazy people who saw any body of water as a good place to dump anything. It was true. Individuals did nearly as much damage as companies.

“If you and I were the only ones dumping garbage in the water, it wouldn’t be much of a problem. When large numbers of people decide to dump their garbage in our waterways, not to mention old tires, spent washers and dryers, cars, boats, it’s worse than ugly. They can turn a nice waterfront property into a dump site in less time than it takes to say, ‘fresh water.’ Then add chemicals, oil, fertilizers, insecticides, etc., etc., etc. You have a witches’ brew of poison poisoning the environment. It isn’t just ugly or untidy. It’s dangerous to things that live there from tiny microbes to massive whales, and in the end if we don’t stop it, it will threaten mans’ ability to survive.”

“What do you do about people using waterways for dumps?” Randi asked.

“Our best tool is shame, and believe me when I say, someone tossing a bag of garbage out of the car on a bridge, and into the water below, isn’t easy to shame. We need to recruit help. Every time someone goes to the beach, they need to pick up after themselves and after the slob who left his garbage behind. If we aren’t willing to do a little extra, the beaches we love will become dumps,” I said.

“Always leave your campsite better than you found it,” Jack said. “I was a boy scout. It’s the first lesson you learn about camping.”

“We need to turn everyone into a boy scout,” I said. “If everyone helps, our job would be a lot easier,” I said.

“People who witness other people dumping anything need to take note of pertinent facts. Anything that identifies the culprits and turn it over to local authorities. There are laws against the dumping of waste into waterways. The Clean Water Act covers all bodies of water.”

“Our job is to sound the alarm. Advise people of the damage being done. Recruit them to be observant and in that way help to keep our environment clean. If it only gets more people cleaning up after themselves, it helps cut down on the garbage. Once people know other people are paying attention to their bad behavior, they’ll clean up their act.“

“Where do we start?” Jack asked.

“We’ve already started. Congressman Harry McCallister was instrumental in passing the Clean Water Act. It’s against the law to use waterways as a dumping ground. No one is enforcing the law and the fines are less than the cost of disposing of waste responsibly. We can hope law enforcement joins the fight,” I said. “With more people comes more garbage. If we don’t get dumping under control soon, we’ll pay an increasingly higher price later on,” I said.

“Leaving a place better than we found it isn’t just a good idea, it’s the way to preserve the beauty people take for granted today. Because its getting out of control, we need to work twice as hard,” I said. “What else?” Jack asked. “I want to have a feel for the problem.”

“You both can read The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson. She wrote other books. Silent Spring is her best known work, but The Sea Around Us should be the marine biologist’s handbook,” I said. “Her books are in our library at the conservancy. On days when you find you have time on your hands, I’ll make a blanket rule, read the books in our library. They’re relevant to the work we do.

*****

Randi had been to the reef Bill first took me to for my underwater baptism. He gave us our basic instructions about being a marine biologist there. Randi found my notes on the early dives and she’d gone to take a look. Randi was going to be a big help.

Jack wasn’t a diver and he hadn’t been taught by the new breed of marine biologists, heavy on the marine. He had his degree and he was caught between the old way of doing things and the new and more exciting version, where we dive to see the things we talk about.

I’d bring Jack along slowly. I would continue to do most of the diving and teach Randi and Jack what I learned from each dive. If they were going to be of value, they had to learn how I did things and why they were done that way.

Jack wasn’t particularly excited by the idea of going on dives. I knew of no marine biologist who hadn’t been awestruck once taking his first dive. After a few dives, Jack would be sorry he hadn’t done it sooner.

*****

I ordered diving equipment for Jack through Ivan’s shop. When I went to place the order, Ivan was busy placing a spear gun beside the double air tanks on each side of his main display behind the counter. There were sinister looking fish on the green background of the display.

“Who drew the fish?” I asked.

“Moi,” Ivan said. “You didn’t know I had a little Picasso in me, did you?”

“Very little,” I said.

“You do know how to hurt a guy. I spent all day yesterday drawing those fish,” Ivan said.

“What kind of fish are they?” I asked, as he was writing the order for Jack’s diving equipment. “I know a little about the fish in these waters and I must confess, I don’t recognize your fish.”

“Big fish! Very big fish! You’d want a spear gun if you encountered one of my fish.”

I laughed.

It was the first time I’d seen a spear gun up close. I wouldn’t want to get caught standing in front of one.

“You’re working on the dock?” I said. “I hear noise.”

“Yes, I’ve got a crew that comes in the morning. We’ll have twenty-four slips when we’re done. With my fishing boat at the end of the dock, pointing toward the cove entrance, makes twenty-five slip.”

“You going to fill them up?”

“I am. Harry wants a slip for the Seaswirl. I suggested it after telling him how Reginald towing it around and it needing to be put in and taken out of the water, a slip would save all that that wasted time and effort. I offered him a good price too,” he said. “It’s my special family rate. You get that rate on Sea Lab.”

“How much is a good price?” I asked.

“Free. I’m not charging Harry for a slip. If not for Harry I might not be here planning to turn the cove into a vacation mecca,” he said. “I might not be doing anything anywhere.”

“He was that important? He never gave me anything in the way of details about your situation. He had a few stories about his involvement in your situation. He sure didn’t say anything that made me feel good about you being in Southeast Asia.”

“There are things about the Company you don’t talk about. Clandestine activities being among those. They don’t take kindly to people who reveal their secrets. You don’t want the Company mad at you if you’re working with a full deck.”

“This is still America, isn’t it?” I asked too seriously.

“It is. They don’t have authority to work in the U.S.”

“And that stops them how?” I asked.

“If I knew, honey bun, I couldn’t tell you,” Ivan said. “The walls have ears, you know. I did my time and I don’t want to do any more.”

“The guys that held you in that cage, were they C.I.A., Ivan?”

“I’m not sure who they were. Guys like that don’t give you their business card. I figure they were freelancing. They weren’t American. Remnants of a group that worked inside of Vietnam and reported to the Company. Your typical assets. They were loyal to the U.S. After we pulled our troops out of Vietnam, they were some of the assets we left behind to keep an eye on the Vietnamese.”

“Help them make a smooth transition to power I bet,” I said facetiously.

“I wouldn’t bet on anything that goes on in Southeast Asia,” he said. “I lived there for five years and I still don’t know what’s going on there.”

“It sounds like you are better off not knowing too much about people who think it’s OK to run someone else’s country,” I said.

“I don’t think they think it’s OK. Someone told someone this is what you’ll be doing, and the people being told go about doing what they’ve been told to do if they’re smart. No thinking involved.”

“How long before the new shop is done?” I asked, not wanting to know any more about the people who held him prisoner. I was having a good day and being depressed wasn’t what I wanted to do before getting out in the Gulf.

“The walls will be up after Thanksgiving. I’ll order the roofing once the walls are done. It takes time to get it delivered. It’ll come out of Atlanta. We don’t have room to leave it sitting out in the parking lot,” he said.

“Yeah, where would I park,” I said.

“We’ll put the roof on as per whatever schedule Taggart is happy with. My guess is it’ll be January before the roof is on. Then, I’ll order the glass for the windows and the door. Can’t have them sitting around waiting to be broken. We’ll have a crew here to install them once the glass arrives. The interior will take a month if Taggart has finished with the wiring for electricity. Then we’ll be done. Maybe March or April before the doors are ready to open for business.”

“It’s the third week in October. Three to four months,” I said.

“We’ll need to consider the weather conditions. We might lose a day here and there to bad weather,” he said.

“Wait until they see the new shop,” I said.

“December we’ll be waiting for the roofing. Like I said, it wasn’t bad after the first month. Before that, right after I left Florida, I was roaming the country, talking to men who served with Boris, and I was getting involved with the anti war people. They were the key to me getting into Southeast Asia.”

*****

The next morning I went to the cove to see what progress they’d made on the new shop and to see if Ivan had time to help me with Sea Lab.

I parked the car near the Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop. No one was working. Tag wouldn’t be home from school for several hours. They’d probably work until dark, which put Ivan home for dinner.

Before going into the Bait Shop, I walked around the shop that was under construction. The walls about halfway built. The structure looked solid and able to weather most storms.

When I turned to go into the Bait Shop, a new window had replaced the small yellowed plastic window you couldn’t see out of. It made it easier to see the items on display inside. There were wet suits displayed behind the counter and tandem air tanks were mounted on the back wall on each side of the display. There were flippers, face masks, with surfboards on each side of the SCUBA tanks. It was an enticing display with a go-jump-in-the-gulf theme.

I backed up from the new window to look at the Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop sign before going inside.

“Hey, sailor, can I interest you in the latest we have in the way of SCUBA diving equipment?” Ivan asked, turning when the bell mounted above the door rang.

“Yes, you can. Actually, I need help untying the Sea Lab. Harold, from the coast guard helped me tie it up so it wouldn’t take down your dock in the storm. There’s a forty pound anchor on the nose. I need to return it to Harold at coast guard headquarters.”

“Quite thoughtful of him. Do I have competition for your affections? You didn’t come to get me to help you secure Sea Lab?”

“Harold’s a child. He took me to some reefs he wanted me to know about. He picked me up behind the house and we came to the Sea Lab where I had my diving equipment,” I said.

“Was a time when I was the only one you let pick you up behind your house,” Ivan said.

“Not so much for the last ten years you didn’t, cowboy,” I said. “You were going to tell me about your escapades in Southeast Asia as I recall. I’m still waiting for that story,” I said. “You had to be somewhere doing something for all those years.”

“You said you didn’t want Dylan to hear about it until he was older. It’s not a story I’m going to tell twice, Clay. There are parts of that period that still give me nightmares. I’ll dredge it up once. It will stir up bad memories doing it even once, but I’ll do it for you, because you need to know where I was and what I did.”

“You think Dylan is old enough to hear the details?” I asked.

“Yes, but I thought that after I got to know him. You said you didn’t want him hearing any bad things that happened to me.”

“Can’t you get Dylan to go for sodas when you come to a spot you don’t think he’s mature enough to hear?” I asked.

“That might work. It’s not a one evening story you tell over a tub of popcorn,” Ivan said. “It’s long, complicated, and I’m not certain I’m ready to go there. While you’re worried about Dylan being old enough to hear what I have to say, I don’t know I’m old enough. At least I don’t know if I’m ready.”

We stood across the counter from each other. October had come to the cove but someone forgot to turn the heat down.

It always got warmer when I was face to face with Ivan.

*****

Ivan walked down the dock with me and when we reached Sea Lab he began unfastening the nearest line. I helped by taking the tension off the line. When he moved to the next line, there was now plenty of slack. I went forward to bring in Harold’s anchor. The nose of the boat was nearly centered in the slip. The weight on her nose kept the bow of Sea Lab in place.

“I better get back,” Ivan said. “Anything else before I go?”

“No. Thanks. I won’t be gone long. I won’t stay long at Harold’s headquarters.

Going to the bridge I turned the ignition and pressed the start button. The Detroit diesels hummed to life. There was no sound like it. They purred pure power. With the added weight in the labs on two decks, Harry wanted to be over powered rather than under powered. He made sure Sea Lab was powered with the biggest Detroit marine engines available for a forty foot boat.

I eased the throttle forward, maintaining the 5mph speed restriction inside the cove. Sea Lab hadn’t been out since I took the final slides on my reef. Keeping the speed down on her first trip out in some time would be the plan. Let her engine be lubricated and eased into working mode.

At the entrance to the Gulf, I pushed the throttle to quarter speed. We’d maintain eight to ten miles an hour for the fifteen minute trip to Harold’s headquarters.

The gauges said everything was normal. The sound told me the same thing. Easy does it on this trip. My next trip would be to the sunken freighter. That’s when I’d open up Sea Lab’s power plants to three quarter speed.

First I needed to acquaint my employees with our operation. It would be a couple of weeks before I’d be going back to diving twice a week. I might get one dive in with careful planning. I really wanted to see the sunken freighter up close and alone.

Something caught my eye to the right. It was right beside the bridge but down in the water. I checked behind me, nothing. I looked from side to side, nothing. As I looked back toward Sea Lab’s bow, a porpoise leaped out of the water crossing Sea Lab’s bow.

“Wow! How cool was that.”

I saw more movement to port. There was another porpoise …and another, and two more on the starboard side. Two more porpoises crossed my bow. They were matching Sea Lab’s speed. They passed me to leap in front of the boat.

After double checking to be sure nothing was in my path, I stepped onto the catwalk that ran in front of the bridge. It was just me and my escort. There were eleven. Five were on the port side and six were to starboard. I had a creature escort to welcome me back to the sea. I had chills.

I held the catwalk railing and leaned forward to breathe the fresh sea air. Harry was right. Under the usual fragrance of the Gulf hung a newer and fresher smell. Like the Gulf had been scrubbed clean.

They stayed with me for the rest of the trip. Once I began to slow to turn into the dock, they swam on.

What a magnificent return. Was that a good sign or what?

I told Harold about it while he was walking me through the headquarters and showing me the pictures of Sea Lab mounted on the walls of the longest hallway. Two were from the air and a half dozen more were taken on the water from a distance.

How cool was that.

“You see, we’re not the only ones happy to see you back where you belong. Don’t underestimate the intelligence of the dolphin family. I bet they recognized the boat just like we do.”

“I’m a marine biologist, Harold,” I said.

He laughed.

“Imagine me explaining sea creatures to you,” he said, still chuckling.

It was a fruitful trip. I got copies of the pictures of Sea Lab for our walls at the conservancy. They’d be added to the ones already there. Harold gave me a small copy of the larger map that hung in the office of the commander. Harold marked where the most promising shipwrecks were with compass settings for each location.

I couldn’t wait to see how many of them hosted a reef.

I was there for forty minutes and a bit disappointed my escort had gone on without me.

It made me smile when I replayed it in my brain.

*****

I grew up doing what needed to be done. It wasn’t unusual for me to work six days a week and some weeks seven days. It wasn’t like doing physical labor. The work fascinated me and some days I didn’t want to leave work. It wasn’t hard work but there comes a time when routine becomes drudgery.

Harry understood the concept. He knew recharging your batteries from time to time is a wise move. In the end it would make for a better and a more dedicated marine biologist.

After ten years, I deserved time away from my work.

I was giddy over being back where I belonged.

Having Jack and Randi meant delegating responsibility to allow me to do more of the things I loved doing.

*****

The Sea Lab was mine.

I didn’t intend to allow my help to go out on her if I wasn’t on the bridge. It was too big and too important to the business of the conservancy to put in anyone’s hands but mine and Harry’s. It was Harry’s conservancy.

The Sea Lab belonged to the conservancy as I belonged to the conservancy. It was instrumental in making my word the be all and end all on the Gulf of Mexico. It helped to make me better informed on the condition of the Gulf than other marine biologists.

Trusting Randi or Jack with the keys wasn’t in the cards.

I’d give them all the attention they needed to make them secure in their employment. If I took them out on Sea Lab, they’d be passengers.

When I wasn’t on the Sea Lab making dives, I was at work in one of her labs with the more sophisticated magnifying capabilities and better viewing devices for slide shows. I would introduce the help to the equipping the conservancy laboratory didn’t have.

*****

The space next to mine at the far end of the original slips was open while the dock was under construction. I told Ivan how easy it was backing Sea Lab into her spot without a boat on each side.

“Ivan, can you move Sea Lab to the end of the new slips? By putting the Seaswirl in the last slip on the outside? That way it won’t be such a tight squeeze for me to back Sea Lab into her space.”

“The slips are all the same size. If I put Seaswirl in the last slip, I can knock off a couple of feet of her slip’s width and give them to Sea Lab. That will give you a couple of extra feet to work with,” Ivan said.

“That works for me,” I said, happy I’d no long break out in a sweat when I backed in between two full sized boats. “Will that increase the rate for the slip?”

“I should double it. What’s two times free?” Ivan asked.

“I think you’re going to pay me to park my boat,” I said.

“If that’s the case, would I get better perks?”

*****

Standing behind Sea Lab, the new Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop sat on the rise overlooking the marina. It was in front of the parking lot and beside the boat ramp. You couldn’t miss it from the dock. It was easy to see from the highway. The sign was big and easy to read.

Ivan’s charter boat was usually at the end of the dock. They moved it once they construction on extending the dock started. Ivan anchored it next to where Popov’s fishing fleet anchored until the work was done. The rest of the boats parked parallel to the shore. The Sea Lab’s slip wasn’t in the way of the construction.

I still doubted the cove could become a vacation haven Ivan spoke about. Since I arrived the cove was a fishing village with a picturesque gateway to the Gulf of Mexico.

I knew well its fishing roots and seeing past what had always been there was a reach for me. Ivan’s plan wasn’t complicated. He’d work his ass off to give visitors access to a beach on the cove side and access to the Gulf where the cove ended. Once you did that, the possibilities were endless.

Hearing him talk, he seemed to expect the habits of vacationers to change. Instead of a fast paced lively getaway, he thought people were soon going to look for less stressful ways to vacation.

I knew you couldn’t get much more relaxing than SCUBA diving. It was what my job required me to do. It’s what I did when I wanted to leave my cares behind me. I certainly didn’t have a grueling schedule, but I did my best thinking on dives.

I did my best not to say anything negative about Ivan’s plan. He was home and in my bed most nights. He seemed happy. I wanted him to succeed and I would do whatever he needed me to do to help him. I’d even lay bricks if he needed me to do that.

If he needed me to lay bricks, he was in big trouble.

*****

Ivan would be able to keep his eye on the marina from the new shop. It sat next to the boat ramp on one side and next to the stairs leading from the parking lot to the dock on the other side. Just beyond the boat ramp was where Ivan would build his beach.

It was ambitious. It was very ambitious. If Ivan asked me if he should put a shop in front of the parking lot on the rise next to the boat ramp, I’d have said no. The hill would make it hard to get to.

Where he was building it was perfect. I’d look forward to going to the shop for the view it offered. Finding Ivan where the view was wouldn’t hurt my feelings any.

With Popov giving his blessing to Ivan’s plan, nothing stood in his way. Ivan was dedicated to his vision. With Popov reaching sixty, he’d be passing the responsibility for the cove on soon. Ivan was like a son to Popov and his plan was perfect. Turning over the cove to Ivan’s vision would make Popov’s life easier.

With me in the Gulf and Ivan on the hill overlooking the cove, I was seeing a bright future for us. We were involved in making our futures mean something special. The years ahead of us looked good.

No one makes up for lost time, but you can make the best of the time you have. I hoped we’d make it the time of our lives.

I did my best to be helpful while Ivan built his dream. My best thing was making sure he stayed well fed. I went home most days for lunch and after I was well fed, I took Ivan whatever Mama fixed. I left enough time to be at the conservancy for an hour or more each afternoon, but I had my priorities straight, getting Ivan fed first.

We’d been talking about offering dives on one of the better known reefs in the area, but Ivan was still getting his feet wet running the marina and building the new shop.

I told him I’d find a way to take out divers once a week. I could thank Harry for that. With help at the conservancy, my time was my own. If taking divers out helped Ivan accomplish what he’d set out to do, I’d take out the divers. No one knew the places to dive in the Gulf better than I did.

Sometimes you can have doubts and still feel something is right. I suppose anything Ivan did was OK by me, as long as he did it close to me.

Life definitely took a turn for the better by late 1979.

*****

Note: I apologize to all my regular readers and also to those writers that I regularly read and comment on, I’ve been laid up with a serious falling accident requiring surgery and a great deal of pain. I tried to comment and read some of those stories and I have a lot of catching up to do. I’d like to thank everyone who reached out to me in private emails and comments, (many of you also commented on Lil Guys chapter 34 of “The Village” updating some of you). It is so heartwarming that this “community” that’s been built on this site, cared enough to reach out to me at this time of being laid up. Thank You all ever so much!

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 Now onto part 2 of a story you’ve all been asking for.

Review: Our main character signed up for a dating app in chapter 1 and received a series of photos and movies making him fantasize, he sent him a reply email before going to bed, now will he get the chance to meet up with this anonymous person.

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 It was a Dating App for Hookups part 2

 I awoke the next morning to a message in my anonymous inbox, I sat there trying to decide to click on it, I just couldn’t do it for fear of what awaited behind the computer screen, as my hand gingerly moved that arrow to the tag line and I finally unconsciously clicked it open.

 There in full screen glorious glory, was a high definition close up photo of that precious dick, that I’ve cravingly jerked myself into ecstasy for the past 24 hours, the wrinkly smooth ball sack with a limp dick folded slightly over to one side with a well defined pink head ring basing the smooth spongy mushroom head as if at rest, just awaiting my sensitive touch to waken it. I could just picture it slowly rising as it came to attention and the skin sliding along its stretching shaft as it lengthens and fattens immensely. Here I am fantasizing myself into a frenzy over a still photograph, I even imagined that soft smooth ass crack behind that velvety smooth scrotum filled with voluptuous walnut sized balls.

 Now I moved cautiously onto the body of the email, yes there was actually words to read, I forced myself to scroll the photo up out of my site with my right mouse hand as I adjusted my crotch with the other hand. I not only adjusted it, I found myself stroking it as that photo slowly scrolled up and out of site. Now his greeting:

 Loved your photos

Would love to meet you in person

Hope you enjoyed my videos

Oh and my real name is Christopher, if you wish to pursue further (and I hope you do) here is my real email for offsite contact and phone number, for possibly more, maybe drop me a text.

Chris

 Could this be real? I thought, and with that I quickly entered and saved his number to my phone, as I continued to scroll upward to what was another surprising still photo, this time my wish was granted, just as I had imagined, was his hard, bursting at the seams dick, gripped in his fist in the upward jerk, raising those balls up high enough, to expose that nice lower entrance crevasse, gently disappearing into the darkness of shadow. I was so overcome now that I somehow had my dick completely out of my trousers and my right fist wrapped around tightly as I jerked repeatedly up and down, raising my shirt tails up over my abs so as not to obstruct my own view, as I not only watched myself in all my glory but this high definition still photo on the screen, with some blurring of his fist, obviously in full fast thriving motion. I sprayed myself shortly after with a jism eruption after eruption, as my chin sunk deeper into my chest, and I bit my bottom lip and barely remained conscious while my eyes closed over in pleasure, as I relaxed every single muscle in my body and collapsed in my own sweat. I just had one of the best sexual orgasms of my life, as a result from my brains enactment of two still photos in my email.

 Just then I realized that unfortunately my fantasy may be better than the real thing. I closed my laptop and picked up my phone and hit the dial button. Here I am, not answering the email, not dropping him a text, I just outright called him. Will he answer? How will he know it’s even me? Do I leave a message if he doesn’t? All these thoughts traveling 100 miles an hour through my mind when a voice on the other end says “Hello, this is Chris, I hope this might be you who I’ve been waiting for, is it?” I was taken a back and remained silent for a moment when I drew enough courage to answer “I hope I am, are you the guy in the video and pictures that I’ve been lusting for?” He replied “ oh stop it” we giggled and the tension was gone, we began speaking as old friends would, we were comfortable with one another, holy crap, this can’t be real can it? We made a date for dinner Friday night at an upscale restaurant in his town.

 I spent hours dressing on Friday, I cleaned myself up inside and out, over and under, I made sure I wore the sexiest stuff I could find, just in case. I ubered to the destination in hopes he would offer to bring me home or hopefully better, take me to his home. The restaurant overlooked the bay, I saw him seated with his back toward me staring out at the small waves on the water. His tailored shirt fit him just perfect as he stood to shake my hand on my approach. His smile, his blue eyes, his hips, the way the slight bulge barely showing in his crotch, as we sat and exchanged niceties, and as we began to know one another. The whole time I can only see him in his naked beauty and wondered what he saw in me that made him go the extra mile to reel me in the most sensual way possible. For I knew what was under those designer clothes, and I could only hope to touch, and pursue it, in all its glory for real. We ate, we drank, we enjoyed each other’s company, this can’t be all true as I pinched myself several times hoping it wasn’t just my vivid imagination.

 So far I thought my previous visual encounters couldn’t be topped, but all signs seemed to say I was wrong so far. After dinner we walked the boardwalk, as we continued to get to know one another, then in the moonlight, we stopped he turned toward me, and planted a respectful kiss on my cheek. I lusted so bad for this moment in my dry dating life, that I instinctively reached over his shoulder and drew him in closer to my embrace as I returned his kiss to his lips. We were both “in” at that point, and I’m not sure who did what, but our tongues were soon intermingled in each other’s warm moist mouth. We broke apart as he asked me back to his place. Arm in arm we walked to his car where he opened the passenger door for me, and we made the short drive back to his condo. I placed my hand on his warm pant leg as he shifted into 6th gear and we roared down the highway as if we were in a hurry to get to our destination.

 He unlocked the door and lead me in, as he flipped on the light behind him. The condo was well furnished, and obviously expensively, when I focused on that one wooden stool that caught my eye and Stood out. That was the stool that his naked ass was sitting on during those movies and still photos. I walked towards it as I slid my fingers and palm across the top of it. He watched me grabbing his package through his slacks, obviously in adjustment and approached me for an all out kiss, as he grabbed the back of my head with both hands sinking his tongue into my throat and he pushed me to sit onto that stool, and his hardening crotch began grinding into mine. I worked my fingers under his chin and began unbuttoning his shirt. He was soon bare chested, as my hands slid across his pecks, over the rigidly hard nipples, Under his arms  and the finally rested on his back as I drew his chest into mine in a loving hug. His hands dropped to my back as they slid into my waistband, I could feel his fingers touching the naked smooth skin on the top of my ass as he would soon see those red Andrew Christian briefs from my original photo shoot that I chose to wear tonight. 

 I peeled his shirt, and dropped it to the floor as he stood me up and practically dragged me to the bedroom. He carefully sat me on the plump hard mattress and began removing my shirt, as our naked torsos wrapped naturally into one another, his ever tightening crotch now humping my knee as we still were exploring each other’s faces and necks with our repeated and returning kisses. His skin was so sweet and tasty then he continued to push me down and his mouth explored my chest. As he nibbled on my left tit, I feel my belt and pants becoming less restrictive, as he so smoothly was able to free and remove them without ever stopping his mouths exploration. Before I knew it he was lapping around my navel, and with his fingers teasing me under the waistband as he gently peeled it back. Now I’m not going to lie, my own dick was pushing itself up to meet his fingers as I looked down on his gorgeous hair and my overly pink dick head poking through those red briefs, when he began gnawing at my hard velvety spongy head, as he slobbered his spit all around, those gently tinklining teeth were pressing the skin of my dick between his teeth and tongue and lips. Before I knew it my red briefs were gone and out of the way, and my engorged member was fully engulfed as his thumbs gently massaged my thighs just under my ball sack on each side and his fingers pressed firmly into my hips, his slightly whiskered chin grazed my ball sack with each encounter that was by no means rhythmic yet, as his goal was to make this night last forever, which was totally fine by me.

 I decided to take control as I grabbed him and flipped us over, and I ravaged his willingly otherwise relaxed body, eventually removing all his clothes as I buried my face into his crevasse under his balls, and I continued pushing his legs back up into his chest. My man meat was bursting at its seams like an overstuffed pillow in a pillowcase that was too small. My tongue lapped at the sweet darkness of each concealed in their own shadows, ass cheeks, where it eventually rested on that overly slippery and saliva soaked tightly shut rose bud hole, as my tongue gently kept poking in further and back, until it worked its magical key like acrobatics, eventually opening the door, his muscles that continually wanted to squeeze back down on it, as I slid it in and out trying my best to retrieve enough saliva to moisten its next passageway into the darkness, and I could almost feel the moaning of my subject through his tender ass membranes.

 I finally couldn’t resist any longer as I pushed his knees into his chest, and stood beside the bed lining my massive, over anxious impact tool, with that tunnel hole, deciding how to attack its subject to increase the diameter as quickly and painlessly as possible. I began by pressing my spongy but firm dick head against the still wet hole, and brought my chest and waist against the backs of his legs, while my hands were firmly pulling them into me and my clenched tight ass sent more blood to the ever anxious tip strengthening it for its final assault.  The head slipped through the ring slowly, and a sigh of relief or pleasure escaped from his mouth. I forcibly pressed my weight against the backs of his legs pushing them further into his chest as my thickened member slowly slid in further and further until my thighs were pressed firmly against his spasms cheeks. 

 I now had him where I wanted him and vice versa for that matter, as I waited patiently and reached my arms around his back and he grabbed my back in a tightening hug, as if clamping my dick inside his hole ever so tightly, where we briefly rested before I began my first slow short withdrawal, as each stroke continued thereafter, the strokes became longer and quicker until each stroke was exiting and rendering its full length barely almost escaping, but that dick refused to pop out, as if it wanted more each time. Eventually the slapping sound of my thighs to his ass cheeks made a sweaty slapping sound with each stroke completion, topped off by a slight grunt from his mouth, it was a happy grunt of pleasure as he locked his eyes onto mine and we rocked our pleasure away. By now my abdomen was pressing his stone hard balls in his soft ball sack into his pelvic bone as his still ever hard dick was bouncing up and down within each stroke on his abdomen. He quickly dug his fingers into my back as he freehandedly began spewing his spunky load between us. That did it for me, as the swift aroma of freshly brewed cum filled my nostrils. My quickening penetrations began to thicken in my shaft as my balls seemed to retract in preparation for expelling their load of fluids, further lubricating the slip sliding action between my outer skin and his inner membranes, as I continued until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

 I collapsed in exhaustion into his quickly softening body as he began to release his tenuous grip on me, his inner chambers either relaxed, or my dick began shrinking, allowing a soft yet still very moist release from his body, as it seemed to nestle into a warm spot between his plump ass cheeks and upper thigh, where we just stayed and enjoyed each other momentarily. and I felt the still warm fluids begin to drizzle out as they ran between my softened limp dick shaft, balls and his skin down to the wet spot on the sheets below. We broke apart and lay next to one another after a long thankful kiss. 

 Tonight we didn’t just have a sexual encounter, we made love between us as we both participated in each other’s extreme pleasure. We spent hours exploring one another. And damn it was one hell of a first date but before we were done that night we knew each other intimately inside and out. We were a perfect match in more ways than we knew. He not only blew me, he blew our minds as many more nights of pleasure followed. As of this day we are still living our happily ever after, and we don’t see an end in sight. Oh yeah we both deleted our profiles quickly after that first encounter, and Rebbeca, well she thinks she’s fully responsible for everything. My lover Chris and I often watch that original movie whenever either of us isn’t in the mood and any doubts are soon erased as we fuck away into the night right after, oh hell we rarely ever get to finish the movie.

All my life i thought I was straight. Although I knew I get aroused by seeing sexy body. Watching steamy scenes always made me hard n hot. I often diverted my attention toward the female in the scene imagining myself in the place of the guy. I would often think how I would make my women scream like the guy is doing in the scene how i will kiss her, how I will fuck her in different positions n all. About me I am Sam 29 year old, 5.10 guy with body weight of 70kgs. I m Buffy guy, muscled up but not lean, now people call me I have some dad bod.

I started having sex when I was 17 year old with a neighbour girl who was 20 at that time, she told my my sweaty tanned body aroused her. Later I had sex with different girls of various age group. Oh I forgot to tell i have a thick 8 inch cock which prety big for my native standards. Once my ex told her friend about my size n when we broke up, n straight forward asked me to for the favour. Apart from girls I often got hit by guys n I was pretty dumb to understand but everyone around me were aware of it. I am very jolly good and charming in nature so I often use to unknowingly confuse guys n girls about my intentions. But constant presence of gfs in my life acted as repellent to guys.

Arround 2016 I was living with my then gf in th studio appartment. And one day we invited several of her coworker for dinner. Among those one guy” we will call him F ” n girl ” S ” was constantly checking me out. At that time I used to be well build n leaned with nice chest n toned body. I m hairy guy n my trainer told me to be well trimmed n groomed, so I use to trim my hairy body, but stil hairy was quite visible. That night I was wearing my pinkish white shirt which becomes quite transparent after sweating. So my hairy body was quite visible through my see through shirt. My gf loved to watch me like this. N showing me around. That night My GF Mandy introduced me to F and S they seamed nice n both complemented me for my looks n body, F said to me he liked my bearded n he want to grow someday like me but he doesn’t get enough growth. While S joked that she might have grown like me but not possible for her now.

About S whe was petite as fuck perfect boobs 5.5 height waist so thin n. Flat n tanned silky hairs n as that I can fuck like hell. I was in between them n my gf n I was watching both GF’s n S’s cleavage and I was getting bit hard.but i diverted my self when I went with my gf in th kitchen she told me “I saw the erection while you were looking at S’s boobs” 

“No I didn’t “.

“Chill it’s ok”

I got scared after this n stayed away from S. Rest of the party was good, we had fun and did the paper dance. But this time my gf coupled up people randomly. I thought she n I will pe paired in last but she told me she will play the music so she can’t dance with me. I said ok I will not play then as there are no girl left for me to be paired up. She said why don’t you paired up with F. I was bit hesitant but then she gave the wildest kiss n put on the show for others. She even bit me n blood started dripping from my lower lips. But I knew my nymphomaniac wild crazy girlfriend. Me n F  got ready for the dance.

About paper dance game, in this game a paper is layed on the floor n couple start to dance once the song get shuffled people fold their paper into half n dance again. And this goes on with every shuffle of song. And the last one standing wins the game.

We were ready n F saw the blood dripping from my lips n he said “dude what happen to ur lips” he touched my lips n the tasted my blood to find out it’s blood.

Dude press ur lips together and it will stop. About F he seams to be nice, humble n friendliest guy. Shorter n thiner than me he must have been in his early twenties. We started dancing n we were winning the game although we had to adjust on small paper but we were doing fine, as the area of paper shrinked I was almost taking F’s weight on me. He later hugged me tight for stability. In last round, Me and F were there and S and this hunk friend of my gf was there. This time I carried F in my arm and so did the hunky friend hold the S. As the music started we begin to lose balance n F got panicedand scratched my back n arm and also started chewing my neck. We finally fell n hunk n S won the game 

My first day at Swinton College, a small school in a sleepy New England Village, I sat across from Woody in the intimate circle of a class called “The Meaning of Meaning.”   The professor gave a long and vague introductory speech, aiming it at some point over our dozen or so heads. I found myself looking at Woody’s long, soulfully handsome face, his glittering hazel eyes intent upon whatever he was scribbling furiously in his notebook. He had short, messy brown hair and a scraggly mustache. I also noticed the silhouette of his long, insolent cock and one of his full, rosy balls protruding from his filthy frayed jeans. When the professor finished his speech and took attendance, Woody answered “Not present,” when his name was called and walked out. When the class was over, I found Woody sitting on the steps outside the building, his big balls on full display, and sat next to him.

 “Gee, can I see your notes?” I asked. He showed me a page in his notebook filled with writhing abstract, voluptuous shapes engaged in something sexual.

  ‘This is about the meaning of life,” I said. “I asked for the Meaning of Meaning.”

That got me an invitation to his room. We became inseparable in the next few weeks. I would go to class while he stayed in his room drawing murals and playing his guitar. In the evenings, I would plug in my coffee pot, and we’d spend the whole night talking and laughing, sometimes falling asleep together on the floor.

 Woodrow Alton Kendall was twenty which made him slightly, yet importantly, older than most of us. He was the black sheep of a prominent New England family with a romance novel history:  elderly, distant parents, boarding schools, solo jaunts bumming around Europe painting bad abstracts and playing the guitar he made by hand.  A battered black steamer trunk plastered with tags from exotic ports of call sat in the corner of his room, it seemed to me, like an impatient old chaperone. Swinton was the third college he’d been to and his last chance at family funds. I was from a suburb in New Jersey and this was my first time away from home.

He was recovering from an affair with Pamela, a classical pianist he met in Paris. He played her tapes incessantly. He followed her to New York where she reconciled with her husband. Bruised and shaken, he joined us in Dogpatch to wait out the end of his life.

 “Being with you soothes me. I think I would have done myself in if we didn’t have these sessions,” he said.  We lay side by side on his cot. “If you were a woman, I’d be climbing all over you.”

 “You can climb all over me if you want.”

“Have you ever slept with a man?

“No. But I want to.”

 “Let’s not ruin a good friendship,” he said.

Suddenly, he straddled my chest, leaned over me with a wild gleam in his eyes and planted his mouth on mine. It was a hard, hungry, angry kiss. He straightened up and took a deep breath.

“Did you like that?” he asked.

  “Needs work, but I liked the sentiment.”

 He got off me, skillfully slipped off his worn tee shirt and jeans. He strode to the other cot and sat there, naked, with his legs spread to show me his hot meat. His cock was long, soulful, hard, and handsome, its fat head cocked to one side ironically. His body was carelessly beautiful, smoothly muscled and tawny, something he took for granted, the result of generations of good breeding. His hazel eyes swirled with something dark, and he looked as dangerous as a pirate. I thought so many things as I approached him, regarding him so seriously, that I didn’t have a clue about what to do with him.  When I got close enough, he pushed me down to my knees and pulled my head toward his cock. I took it tentatively in my mouth, swirling its bulbous head around as if it were a fine wine, marveling at its sweet taste and satin texture. Woody’s full balls hung off the cot and I rolled them around in my hand as he groaned and shoved the length of his meat down my throat. I liked the feel of his fat cock in the back of my throat and worked by lips around the base, smelling sweet funk and anxiety in his sparse, crackling pubic hair.

 “Oh Carlos, Carlos, I love the way that feels,” Woody gasped as he grabbed my curly head and worked it up and down his stiff tool. His cock grew fatter and harder as its juice oozed down my throat. I released his cock, licked my lips, and began to lick his tight brown balls as his cock throbbed against the bridge of my nose. I took them both in my mouth and let them rest there, working my tongue around their fullness as my hands roamed along whatever they could reach on Woody’s taut body.

He stood up and pulled me up to his face. He planted a voracious kiss on my hard-working lips, his tongue rooting around inside my mouth, seeking out the taste of himself there.

He pulled my Swinton sweatshirt over my head and yanked down my baggy shorts. My hard dick sprung out and he took it in one hand, working it until a pearl glistened at its head. We pressed our hard cocks together and Woody wrapped one hand around them both and massaged them, wet with our glistening boy juice. His other hand massaged my balls and slid between my legs feeling with wonder my tender, tight butthole. I spread my legs, loving the feeling of his hand there as one rough finger probed my pink pucker. He pulled me into a long deep kiss and his pulsing cock slid between my legs, deliciously grazing my butthole as we rocked, locked together. His supple hands slid down my back and over my round ass as he pulled me toward him.

 He walked me backward to the bed and our intertwined bodies fell on upon it. He kissed my ears and my neck and slid down to my chest slowly kissing each nipple. His hand wrapped around the base of my hard cock; he kissed the length of my stomach. His head lowered to my cock, and he took its straining head in his mouth, thoughtfully tasting its juice, biting gently on it as if it were a mushroom. He took it out of his mouth and looked at it very carefully. Still holding it, he licked at the head as if it were an ice cream cone. I was painfully ready to shoot, but the pressure of his hand held back the load.

  “Please stop. I’m going to come.”

 He sat up and looked at me curiously. “This is all so interesting,” he said. “I was always curious about sucking a dick. I could understand the attraction for the suckee, but I never knew what was in it for the sucker. I’m not sure I understand the dynamic involved, but I like it.”

 “Yes, professor,” I whispered.

He backed off, grabbed my ankles in his strong hands and spread my long legs. He spent a long time looking at the rosy zone between my legs and then ran one finger along the downy stretch from my butthole to my balls. My cock stretched along my stomach and oozed into my navel. He stuck one of his fingers in his mouth and then used it to gently probe my tight hole. I closed my eyes to the new sensation of his rough, callused finger poking into me, getting deeper and deeper. I spread my legs wider, and my ass worked to accommodate this strange new intruder. I felt him remove the finger, then  felt the heat and heft of his big cock as he rubbed it along my butthole.

I opened my eyes and found myself reflected in the deep, hot pupils of his eyes as he loomed over me.

“Turn over,” he said.

“No way.”

“I want to get inside you so bad.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“No. I want everything with you,” he said.

“Put it in my mouth again. I liked that.”

“Please! I want to fuck you so bad. You want me to; I can feel it.”

“I’ve never done it before.  You’re going to tear me up.”

“I feel so close to you. I need to get inside you, or I’ll lose my mind.,” he whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“I like you so much. You must know that.”  His hot hungry mouth tore at my neck, my ears, my lips.

His fat cock was poised at my butthole, its meaty head inching its way inside me. I felt the delicious squeak of skin on skin as he eased deeper into my ass. I thought I might be saying no, but it sounded like oh, oh, oh as I dazedly looked around the messy room trying to pin down the moment. I saw his guitar propped on the steamer trunk and noticed he had carved figures into its neck. I saw my legs resting on his shoulders and hunger overtaking his handsome face. He pushed further into me, and the pain took on new dimensions, there were levels of pain, some quite interesting. Now we were connected, with his curved, hot meat rooting around inside me.

Not all pain is bad pain, I thought as my ass muscles held him in place and worked him deeper inside.  I knew I was being had, that I might be standing in for Pamela. But I wanted him to have this part of me he so ferociously seemed to need. I knew I wanted him, didn’t know what form it might take, but it must have always been this, with my hands running down his smooth back, his chaotic mouth on mine.  His face dissolved in the heat as my butt ignited and met the deep thrusts of his fat, curved cock.

My hard cock ground against his lean stomach as he plowed into me and our mouths, dry with desire, met. My ass tightened and sputtered around his hot tool. From deep, scalding well with me, spurt after spurt of steaming boy juice shot out of my cock and sealed our bodies together. He cursed and bit my neck hard, buried his tool deep in my gasping hole and I felt the spasms of his bent meat pumping its load inside me.

We lay there panting. I was sore, spent, beaming. I wanted to say a million things as I looked over at his warm, brown form. He was fast asleep. I hooked my arm under him and drew him to me. He snorted and drooled and curled up beside me.  A warm wave of relief splashed over me. I knew I’d found my mission in life.

Our sessions seemed to bring him some peace of mind.  He started going to class and with charm and smarts made up for all his lost time. He still didn’t want to consort with any of the students, but conceded that, from a distance, some of them might be interesting.  I got the buzz that people were talking about us, these two tall figures who stalked the campus with eyes only for each other. We might be in the cafeteria, laughing or talking heatedly about art and ideas and it all wound up being foreplay. I would feel the heat from his deep hazel eyes and wordlessly follow him back to his room where we would explore each other’s hungry bodies.

I got him to go to the movies and even dragged him to a couple of chamber music recitals. One balmy October afternoon we hiked across the river to a beautiful cemetery that was surrounded by tall pine trees. Our voices were hushed by the serenity of the place, the only sounds seemed to be the soft crunch of our feet on pine needles.  We looked at simple Yankee tombstones which bore names like Ezekiel and Hester and found one dated back to 1729. The most recent arrival was buried in 1910. We sat under a pine tree and watched the sun slant across the sparkling river. Woody sat with his back against the tree and me with my back against him. His arms were around me as he nuzzled my neck, and I felt his hot cock inch along my backside. He slipped his hands under my shirt and grazed my nipples, which sprang to his touch. He undid my pants and slipped one hand around my hard dick while the other hand cupped my balls.

“No Woody. Not here,” I said.

“Why not? There’s nobody around.”

“It just doesn’t seem right.”

He gnawed on my ear lobe, felt my cock stiffen and said, “Yeah. Right.”

Our clothes became a blanket beneath us as we explored each other’s warm naked bodies with our tongues intertwined. My lips slid down to his chest, and I tasted the salt and sweat of him there as I felt his warm lips on my chest.

Our mouths slid down further, and I took his magnificent, bent meat in my mouth while he thoughtfully tasted and toyed with my cock. He spread my legs wide and explored my fuck hole with a callused finger. My cock head grew in his mouth as my body suddenly contracted and a joyous, uncontrollable pre-spurt escaped my dong. Woody swallowed it and licked the fat head of my cock for any leftover juice. He stopped and propped himself on his elbow. I took his big cock out of my mouth and looked at him.

“That’s the first time I ever tasted cum,” he said. “It’s very interesting.  I think I like it.”

“Keep me posted,” I said, popping his tool back into my mouth as my nose dug into his full pink nuts. I parted his lean thighs and ran one hand between his legs. I opened his slender ass and exposed his brown, puckered butt hole to the sun and watched it wink in excitement. My mouth released his tool which slapped against his stomach, and I ran my tongue around his balls. I felt him do the same thing to me while his rough finger dug into my fuck hole.  My tongue licked around and around his shifting balls as I heatedly gazed at his winking butt. My thumb massaged his butt hole, and I felt a body-length response from him and the deep probe of his finger inside me. I spread his legs wider and lapped at the hairless stretch to his hole and our bodies shifted so that he was on his back.

His smooth ass glistened in the sun as I buried my face in his pungent, tangy ass. His ass quivered as my tongue toyed with his tight, jumpy hole. He had pulled my round butt onto his face, and I heard him inhaling deeply and the kissing sounds of his busy lips. He slapped my ass and the echo of it rang through the quiet cemetery.

I worked my tongue into his smoky butt hole, savoring the musky taste deep inside him. I wrapped one hand around his stiff dong and massaged it, feeling it grow even bigger as my tongue probed his steamy center. He grabbed my cock and tried to stuff its new girth in his mouth, and I shot another uncontrollable spurt. I couldn’t hold back much longer.  I got off his face.

“Wait!” Woody said.

“No. You wait.” I turned him around so that his body was spread before me, face up. The last warm rays of the sun washed over our hot bodies. I lifted the small mounds of his ass in my hands, spread his legs and watched his tiny butt hole wink and his balls glisten in the golden light. I gently massaged his hole with my thumb as I licked his brawny balls, feeling the juices shift and regroup inside. I pried his stiff, bent tool off his lean stomach and licked the tip of it, trailing my tongue all the way down to the base of his balls and back up again. I watched a bead of white frosting ooze out of him. I slurped it off and felt his body quiver as he closed his eyes and gave himself to me.             

I spread his legs wide as my tongue darted in feathery kisses around his clenched butt while his fat, sassy balls rested on the bridge of my nose. His hips thrashed in my grip as he thrust himself at my tongue. I grabbed his ankles and pinned his strong legs back so I could get my tongue deeper into his ass, forcefully working my way through its tense, velvet aperture. Inside, I licked around in ever-wider circles within his pungent center. His ass tightened and churned around my tongue. My ears thundered with excitement as I felt every fiber of him respond to my tongue. He arched his back and spread his legs wide to accommodate my hungry mouth. I heard a dog barking somewhere in the distance, then the honk of geese making their way south. The last blush of sunlight washed across my naked back and a cool breeze made my skin tingle.

I raised my head and took a breath, starting at the sight of a doe and fawn watching us from several feet away. My surprise snapped them out of their reverie. Their ears shot up and I watched their delicate haunches disappear among the pines. My straining cock rested against Woody’s hot hole. I looked at his tawny, beautiful body spread before me, framed in the last square of sunlight. I wanted to own him, eat him, be him, destroy him. I wanted, just wanted. His fiery eyes locked onto mine and a visible current ran between us, shimmering in our golden square of sunlight. Yes, he said, to whatever I wanted.

My cock had never seemed so big before, its menacing head poised at his gasping fuck hole. I pushed forward slightly and slowly entered him. I felt the charge of his pain and pleasure through my thick tool. I watched his succulent balls rise and tighten and his cock soften and drool. I inched further in, feeling the tension crackle inside him and the delicious sensation of him enveloping my cock. I watched the veins pulse in my cock as, halfway inside him, I ground my hips in a slow circle. He joined me in its rhythm.

There was a satisfying pop as the length of my stiff dong slipped deep inside his hot center. I stayed just like that, resting on my haunches and rocking with him gently. I ran my hands across his body and his skin sprang to my touch. He opened his eyes and the expression in them made my heart jump. It was trust.  His lips parted and he smiled at me. His hands reached up and trailed across my face; one finger outlining my lips made me smile. I kissed his fingers, his callused palms as we rocked together slowly. I took his arms and pinned them behind his head and ran my tongue along them. I buried my nose in the sparse hair in his armpits and inhaled his salty, earthy manhood. I laid feathery kisses along his neck and felt his cock grow against my stomach. I felt the wonderful crunch of his clenched balls against me as I nibbled on his ears and licked his stubble. His mouth was open, and I kissed his soft, dry lips. His tongue was dry when it met mine. Every millimeter of my skin sizzled where it met his.

Our bodies caught fire and I pushed deeper into him. He groaned with pleasure. I worked my cock around and around inside him, pulled halfway out and pushed all the way in again. I shuddered and started fucking him hard and fast. I tried to break away from him, to see more of him, to prolong the pleasure. I started to withdraw, and his forceful hands grabbed my ass and held me deep inside him as he pushed himself against my swollen tool and sucked on my tongue.

I was going to explode. I felt the pent up load work its way up from my balls, through the length of my cock. I didn’t want to shoot inside him.  I wanted to. His hands dug into my ass and his mouth tensed. He exhaled a fierce whisper. “Do it!”

I straightened up and plowed his smoking ass, watching him grimace and bite his lip. My body rocked in spasms as I pumped spurt after spurt into him and he thrashed around me. I reached for his long, bent cock and pumped it hard while I shot the last drops into him, keeping him impaled on my tool. I leaned forward with my mouth open, my tongue hanging out, so I could catch a mouthful of his cum.

I felt the unmistakable rumble of a fiery load building in his tight ass as I kept my cock buried inside him. I stroked his hefty meat and watched his balls shift and rise as the load traveled through them. I felt the juice surge through his cock and watched, amazed as the first spurt of jism shot out of him, over my head. I aimed his bent poker at my mouth and caught fat, sizzling dollops of his delicious essence and licked my lips for more. I eased my dong out of his thrashing fuck hole and took his cock in my mouth, swallowing all the creamed that still pumped out of him. I rested there, enthralled, as the last nectar seeped out of him, and his cock relaxed in my mouth.

Woody was propped on his elbows, regarding me with curiosity.

“That was very interesting,” he said. “It was very, um, carnal.”

I took his cock out of my mouth and smiled at him. “Yeah. Ain’t it great?”

“The thing about sex with another man is, there seem to be a lot more pleasurable options. There are just more interesting things to do.”

“If it’s the right man,” I said. “Which I am.”

The very next day he got a letter from Pamela, the pianist. She was living alone in New York, getting a divorce. She loved Woody, missed him, needed him. The battered old trunk was open in the center of his room, and he hastily threw things into it. The letter hung out of his back pocket.

“You don’t understand,” Woody said. “She needs me.”

“Oh, I understand,” I said, touching his face.

“You know I’m very fond of you.”

“Oh, I know,” I said, unbuttoning his shirt.

“And I’ll write to you. And visit.”

 “I’m glad,” I said, closing the lid of the trunk and sitting him down on it.

“I’ll think of you often,” he said, kicking off his moccasins.

“I hope so,” I said as he lay across the trunk, and I pulled off his pants.                                                         

It was a quiet Saturday night as I lay on the couch in my grandmother’s living room, my phone in my hand. Many other recent high school grads would be out partying on a Saturday night at 11pm, but I was more introverted than most. I had gone out with some friends to see a movie earlier, said my good nights to everyone at 10pm and was now exactly where I wanted to be, curled up on an incredibly comfy couch that was twice as old as I was, while reading about True Crime on Reddit.

I began to read:

“The Springfield Three is an unsolved disappearance case that started on June 7, 1992, when Sherrill Levitt, Suzie Streeter and Stacy McCall disappeared from their home on 1717 E Delmar St, Springfield, Missouri. Their whereabouts or their remains have never been discovered.”

I yawned as I reached down past my Super Mario Brothers T-shirt and adjusted myself in the cotton briefs I was wearing. I had worked an eight-hour shift at my retail job at Target earlier in the day and, although I wasn’t ready for sleep just yet, it felt good to relax and indulge in the True Crime rabbit hole.

I was on night four of two weeks of housesitting for my grandmother. She had offered me $400 to stay in the house and make it look lived in and keep her plants watered while she was on a trip to Mexico to visit her sister. As an eighteen-year-old going to college in the fall, how could I pass up such easy money? Also, it was nice to have a private house all to myself for two full weeks, away from the noise and nagging of my parents and three younger siblings.

“Now, Rodrigo,” my grandmother had said, after she had given me detailed instructions about how to water her plants, “I trust you won’t have any wild parties in this house while I’m away.”

On one level she absolutely meant what she said, but on another level, she was teasing me, since I was known to be the most straightlaced and responsible of Estrella Villagomez’s twenty-three grandchildren.

“You know me, Abuela,” I replied with a smile, “I’d rather be chilling by myself at night than partying, at your house or anywhere else.”

And that was exactly what I was doing that momentous Saturday night.

After reading about the Springfield Three, the disappearance of Joshua Guimond, and theories about the identity of the Zodiac killer, I opened a new tab to my favorite site for gay erotic stories and slipped my underwear off for ease of stroking my cock to whatever new user-submitted tale turned me on. A leisurely jerk-off session would be a very fulfilling way to cap off a productive day.

I quickly found a story that got me nice and hard and set to work tugging my stiff dick to an arousing story of a businessman taking his BMW to a mechanic and ending up being fucked hard by the mechanic on both the hood of the BMW and in the back seat.

I was still a virgin in every sense of the word, had never even had a first kiss. I was still closeted, largely a by-product of being from a Mexican-American Catholic family. I was working up the courage to come out as gay to my family before leaving for college in two months, after which I had every intention of pursuing dating relationships with other men. But, on this night in late June, I was still finding my sexual outlet in erotica.

I closed my eyes while masturbating myself, imagining that I was that businessman getting bent over the hood of his BMW, imagining the anticipation of being dominated and taken by another man. As I focused on this fantasy scenario, I got an additional thrill from my awareness that I was pleasuring myself on the family couch, the very same couch my dad and his five siblings had grown up sitting on as they watched TV in this same living room.

I gave a soft moan as I imagined the mechanic’s cock being positioned at my entrance.

I was suddenly jolted out of my fantasy by the sound of the front door swinging open.

I opened my eyes and gasped at seeing a tall, muscular man with a mop of curly black hair standing there in the open doorway. He was probably in his mid-thirties. He was around six feet tall with broad shoulders, his impressive physique tapering down to a narrow waist. He was dressed in a maroon polo shirt and beige khakis. He wore wire rim glasses and had a massive grin on his face, displaying gleaming white teeth.

“Starting without me?” he asked, his voice a deep and melodic baritone, as he gestured toward my exposed cock, which, if anything, had gotten harder at the sight of his enticing physique.

I clapped my hands over my erection, at a complete loss for words. I was confused and scared by his unexpected presence (not to mention mad at myself for forgetting to lock the door!) but was also instantly aroused that this specimen of masculinity had suddenly arrived in my grandmother’s living room and was taking in my appearance with unmistakable lust in his eyes.

He closed the door and corrected my earlier mistake by turning the lock. Then he stepped over to where I lay on the couch. With one hand, I reached down toward the floor to grab for my underwear, but the man moved faster and was able to scoop them up before I got to them.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a chuckle. “For what we have planned tonight, you’re not going to need these.” And then, he absolutely shocked me by holding up my cotton briefs above his head with two hands and swiftly tearing the underwear into pieces before tossing the tattered remnants to the floor.

I let out what I think was originally intended to be a cry of disapproval but ultimately came out as an aroused moan as my brain registered how fucking hot that was, this sexy stranger barging in from out of nowhere and destroying my underwear in my grandmother’s living room.

He looked me over for a long moment with a lascivious look in his eyes before I finally found my voice. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to sound intimidating, but realizing that I sounded every bit the mixture of confused, fearful, and increasingly turned on that I was.

He stared me down with a smug and knowing smirk as if he was onto my games. “Is this some kind of roleplay?” he asked. “You pretending to be taken against your will by some stranger who just barged into your house. Because I could definitely be into that kind of roleplay.”

Something about the phrase “taken against your will” made my exposed cock stiffen even harder, which he certainly noticed. But I fought through my desire to try to clear up the matter.

“I have no idea who you are,” I told him firmly. “I’m being serious. Whoever you think I am and whatever you have planned, I’m not that person.”

“Oh, stop playing hard to get,” he said, in a tone somewhere between amused and annoyed. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “You’re the anonymous twink I was talking to on the app tonight who sent me dick pics and begged me to come to his house and punch his v-card while his parents are out of town.”

“No, I’m not,” I insisted, finally having enough presence of mind to place my hands back over my exposed genitals. “I’m not even on any hookup apps. Whoever you were talking to, it wasn’t me. I’m not the person you’re looking for.” But despite the absurdity of this situation, I found myself feeling oddly jealous of whatever young guy would be getting this older man to fuck away his virginity that night.

“You gave me this address,” he argued back, swiping through his phone. Suddenly his eyes got wide and his expression changed instantly from one of dominant authority to sheepish embarrassment. “This is 4827 S. Westchester Lane,” he told me, looking up at me slowly.

“I know, ” I replied testily, still cupping my hands over my private parts. “My grandmother has lived in this house for almost fifty years.”

“Well, ” he said, his cheeks turning red, “my anonymous young twink gave me the address 4827 N. Westchester Lane, but I made the mistake of coming to this address instead.” He chuckled, trying to make light of his mistake.

Despite my continued overexposure to this stranger, I couldn’t help but soften and laugh a little, too. “Yeah, that’s way up on the other end of the city,” I said. “You’re a solid hour’s drive away from that address. I told you that I’m not the person you’re looking for.”

“I’m so sorry to have walked in on you like this, ” he said, pushing his phone back in his pocket and giving an embarrassed shrug. He immediately turned and began walking toward the front door to leave.

“Wait!” I suddenly found myself calling out, stopping him.

He turned and looked at me, an expression of hopeful curiosity on his face.

“I don’t care that you barged into the wrong house,” I told him, a sudden burst of boldness rushing over me. “I’m glad that you’re here. And, if you’re open to it, I’d love for you to take my virginity.”

A huge grin spread across his handsome face.

“This is the best possible outcome of me getting the address wrong” he said, striding confidently back to the couch.

He placed his hands on my knees and pried them apart, exposing my stiff cock and tight virginal hole. “But first,” he said, a devilish look in his eyes, “I think a spanking is in order, since you’re being a very naughty boy, asking a complete stranger to fuck you.”

He sat down on the couch and grabbed me by the ankles, pulling me across his lap with ease. He held me firmly in place with one hand while raising his right palm high in the air.

I gasped, a combination of fear and arousal coursing through my body as I realized that this man I had never seen before three minutes earlier was about to spank me, hard on my grandmother’s living room couch.

“Oh God, yes!” I moaned.

His hand crashed down hard on my left cheek, making a loud smack.

“Fuck!” I yelled out, both at the sudden pain and the thrilling excitement of it.

“Count,” he barked, before unleashing a series of punishing spanks.

“One… Two…. Three,” I managed to stammer, my eyes squeezed shut, the sting of each spank followed by a rush of endorphins and a jolt of arousal.

I was moaning loudly and thrusting my hips upward with every spank, my bare ass and cock rubbing against the fabric of his khakis. I was completely lost in the moment, in the surreal pleasure of having a stranger punish my ass for my “naughtiness.”

“Sixteen…. Seventeen….” I managed to count, as I lost myself in the sensation of his warm palm crashing repeatedly against my ass.

“Fuck, this is hot,” he muttered under his breath as he kept spanking me, my moans growing louder with every swat.

“Thirty-one… Thirty-two…” I moaned, as the sting intensified, my asshole clenching and unclenching.

“You’re taking it like a champ,” he told me, giving a little chuckle, before unleashing the hardest smack yet.

“Fifty-seven! Fuck!” I cried out, bucking my hips wildly against him, my cock now dripping pre-cum all over the pants of his khakis.

He paused his assault and let me catch my breath.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” I asked, turning my head back toward him and opening my eyes. “That a spanking was necessary because I asked a complete stranger to fuck me?”

“Absolutely,” he answered with a firm nod. “That is incredibly risky and irresponsible. But I’m guessing that’s part of the appeal. You like the idea of being reckless and vulnerable with a stranger.”

“Fuck yeah, it is,” I replied, grinning and blushing, amazed that this guy who I didn’t even know was reading me so accurately.

He leaned down and planted a tender kiss on the top of my head.

“Now, stand up and take your shirt off,” he ordered.

I eagerly scrambled to my feet, pulling my T-shirt off and tossing it to the floor.

“Good boy,” he said as he ran his hand down the length of my smooth torso.

“Are you ready for my dick?” he then asked.

“Yes,” I said, staring at the growing bulge in his khaki pants.

“Get on your knees and pull down my pants,” he commanded.

I dropped down and fumbled with the zipper and button of his khakis until they were undone. I slid the pants and boxers down, freeing his erect and massive member.

“Wow,” I said, my jaw dropping as I gazed upon his huge, veiny, cut cock, which was now pointed straight at my face. “I can’t wait to have that inside me,” I said, looking up and smiling.

“Oh, believe me,” he said, grabbing the back of my head and moving his hips forward. “It will be inside you.”

Without saying another word, he shoved his dick into my mouth.

“Mmmmhmmm,” I moaned as I felt the fullness in my mouth, the taste and smell of his cock.

He held the back of my head with his hands and thrust himself in and out of my mouth.

“Oh yeah,” he said, grunting loudly, “that feels fucking great. You’re a good cocksucker. Have you sucked dick before?”

“Unh-unh,” I grunted, shaking my head, the dick still in my mouth.

“Damn,” he groaned, “so your virgin asshole and throat are both mine. Fuck yeah.”

He kept his hand on the back of my head, guiding his dick in and out, in and out, in and out, while I sucked and licked, trying my best to give him a good blow job, hoping I was satisfying him.

After a couple minutes of this, he pulled his cock out and looked me straight in the eye.

“Stand up and bend over the couch,” he ordered, his eyes ablaze.

I quickly got back to my feet and bent over the couch, my arms and legs trembling with nervous anticipation.

“Spread your legs,” he said.

I widened my stance and heard him drop down behind me.

“Let’s get a look at that ass,” he said, spreading my cheeks and letting out a whistle.

“Oh yeah,” he exclaimed. “Such a beautiful virgin hole. It’s calling out to be fucked.”

I was panting heavily, my dick was harder than ever. I was completely naked, vulnerable, and bent over, in my grandmother’s living room, about to have my anal virginity taken.

Less than fifteen minutes ago I had been reading True Crime on Reddit and expecting a quiet evening. Things had changed very quickly.

“I’m going to open you up nice and slow,” he said, his voice firm and commanding.

“OK,” I responded, nodding, bracing myself for his finger.

But a finger wasn’t what I felt. I gasped as I suddenly felt the man’s warm and wet tongue on my asshole.

“Holy shit!” I cried out, as he began eating my ass, his tongue lapping and licking my entrance, causing sensations more pleasurable than I had ever imagined.

“You like that, boy?” he asked, taking a break from rimming me.

“Yeah, it feels amazing,” I panted, “keep going, please.”

He chuckled, then returned his face to my hole, licking and sucking me.

I was writhing with pleasure, moaning, gasping, and crying out as his expert tongue opened me up. My dick was leaking precum, dripping all over the cushion of the couch.

Finally, he pulled his mouth away and inserted his index finger inside me.

“Oooooooh!!” I moaned, enjoying the feeling of his thick digit working its way deeper and deeper.

He moved the finger in and out, in and out, in and out, and then added a second finger.

“Mmmm,” I murmured, as he opened me up further, stretching and expanding my hole.

“I can’t wait to pound your tight little virgin asshole,” he said, a huskiness in his voice.

“Please!” I moaned. “Please fuck me! I need your cock inside me! Now!”

“Good,” he said. “Then let’s get that virgin hole ready.”

And then I felt his fingers leave me and his presence move away from behind me.

I waited a moment and turned around to see him standing beside the couch, his enormous cock pointed straight at me, glistening with a mixture of my saliva and his precum.

“You look amazing, bent over the couch, ready for me,” he said. “But there’s no way in hell we’re going to do it on a couch. Go upstairs and find us a bedroom.”

“OK,” I said, getting off the couch and hurrying out of the living room and toward the staircase, eager to follow his orders.

I bounded up the stairs and headed straight for my grandmother’s bedroom, with its queen-size bed, wooden nightstands, and dresser. I hurriedly cleared the bed of decorative pillows, pulled back the comforter, and stripped the sheet off.

I heard the man’s heavy footsteps on the stairs, and he came into the room, carrying the bottle of olive oil he must have spotted in the kitchen.

“Looks perfect,” he said. “On the bed, on your hands and knees.”

I obeyed, scrambling onto the bed and positioning myself on my hands and knees.

“Let’s get you ready,” he said, kneeling behind me and placing his hand on my left cheek, rubbing the oil on me, massaging and opening me up.

“Ahhhh!” I groaned, the mixture of his touch and the lubrication heightening the anticipation of his cock entering me.

I looked back to see him stroking his dick with the remaining oil, coating it thoroughly.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice deep and low, “this is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Me too,” I said, a smile creeping across my face.

“Let’s take that v-card,” he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips, his slick, meaty dick pressed against my entrance.

“I’m ready,” I said, the nerves in my stomach mixing with the throbbing of my erection.

“Here we go,” he said, his tone serious and determined.

He slowly pushed his cock inside me, and I gasped as I felt my asshole stretch.

“Oooooh!” he groaned, pushing himself a bit further, his thick member filling and stretching my insides.

“More,” I breathed, feeling the pressure and pleasure.

“Here you go, boy,” he growled, and he buried his cock fully inside me.

“FUCK!!!,” I screamed, feeling a rush of ecstasy as his big dick filled and stretched me, and his groin pressed up against me, his pubic hair rubbing against my bare skin.

“How’s that feel?” he asked.

“Oh God, so good,” I answered.

“It’s about to feel even better,” he said, a teasing note in his voice.

And without warning, he began to thrust.

“YES!” I screamed, his cock moving in and out, in and out, the sensation of fullness and the friction and pleasure combining to overwhelm my senses. “OH GOD, YES!”

“Did you ever think you’d lose your virginity on Grandma’s bed?” he asked playfully, his rhythm building up speed.

“Never!” I moaned. I closed my eyes for a while, savoring every delightful push and pull in and out of me.

“This is a perfect ass,” he grunted, slamming himself harder and harder into me.

“So good,” I whimpered, the sensations intensifying as his dick hit the spot that made me tremble and tingle all over.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” he promised, as his dick kept pounding and pounding, his hips slapping against my oiled-up cheeks, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips.

“Keep fucking me,” I begged, and the pleasure was almost unbearable.

“Cum for me, boy,” he ordered.

“Oh God, I’m so close!” I shouted.

“I’m gonna keep fucking you,” he said, his thrusting never slowing, his voice never wavering.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!! Oh my God, I’m gonna cum!!” I cried.

“Cum for me,” he commanded.

“FUCK!!!” I screamed, and an intense wave of pleasure rolled through my entire body. My cock twitched and exploded, spraying my grandmother’s bed with a massive load of cum.

“Good boy,” the stranger praised, as my orgasm continued, a powerful climax that left me breathless and shaking.

“Keep going,” I begged, wanting his cock inside me as long as possible.

“Oh, I’m going to keep giving it to you,” he promised.

His thrusting continued, and I realized I was getting hard again, the aftershocks of my orgasm sending new sensations coursing through my body.

“Fuck, oh fuck!!” he cried, and he slammed his cock in and out, in and out, his rhythm faltering, his breathing growing heavier.

“Are you going to cum inside me?” I asked, desperate to feel his load fill my hole.

“I’m cumming!!” he groaned, his thrusting turning into a series of quick spasms, and then, he buried his dick deep inside me, and I felt his warmth flood me, his body shaking, his hands squeezing my hips.

“Oh fuck, yeah!!” he moaned, and a second orgasm surged through me, and I came again, spurting my load onto the bed.

He remained inside me, his cock twitching, and I felt a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment unlike anything I had ever experienced.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said, finally pulling out of me.

“It was incredible,” I said, my voice weak and shaky.

“Thank you,” I told him. “This was an amazing experience. It was even better than what I had dreamed it would be like.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, a smug look on his face.

“Would you… uh… like to stay the night?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound desperate.

“Sure,” he answered, a smile spreading across his face. “But don’t expect to get much sleep.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, smiling back.

“By the way,” he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Rodrigo,” I told him. “Rodrigo Villagomez.”

“Nice to meet you, Rodrigo,” he said, his voice a mix of humor and desire. “I’m Ezra Greenfield.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, too, Ezra,” I replied.

He laughed and shook his head.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Nothing,” he said. “You’re just so damned polite.”

“I’ve always been told I have excellent manners,” I said.

“I’ll say,” he answered. “You definitely know how to welcome a visitor.”

And, with a wink, he wrapped his strong hand around my waist and pulled me toward him.

“Now,” he whispered, his lips brushing against mine, his eyes staring into mine, “why don’t we see what else you can do to welcome me.”

With that, his mouth crashed into mine and our lips met, and I had my first kiss. I smiled into the kiss, suddenly realizing the humor that this first kiss was coming after those other firsts I’d just experienced.

Ezra and I made great use of the different rooms of my grandmother’s empty house that night.

Later that night, Ezra had laid me down on the hardwood floor of the front entryway, lifted my legs and pounded me mercilessly until we both came.

We had a late-night snack of cheese and crackers, followed by me being taken on the dining room table.

After a shower, Ezra fucked me from behind while I was bent over the downstairs bathroom sink.

Around 4am, we went outside and Ezra fucked me hard up against the garage door. I didn’t even attempt to stifle my moans and cries of pleasure outside in the middle of the night.

Finally, at 5:15am, the two of us fell into a sweaty, spent, and exhausted sleep in my grandmother’s bed, the cum-stained sheets still crumpled on the floor.

A couple hours later, I woke up, sore but happy, the smell of sex in the air.

I gently extricated myself from under Ezra’s heavy arm and quietly got dressed and went downstairs. I tidied the house a little bit, throwing the bed sheets into the washer, setting the coffee maker, and doing some basic food preparation for breakfast.

At 7:30am, when the coffee was done, I heard Ezra’s heavy footsteps on the stairs, and soon, his muscular arms were wrapped around me, and he was kissing the back of my neck.

“Good morning, sexy,” he said.

“Good morning, Ezra,” I replied.

“How’s your ass feeling today?” he asked, his voice amused.

“Pretty damn sore,” I answered with a chuckle.

“Hopefully not too sore for another round,” he said, his hand running along the crotch of my pants, cupping and squeezing.

“I think I could handle a little more,” I replied.

“I hear the washing machine running,” he said suggestively, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Yeah,” I said, my cheeks turning red.

“Let’s strip off these clothes and make a memory on top of the washing machine,” he said, unzipping my jeans.

I was completely naked a few seconds later.

“Get the olive oil,” Ezra told me urgently.

I smiled, realizing I definitely would be reliving these moments in my head every time my grandmother cooked with olive oil.

I returned to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of olive oil and handed it to Ezra.

“Follow me,” he said.

As soon as we stepped foot in the laundry room, Ezra began removing his clothes, tossing them aside, the washing machine in the corner of the room, loudly in the middle of the spin cycle.

“Get on top,” he ordered, his erect cock already glistening with the oil.

I climbed up and sat facing him, and he moved his body closer.

“I’m going to fuck you while the washing machine runs,” he said, his tone playful.

“Sounds like fun,” I replied.

“Here you go,” he said, his strong hands grabbing my hips and lifting me slightly.
I held his broad shoulders as he positioned himself and thrust upward, entering me easily.

“Oh fuck!” I gasped, enjoying the familiar feel of his cock filling me.

“There you go, boy,” he grunted, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze my buttocks, holding me tightly.

“Yes, Ezra, fuck me!” I urged, my cock leaking precum.

He began to thrust, slowly and deliberately.

“Oh, yes!” I cried, loving the feeling of his dick filling and stretching me.

“I’m going to pound your tight ass,” he promised, increasing his tempo, slamming himself deeper and harder.

“Oh, it feels amazing!” I cried.

He began fucking me furiously, and the washing machine rocked and clattered beneath me as it neared the end of the cycle.

“Yes, yes, yes!!” I screamed, the intensity and volume of the washer’s movement building, and Ezra’s thrusting intensifying, his hips slapping against me, the friction and fullness inside me building and building and building.

“Fuck, Rodrigo, I’m gonna cum!!” he yelled.

“Give it to me!!” I begged. “Fill me!!”

“I’m gonna fuck you until I cum,” he promised, and the washing machine reached its crescendo, the drum rotating and spinning at maximum capacity.

“Oh fuck!!,” I shouted, “I’m cumming!!”

“I’m going to give you every drop!!” Ezra roared, and he buried his cock deep inside me, and his load shot into me, and the combination of the pleasure and the forceful spin cycle and the knowledge that I had been a virgin less than twelve hours ago and had now been fucked in nearly every room of my grandmother’s house set off a second, mind-blowing orgasm.

My dick erupted, spraying the glass door of the washing machine and the metal front of the dryer with a sizable and thick load.

The washer was still going, the spin cycle starting to slow.

Ezra looked into my eyes, his breathing slowing, and the two of us shared a laugh.

“That was awesome,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

“Totally,” I agreed.

We quickly disengaged, and, a moment later, the washing machine stopped.

“Now,” Ezra said, his hand gripping his now soft penis, “I need a shower before heading back.”

“Me too,” I admitted, my own dick sticky and coated with a mixture of the two of us.

“Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand to me.

I nodded, and took his hand, and the two of us, completely naked, walked out of the laundry room and down the hallway and up the stairs to the shower.

A half hour later, the two of us were clean and dressed.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Ezra said, after he had finished the cup of coffee I had made him.

“Thanks for the most memorable night of my life,” I told him, blushing.

“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” Ezra said, and kissed me, hard and passionately.

“I’m so grateful you came to the wrong address,” I said with a sly smile. “That poor guy at 4827 N. Westchester Lane missed out on the most spectacular virginity loss anyone ever had.”

Ezra laughed. “Yeah, for all I know that guy’s still waiting ass up for me to come take him. But I got exactly what I wanted last night. That was the most fortuitous mistake I’ve ever made.”

I was at a loss for words and could only smile at him with moist eyes.

“Hey,” he said, reaching into his wallet, “if you’re ever in the market for a new dentist I’d be willing to offer you a significant discount.” He handed me a business card. I looked at it and read:

Ezra J. Greenfield, DDS, Top Jewish Dentist in Halligan County

I chuckled as I reread the words.

He was definitely a top all right.

And he was definitely skilled at drilling.

“You know, I’ve never much cared for dentists,” I told him with a suggestive smile, “but I’d let you drill me anytime.”

He laughed and then regarded me for a long, silent moment.

“Take care, Rodrigo,” he eventually told me, before turning and heading out the front door.

“Goodbye, Ezra,” I called after him, feeling a wistful pang inside me that was hard to describe.

And then he was gone.

I sat down on the living room couch, feeling the soreness in my butt.

“Holy shit,” I said aloud, realizing how much my life had changed in the past ten hours.

I saw the shredded remains of my underwear that Ezra had destroyed upon arriving at the house the night before. I picked them up and found myself hugging them against my chest and I sat and reflected upon my life-changing night.

Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

I looked through the peephole, and my jaw dropped.

Ezra was standing there, smiling.

“Did you forget something?” I asked him, opening the door with a confused expression.

“No,” he replied, holding up his phone. “I was on the app looking for someone to spend the rest of the day with and I actually got to the right address this time.”

“I’m still not on the app,” I said slowly, my heart pounding in my chest.

“No, you’re not,” Ezra replied, fire in his eyes. “But you’re definitely the person I’m looking for.”

I pulled him into a passionate kiss, and we shut the door, locking the rest of the world out.

And then, together, we proceeded to make even more memories.

Deep Dive

As time passed it was easier for me to see which road to take. Ivan was home today. He was home yesterday. I expect him to be home tomorrow. Beyond that is another day.

Now when Ivan worked late, not making it home for dinner, Dylan let him hear about it. Our son wasn’t too bashful to speak his mind when he thought Ivan was neglecting him. He’d been neglected too long to allow it any longer. Dylan knew his father was working hard and he knew what time he should be home.

Ivan knew where he stood with Dylan, when our son held his father’s feet to the fire and informing him, “This is not OK with me. You need to be home for dinner. I need to see you at dinner. Excuses don’t cut it, Daddy-O.”

I said nothing.

Ivan listened.

My son had the floor.

Mama inspected her napkin.

Pop admired his grandson.

Lucy smiled.

“I’ll do better, junior. We’ve nearly got the walls up and there isn’t enough light to work much past six. Some nights I go to my house to shower before dinner, and I fall asleep on my bed. I always look forward to one of Mama’s sumptuous meals.”

“We have showers and beds here. Come to my house to shower. If you need to lie down before dinner. We have plenty of beds. That way, I know you’re OK and still in the same state I’m in.”

“I’ll do better, Kiddo. That’s a promise.”

Hearing Dylan say he worried about his father made me feel better about worrying about his father. Dylan grew up while his father was absent. At times he wanted to make sure Ivan was still here.

Dinner went on the table at seven at the conservancy house.

I took the answer as a promise to his son. The ice was still thin.

Whether it was Dylan or me, if Ivan’s long hours working on the cove ate too deeply into time we expected him to give us, he’d hear about it.

We didn’t fear the issuance of boundaries would run Ivan off.

*****

It was the end of October, and I was taking Ivan his lunch. I left my help with plenty to do. I was a terrible slave driver.

With some rainy afternoons in the past week the new shop still had a ways to go before the walls were completed. A carpenter had been framing the spot where a gigantic window would go. It required more than a little reinforcement. The days remained warm to quite warm but the nights were pleasantly cool.

It was Wednesday and another day in paradise.

“I have something I want to show you,” Ivan said, before I coughed up his lunch. “It’s right behind Sea Lab.”

He held the door open for me, pinching me as I passed..

“The shop looks nice, Ivan. You’ve really done a lot of fixing up. It no longer looks like a dump,” I said.

“Thank you, I think,” he said.

We went down the six steps and onto the dock, walking past Mr. Aleksa’s empty slip two slips before Sea Lab. Ivan kept walking.

I stopped to examine the sign: Charter Fishing.

It was mounted at the end of the dock on sturdy poles. The sign itself was three feet by three feet. It could be read from the road. Ivan’s boat was in front of the sign where he’d built his slip. It had his boat pointing toward the entrance of the cove.

“Come to the end of the dock,” he said, stopping there.

He must have stood there when they installed the sign. His curly dark brown hair brushed the bottom.

“It’s a nice sign, Ivan. Shouldn’t it have a phone number?”

“I won’t get a phone until we’re in the new shop. The natural instinct would be to inquire inside the Bait Shop if they are interested in booking a charter.”

“Oh,” I said.

“You haven’t seen the half of it. Come here,” he said. “See.”

He pointed to the stern of his boat as I moved forward. I was immediately aware of what he wanted me to see. I was delighted.

“What do you think?” he asked.

A name had been painted on the back of Ivan’s boat: Daddy-O.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I’d hug you but we know how well that would go over in the heart of Dixie,” I said.

“We do,” he said.

Our shoulders touched.

“I’ll consider myself hugged and being a gentlemen, I won’t tell you what I’d like to consider next.”

I checked out how the letters arched perfectly centered in a sweeping scarlet swash. It was quite well done.

“It just came back today. It’s set up for fishing now. The galley and the bunks have been reinforced to hold up with a lot of use.”

“It’s really nice, Ivan. I hope the customers start lining up,” I said. “Dylan will love the name.”

“I thought so,” he said. “I was going to call it The Dylan, but it didn’t fit. Then I thought of Daddy-O. It’s perfect.”

“It is,” I said.

*****

On Thursday, after two weeks of pampering the help, I decided to do what I’d been putting off for weeks, dive on the sunken freighter. I’d scope out the site where I would spend a lot of time.

Before leaving them on their own, I said, “Once you finished your assigned work, I suggest you get books from the conservancy library to read. I wish to remind you, Rachael Carson is an author I want you to become familiar with. Once you start reading one of her books, you’ll understand why.”

There hadn’t been much free time up until now and being aware of what was being written in the field was important. I told them I should be back before they went home, but it wasn’t a sure thing if I wanted to do everything I needed to do.

Make the dive. Get home in time for lunch. Take Ivan his late lunch.

I leaned in the door of the Bait shop to tell Ivan the plan. Then I walked to Sea Lab.

At eight thirty-five I passed out of the cove and into the Gulf.

*****

Standing on the second step of the ladder, I fell backward into the Gulf. Holding my face mask in place, I rolled over and began my descent.

Expectations ran through me like an electrical charge. I’d waited for Jack and Randi to adapt to their new responsibilities. Now I could spend the day away knowing they were equipped to work without me being there. Diving on the sunken freighter Harold showed me was my job today.

I didn’t rush on a dive day. It was a good way to end up in trouble. I followed a routine Bill Payne introduced me to on my first dive. It kept me out of trouble.

I was anxious to dive alone on the sunken freighter. It had been on my mind since Harold showed it to me. Waiting made my return to the shipwreck more rewarding.

It was my compulsion to get back underway and I didn’t fight it. I took a water sample near the surface. As I got deeper down, I took my second water sample before the freighter came into sight and my mind would become married to the vision. This was going to become a special place for me to visit.

I knew where to look for the target of this dive. When I first saw it, it became clear how far away I was when I caught sight of the entire freighter sitting upright on the floor of the Gulf below me. It settled on the bottom in a single piece fifty years ago, and I fought the feeling I was in the bottom of an aquarium.

Entering the water excited me. This was a strange world I was familiar with. It was like my body and the water were of the same molecules. I felt it on my first dive. I felt a peculiar oneness with the sea. I continued to be fascinated by sea creatures.

When I was in the Gulf, I felt at home. On my first dive I understood this was my element. I had no fear of being underwater. I looked forward to it. There was too much to see and do to let fear into the equation.

I felt a supernatural aspect to the sunken freighter I was seeing. It was a mystery sitting on the bottom of the Gulf and I had come to unlock the mystery of its current role as host to a vast variety of sea creatures.

Not diving was far more difficult than this. I was relaxed as I moved closer to the shipwreck. Knowing what I was about to see, my heart still skipped a beat once I saw it.

A magnificent reef covered the main deck, obscuring the man-made structures on and above that deck. It wasn’t so much a ship as it was a reef when I looked down on it.

It struck me odd that the body of the ship, the thing that told you this was a ship, was almost free of the reef that dominated the rest of the ship above the main deck. It was clearly a boat. The reef was just now peeking over the sides, stretching down from the main deck. This reef was ready to consume the rest of the freighter and I knew it took fifty years to get to this point.

My reef, the Spanish shipwreck of centuries ago, was hardly a ship at all. It was a reef that replaced the decaying ship. It slowly took the place of the wooden ship. There was never anything spooky, supernatural about it. This was nature at work.

What once had been an instrument of war and destruction, gave way to an original beauty worthy of any museum or cathedral.

I didn’t bring my camera or I’d be clicking away on my latest project. There had to be a plan first. I needed to see the entire site from above, with it at eye level, and below, where I could look up at the deck to see how far away the coral was. I worked my way around the shipwreck, suspended just below the main deck.

I’d take note of any promising vantage points I might be able to observe the reef from without interacting with it. I wanted to find as many spot as possible where I had a view of the reef and the sea creatures, but I wasn’t so close I was interacting with either.

As great a find as the sunken freighter was, it offered few places where I wasn’t using part of the reef or spots that the reef would soon encorporate into it. I needed to observe without interfering with their activities, but on the freighter, I couldn’t be invisible. The sea creatures were curious about me and sought me out, wondering what in the world I was.

On the flat Gulf bottom, the sea creatures would see me coming and see where I went. At least in the beginning, they’d avoid me. Then they’d become curious about me, once I’d visited a few times, respecting their space and not representing a threat. Then I’d plan to bring my camera to document the different shapes, sizes, and colors. From the pictures I’d identify the species I could see close enough to make a positive identification.

Then there was what I didn’t see. There was the mystery around the shipwreck. There was a feeling here I never got at my reef. There was the presence of the crew and the ship’s captain. Seeing the ship as a ship made a difference. I always did my best to respect the sea creatures I came in contact with. I did a lot of backing away from activities I might stumble upon.

I could see the life and respect it. Give it its space, but what of the men who went to the bottom with the shipwreck? What state were they in. Were they resigned to their fate before the ship they sailed settled here?

Were one two or more sailors able to find pockets of air and were they alive to take the ride down to what they must have known was their grave.

Being there, seeing it the way I needed to see it for the first time. I was here as an observer. I was an investigator of details without any details on the ship. Where was it from? Where was it bound? Who sailed on her when it left its final port of call?

I was back in the game and I looked for places where I could get the best pictures of the life there. Once they got used to the strange looking creature visiting their secluded spot, most species would be as curious about me as I was about them. That’s the way it usually went.

Then there were the creatures that would never get close to anything that looked like me in SCUBA gear. The reclusive residents of the reef were hardest to identify or photograph. They were hardest to document and the highlight of any dive was when you identified one.

For now I’d observe, get the lay of the land, so to speak. Each reef had its own dynamics. No two reefs were alike.

Then there was the mystery of the men who died here. This gave me the feeling that the spirits of the men who went down with the ship were here still. It gave me a deep appreciation for the reef that was their marker. It was their only grave and it represented the graves of all the men who had gone to sea and never returned.

*****

I was home for a late lunch after diving on the sunken freighter. Mama was in the midst of dinner preparations. If I hadn’t been hungry already, the smells in Mama’s kitchen would have had my taste buds watering.

Before I was finished eating Mama put out a bag with two hot buttered biscuits on top. I’d watched her put four fat pieces of fried chicken in the bag, along with a container of potato salad, and a healthy slice of last night’s apple pie. She didn’t need to tell me it was for Ivan and I needed to take it to the marina. This was our routine.

Ivan raved over Mama’s fried chicken. We all broke into smiles when Mama put a platter full of her fried chicken on the dinner table.

Ivan also said, “Mama, your biscuits could float away on a soft breeze.’ It was the kind of compliment Mama never forgot.

The bag must have weighed two pounds and I knew Ivan would hand me one of those fat pieces of chicken.

I saw myself as marine biologist giganticus one day.

How could I be hungry? I just ate lunch.

Mama fed me and then made sure I left the house with the bag I would deliver to Ivan. I was always looking for a reason to visit Ivan. I left Randi and Jack reading Rachel Carson as their assignment. So I had time for Ivan. If I was honest, Mama’s cooking was one of the main reasons Ivan stayed so close to me when we were boys. For the most part, Ivan was raising himself when I discovered him. He ate stuff that came out of a can or mostly ready to eat. With Mr. Aleksa being out in the Gulf fishing most days, Ivan found the invitation to eat at the Olsons’ table irresistible.

While I drove, I had time to think about details like that. It took no more than five minutes to be parking in the lot at the cove. I grabbed the bag and headed for the Bait Shop.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Ivan said when the bell over the door rang.

“Nice bell,” I said.

“Thanks. It sounds like the bell in Bell, Book, and Candle.”

“Yes,” I said, no longer thinking about the bell.

I set the bag on the counter and moved away from the new and clean window to run my hands down the front of Ivan’s shirt as I stood behind him.

When he turned to face me, I planted the kiss I’d been saving for him since that morning. He gave me one too.

Ivan was working on making the old Bait Shop new again. Once the Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop was finished, he would transfer his displays and the products he had in stock to the new shop.

This was where he was each day. Taggart came after school and they laid bricks until daylight ran out. By early November the days were growing shorter and Ivan was home in time for dinner by then. The time for brick laying and the daylight ran out earlier each day.

This change satisfied both Dylan and me even if it pushed back the completion date on the new shop.

“I smell fried chicken, Ivan,” I teased.

“Oh, man, I’d walk a country mile for your Mama’s fried chicken.”

“And biscuits,” I said to tantalize him away from his desk.

Ivan was standing at the desk next to the compressor he used to fill SCUBA tanks. He put his pencil down and came to the counter to take the feast out of the brown paper bag.

I stood across from him after I looked at the desk and the map of the cove he was drawing as ideas came to him. It changed each day.

“Busy?” I asked, standing at the counter with my hands on the bag as he left the desk where he kept the plans.

“No. It’s Thursday. We don’t get much business on Thursday. I’m working on my plans for the cove. I’ve added some touches,” he said, leaving the desk to come see a man about fried chicken.

I let him take the back and empty it on the counter.

“Fire pits and picnic tables bordering the beach,” I said, seeing what had been added to the plans as soon as he took the bait and went to get the fried chicken.

“Yes, but don’t expect any answers out of me while I’m smelling your Mama’s fried chicken.”

He fondled the chicken, sniffing at the fragrance it offered.

“I see no signs of a beach and you have fire pits?”

“Don’t be a bummer. I need to plan to rent a grader to create the beach from the far side of the boat ramp to the finger of land separating the cove from the Gulf,” he said.

He closed his eyes after taking a bite.

“OK,” I said. “You’ll clear the undergrowth with the grader?”

“This may become a bottleneck,” Ivan said. “Renting a grader will require finding a place that will rent one to someone like me. The biggest hitch will be how to get it here so I can clear the jungle out of the way of my beach. I’ve got to find a place closer than Fort Myers. The cost of getting it here and taking it back is prohibitive and it won’t fit in the trunk of the Buick.”

“No. I think not,” I said. “Maybe where they’re doing grading nearby. Building new housing developments is going great guns to the north and east of us. Makes sense a construction company might have one on a building site they don’t use often. It’s there for when they need it.”

“See why I let you hang around?” Ivan said. “I’d never have come up with that. I can plan my empire and lack basic mind function to get it done. We’ll drive around and see what’s up one weekend. You can show me where the new building is going on.”

“OK. I’m game,” I said. “Now all you need to do is convince Dylan to go riding around in the Buick,” I said.

Ivan laughed.

“Here, with the road close to the beach, I’ll clear all the brush, but as I clear a twenty foot wide swath to the end of the cove, the road gets farther from the campsites as you get farther from the new shop. It’ll make for more rustic campsites the closer campers gets to the Gulf. This will appeal to more adventures campers.”

“I like the sound of it,” I said.

“It’s on my plans now. Popov has approved everything you see,” he said.

“The beach will be fifteen feet wide. I’ll extend the parking lot half the way to the end of the cove. That way they can park fairly close to their campsite. The people closest to the boat ramp will have parking just above their space. They’ll be closer to the conveniences we offer.”

“You want them bringing their food and not eating at JK’s?”

“I imagine some folks don’t have a lot of money to spend. Eating out a couple of times a day is expensive, even with JK’s food being moderately priced. I’ll think about it but I think fixing hot dogs, burgers, and such is part of camping out if you plan to stay a week. We’ll offer J.K.’s easier to fix food at J.K.’s Junior Kitchen, which is what this shop will become once the new shop opens.”

“People on the beach will like having fast food close at hand,” I said.

“You’re staring at my chicken,” Ivan said. “Take a piece. I can’t eat all this. I see that wanton look in your eye.”

“That look has nothing to do with chicken,” I said, picking up a fat thigh and biting into it.

“Glad that wasn’t my thigh,” he said, nibbling on a breast.

“I want you to go diving with me, Ivan,” I said.

“You usually just tell me when we’re going,” he said. “What about Dylan?”

“It’s a deep dive. He’s not equipped to do a deep dive. It’ll be a few years before he’s mature enough,” I said. “This is a new place. Harold showed me. It’s a deep dive on a sunken freighter. I want you to see it. It’s where I’ll be doing a lot of diving soon.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, our kid is more mature than I am,” Ivan said.

“Mature, as in he has a buttoned down mind. Emotionally and physically, he’s not mature enough to be put into a deep diving situation. In an emergency, he isn’t going to react fast enough. It’s not a question of maturity. It’s a question of being ready. He isn’t.”

“No, not when you put it that way. Give me the time. I’ll be there, honey bun. Wouldn’t miss a chance to go with you on Sea Lab. I’ve loved that boat since the first time I saw it. I’d been gone all those years and you’d made the big time. A success in your career and that boat left no doubt about it. You’re no ordinary marine biologist, cutie pie. I, on the other hand, spent ten years wandering.”

The Bait Shop had warmed up. Ivan didn’t usually show vulnerability, not even when we were boys.

“I had to ask myself, why would a guy like you want anything to do with a jerk off like me?”

I looked deep into his eyes.

“Because I love you,” I said.

“I have no right to take your love, Clay. I lost my right to expect you to still love me. I hoped you could. I prayed you would, but I didn’t expect it. You’re the best thing in my life. You’ve been the best thing in my life since we met. I have no excuse for leaving you. Had I known what I was facing, I’d never have left our beach.”

Ivan was rarely that serious and it made me squirm.

“Let’s leave it alone,” I said. “Let’s be here and experience now.”

“The story is about that. It’s about choices and the journey. I will tell the story but it won’t be easy for you to hear,” he said.

“The unknown is far more dangerous than the knowing,” I said.

He nibbled his chicken. I held my thigh bone.

The sun shined in through the new bigger cleaner glass window.

“I like the idea of you and me, you know, like just the two of us go diving together.”

“It wouldn’t be as much fun going separately,” I said.

“I can lock the door and we can practice deep diving in the back of the shop,” Ivan said. “Taggart is going for mortar mix after school.”

“I’d love nothing more, but I took the Sea Lab out this morning and I didn’t do a proper inspection. I just wanted to get going,” I said. “I’ve got to spend the next hour or two checking her out and then I’ve got to go back to the conservancy to reassure my employees that I am really back to work and it wasn’t their imagination.”

“How are the troops at the conservancy doing these days? Harry sure is good to you.”

“You telling me. They’re treading water until I get back,” I said. “I assigned Rachel Carson for them to read. Keep them out of mischief while I’m gone out on my double lunch hour.”

“I see where she would be appropriate reading,” Ivan said. “Excellent writer. I’m sure she died way too young. We need more brilliant minds like hers.”

“I’ve got to get going,” I said. “Sea Lab awaits.”

Ivan smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. Remember the first time I was on the Sea Lab? It just flashed into my mind. I didn’t tell you how impressed I was. I knew you’d made it when I saw that boat.”

I didn’t slap him hard but I slapped him nonetheless.

Ivan looked stunned.

“What’s that for?” he said, rubbing his cheek. “You said you loved me.”

“That’s for putting that damn ice cold soda in the middle of my bare back,” I said. “I remember the first time you were on Sea Lab. You didn’t have time to tell me you were impressed. All you had in mind was checking out the deck. You made me feel cheap.”

“Never cheap, my love,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “Irresistible! When I’m that close to you, you’re absolutely irresistible.”

Ivan smiled.

“You are always ready with the right answer,” I said.

“It was a nice deck. I didn’t know there was a carpeted salon a few feet away,” he said with a smirk. “I did find my brand of root beer in the galley though. I found that interesting.”

“Dylan’s brand,” I said. “You were in too big a hurry to find a soft spot for what you had in mind to find the salon,” I said.

I never told him how seeing him made me feel, after he was out of my life for four years.

“You remember what I was wearing?” He asked.

“You knew you couldn’t face me any other way. The fact you are the most beautiful man I know gave you an unfair advantage. In the nude you’re irresistible, …to me anyway,” I said. “You took advantage of that fact, buster.”

“You are cute when you’re angry, Clayton,” he said.

“I’m cute all the time, buster,” I said.

“You telling me.”

“This is a lot of fun but I need to finish with Sea Lab and get her secured for the night.”

“Want me to come along? We can recreate my first visit to Sea Lab.”

“And what if a customer comes while you’re lollygagging?”

“He’ll have to get his own boyfriend,” Ivan said, keeping his chin carefully out of range.

I had apprehensions. Being with Ivan meant I was on top of the world. Even as good as he made me feel, I had a persistent niggle that seemed like a warning. It said go slow. It said nothing is forever.

I brushed it off as nonsense.

Ivan was home. He showed no sign that anything might make him leave Dylan and me.

Then I remembered how quickly he was gone after getting the news about Boris. He was an impetuous youth. We were grown men now. Our lives were far too involved to walk away. 

End Chapter

Shower

Steam and Reflections

The warm steam melts the wrinkles from my clothes as I stare into the mirror, fading out of view, inward, into a sanctuary of illicit allure. I close my eyes, basking in the steam, and reflect on the day’s events. My focus, intense. My breath begins to catch, as if my anxiety has taken form, tightening its grip on my throat. My heart palpitates. My mind races. Yet a strange arousal stirs within, and the constriction is welcome. I unclothe, my mind numbed by anxious frights and curious appetite. I make my way to the shower; the cold bites at my feet; the steam wraps around me, but its warmth tempered by an unwelcome breeze. Everywhere, it seems, the chill flirts with me.

Punishing Purgation

Inhale. Left foot, lead.

The scorching water strikes my ankle, leaving a stinging bite.

Exhale.

Lured by the gaze of a breathtaking man, I step into his sanctuary, met with the comforting warmth but challenged by the sadism in his eyes. 

 
Inhale. Right foot, next.

Blistering droplets cascade over me, journeying from shoulder to buttocks to heel, painting my skin with red trails of dilated capillaries.

Exhale.    

Red trails turn to red lashes from a whip wielded with malice by one who loves pain. In a single breath’s exchange, I knew not when, my wrists are bound high and taut. Gone are my familiar clothes, replaced by scant, backless leather briefs. Shackled by will, I hang vulnerable, chest against the wall. The rough-hewn texture chafes my chest, occasionally grazing my nipples with each subtle move. My Dungeon Master making his presence known with every breathtaking strike.

Inhale.

I dip my head back to wet my hair, but am careful to keep my front dry. Two pumps of shampoo will do, and I lather it through my hair. The fragrance in the air, almost as a cue of my lewd habit, has my flaccid penis gorging blood.   

Exhale.    

Approaching from behind, my Chastening Master revels in the pain I endure. His right arm wraps around for a close embrace, his fingertips landing on my left nipple. He pinches and twists with thumb-middle finger grip, flipping the top with his index finger. My nipples redden and harden from the assault, and a deep tissue sting settles in. He brings his left hand around into my already open mouth. He plays with my tongue, running his index and middle fingers along the side of my tongue, applying pressure in a scissor-like grasp. Running under my tongue, back toward the front, his fingers meet and he proceeds down to the back of my thro—   

Inhale.    

With a deep abdominal convulsion, I dry heave as my throat constricts around my fingers, and blood rushes to my head. The pain is quite real, as if my nerves have been awakened from their frozen slumber. I clear my throat of guttural fluid, spitting out the viscous saliva. Looking down, it’s clear something else has awakened. With saliva still slick on my left hand, I fondle my scrotum. It has loosened in the heat, and I can’t help but smell the the pungent, genital odor encompassing my hand. From the tub’s edge, two pumps of balm, I palm.

Exhale.

Still chained, my freshly erect cock dangles, put adrift by untold fantasies, held adrift by anticipation. The slight downward angle like a dowsing rod, pointing to aquifers of semen ready for harvesting. Maintaining his position behind me, out of site, my Ferine Master, bulge in my ass, places a band clamp at base of my penis with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. I can tell there’s still a slight squish to my erect dick as I feel blood rush to my tip as he gently pulses his flesh ring. He lathers lubricant over my shaft, with the precision befitting a treasure. He then mirrors his left hand clamp with his right just in front of it. He loosens the clamps, moving the left clamp back, his pinky landing on my taint. Squeezing it tight, he thrust forward, simultaneously running the right clamp toward the tip. My pipe floods with blood and my tip swells. Each pump, one after the other, leaves my erection fuller, the tip pulsating with increased sensation.   

Inhale.

I have assimilated with pain, I forget my day, and focus on my excitation. I open my outer gates to Sodom, letting the water through, and gently press on my rectum. An unfrequented erogenous zone: the resistance keeps me out, but my craving overcomes. My right hand reaches behind as my left moves down, both targeting maximum ecstasy. My left hand rubs my inner thighs and plays gently with my taint, occasionally pinching my scrotum. My right fingers press on the entrance locked tight, trying to penetrate with a slippery sludge: the shampoo down my back that made it to my crack and the lotion, whose oily viscosity, now emulsified with water, has morphed into a slick lubricant. When the hinges are finally greased, and the inner gate is breached, an opus begins between my balls and ass which makes my bulged dick tingle uncontrollably.

Exhale.

I feel the damp breath of my Voracious Master on my shoulder before he sinks his mouth into my neck. He makes his way down my back, with oral play that could devour every inch of my body. He approaches my Sodom gates, and as if they weren’t there, plows his tongue deep into my ass. His teeth sink into my cheeks as his tongue probes deeper, knowing only approximately its target. With staggering haste, he has found my prostate. At each tongue’s pulse, I’m left with an urge to piss which subsides with each sporadic beat, leaving me longer, harder, and thicker with each cycle. 

Inhale?

“No.” I obey, a total slave to these proceedings. I’m unchained, in my shower, yet under the control of my Untamed Master. With my left hand, I stroke my shaft, midway then to the base. Holding it in place, the skin is tight, and each stroke of my right is intensified. The pre-cum, pumped out with each spasm of my pelvic floor, rejuvenates my lube, making my tip incredible slick. Unable to breathe and edged to the brink, my mind just cannot get enough. White froth begins to form on my shaft, I’m not sure how much more I can take before CUM! As if timed to the instant with cruelty, my Draconian Master, in his lustful damnation, denies my climactic release. In my denial, my balls throb in pain, and I’m left on the cusp of anguish.

Inhale?!

My lungs are begging for their rights, but my zealous mind conquers. I want nothing more than for my balls to retract and to open their climactic gates. But as if it were a commandment from my Unyielding Master, my kegels reach new feats. A brief moan slips out, distinctively primal, emanating from a well of primitive rapture. The rhythm of each stroke getting faster and faster as my heart races and I’m deprived of oxygen. Each thrust increasing in vigor, as my wrists weaken as they tighten and the muscles in my arms strain. I rise on my toes, my right hand slamming into my left at the base sending shockwaves to my balls with each impact.

Inhale!

My lungs are granted their respite. Feet, arched. Muscles, tight. Twitching in solitary exploitation. 

An Addict’s Limerick

The stress of the day washes away,

replaced by some dopamine play.

Though brief is the glee,

in ecstasy I’ll be,

anticipating tomorrow’s fray.

Mundane

Guilt, shame, anxiety: none of which are in my heart. I’m deserving of sin, a labor worth today’s struggles. As the cleaning fragrance fades from the thick steamy air, I am left with the fetid smell of the city water and biofilm on my shower tiles. With the best cum of my week, I return to the mundane life.

…to be continued.

---

Author’s Note:

Dear Reader,

The journey you’ve undertaken with my words has not gone unnoticed. There’s a certain intimacy in the act of reading, don’t you think? I’d welcome your insights, your critiques, as we explore the depth of this connection.

Please rate and leave feedback so that I can improve my writing and thus improve your experience.

Stay hard my friends,

Augriffe Grant

Mason had had eyes on his roommate, Lance, ever since the two moved in together last semester. However, Mason knew that there was not a chance in hell he would ever be able to divulge this secret to him.

Lance was your typical no-nonsense kind of college guy. He was a college sophomore, not that that mattered, since his attention was hardly ever put towards schoolwork. He was not a stranger to paying a nerd to do his homework for him while he went out and partied. To put it simply, Lance’s life was simply a frenzy of house parties, beer funnels, fake id’s, hot chicks, gym sessions, and occasionally a class or two.

And Lance was hot. The kind of guy that you see walking down the street, and you just have to turn around for a second look. How could you not?

Lance was tall, 6’3″-6’4″ at best. His body was perfectly proportioned, with every muscle crafted by Lance to be just the right size. His pecs were large and square, his stomach was divided into 6 perfect abdominals, and all of this was completed by his stellar v-line that acted as an arrow pointing to his concealed manhood. His arms were huge, as were his legs, and both were impeccably vascular. His body hair was limited to a light dusting on his arms and legs, but nothing more. Lance was perfect in every sense of the word – from his chiseled, symmetrical face all the way down to his size 13 feet.

Mason was equally as attractive as his roommate, making the two quite the pair. Mason, shockingly, was taller than Lance, though not by much. Mason was keen on keeping his body in tip-top shape and, as a result, was also a well-built, muscular young man. But unlike Lance, Mason was less of a maniac.

Although not a stranger to a night out, Mason much preferred to keep his nights in. Furthermore, Lance was respectful, cool-headed, and humble – much unlike Lance. Lance was prone to being smart-mouthed, cocky, and quick-to-anger (even if he wasn’t aware of it). But opposites attract, which is part of the reason why Lance and Mason make such great roommates. Mason calms Lance, and Lance hypes up Mason. It was the perfect balance.

But deep down, Mason was harboring a burning secret: he was attracted to Lance. Before college, Mason had never once suspected that he would be gay, or even bisexual. Up to this point, Mason had regularly participated in hypermasculine activities, and blended in quite well. He had a serious girlfriend through most of high-school, but the two wound up falling out due to long-distance come college.

Since both boys were bachelors, it was frequent that girls would be brought over to the apartment for a quick hookup. If one boy ever saw a sock on the handle of their roommates bedroom door, they knew exactly what to do: keep out. 

But as the time went on, Mason was bringing girls home less and less frequently. His eyes longed only for Lance. Soon, Mason began envying the young women that Lance was bringing over. Listening to the women’s ecstatic moans and screeches of pleasure as Lance drove his manhood in and out of them simply drove Mason insane. He would sit in his room, ear against the wall, imagining what Lance looked like in that moment.

He would imagine Lance’s cock sliding in and out of her. ‘What did it look like? What did it taste like?’. He would imagine the view of Lance’s muscular back flexing with each stroke, and his large ass moving up and down with each powerful thrust. He would imagine Lance’s strong hands and thick fingers being used as tools to bring a woman to orgasm, something that Lance was quite the expert in doing.

This is when Mason began secretly indulging in gay pornography. The sight of two handsome, muscular men getting at it was enough to make Mason cum almost instantly every single time. Often times while jerking off, he would catch his mind wandering off, imagining that the two actors on screen were him and Lance. This thought typically made his orgasms significantly more explosive.

Mason’s fantasies began growing exponentially. But up to this point, Mason had only ever seen Lance shirtless, and that wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

And he was gonna get more. No matter what.

One thing that both boys were aware of was that Mason was the stronger and bigger of the two. This was rarely discussed, as it was a giant bruise to Lance’s ego. Lance enjoyed being the biggest, strongest man in a room – and he always was, except for when he was at home.

So now, it was time for Mason to use that power.

“I’m just gonna take some pictures of him.” Mason whispered to himself while pacing in his room, phone in hand. “I’m just gonna take a picture or two. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”

As Mason repeated this mantra to himself, he could fear the faint sound of snoring coming from the neighboring room – a clear indicator that Lance was fast asleep. This was perfect. All Mason had to do was sneak in the room, snap a few photos of his scantily clad roommate, sneak back to his room, and jack off to the photos for eternity. No harm, no foul.

After finally finding the courage, Mason quietly opened his bedroom door, tip-toed down the hall, and gently creaked the door to Lance’s room open. A sliver of light flooded the room and cast itself onto the sleeping Lance. As Mason fully entered the room, he got a better look at his sleeping roommate – the sight of which made Mason feel woozy.

Lance was asleep on his stomach, hugging tightly onto a pillow he was clutching beneath his chest. The young man was clad in only a pair of white boxer-briefs and nothing else. Lance’s gigantic muscle ass was barely contained by the thin fabric, and looked as if it was about to burst out at any given moment. His giant, semi-hairy legs were sprawled out below him, giving sight to his massive quads, calves, and feet. His upper-body was slightly covered by a stray blanket, but still allowed his wide, muscular, and well-defined back to be visible.

Quietly, Mason pulled out his phone. He aimed the camera directly at his sleeping roommate, and snapped a photo. Simply glancing at the photo he had just taken, Mason felt a raging erection begin growing in his pajama pants. The photo was perfect – and put Lance’s entire muscular frame on perfect display.

“Okay,” Mason thought to himself, “Just one more…”

Mason placed the camera in between Lance’s feet, allowing him a perfect shot of Lance’s ass and taint area. From this angle, Lance’s massive bulge was now visible. With a quick tap, Mason had captured the view on his phone, but his thirst for more was yet to be quenched.

“Time to leave.” Mason thought. “You got what you wanted. Leave before you get caught!”

But Mason acted defiantly against the voices in his head, and before he knew it, his hands were reaching for the waistband of Lance’s boxer-briefs. “What are you doing?” Mason inadvertently thought, “Stop! This is going to get you in trouble!”

But Mason kept going, gradually sliding the white briefs right off of Lance’s body, all without waking him. Before he knew it, Lance’s muscular ass was now on full display for Mason’s enjoyment – and what a sight it was. It was big, muscular, and slightly hairy. As Mason continued yanking the underwear from his body, Lance’s cheeks recoiled ever-so-slightly. Impressive, considering how Lance himself had very low body fat.

Snap! Mason took another photo of Lance, ass out. But still, he wanted more. Mason knelt on the bed gently, as to not awaken Lance, and gradually lowered his head towards Lance’s ass. Saliva began building up on Mason’s tongue at the sight of this straight man’s luscious behind, but he knew not to touch. It was a miracle that Lance hadn’t woken up yet, but still, why risk it by touching him?

Mason aimed his nose mere inches away from Lance’s ass, and inhaled deeply. God, it smelled amazing. Lance clearly kept himself clean, as his ass smelled of body wash, day-old cologne, and slightly of sweat (likely from his gym session earlier in the day).

The smell broke Mason. He couldn’t take it anymore. Throwing any and all caution to the wind, Mason shoved his face right between Lance’s ass, and began ferociously licking at the tight, semi-hairy hole in between.

Lance immediately woke up with a screech, as the wet, foreign sensation began rummaging through his body. “What? WHAT THE FUCK?” Lance angrily cried out, attempting to wiggle himself away from the invader.

But Mason persisted, using his superior strength to his advantage. He continued lapping, licking, and circling Lance’s hole with his tongue, despite Lance’s best efforts to get away.

While still attempting to beat off the invader, Lance managed to click on the light next to his bed. Peering over his shoulder, the identity of the invader was finally revealed to him. “Mason?!” Lance cried out ferociously, “What the fuck are you doing?”

But Mason didn’t respond. Instead, he began tonguing Lance’s hole harder, and wrapped his strong arms tightly around Lance’s waist. Lance reached back and attempted to pry Mason’s head out from between his cheeks, but his attempts were futile. Mason was locked in place, and was not going anywhere anytime soon.

Lance couldn’t deny that the rimming felt good – too good. He tried desperately to stifle his moans, not wanting to cue to Mason that he was secretly enjoying this, but that wasn’t an easy task. As Mason aggressively rammed his tongue against Lance’s ultra-sensitive opening, he couldn’t help but cry out at the sensation.

Mason began taking mental notes of what motions and methods made Lance go the most crazy. A gentle lapping barely made Lance flinch, and a flat-tongue only made him moan. But what did drive Lance crazy was a healthy combination of tongue-punching and hole-circling, so much so that Lance screamed into the air like an animal being slaughtered.

Soon enough, Lance was wriggling and writhing on the bed, but no longer from a desire to get away. “Dude, why the fuck are you doing this?” Lance snapped.

“Shut up, you know you love it.” Mason fired back, finally pulling himself from between Lance’s legs. “I hear you moaning.”

“So what?” Lance spewed, “I can’t control what my body enjoys!”

“Tell you what.” Mason said, smiling deviously. “If you can go 30 seconds without making a single sound, I’ll stop. Deal?”

“Ok. Deal!” Lance agreed, feeling confident in his ability to self-control.

But the moment that Mason returned his face to Lance’s crack, the pleasure was off the charts. Every fiber of Lance’s body tingled as his hole was subject to this onslaught of stimulation. He could feel a moan bubbling up in the back of his throat, but did everything he could to suppress it, and Mason could sense his struggle.

“That’s right.” Mason teased between breaths, “Let it all out.”

Lance did everything he could to maintain his composure. He gripped the sheets between his fingers, gritted his teeth, squinted his eyes, and desperately tried to conjure up the least erotic thoughts he could manage. But nothing worked.

And then Mason hit a sweet spot, and all control was thrown out the window. As Mason attacked the sensitive spot with the tip of his tongue, Lance resumed to moaning and crying out like an animal in distress. The pleasure was simply too much for him to bear. Despite his dozens of sexual encounters with women, Lance had never once felt anything this good. It was truly bittersweet.

“Holy fuck! That feels so good!” Lance finally broke, a dribble of drool slipping from his mouth and running down his cleft chin. Lance, who was now fully hard, began rocking his hips back and forth on the bed, giving his cock the stimulation it needed.

Soon enough, Lance’s heart began to pound and his body began to sweat as if he were running a marathon. His tan skin began to turn red and sweat began to form all over. Sweat formed on his traps, ran down his lats, before slipping off the nape of his back and absorbing into the sheets. He was a wreck, a shell of the strong man he had been just minutes ago, but was growing to love every single millisecond of it.

His legs shook. His body convulsed. His dick was leaking pre-cum like a broken faucet. It was a bit much, too much.

Sensing Lance’s increasing enjoyment and acceptance of the situation, Mason pulled himself out from his cheeks, much to Lance’s frustration. “Wh- What are you doing?” Lance cried out desperately, “Keep going!”

“Keep going?” Mason teased. “Just a few minutes ago you were pissed and asking me to stop.”

“I changed my mind! Please keep going!” Lance pleaded.

Mason began gently fondling Lance’s squishy ass. “I want to try something different.”

“What?” Lance said with a nervous twitch.

Mason held his index finger up to his mouth, and hocked a good amount of spit onto it. With that, he began gently running the finger up and down Lance’s crack. “You wanna get fingered, big boy?” Mason whispered.

“I don’t think so.” Lance murmured, “I liked what you were doing before.”

“C’mon. It will feel good!” Mason assured. “I’ll only put in one finger, and we’ll go slow.”

“I really don’t think so.” Lance affirmed.

“Pleeeeaaaaseeee.” Mason cooed, beginning to gently rub the head of Lance’s pre-cum soaked cock. Lance let out a long, deep groan as Mason ran his thumb in a circular motion over the head, while using his remaining fingers to grip the swollen member. “What if I do this while I finger you, then will you let me?”

Hypnotized by the pleasure, a smile spread across Lance’s face. Unable to form any cohesive words, Lance simply nodded his head ‘yes’.

With permission granted, Mason slowly placed a finger at Lance’s opening, while still rubbing Lance’s cock. With great caution and care, Mason slowly began inserting his finger into Lance. Thankfully, the intense rimming session had loosened Lance’s virgin hole to a point where insertion was significantly easier.

To Lance, the finger didn’t feel like much at first. It didn’t feel good, but it didn’t feel bad either. It just felt like what it was – a finger up his ass. “Uh… is this supposed to feel good to me or something?” Lance asked, genuinely confused.

“It will. Just give it a moment.” Mason reassured, inserting his finger further. Mason was on a mission, and he knew exactly what he was searching for – Lance’s prostate.

Mason had only recently learned of the prostate through his recent gay porn obsession, but he still had a fairly good understanding of what it was. Even though the prostate had an actual biological function, Mason thought of it only as the ‘male g-spot’, though he had never actually made any effort to confirm this theory for himself… until now.

Lance’s mind began to wander as Mason continued poking and prodding around inside of him. Unlike Mason, Lance had absolutely no idea what was going on. “Dude, can we just go back to the rimming. I’m getting bored of thi- WOAH!”

Lance was cut off by a sudden lightning bolt of indescribable pleasure that shot through his body. Although it only lasted for a fraction of a second, it was enough to permanently change Lance’s feelings off ass-play. Lance’s hips bucked, and a solid shot of pre-cum splattered onto the sheets. “Dude… what was that you just did?” Lance groaned.

“Oh, I thought you were getting bored?” Mason teased, tapping the sensitive spot once again, only for an instant. Lance jolted and screamed once again, as that same pleasure rushed through his body. “You don’t seem so bored now.” Mason continued.

Mason tapped the spot again, and again, and again, never letting Lance experience the mind-boggling sensation for more than an instant. Each time Mason touched it, Lance would react as if he were getting tased. He would twitch, jolt, and scream, before instantly returning to a relaxed state when the stimulation ended.

Then, Mason went for it. He drove his finger deep into the sensitive spot, and began aggressively and consistently massaging it. Lance lit up like a firework on the Fourth of July. Words cannot even begin to describe the life-changing, mind-numbing pleasure that began to spread through Lance in that moment.

Deep and inhuman-esque moans began rushing from Lance’s drooling jaw as his prostate was thoroughly and continuously massaged by Mason. He clawed violently at the sheets, bit hard into his clenched fist, but nothing was enough. The pleasure was too intense, and Lance was loving every single second of it.

Mason, determined to make Lance cum, removed his hand from Lance’s cock to put more attention onto his ass. Lance was so caught up in the prostate massage that he didn’t even notice. At that moment, Mason quickly inserted his middle finger into Lance’s ass, and resumed rimming him at the same time.

Lance’s already intense pleasure only doubled as Mason began rimming him once again, while simultaneously rubbing hard against his prostate. Despite this being his first encounter with another man, Mason was playing Lance like a pro. There was no doubt in Mason’s mind that Lance was simply not going to be the same person after this life-altering experience.

Lance yanked his fitted sheet so hard that it ripped beneath him, damaging it permanently. His eyes rolled deep into the back of his head as those deep, ecstatic screams continued pouring from him. He was drenched in sweat, and every single muscle in his body was flexed to it’s absolute max, as his body attempted to cope with the pleasure.

“YEAH? I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING BORED?” Mason screamed into Lance’s ear. “YOU DON’T SEEM SO BORED NOW!”

Lance attempted to muster up a response, but simply couldn’t stifle his moans long enough to do so. But there was one sensation that Lance was beginning to grow very aware of – an unfamiliar sensation is his groin. It felt as if he was about to cum. But how? His cock wasn’t being stimulated at all. Panic-stricken, Lance began to come slightly back to reality.

“M- M- Maaaason. Something- Something’s wroooong.” Lance heaved between his moans.

“What is?” Mason said, feigning concern but not letting up on the prostate play.

“I think – I think I’m gonna cum!” Lance cried. “But- but that can’t be right? You aren’t touching my dick? I can’t cum! Right?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out!” Mason proclaimed. With that, Mason began massaging Lance’s prostate harder than he had ever before, and resumed rimming Lance’s ass.

Then, something strange happened. In that moment, Lance began to have an out-of-body experience due to the sheer physical effort his body was going through. In an instant, Lance felt as if he was watching the sexual encounter from a corner of the room, and was now able to get a perfect view of Mason and himself on the bed.

Lance saw himself sprawled out on the bed, his large and muscular frame covered in a thick sheen of sweat. His skin was beet-red, and the veins in his arms and face were pressing up against his skin. Lance then saw his face, a perfect reflection of the sensations his body was feeling. Eyes white, jaw open, fully covered in sweat, drool, and tears.

And just as quickly as it came, it went away. Lance’s consciousness returned to his body. That was when he heard Mason whispering into his ear.

“3… 2… 1…” Mason cooed.

Then, Lance began to orgasm.

Thick shots of white cum sprayed out from Lance’s swollen cock like a runaway firehose. His muscles tensed, his body convulsed involuntarily, and the world around him began to grow faint. Lance faded in and out of consciousness as Mason refused to let up. If he had the choice, Lance would spend the rest of his life in that exact moment. It was the most euphoric, pleasurable experience he had ever felt in his life.

Mason finally removed his fingers from Lance, depriving him of stimulation for the first time since they began. Lance pulled himself up to the top of the bed, hurdled into a ball, and continued convulsing as the orgasmic sensation continued ringing through him. Mason moved up next to him, and embraced the young man in his arms.

“You alright?” Mason asked.

“I- It still feels like I’m cumming!” Lance cried out as his body continued convulsing in Mason’s arms.

“Wow, really?” Mason inquired, genuinely shocked. “Well, you’re not. You already came!”

Lance glanced over his shoulder to meet Mason’s gaze. It was clear to both boys that a hunger still remained between them. They were not yet satisfied.

“Fuck me.” Lance whispered.

“You serious?” Mason asked.

Without a word, Lance shot up and sat himself doggy-style in front of Mason. “Fuck me right now, or so help me God!” Lance screamed.

Mason pulled himself up and placed himself directly behind Lance. Mason slid his pajama pants down around his legs, then pressed his cock against Lance’s opening. “You sure you’re ready” Mason inquired.

“Fuck me as hard and as fast as you can.” Lance assured.

And with that phrase, Mason shoved his cock fully inside of Lance in one swift motion. “Holy FUCK!” Lance screeched, as that same euphoric feeling rushed through him again. Except this time, it was way, way better.

If taking Mason’s fingers was the battle, taking his cock was the war. Just when Lance thought it couldn’t get any better, Mason’s cock began violently bashing against that sweet spot right inside of his anus, driving Lance to the moon and back.

Mason fucked Lance hard and fast, just as he had requested. The muscular man writhed beneath him, screaming and crying into his now-ripped sheets as unprecedented levels of pleasure began ripping through him.

And before he knew it, Lance was cumming again. As Mason continued violently pounding him, more ropes of cum began shooting out from his cock. And just as he began to settle down from his second orgasm, a third one began.

Lance’s mind simply couldn’t fathom what was happening. He had ascended from a state of constant pleasure to a state of constant orgasms. The moment that he would begin to settle down from one orgasm, another one would begin. There were no breaks, there was no rest. Just orgasm after orgasm. Even when Lance swore he was done, and there was no possible way he could cum again, Mason would hit that sweet spot just right, and he would be shooting ropes again as if he had never stopped.

Mason himself was also lost in the pleasure. Lance’s hole was warm and incredibly tight, which made for an amazing fucking experience. The sight of Lance’s ass jiggling with each thrust, and the sound of his balls slapping hard against Lance’s taint drove him crazy. This was better than anything he had ever seen in those silly pornos he used to watch. This was so much better.

Mason began pumping harder and harder, faster and faster, determined to cum inside of the insatiable bottom’s ass. Lance, who was easily on his ninth or tenth orgasm at this point, began pleading for his roommates cum to flood his ass.

“CUM IN ME! PLEASE FUCKING CUM IN ME!” Lance hissed, beyond desperate for the feeling of another man filling him up.

Just a few pumps later, Lance got his wish. Mason let out a loud, animalistic cry, before his own orgasm finally began. As the floodgates of cum opened and began filling Lance’s insides, he began to experience one final orgasm himself. Both boys fell into the bed, body’s intertwined, as they both came simultaneously.

Then, it was done. Mason slid his cock out from Lance’s ass, admiring the way the white liquid seeped out from his opening.

The room stunk of sweat. The sheets were torn, and covered in copious amount of cum, sweat, and drool. It was over. Mason finally got what he wanted.

“That was fucking intense.” Mason said, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

“I- I don’t think I’m ever gonna be the same.” Lance laughed, still recovering from his previous ambush of orgasms.

“Me either.” Mason said, before hopping off of the bed.

I was nineteen at the time and my uncle Ted fifty.

We were having to sleep together due to a crowd of people staying over at Christmas time.

I was a it of a heavy sleep then and did not realise what was happening until well into the wank.

My uncle had his hand down my pants and was tossing me off as I slept.

“Shhh!” he whispered in my ear “Just keep quiet and enjoy”.

I have to say I was enjoying it alright, my cock was rock hard and my uncle’s hand wanking it had me pretty well excited.

I was aware of my uncle’s stiff cock pressing against my arse as he wanked me good and the thoughts of grabbing hold of his bulging underpants brought me to orgasm in no time.

“Come in my hand lad” said my uncle whispering in my ear again.

“I want your spunk creaming my hand lad”.

His sexy whispering had my cock jerking and tossing it’s load. Back then I could shoot a fucking

pot full of sperm so I pumped a creamy fist full of jizz into my uncle’s hand as he tossed me right off.

“Keep this a secret lad” he whispered, moments before I spurted into his hand.

“Juicy, juicy spunk” he said moments after as he wanked my cum up and down my prick.

Without any warning he left the bed leaving my dick throbbing and creamy and walked out the door.

I caught a quick glimpse of his large bulging underpants and my dick jumped again seeping a last drop of spunk.

My uncle seemed to avoid me the next day and certainly made no eye contact. As I was having to sleep with him over the next few days I was hoping that he would toss me off again. and could not wait for night to come.

“Did you sleep alright Ted?” asked my mother

My uncle gave me a quick glance.

“Fine thanks” he replied.

“Hope our David didn’t fidget too much , he has been known to completely vandalize his bedding”.

“No”  replied my uncle “He was as good as gold” and my uncle winked at me.

I was nervously excited that night and had gone to bed before my uncle. I’d left the bedroom light on for him and was laying with a hand positioned over my eyes but with fingers apart so that I could sneakily watch my uncle undress.

He came into the bedroom some thirty minutes after me. I was feigning sleep with my hand still in it’s viewing position.

Uncle Ted began to undress just a yard or two away from me. Pulling up his ‘T’ short gave me a glimpse of his hairy chest and abdomen, a sight that had my cock twitching. He unzipped his trousers and yanked them off exposing a bright white pair of clinging designer briefs which outlined a hefty looking cock.

My mouth was completely dry now and my heart thumping wildly.

To my surprise and delight my uncle pulled off his briefs and stood naked before me his thick cock heavy and semi stiff.

My cock was straining stiff in my briefs and I’d wished that I’d taken my briefs off too.

Uncle climbed into bed with me and I pretended he’d woken me up.

He got in and spooned right up to me with me in his lap and feeling the hotness of his cock against my butt.

He whispered in my ear.

“You don’t need to be wearing underpants when you are in bed with me lad”

I didn’t answer but immediately felt his hands tugging my pants down.

My mouth was dry again, my heart thumping again and of course my cock was twitching and growing.

The heat of my uncle against me was incredible and the feel of his dick pressing against me so sexy.

He took hold of my cock again wanking it to it’s maximum stiffness, his hot breath on my neck.

“You like your old uncle wanking your cock don’t you lad?” he whispered.

“Yes” I mumbled feebly.

“Why don’t you wank my cock too then” he said whispering again and blowing hot air into my ear.

I reached  round for his cock  and got my fist around it. It felt so stiff and hot I just began wanking it.. It was a little difficult to get a full wank as he was behind me so I let him fuck into my fist which worked pretty well once he’d slobbered spit onto his cock.

“Oh! David this feels good” he whispered “Just like fucking into a nice tight hole”.

I was also enjoying his hand wanking me and hearing him whispering in my ear.

“I love this David lad. Love us being in bed together like this. Oh! Lad you’re going to make me cum”.

His prick felt good slipping back and forth into my fist, the shaft hot and meaty.

“Let me cum right on your tight little arsehole David Hold my cock and press it against your tight little hole and let me cum over it”.

His breathy words and wanking hand had me jerking my own load , a load he lathered my cock with.

“I love your cum in my hand David, it’s so slippery” he said

His cock was so stiff, a stiffness which meant that spunk was rushing from my uncle’s fidgety balls..

“It’s coming lad. Oh! Fuck! It’s coming”,

I did as he asked and pressed his knob against my arse hole. My timing was pretty good as he started to cum as soon as his knob rested against my hole.

I could feel the creamy cum load spurting against my tight hole and the feeling was incredible.

“Thanks lad” he whispered “That was one lovely creaming.

He moved away from me and began to lick my cum off his fingers.

“Sweet jizz lad, so sweet”.

He shut his eyes and was almost instantly asleep.

My dick was throbbing and sticky with spunk my arsehole wet with my uncle’s sperm. I put a finger against my creamy sphincter and pushed cum up my arse, it felt good. What I was now thinking of was feeling my uncle’s cock in my arse and spunking my hole up. The sexy thoughts kept me awake for a while but then I lay close to my uncle and fell to sleep.

In the morning I awoke with a raging hard on, a stiffness uncle Ted was already appreciating.

The randy man was under the sheet sucking on my knob and gripping my stiff shaft good and hard.

My groans alerted him that I was awake but he didn’t stop sucking me and there was no way I was going to stop him as it felt fucking wonderful.

His mouth engulfed my prick his lips gripping my shaft and going down my cock till my dick was right in his throat.

I was so excited and wanted to see what he was doing to me so I pushed the covers off just as he was removing my dick from his throat and mouth.

“Fuck!” he whispered  “Just look at your stiff cock David. All wet and glistening with my saliva”. Then he slid my cock into his mouth and back down his throat.

Hearing somebody approaching the bedroom had us both in a panic but luckily we managed to get under the covers and pretend to be asleep as my mother came into the room with two cups of tea.

“Here you are. Just what you want boys a nice cup of tea” said mum.

A cup of tea was the last thing on my mind but we managed to convince her we were just waking and sat up to appreciate the tea.

“Bet you’ll both want something hot for breakfast so I’ll get back to the kitchen and leave you to enjoy your tea”.

She left the room and my uncle suggested that we leave the tea and get back to what we were doing.

I was all for that and thought that he was going t get back down on my prick but instead he pushed the covers off and held his stiff rampant dick upright in his hand.

“Why don’t you suck on this lad” he whispered

“Get your uncle’s old cock in your hot mouth and suck?”

I was nervous but eager to try it as his prick was so stiff and handsome.

At first I rolled my tongue over his uncut knob licking all around the ridge and then teasing the tight thread of skin on the back. Moments later I had half of his cock in my mouth and was sucking on it like it was a lollipop. Uncle was pretty well laid back about it and was sipping on his tea as I continued to slurp all over his rigid cock.

I began to wank his shaft as I sucked and he began to moan with pleasure.

“Sip some tea” he said “Get your mouth even hotter and then suck my cock again”.

I stopped sucking briefly, took a swill of the hot tea and immediately engulfed half of his cock again.

“Oh! David!” he whispered “That feels so hot, so fucking hot”.

With no warning at all my uncle began to cum I my mouth, his prick jumping on my tongue, his spunk rushing inside my mouth.

I held the cum in my mouth not knowing if to swallow or not. Instead I let it run from my mouth all down his cock and onto his balls. The taste was pretty nice and was making my dick jerk excitedly.

I began to lap up the cum, licking it back up to his knob and then sucking his cock to get most of it back into my mouth.

“I didn’t want to cum so quick lad but your sucking is so fucking good” he whispered. Then he pulled me off of his cock and began to kiss me letting his tongue rove around my mouth to taste his own spunk.

“We better drink up and go down for breakfast” he said getting out of bed. “I’ll see to you later lad”.

I felt pretty short changed and I was longing to toss myself off but the thought of him ‘seeing to me later’ kept me focussed on that.

“A quick shower and then I’ll see you at breakfast lad”.

He was at the door and turned back to me to whisper “Keep all of that cum for your old uncle won’t you?”

I nodded yes and he was gone.

I was so frustrated all day. The whole family were going out together for  a show matinee at the local theatre for a Christmas treat and there was no way uncle and I would be allowed to stay home. During the interval of the show however my uncle told me to follow him to the toilet. Once inside he all but dragged me into a cubicle and pulled my cock out.

“I’ve been wanting this all day” he said and he began to suck on my prick with a cock hunger like no other. Watching his expert mouth and tongue service my stiff dick was amazing and with only a little time on our hands he managed to edge me seven times. Eventually he made it his business to see that I shot my excited load directly down his throat.

I could hear the music starting up again in the theatre and knew that we had to get back to the family but my uncle was still sucking and drawing the last drops of spunk from my prick.

“We have to go” I said pulling away from him at last.

“Well you better make it up to me in bed tonight David. I’m as horny as fuck lad” he said and we reluctantly returned to the auditorium.

It was pretty uncomfortable for me, sitting there with my sticky knob stuck to my underpants but the thoughts of another hot session with my uncle that night made everything worth while.

I lay naked in the bed waiting for my uncle to come upstairs. My cock was already rock hard and my heart as usual was thumping with anticipation.

I lay on my side facing the wardrobe mirror, from there I could see the door clearly as I left the light on..

Some twenty five minutes later my uncle came in and began to undress, He was soon naked and working his cock to a good stiffness before he slid into the bed next to me.

He snuggled up close to me and I could feel his dick against me.

“I’ll leave the light on David as usual. We want to see what we’re doing don’t we lad?

His breath was hot in my ear his hand feeling for my dick

“What I really want to do lad ” he whispered “Is fuck you. Would you like your old uncle to fuck you?”

I told him that I wanted him to try but I couldn’t promise that he would get inside my tight hole.

“I have plenty of saliva lad, it will go in believe me”.

I was a little tense as soon as his hot knob touched my hole.

“Relax lad, relax and it will go in nice and tight”.

I took a deep breath and just let my body relax and he shoved his knob into me with a grunt.

“Oh! Fuck! That feels so hot lad” he whispered, his hand wanking my cock. “So lovely and hot”.

His dick hurt and I began to push against it but to no avail so I began to make a lot of noise as he tried to get into me.

“Shhhh!” he said clamping a hand over my mouth

“You’ll disturb the whole fucking house, Just relax and open up for me”.

I couldn’t do anything else but do as he said so I tried to totally relax.    

He pushed some more and my instinct was to tighten up my hole to stop him but he was determined and kept pushing until my arsehole gave way and his dick slid in.

My arse felt packed full of cock, which of course it was, and my whole body was trembling.

My uncle eased his hand off of my mouth and I began to moan as he started to fuck into me.

He was getting into full fuck mode and my arsehole was opening up nicely when my mother tapped on the door and just walked in.

“Are you alright? Only I could hear a lot of noise”.

“Yes” said my uncle thinking quickly.

“David had a leg cramp and was in agony for a few minutes, but he’s O.K. now aren’t you David?”

I was O.K. alright. My uncle’s cock was still stuffed in me as my mother stood only a yard away.

“That’s good then” said mum “Do you want me to turn your light out?.

“No” said uncle “I need to go to the loo, so I’ll do it”

Mum smiled , said goodnight and left the room.

My uncle was soon shunting his prick back and forth in my arse again and I tried to stifle my moans as he fucked me .

The fucking was getting really good and I was loving the feel of my uncles cock shafting me and longing to feel it pulsating a bollock load of spunk up my arse.

With the fuck getting more raunchy the bed began to squeak a lot and I began to moan louder and louder meaning that the noise had to be muffled by my uncles hand.

The bed squeaking got louder too but uncle was in hard fuck mode and was now on my back pounding his cock up my arse and tugging at my dick at the same time.

The feeling was so good, my prostate getting worked over wildly and my sphincter now gaping for my uncle’s stiff cock.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you all week lad” said uncle whispering into my ear.

“Fuck you’re making my cock feel so good lad. Fuck! It’s just heaven”.

I was so excited now and wanted the fuck to last forever it was so good. The thought of our noise disturbing the rest of the house was not important anymore I just needed my uncle’s rigid cock fucking me, my lust for dick uncontrollable now.

“Do you want your old uncles spunk spurting up your hot randy arsehole lad? Do you want to feel my cock throbbing out my load deep in your lovely arse?”

With his hand still over my mouth I could do no more than mumble that is until my own cock began to cream off in my uncle’s wanking hand.

I didn’t care about sticky bed sheets as I pumped my load out and my uncle certainly didn’t mind a creamy fist full of cum.

“Nice lad”, he whispered. “Juicy cum in my hand as I fuck you”.

He rolled me onto my back and stuffed his throbbing cock back up my arse. I wrapped my legs around him and he began to deep fuck me.

His cum creamed hand didn’t go un noticed, he was licking at it and fucking and then letting me lick at his hand.

“I’m going to cum now lad, I need to fucking cum” he said and he leaned over and kissed me, cum running from his mouth into mine as we tongue wrestled.

A loud groan and he was dumping his spunk into me, his pulsating prick churning out his sperm for my waiting arsehole.

He kept fucking me until his balls were totally drained and as a final gesture of insatiable lust he began to rim my arsehole out and feed on his own cum.

It was a fucking to remember and was the beginning of a fantastic gay affair that is still going strong.

Of course we are older now but my uncle’s cock still stands as rigid as ever, still spurts a fantastic load and my arsehole is his forever.