Author: admin

I was a bit of a loner with very few friends, curious about my sexuality and wanted to dabble in cross-dressing. I was also looking to move out from the family home, but I wasn’t working and couldn’t afford my own place. With all the confusion in my head, I just didn’t feel right staying at home. Anyway, I got chatting to one of my good friends about moving out and he told me that his dad had a spare room in the flat above his café. He then phoned his dad and told him I was looking for a job, and a place to stay.

The next day, my friend introduced me to his dad Steve. He was a handsome man in his mid 40’s, and recently divorced. Anyway, he was looking for waiting staff for the café and offered me a job on a week’s trial. I accepted the offer and asked when I could move in. He said I could start work the next day and move in anytime I wanted, and set the room rent at £30 per week. I was happy with the arrangement, and then headed home to break the news to my parents.

That evening came round quickly, and I started to pack my bags. My parents seemed happy enough to let me move out, and my dad even dropped me off at Steve’s flat, handing me £30 for my first weeks rent.  I got out of the car and pressed the buzzer on the flat door. The door lock clicked open and I went inside with my bags.

 Upon my arrival, my friend Gareth was there and stayed a while until I got myself settled.  He left about 9pm, leaving just me and his dad. I sat down on the armchair, and Steve started asking me questions, like why I wanted to leave home and how I liked to spend my free time. He seemed trustworthy, so I told him the truth.  I explained that I felt confused with my sexuality, but was scared of what my family would make of it, and that I thought about cross-dressing. Steve looked at me with a smile on his face, and told me that his ex-wife had left some clothing behind when she left, and that I was welcome to help myself to it. He also told me that whatever happened in this flat, stayed there. I said thank you and the subject changed to sex.

Steve continued looking at me, before asking why I felt sexually confused. I told him that I had seen gay porn magazines and liked what I saw, but never had the courage to experiment with other guys. Steve then beckoned me to come over and sit beside him on the sofa, and I did. He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head, before saying that I could practice sexual acts on him if I wanted to. I told him I was only 16, but that didn’t deter him. He then stood up and took me into his bedroom, asking if I would sleep in with him. Nervously, I said yes and we both stripped down to our underwear and got into bed together. Nothing sexual happened that night, we just cuddled in bed.

The next morning, Steve woke me up with his hand inside my boxer shorts, wanking me off. His cock was pressed firmly against my bum, and he was dry humping me as he stroked my hard cock. I reached behind me and grabbed his throbbing manhood, thinking to myself, how big he was. I started to wank him off making him moan with delight. I couldn’t believe what was happening, and with my best friend’s dad. Anyway, we continued wanking each other off until we both ejaculated. He had cum right up my back, and I had cum in his hand.  He then got up, went for a shower and got dressed ready to go open the café. I laid on a while longer, and then went to have a look what clothes his ex had left.

In the bags and boxes, there were all sorts of stuff. Knickers, bras, sexy lingerie and other stuff including skirts, skinny jeans and leggings. I pulled out a royal blue and black Basque and matching thong and suspenders, before trying it on. It fit perfectly and felt amazing on me, so I kept took it off and put it to one side. I needed to get some stockings to put with it for the outfit to work. Then I tried on a pair of the skinny jeans, and again, perfect fit. They even showed my ass off beautifully, so I added them to the keep pile. There was plenty more to rummage through, but I had to get ready for my first shift in the café. But, as I went downstairs, Steve told me I wasn’t needed yet as it was quiet. I whispered to him that I had tried some of his ex’s stuff on and it fit perfectly.  He asked if I needed anything to go along with it, and I said I needed stockings. Steve pulled me aside and told me there were a couple of packets in the top drawer of the chest in the spare room.  I said thank you and that I’d have a nice surprise for him when he got time.

Seeing as I wasn’t needed, I went back up to the flat and found the stockings. I then undressed and put on the sexy lingerie again. I struggled with the stocking clips a little, but eventually figured them out and was soon ready. The material felt amazing against my skin, and I began to get aroused when I saw myself in the full-length mirror. All I needed now was for Steve to come up and see for himself.

Half hour had passed and I heard the flat door open. Steve was back, so I stepped out into the living room for him to see me dressed up. He took one look and whipped is cock out, which was throbbing hard. I moved slowly towards him, kneeling down at his feet and asked if he liked what he saw. He did, so I took hold of his massive cock and began to lick the tip and the shaft, before taking him in my mouth for a short while. Steve was really horny, and asked if I wanted to try anal with him. I was weary of it due to his cock size, but I really wanted to try it and said yes if he went easy on me, and stopped if I told him to.  He then asked me to kneel on the sofa, so he could prepare me. I did as he asked and he proceeded to pull my thong aside and stick his tongue in my anus. Steve gave my hole a good licking, making it nice and wet. He did that for a few minutes, and then got into position ready to penetrate me.

The feel of his cock pressing against my opening, and the tip entering me made me let out a loud squeal as it did hurt a little. Then slowly, Steve pushed himself in further, inch by inch until the initial pain went away. My whole body shuddered with excitement as I managed to take the entire length of his huge tool. He asked me how it felt, and if he was okay to carry on. I said yes and he slowly began to push in and out, picking up speed every few thrusts. It just felt so good and made me cum several times before he finally reached orgasm and filled my hole with his jot sticky load. Now, I was no longer confused about my sexuality and was more than happy to give my anal virginity to Steve.

Leigh continued to have his way with me on Monday’s after school.  He dominated and manhandled me, but wasn’t too rough.  I liked being the bitch of this otterish, thirty-something soldier. And he seemed to like fucking me.

Ben joining us a couple of weeks ago had been a surprise.  He was around forty, handsome, and manly.  Well groomed, he looked, and dressed, like you imagine a drill sergeant would, and he showed little mercy.  Ben used me hard during our threesome.  At first it was painful and shocking, but as I got used to it, it felt good, it felt right.  Apparently, I really enjoyed being used by men, both the pleasure and discomfort.

I was waiting for my connecting bus near Leigh’s place on Wednesday, when a car pulled up.  Ben leaned over to the open window.

“Get in,” he said, simply.  When I hesitated, he pushed the door open, and said, “Come on.”

He was alone, and I wasn’t sure what to think, but got in the passenger seat, and closed the door.

“Where’s Leigh?” I asked him, as he pulled away.

“Just me, today,” he said, as if there was nothing unusual about him, a man who I’d met once, and who’d fucked me senseless, picking me up off the street.

“What?…,” I stammered, still unclear and a little wary.

“I had fun the other day,” he told me.  “Thought I’d take you home, and have you to myself.”  He glanced over at my uncertain face.  “You do want me to rape that hot little arse of yours again, don’t you?”

I was a little scared, both at the use of the word ‘rape’, and Leigh’s absence from whatever would happen.  Leigh had constrained Ben a bit during the threesome, and I wasn’t sure how far Ben by himself would go.  The incredibly manly combination of Ben’s smell and his old fashioned after-shave wafted over me as he slapped his meaty hand on my thigh, and I got hard instantly.

“Yeah,” I said without thinking, because the truth was that I did want him to ‘rape’ my arse, again.

“Outstanding,” he grinned wolfishly, and massaged my hard on.  “Knew you were a total whore.”

The drive to Ben’s place took about ten minutes, during which his free hand didn’t leave me, exploring my mouth, tits and crotch.  He placed my hand on his bulge, and I dutifully worked him to a girthy erection. From the car to his flat, I was propelled forward by a firm hand in the crack of my arse.

Inside, he ordered me to strip.  I started to undress, but I must have been too slow.  Ben slapped me hard across the face.  I looked at him in shock.  

“Hurry up, bitch,” he said, menacingly.  “Leigh isn’t here to protect you.  If you’re going to be my whore, you need to jump to it.”

I hurried up, and stood there shivering a little while he got undressed.  I was scared and excited in equal measure, and so turned on as he revealed his hairy body.  He came over, and I rain my fingers through his beautiful chest hair.  He swatted them away, and slapped me again.

“You do as you’re told, and nothing else,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied, uncertainly.

Whack!  He slapped me harder this time.

“Yes, what?” he asked.  I stared at him dumbly.  “Yes, Sir,” he stressed.

“Yes, sir,” I said quietly.

He grabbed my head, and ate at my mouth, his heavy five-o’clock shadow rasping against my face.  I went slightly limp, letting him take control, and sucking hungrily on his tongue.  One of his hands found my tits, and I squawked as he twisted them in turn.

Next, he grabbed a handful of my hair, and pushed my head up against his chest.  The feel of his fur was fantastic.  I took his erect nipple in my mouth, and suckled.  His smell, his hairiness, the sheer manliness of him was intoxicating.  I wanted him to own me.

Ben spat on the fingers of his other hand, and shoved them into my arse.  I cried out, and he pulled my head up by the hair to look into my pained face.  He smiled malevolently, and pushed harder into my strained hole.  My expression, a mixture of pleading for mercy, and for him not to stop, obviously excited him, and his tongue went deep into my mouth.

Once again I was propelled forward by his hand, in rather than on my arse.  In the bedroom, he shoved me onto the bed, and climbed up onto me.  His fur rubbing against my smooth body was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced, and I reveled in the weight of this virile man pressing down on me.

Ben kissed me urgently, uncaringly.  My face was already feeling raw with pash-rash*.  How would I explain it?  He worked his knees under my legs, and ground against my bare arse.  He held my wrists together over my head with one paw, and the other roamed my body.  My senses were overwhelmed by his assault, the bruising physicality of it.

Suddenly, he was off me, and he flipped me over to my stomach.  He rummaged in a draw, and returned with a couple of pairs of handcuffs and rope.  My eyes must have betrayed my alarm.

“I like my whores, helpless,” he simply said, and proceeded to handcuff each of my wrists to a corner of the bed frame at the foot.  While he tied my ankles to the bedhead, I noticed his wardrobes all had mirrored doors.  In this position, I could watch everything he did.  And more importantly, Ben could watch my reaction to everything he did.  He hoisted my hips up off the bed so he could stuff a couple of pillows under my midsection.  I was definitely helpless, and gulped nervously at the thought of what he was going to do to me.

Ben knelt with one knee on the bed, and twisted my head so he could fuck my face.  I gagged and spluttered against his cock, deep in my mouth.

“Look at me, whore-boy,” he ordered.  I looked over at the mirrors, and our eyes met.  My face was a picture of pain and distress; his leered back at me, the corners of his mouth upturned.  He brutally assaulted my mouth, forcing me to keep his gaze the whole time.  It was painful and degrading, and I was really getting off on it all.

Having had enough of my mouth, Ben got up on the bed beside me.  He reached a hand around, and insert his fingers into my mouth.  I was drooling saliva from the face fucking, and I sucked on them, and covered them in my spit.  I was right in guessing this was what he wanted.  Still looking intently into my eyes, he took the slicked hand, and shoved it into my hole.  I grimaced and tried to stifle a cry.  He dug into my arse savagely, and enjoyed my discomfort.  When I finally howled, he stuffed his other hand in my mouth, and treated it the same as he was treating my arse.  He held me fast between his hands, my anguished cries muffled by his hand.  He virtually lifted me off the bed, skewered between his thick, hairy arms.  I moaned and gasped.

When he finally withdrew his hands, I slumped down on the bed, and whimpered.  Before I knew what was going on, a large, red ball appeared in my face, with straps attached.  It was a little smaller than a billiard ball I suppose.  I’d never seen anything like it before, and had no idea what it was for.  Ben yanked my head back by the hair, and took advantage of my mouth falling open to shove the red ball into my mouth.  He deftly buckled the strap behind my head tightly, so the ball was lodged hard in my mouth, stretching the corners of my mouth.  I was having my first experience of a ball-gag.

“I like my whores quiet, too,” he told me, looking at my dismayed face in the mirrors.

I tried to protest, but the ball-gag muffled and distorted my words.

“What’s that, whore-boy?” Ben asked. “You want me to rape you, now?”  That wasn’t what I’d said, but I realised that was what was going to happen.  I grumbled incomprehensibly some more, and he snorted a derisive laugh.  “Come on, you fucking whore.  We both know, you’re loving this.”  And he was right.  

He got behind me, eyes still on mine in the mirror, and the rough fingering – or more accurately handing – of my arse resumed.  I moaned against the gag, and strained at the bindings, spurring him on.  My face fell forward on the bed, but he jerked it back with a handful of my hair.

“You keep looking at me, whore-boy.”

I obeyed, and he released my hair.  Then he squatted between my legs, parted my arse cheeks, and buried his face in my crack. He ate at my hole, and pushed in with his tongue, and the gag prevented me from articulating the extraordinary sensations I was experiencing.  his five-o’clock shadow, grazed at the inside of my cheeks.  I never conceived of pash-rash in my arse before.  I wouldn’t need to explain that to anyone but my doctor.

I’d relaxed my head against the bed, but it was pulled up roughly again by the hair, as cool air flowed over my hole.  Ben’s eyes were again on mine.

“What did I say, whore-boy?”

I whimpered and looked into his face obediently.  His hand still clenching my hair, he drove his cock straight into my arse to the hilt.  I screamed into the ball-gag.  Fortunately it was more from shock than pain.  Practice with Leigh, and Ben’s savage fingering, meant I was reasonably loose.  None-the-less, I had little time to get used to Ben’s girth, as he immediately pounded away at me.

Every time my head sagged, he would pulled it up roughly.  I was to look into his eyes for every stroke.  He was loving the look of thrill and torment washing across my face.

I thought he’d had my arse as hard as he could.  That was before he rose up on his hands and feet, and started slamming into me, hammering me against the bed.  I grunted into the gag, but was loving every minute of it.  My prostate was firing lightening bolts through my body, and I was delirious.

I was gasping with pleasure constantly, and Ben told me continually what a whore I was.  How I was loving his cock.  That I was only good for being used.  I was in dazed ecstasy at the combined verbal and physical assault.

Even Ben couldn’t keep up this pace for long, and he returned to kneeling for the finale.  Hands firmly grasping my upraised hips, he pounded into me with three massive strokes, punctuated by, “Filthy… Fucking… Whore!”  Then held my arse against his crotch, and yelled, as he unleashed a massive load into me.

Thoroughly spent, he collapsed onto my back.  I panted through my nose, but relaxed, loving the feeling of his body on mine, again.  It was so hot that he’d taken so much pleasure in using my body, and his hairy warmth against my back was my reward.

Ben must have dozed while on top of me, because he jerked awake a short time later, and realised he was still on top of me.  He removed the ball-gag, and kissed me languidly and at length.  I sucked hungrily at his tongue.

Gazing into my eyes more tenderly than he had up to now, he said, “You are one sweet little whore.”

I smiled in appreciation, and he grinned back.

“I suppose, I better get you home,” he said.

He untied and uncuffed me, and I got up unsteadily.  He led me to the bathroom, supporting me a little.  We took a shower together, him gently soaping my body and rinsing me down, frequently holding me against his manly, hairy body.

As Ben scrubbed my arse, lust must have taken over again, and he shoved me against the tiles.  A hand pressed me against wall, and his cock in my arse pinned my body.  His pounding didn’t last long this time before he tensed inside me, and gasped his orgasm.

Again satiated, he turned me around, held my wrists to the wall above my head with one hand, and stroked me with the other.  While he pleasured me, he alternated between kissing me deeply, and gazing into my eyes.  I came all over him.

He washed me down again, and drove me home.  As I got out of the car, he said, ” I’ll be back whore-boy.”

* For a while pash-on (a word play on passion) was the Australian equivalent of snogging.  It fell out of favour some time ago, but the term pash-rash lives on.  It means a face (or other parts) rubbed raw by a guy’s stubble.  I love a bit of pash-rash.

Henry and I decided it was time to tell both of our families about our relationship. Henry already had his own apartment, he just told his parents he was moving to a better place. I had been staying with my parents since I had moved back to New York and told my parents that I was getting a place of my own. We had been in our new apartment for a few weeks and were going to invite each of them over for dinner, then tell them everything. I assumed my father would be the one to react the most negatively, so I invited my parents first, figuring we should get the worst out of the way.

Henry and I were in the kitchen putting the final touches on our meal when my parents arrived. I gave Henry a quick kiss, took a deep breath and let my parents in.

Mother smiled as she said, “something smells good.”

I smiled, “thank you, we will eat soon, first I have something I want to tell you. Please have a seat.”

They gave me a concerned look as they sat down, and Henry walked in from the kitchen.

I took a deep breath, “Mother, father, this is my friend Henry, He lives here with me.”

Mother looks at me, then at Henry and smiled, “nice to meet you, Henry.”

Henry smiled and returned the greeting.

Father furrowed his brow, “you asked us over to tell us you have a roommate?”

I chuckled, “no father, Henry is more than a roommate, he is a very good friend.”

Mother was looking between me, father, and Henry trying to understand what I was saying.

Father shrugged, “fine, so you are sharing an apartment with your very good friend, that’s nothing unusual.”

I sighed, “Father, this is a one-bedroom apartment, that bedroom has one bed. Henry and I are sharing more than an apartment, we are sharing our life together.”

I saw that mother understood what I was saying. Slowly realization came over father’s face, he looked at me than at Henry. He shrugged, “so, you are telling us that you are dandies?”

I chucked, “yes father, you could say it that way.”

He looked Henry, up and down, then at my mother, then back to me. He shrugged, “you could do worse, he seems like a nice boy.”

I was stunned, I said, “pardon me father?”

He held his hands up and said, “what?”

I asked, “you aren’t upset with me?”

He shook his head, “well, I would prefer you to be normal, but you are my son. I have already lost one son, and I am still worried about losing Nikoli, I don’t want you to go away again.”

Tears started to roll down my cheeks as I went to my father and wrapped him in a big hug. As we broke our hug, I turned to my mother, she was hugging Henry, tears were also running down her cheeks. I gave her a hug as Henry and my father shook hands. Relieved, I gave Henry a quick hug as Mother and father both sat back down.

Father said, “well, what’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

I laughed, “please, take a seat at the table and we’ll bring out the food.”

As we began to eat, I said, “thank you father, for being so accepting.”

He said, “look Ivan, I am not stupid, your mother and I have known you were, well I guess we should say, special, since you were young. Even though George Hampton is a horrible gossip, I heard what he said, and it made sense. I have had a lot of time to accept things.”

I smiled, “thank you father.”

We had an evening of pleasant conversation, my parents seemed to really like Henry, I was so happy. As they were leaving my father shook Henry’s hand, he said, “it was nice to meet you and I meant it when I said Ivan could have done worse.”

My mother hit him, “Peter, Henry is a very nice young man, why must you say such things?”

He scuffed, “I know he’s a nice young man, certainly a much better man than that clown Sasha brought home last month.”

Mother shook her head as she pushed father out the door, Henry and I were laughing as we closed the door behind them.

Henry smiled at me, “that went well.”

I grinned, “yes, it did. So much better than I expected.”

I pulled him in for a kiss, we hurried to our bedroom and stripped out of our clothes. We fell on the bed in a sixty-nine and feasted on each other’s cocks. Once we had each other thoroughly worked up, Henry rolled me onto my back and pushed my legs up into the air. He went to work on my hole, first with tongue, then with his rock-hard manhood. He leaned down and we kissed as Henry pumped in and out of my love tunnel. We stayed locked together in that position until we could take it no longer. Both of our cocks began to shoot at the same time, Henry’s in my ass, and mine trapped between our sweaty stomachs. Once we caught our breath, we cleaned up and held each other as we drifted off to sleep.

The following week, Henry invited his parents to our apartment, we were hoping it would go as smoothly as the previous week with my parents. It did not. When Henry’s mother heard him explain our relationship, she immediately stood up, telling Henry that he was dead to her and that we would both be going to hell. His father tried to calm her down, but he was not exactly pleased with the news either, they left without eating.

Henry was clearly upset, I did my best to comfort him. He told me that it didn’t matter, as long as we were together, he would be fine. I could tell he was trying to be strong for me.

I asked, “what are you going to do about work tomorrow?”

He shrugged, “I guess I will just go in and take my things and leave, I am sure my father will no longer want me to work with him.”

We tried to sleep, but I felt Henry toss and turn all night. The next morning, I kissed him goodbye and told him to let me know if he needed me for anything. I had received my next script and tried to busy myself with learning my lines, as the day went on and Henry didn’t come home, I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. Henry finally came home at his regular time, I met him at the door as he walked in.

I asked, “so, how did it go?”

He gave me a slight smile, “I will still be working with my father.”

I sighed, “ok, that’s good, right?”

He nodded, “yes, when I got to the shop, I asked him if he wanted me to gather my things and leave. He said that he didn’t, he told me he was sorry about the way mother had reacted. While he wasn’t pleased with the news, he still wants me to be in his life and work with him. He would try to understand my feelings and respect my choices.”

I asked, “what did say to him?”

Henry continued, “I told him that I was going to stay with you and if he wanted to see me, he had to live with that. He told me that he would and that he would continue to talk to my mother. He still wants me to take over the shop when he retires in a few years.”

I gave him a hug and a kiss, “I’m sorry I caused you to have to go through this.”

He gave me a kiss, “it is not your fault, I’m not sorry at all. I know what you meant now when you said you felt so free after you told your studio about us. I still have things to work out with my family, but I do feel like a weight has been lifted of my shoulders.”

Over the next few months, Henry and his father’s relationship returned to what it was before our announcement. His mother did start talking to him again, but we agreed I would keep my distance until she was ready to see me.

I made the two movies to fulfill my contract and Henry was able to come with me to California on my last trip. Woodrow O’Neill’s prediction on the direction of the industry came true. The Supreme Court, in May of 1948 ruled that the studios had a monopoly on the film industry. For nearly twenty years, they owned the studios, the distribution, and the theaters. They also controlled all the talent with their restrictive contracts. All the studios were ordered to sell off the theaters, over the next few years they did just that. Mr. O’Neill decided he had had enough, he sold his studio to MGM.

The way the studios handled the actors also changed significantly. Actors were no longer tied to one studio, they were free to work for any studio. They were now being paid by the movie and many were starting to negotiate a portion of the profits of the film. Although the studios didn’t like the changes, they actually benefited everyone. The actors were getting paid better, the studios were producing better movies resulting in better ticket sales. There were more smaller studios starting up to give the big guys some competition and they could all choose from a large pool of talent, not just the ones they had under contract. Through the early fifties, I was still doing a couple movies a year and had worked for several of the major studios.

Henry’s father decided it was time to retire and as promised, Henry took over the shop. He hired a young barber to help him, and his business was doing well. After my last movie, I took a short break and directed a play in one of the larger theatres. It was well received, and I enjoyed the experience, but I did miss being on the stage myself.

Doing movies in California was a little easier now that commercial air travel was in place. Instead of spending three or four days on a train, I was now able to be back in New York in a day. As I was deciding on my next movie, I got a call from Carl.

He asked, “Ivan, what are you working on right now?”

I said, “I just finished a project, I am looking for my next one, why?”

He said, “Roger and I just finished a script, I want to send it you and see if you would be interested in working with us.”

I replied, “of course I would love to look at it, what is it about?”

He chuckled, “it’s called “California Dreaming”, it’s about two young guys that want to be actors, one is from New York, and one is from Detroit. They meet when they audition for the same play.”

I laughed, “are you serious?”

He said, “yes, I am. I have a couple of young actors to play the lead characters for the first part of the movie, but I need a more mature actor for the last portion of the story.”

I was still laughing, “thank you for saying mature instead of old.”

He said, “your welcome, so what do you think?”

I asked, “how accurate is the story?”

He chuckled, “well, I left out the intimate stuff if that is what you mean. I don’t think the world is ready for a movie about two queers. It mostly follows our friendship and our careers.”

I said, “of course, I’m in. When do we start?”

The movie wasn’t a big block buster, but it did well, and the studio made some money.

The next year my career once again took another turn, television became the next big thing. My first tv appearance was a guest spot on “Perry Mason”, I played a businessman that was accused of murder. Mason was my lawyer, so spoiler alert, I was found not guilty. I liked doing tv appearances, I was only required to spend about week away from Henry. I did do a Movie every couple of years, with all the new young actors coming up, I was now mostly playing supporting roles. Now that I was in my forties, I was playing the boss of the rouge detective, or the father of one of the main characters. As we got into the 1960s, I was doing more guest spots on tv series. I was on “Perry Mason” two more times, I also did two spots on “Gunsmoke”, as well as appearances on “Hogan’s Heros”, “Green Acres” and “The Beverly Hillbillies”. I was also asked to be a guest panelist on the game shows “What’s My Line” and “I’ve got a Secret”. They were filmed in New York, so I was able to stay home when I did those, and Henry was able to come watch the shows live.

As we made it to the end of the 60s and the 70s started, the gay community was seeing some progress. It was still a struggle, but it was working its way out of the closet, and many were proudly not hiding any more. Henry and I quietly supported these warriors from behind the scenes.

By 1974, I had slowed down both my movie and tv appearances, some by my own choice and some because there were younger, talented actors showing up every day. I turned 60 years-old that summer and so had Henry. He was starting to turn his shop over to his assistant and taking off a few days each week. As fall rolled around, I stopped into the shop about a week before Thanksgiving. Henry was giving a customer a haircut, I sat in a chair to wait for him to finish.

I heard him ask his customer, “so, what’s your next project Frank?”

Frank said, “we have our Christmas show next, I have most of the cast filled, but am still looking for the lead.”

Henry asked, “what play are you doing?”

Frank answered, “we are doing Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol”. I just haven’t found the right Scrooge.”

I laughed to myself as I heard Henry chuckle. Henry said, “well, I have a friend who might be perfect for that part.”

He asked, “really? Has he acted before?”

Henry laughed again, “yes, he’s done a bit of acting.”

Frank said, “well, ask him if he wants to play Scrooge.”

Henry spun the chair to face me and said, “why don’t you ask him yourself?”

I smiled at Frank as his eyes went wide and he stammered, “you’re Van Roman.”

I said, “yes sir, I would love to do your play, it would be fun.”

I couldn’t help but think about my career coming full circle. Not only was this the play that inspired me to become an actor, but it was also the play that gave me my start in the theatre. We began rehearsals the next week.

After rehearsal one day, the director called me into his office, and he unrolled the sample playbill out on his desk.

He said, “before we print these, I wanted you to give final approval, since you are our big star.”

I smiled as I looked over the poster, I said, “this looks really good, there is only one thing that I would like changed though. My 84-year-old father will be attending this play, he is getting very frail, and this may be the last time he gets to see me on the stage. If you don’t mind, for him, I would like my name listed as Ivan Romanov.”

 

The End.

This is the story of my first anon experience, before this I’d always been rather submissive but hadn’t thought of an anon meet before.

It was one night trolling through the normal profiles on Grindr, you know seeing what and who are about. I wasn’t majorly bothered this evening just relaxing in front of the TV with Grindr up on my phone.

I hear the familiar ‘tone’ from my phone with a notification saying

“Hey, you looking?” From a rather blank profile, only details were;

Distance: 1 Mile

Age: 32

Build: Average

Position: Top

Intrigued by this message my response was “I could be tempted”

I’m sure it took me longer to blink before I got the reply “Well I’ll tell you want I want, if your up for it, just ask for my address. Deal?”

My mind started to wonder and my cock gave a little twitch as I typed the words “sure, tell me what you’d want?”

After this message he went silent for a few minutes, was he shocked I responded, I had no idea.

Then the ‘tone’ again with a message reading.

“Right, well… you come to my address the front door will be open, a chair will be in the hallway. I want you to strip naked and bend over on the chair. I will come into the hallway and use your ass how I want. When I’ve finished with you I will walk into a room and shut the door. You dress and leave. No talking needed”

I was shocked, I’d never heard of anything like this before. I’d seen no pictures or sent any. My profile only had a picture of my torso on my profile and my only details were;

Distance

Age: 20

Build: Slim

Position: Vers

I had so many questions run through my head, I began to type my response. Like an innocent young gay guy would.

“Wow, never heard that before. What would you do with me like that? How would you fuck me? Safe? You genuine?” I sent my message and awaited my answer.

His response came through rapidly.

“That was not the deal, I told you what I want. No more chat”

Sat staring at the message. He was right. That was the deal. My cock was hard thinking about it. I didn’t know what to expect. What he looked like. What his cock was like. What he’d do to me. All this turning me on more and more. Then I thought the famous words ‘fuck it’.

I wrote my message “address?”, hovered over the send button for a moment then pressed down. I stood up as I did and headed to the bathroom to make sure I was ready for … Well we shall see.

I was ready, and nervous was an understatement. I checked my phone and there was the message “my address is…….” and a second message “tell me when outside so I get out the way”. Shoes on and I headed to my car.

10 minutes later……

I was parked outside a row of houses. I could see the house number from the car. I was right outside, a guy was waiting for me just inside that door. I sent my message “I’m outside”.

His reply “Good, I’m out the way. You know what I want”

I stepped out of my car and headed up the driveway, It was dark amd the house pitch black. The front door was down the side. No lights on, it was difficult to see. I thought ‘this is a con, right?’ I reached the front door. I hesitated as I gripped the handle and began the pull it down. The door opened and I began to step inside.

I closed the door behind me, hands and knees shaking, I was scared and excited.

In the hallway stood a chair right where he said it would be. I saw a bottle of lube on the floor. I was in the right place. I stripped down as instructed leaving a pile of my clothes near the chair but out of the way. I climbed onto the chair, bent my torso over the back and pushed my ass out. Then waited.

It felt like forever, just silence through the house. My naked slim build bent over the chair, my ass cheeks spread and my hairless hole exposed. I heard a door open and then close. Soft footsteps in the hallway. I kept facing forward. Scared and excited, my cock rock hard. I felt a hand run over my bare ass and up my back. I shuddered.

He was very quiet, I couldn’t even hear his breathing. I just felt hands on my ass, spreading my cheeks wider. I felt a tongue dive deep into my hole, I relaxed allowing him to get as deep as he wanted. I was in heaven, feeling this strangers tongue deep into my hole. I relaxed more and enjoyed this experience. Only thing I now knew about this guy was he was clean shaven, I felt no beard between my cheeks.

He pulled away and I felt a cool breeze on my now open hole. This was replaced by the thick hot bellend of his dick, I felt him edge his tip in stretching my hole around it, feeling the girth. He began to fuck my hole with just the tip of his dick, I could hear the wet sound of him head plunging in and out of my hole. This guy clearly hear me begin to moan, he pulled out once more then slammed the full length of his dick deep up my ass. I cried out after the shock, he loved this reaction. Gripping my ass hard in his hands he began pounding my hole deep and hard. His balls slapping against mine, no mercy is given to my ass. With a mixture of pain and pleasure deep inside my hole, I feel him tense. His dick spasming as he destroys my hole. He begin to moan loud, unleashing squirt after squirt of thick cum deep into my guts.

He pulls out suddenly, I hear a door open and close behind me. I’m still bent over the chair, hole gaping and cock rock hard. I climbed off the chair and got dressed. Opened the front door and headed to my car to drive home.

Driving home my head was swimming with what just happened, it was incredible. I had no idea who fucked me. My dick still so hard in my pants.

Once home I opened Grindr once again, I had a message “great ass, enjoy my load”.

How long could you last

When the master starts to suck

His skills at cum extracting

Precede his skills to mega fuck

He like to lick your balls first

Lapping round them very slow

Before he sucks them both at once

As your cock begins to grow

His nimble fingers grab your shaft

And wank it with some skill

Your cock is rigid as a pole

He holds it very still

Then licks from base to knob head

With a tongue extremely deft

Then slavers round your helmet

Till he’s no saliva left

His mouth envelops your wet dick

Sucking it like mad

You know now it’s the best blow job

That you have ever had

He feeds your prick

Right down his throat

Your balls press on his chin

His throat is hot and juicy

As the finger fucks begin

He prises your hole open

And finger fucks your bum

Your holding on as best you can

But really want to cum

His finger strokes your prostate

You quiver for his cock

You know he’s going to fuck you

As he’s solid as a rock

He pulls your dripping penis

From the confines of his throat

Then sucks the shaft and helmet

As he’s pulling on your scrote

His finger still inside you

You are finger fucked real fast

His mouth is sucking wildly now

You want it so to last

But cum can’t wait forever

And you start to spurt your spunk

The master’s cum lust has no bounds

He’ll swallow till cum drunk

He laps his tongue and takes your sperm

Like all cock suckers should

He’s ravenous for your sweet spunk

The taste is pretty good

His cheeks suck in completely

As he draws each precious sperm

Your cock is feeling sensitive

And still extremely firm

He drains your balls off

Till his sucking drives you nigh insane

You see his big cock throbbing

As the last sperm starts to drain

He sits you on his upright prick

You can’t escape the thrust

Your down on his shaft forcefully

You think your gut will bust

He rides you up and down his prick

Your heart thumps in you chest

You slam down on his hairy balls

The fucking is the best

He lays you down upon your back

His cock still bollock deep

And he fucks you like a master

Using you like something cheap

He’s gonna fill your burning arse

With loads of his warm cum

He’s shagging you with all his might

Now he’s opened up your bum

And all you do is take it

Like the dirty slut you are

You want his spunk so badly

Now he’s opened up your star

His cock is plunging in and out

Your squeals just make him faster

He’s pounding at your prostate now

He truly is a master

Then suddenly he thrusts so deep

Into your hot abyss

He starts to cum right up your bum

And moves in for a kiss

You feel his throbbing weapon

Spurt a lovely load of cream

You grab his arse cheeks tightly

The fuck was such a dream

The master pulls his prick out

It’s dripping strings of cum

Your arsehole gapes and oozes

The master fucking done!

I entered the parking lot of Padlock and took the last space in a dark corner by the trash bins. Fredo had sent a text telling me he wanted me to walk in wearing just the thong and my leather boots. In the darkness I took off all my clothes and put the boots on my bare feet. I knew from previous experience if Fredo said thong and boots, he meant only thong and boots, socks would be met with disapproval.

I walked up to the wall of man serving as the bouncer, named Doug. He was a nice guy I had slept with a few times in the past. Doug was built like a rugby player, thick and tall like a redwood. He had the most perfect dick and balls ever. I had often told him he should be a dildo model. I might have tried to make a relationship with him if he hadn’t been so slow, not slow as in I needed to explain jokes to him, but rather slow as in his mother handled his money. I still remember laying naked on his living room floor after an athletic sex encounter with him and realizing his mother had probably decorated his entire condo. We remained friends, but I didn’t fuck him anymore for fear of being dickmatized by him and accidentally starting a relationship.

Doug grinned at my state of undress. “I hear you’re the bell of the balls tonight.”

A funny pun? Maybe he was getting smarter? No, no, you’ve been there before. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I’ll make sure to come back and see you when you’re all smooth. Bet you’ll be sexy.”

Why was the word ‘sexy’ never sexy? Especially out of the wrong guy’s mouth. “Thanks,” I replied and headed into the bar.

The cat calls, wolf whistles, dog barks started almost instantaneously, as if I had wandered into a poorly lit zoo. As I walked through the front bar area, hands came out of nowhere to paw at my crotch, spank my ass, and pinch my nipples. I made it to the end of the bar without being impaled on a cock and with my own trying to escape its confines to say hello to passersby. Kind of like a tiny queen trying to wave to its subjects.

Between the front bar and the back room were strips of leather dangling from the ceiling like a naughty carwash to buff away any inhibitions. I was surprised to see the video Alvin had taken earlier in the day being played on all eight big screens at once. It’s hard to be incognito in a leather bar when you’re 5’11”, pale, and dressed only in a red lace thong, an item of clothing at odds with everything else in the room. Soon the menagerie of the back bar was making the same zoological sounds and Fredo came over to greet me.

I say, ‘greet me,’ but really it was to place a set of nipple clamps on me attached to a leash and to whisper into my ear. “So, you been a fucking whore today for some stranger? Tonight, you’re going to be a real whore and all the money you make is going to charity.” He growled in my ear like a bear. I thought he would think the idea of me arriving with a few loads of cum in me from some other men would appeal to him, and it may have, had I remembered to ask for permission. “If it works out, maybe next weekend you make me some money.”

Being led to the waxing area near the bar, the thought ran through my head: Can a whore serve two pimps?

Next to an easel was a chain hanging from the ceiling. A muscle daddy in leather pants and a harness was quick to place a set of sheepskin lined cuffs on me. “Hey, I’m Ken I’m a professional waxer so I’ll be making sure nothing gets ripped off that shouldn’t.”

“I’m Eric, a.k.a. Fresh Meat.”

Ken stroked by body, assessing my fuzziness. “Fuck yeah, with all this fur we should make our goal tonight.”

The fear of possibly losing a nipple was replaced by the thought of people attending a meeting to determine the goal of such an event. I was brought back to reality when Ken motioned to the bartender to lower the chain, then connected the cuffs to the chain before signaling to raise me. It took a moment to get use to the position of hanging by the cuffs. As I raised up Ken slipped my loosely tied boots off my feet and handed them to the bartender for safe keeping.

On a whiteboard was a menu of things people could pay for with a diagram of a body back and front as to how much each section cost. They were listed in order by which they would be happening with the numbers corresponding to my crotch being last. The last time I had done this it took a while for guys to start the festivities, but this time, perhaps egged on by my ass on display in 4K all over the place, men were quick to form a line and start paying for parts of my body to work on.

The first things to be waxed were my arms. A vanilla looking couple had bought each other three strips to use and a rough looking daddy in jeans and a leather vest bought nine to complete my arms. The couple let Ken be in charge of placing and removing their strips, but the daddy did his own. Because I was hoisted in the air, they had to climb a ladder to reach my forearms. The daddy made sure his crotch was rubbing against my face making the crowd cheer. He smelled like he’d been riding a motorcycle in the heat and his hairy belly rubbed against my forehead. For all his troubles, I nuzzled his groined with my nose and looked up to see him give me a big grin before ripping off one of his strips.

My legs were bought by the local leather group. Doing my calves was easy, but when it came time to wax my inner thighs, they hoisted my ankles onto the shoulders of two of their subs, spreading my legs towards the bar to more cheering. Ken spread the wax and then the men applied the fabrics strips, making sure to rub them on vigorously, sometimes grazing my balls and swollen cock.

Four different guys purchase the quadrants of my back, each one letting my bare ass rub against their chests. One of them slipped his tongue in my crack just as he pulled a strip to divert my attention from the pain. Another stuck his thumb in my crack and cupped my balls to stop me from spinning while he applied his strips.

My chest was the next part to go bare. The owner of the bar bought one side and Fredo bought the other. Ken took off the clamps and covered my nipples in petroleum jelly so the wax wouldn’t stick. He stood in front of me for quite a long time with my growing crotch in his face getting them, as he put it, “completely covered.”

The owner was an older chubby bear with thick, rough sausage-like fingers that felt like warm sandpaper against my back. His shirtless body revealed a forest of dense dark hair and bright pink nipples that looked as though they’d been pumped regularly. After Ken applied the wax, the owner climbed the ladder a couple of steps and place all six strips needed to cover half my chest at once then faced his patrons. “Should I do them two at a time?” Applause and whistles answered his query. He turned to me and grabbed the two outer strips and we both bit our lower lips just before he tore them from my body. Two more times he repeated this until I had one bare and very pink pectoral.

Fredo climbed the ladder after Ken had wiped way the jelly from my bald side and covered the other half of my chest. On his way up his hand slipped into my ass to check the plug was still in place. “Good boy.” He placed all his strips and then signaled the bartender to lower until my toes touched the floor. “How about we raise some more money? Twenty bucks to pull a strip.” In a flash $120 was placed in Fredo’s hand and handed off to Ken to add to the pot.

A tall Native American was the first to pull. Fredo put the man’s hand on my ass and said, “Hold here for better leverage.” The guy smiled at the absurdity his hand on my ass would garner any leverage, but also didn’t take his hand off my ass. After that, the other five guys use my ass for ‘leverage’ too.

The armpits were next to feel the sting of being waxed. One was bought by an African American bear in leather pants, vest, and harness. His name was Leroy and I had always had the biggest crush on him, but he never seemed to notice me until tonight. Instead of separate strips, Ken smeared the wax on my pit and then handed Leroy one large strip. His huge warm hand smoothed the strip on, and he slapped it a few times to make sure all the hair was adhered.

During one of his slaps, I teetered on my toes. “Here, let me give you a break.” He slid his forearm between my legs and picked me up in the crook of his elbow, taking away my need for balance and giving my shoulders a much-needed rest for a moment. He grabbed the loose end of the strip and yanked, causing me to buckle forward and moving my nipple within reach of his mouth. He opened his mouth and bit my nipple making me whimper out loud and eliciting a laugh from the crowd. Putting me down he whispered in my ear, “Can’t wait to use you later at the club.”

I had heard of ‘the club’ before. It was rumored the owner of the bar had purchased an old house across the street, gutted it and made it into a private club. Members paid a monthly fee to be part of it and their late-night antics were legendary. Despite my years of being a whore, I had never been.

The pastor of the gay church purchased the other armpit. He was a shorter man in his sixties with a dusting of red hair on his head. He looked entirely out of place, in his ironed jeans and crisp button-down shirt, but given the charity was the food bank the church ran, I guess he felt an obligation to participate. I knew him before his religious days when he was begging me to suck his cock in his car before going home to a wife he hated. I winked at him while he carefully placed the strip on my armpit in such a tender way, Ken was forced to come over and really rub it in before he pulled it off. He grimaced when he yanked the strip away. He then thanked everybody for the donations and left, blushing the whole time.

My stomach and happy trail were the last thing to be done before the main event of my privates. Although, I’m not sure if they could be called ‘private’ at this point as my cock stretched the front of the lace and drooled cum onto my newly smooth thighs and the grubby floor. A group of guys were celebrating a friend’s seventieth birthday and they had bought him, not only my stomach and happy trail, but also my cock and balls.

Ken pulled the thong down until the top of my bush popped out and started covering my belly in wax. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I wasn’t ready for the hot Persian daddy who approached me. He had thick salt and pepper hair and intense eyes looking down on me even though I was on my tip toes. His body was thick with hair across his gigantic chest and a trail running down into his jeans. Suddenly he smiled and I hoped he was part of the club and might be fucking me later. On top of looking like a god, he introduced himself, something nobody else had done, except for Ken. “I’m Eskandar.”

I smiled like a girl talking to a boy she likes in front of the lockers in high school. “I’m Eric.”

“We both have ‘e’ names.”

Fredo must have felt threatened by Eskandar, because soon he was trying to quicken things up. “Come on Ken, get that tummy done so this guy can get a real birthday present.”

Ken slathered on the wax and showed Eskandar how to apply the strips. The first one he seemed shy until I gave him some encouragement. “You don’t have to be gentle with me. In fact, you can be as rough as you want.”

He applied the rest of the strips with force. At one point slapping the area just above my bush and asking, “You like this?”

“I think the drooling dick down there is confirmation. Don’t you?”

He back handed my package and connected to my tight balls, making me flex and pull my feet off the floor for a second. “You like that.”

“Yes Sir.”

Eskandar followed Leroy’s pattern from my chest and ripped off two strips at a time until all that was left was the center one. The pain was making me squirm, so to steady me he grabbed my cock and balls, leaving my legs dangling in the air, and then he yanked the final strip off my stomach.

The crowd applauded as he let go and let me drop back to balancing on the tips of my toes.

Fredo saw how excited I was. He slid the thong down my legs, leaving me completely naked in a bar full of men. Ken handed Eskandar some electric clippers with a short guard on them. “Here, you need to trim him down before he can be waxed.”

I looked down to watch as he ran the clippers over my bush. In his giant hands my six inches looked tiny while he clipped the base of my cock and my tight sac. Leroy and Fredo each took one of my legs and bent them over their shoulders so he could trim the back of my balls and my taint, stopping just short of my crack. Soon I felt Ken’s, now familiar hands smearing the hot wax on me, but this time he put the strips on me himself and gave directions to Eskandar as to which way to pull them. For the first time in the entire process, I couldn’t help but scream out when he pulled the strips from the base of my cock and my balls. All the men laughed and mocked me for being a little bitch.

After he pulled the last strip off, the crowd gave Eskandar a round of applause and sang Happy Birthday to him as a bartender handed him a flaming shot. The chains started lowering, Fredo released the cuffs, and took them off. He then walked me over to the stocks by the wall and pinned my head and wrists, leaving me bent over in front of the whole bar. The whistles again started.

Ken announced my ass was being waxed by an anonymous donor, but everyone seemed to know that it was the much-rumored club. He brought over two barstools and helped place a knee on each one, putting me in a squatting position. It was then that, even in the dimly lit room, the two-inch-wide plug was readily evident to everyone. More hooting and hollering commenced behind me, and I felt a few men come up and spank me, connecting with the plug and making me cringe.

“That plug is gonna have to come out before I can wax him,” Ken said.

“Yeah, no prob,” Fredo answered.

In a flash, Fredo reached over and yanked the plug, releasing some of the cum Alvin and Teddy had shot in me earlier. More cheers came from behind me. A man in the crowd commented, “Look, he he’s trying like hell to make it wink but he can’t!” More laughter came.

I heard a man ask, “You want my pup to clean that up?”

“Sure,” Fredo replied.

A moment of hot breath and then a big wet tongue entered my gaping hole. A big man with a pink body and a carpet of grey hair came around to the front of the stocks holding a leash in one hand, “My pup’ll get you nice and clean. Don’t you worry.”

While it was nice of the man to tell me, a strange tongue was the least of my worries. I wondered how much pain the wax would be on my bruised ass.

Soon, Ken’s hands returned along with a towel and a wipe smelling of antiseptic. First one cheek was covered, and a volunteer was called on to rip it off and then the process was repeated on the other side. Then it came time to wax my crack. Ken’s face was so close, I could feel his breath in wonderful places. He applied the wax and then the strips, but this time he did the pulling himself. Everyone laughed at the pain being so intense my ass clenched closed for a moment before falling back open to its previous gape.

More cheers came as I was let out of the stocks and numerous men approached me to hug me and rub against me. Fredo pulled the plug from his pocket and held it up in the air. “Hundred bucks for charity and you can replace the whore’s plug.”

I had never seen a hundred-dollar bill appear so fast. Fredo gave the plug to a tall skinny man with sunken cheeks and acne scars. Dressed in black in the dark bar, his sinister face seemed to float towards me. “Get up on that bar stool and face me.” I did as he ordered. He grabbed my legs, tipping the barstool on two legs, my back now in contact with the vinyl seat, and my head rested on the padded edge of the bar. The evil looking man placed my calves on his shoulders and placed the plug between my ass and the front of his pants. He grabbed both my nipples and twisted as he thrusted the plug deep into me, making me scream out so loud there was a lull in the bar chatter. He leaned over my shuddering body, bending my knees into my chest. “You’re gonna make a lot of money tonight.” He lifted be back up onto the stool and disappeared into the crowd.

Fredo handed me the thong. “Put your clothes on whore! Don’t you know you can’t be naked in public.” A chuckle sprang from the crowd.

A hand patted my ass as I bent over to get redressed. The bartender brought over my boots, and I had never been so grateful to have something between my feet and a sticky bar floor.

I stood next to Fredo in silence. He only liked to hear from me if I was responding to him. He and another man were discussing engine parts for a vintage car they both possessed a version of while I stared at the video screens loop the video Alvin took earlier, the video of the first guy to be waxed before me, and my waxing session. I was zoned and hadn’t notice the sinister skinny man approach Fredo and start talking to him. Fredo slapped my ass, “Hey, go with Mike and make more money for the food bank.”

“What?” I asked.

Fredo grabbed my nipple and twisted as he drew me closer. “What’s the fucking answer bitch?”

“Yes Sir.”

He let go of my nipple and backhanded my package making me bend over and taking my breath away. “Good boy. I’ll see you later this evening.”

I followed Mike out of the club into the cold night air and over to old van with no windows. He opened the sliding rear door, revealing a fuck bench bolted to the floor. The rest of the van was carpeted in black low-pile carpet and a solid metal panel with a small sliding door separated the front seats from the back. “Get in. You can sit on the floor until we get where were going. I’ll let you know when you need to get into position.

I climbed in the van as Mike said, “I’ll keep those boots up front, you won’t be needing them.”

He slid the door closed and left me in the darkness. The van smelled like every old car from the eighties, stale cigarettes, air fresheners shaped like trees, and that weird mix of exhaust and hard plastics still off gassing. When the engine started it became clear the exhaust system needed to be replaced and the timing was off. I heard the transmission find a gear with a massive clunk and we were moving.

Instead of trying to keep myself balanced with the plug in my ass, I opted to lay down on the stiff carpet. Turn by turn, I tried to keep up as to where I thought we might be and then suddenly we were clearly on an onramp and the motor worked hard to get up to freeway speed. Once on the freeway, there was no way of knowing where we were. I did feel a big curve, which must have been an interchange, but I couldn’t make out which one. Eventually the sound of the engine and the sway of the van in desperate need of an updated suspension lulled me to sleep.

I woke to slower speeds and the distinct tilting of the vehicle entering a driveway. All around I could hear diesel engines idling. From the front Mike muffled voice chatted with another voice over a speaker. The small sliding door opened and a bright green LED sign showing the price of fuel blinded me for a moment. “Get in position. Got a few guys here for you and then we’ll go to the truck stop across the freeway.”

I climbed onto the bench resting my torso on the top and my shins and forearms on the lower pads. The cool vinyl shocked me and made my nipples hard. Suddenly, I was bathed in red light emanating from the areas where the walls meet the floor and roof. I heard someone talking to Mike at the driver’s window, then footsteps on the gravel outside, and the door slid open and shut.

It took a minute for our eyes to adjust form the blinding fluorescent bulbs trying their hardest to defeat the night. His dirty scuffed engineer boots were the first to thing to come into focus. I felt his warm rough hand against my smooth back and a cool rivet on his jeans against the crown of my head. The warm rough hand slid down and over my ass while the snaps from his shirt got trapped between his belly and my back. He smelled like cigarettes, diesel, and the familiar scent of Irish Spring. A gruff moan that could have easily turned into a smoker’s cough escaped him as he surveyed my body.

“I’m George,” he said in such a low and gravelly tone, I swear it vibrated parts of my insides.

“I’m Eric.”

“Well Eric, how about you get on your back?”

Awkwardly, I turned myself over. My face now aligned with George’s crotch and I noticed he’d missed one of the buttons on his fly in his excitement to see me. His long button-down shirt overhanging off his belly put my head back into darkness while his hands slid over my body. “Fuck yeah, look at you in your little panties. I love a sissy.”

He reached under his stomach, undid his belt, pulled apart his fly creating that satisfying sound only a button fly can make, and let his pants drop to the floor around his ankles.

“Get daddy hard.”

I leaned my head back over the end of the bench and found the head of his cock drooling precum. With my tongue, I guided it in and in mere seconds his beer can thick five inches was stretching my mouth open. More gravelly tones escaped him as hairy balls pressed into my nose, filling me with the strong smell of soap and an undertone of piss. He stood up and pulled the snaps of his shirt apart then guided my hands up to his erect nipples. For a few minutes we stayed that way, with me twisting his nipples while he played with mine and slowly fucked my face.

“Fuck, you suck a mean cock. Time to try out your other hole.”

He pulled his pants up around his thighs, shuffled over to the end of the bench, and let them drop again as he placed my ankles on his shoulders. In this position I could finally see his face and body. George was once a handsome man I’m sure, but years of rough living and driving had taken their toll. Deep lines ran over good bones, his thick grey stubble stood out in the dim light, more grey hair covered his big chest and ran down his belly. A dirty hat from a fuel company contained greasy shoulder-length strands.

A rough hand slid down my leg and into my ass where George found the plug firmly in place in my hole behind the thong’s strap. He pulled lightly on it, but after so long in me, my ass had clenched around it. “Here, let’s take your panties off so I can get this out.”

After I was completely naked, George grabbed the plug and pulled it straight out in one motion.  The sensation made me emit a high-pitched girly moan. For a moment he looked around for a place to store it and settled on shirt pocket. His thick, rough finger entering me made me repeat the sound. “Nice, you’re all ready to go.” He slid the finger out and pressed it on my lips until I opened to clean it off. “Good boy.”

He reached down, positioned his thick cock against my hole, and spread my legs apart to make way for his stomach as he entered me. A look of ecstasy washed over his face as he began a slow rhythm. More low grumbles came out of his barrel chest and every now and again he’d take my underwear and sniff it like poppers. His long wiry pubes brushed against my smooth skin with every stroke and the scent of his sweat overtook the soap and the cigarettes. He never got to a jackhammer pace, just slow and steady until his mouth opened slightly and a last low groan vibrated the air and pulses of cum splashed within me.

George paused for a moment of bliss as his fat cock softened and slipped out of my hole. He pulled up his pants and rebuttoned his shirt. “You got a great ass.” Getting to the upper snaps of his shirt the plug in his pocket pressed into him. “Oh, almost forgot.” He took the plug and replaced it in my hole, smiling at my face twisting in pain.

Making his way to the door he pinched my nipple playfully. “Thanks a lot kid, totally worth forty bucks to a good cause. Have to tell Mike to bring you out again.”

He slid the door open, and I listened as the sound of gravel underfoot faded away. Mike slid the little door open, “Get that thong on and get back into position.”

As I turned myself over to my stomach, the sound of muffled voices came from the front of the van and not long after the sliding door opened and closed, but this time two people entered.

Two masculine southern voices spoke as I stared towards the floor, occasionally catching a glimpse of a croc sandal on a hairy foot.

“Shit, look at this thong they got on him.”

A finger explored my ass and then another man spoke, “Damn, look how wide that plug is. Fucker’s gonna be loose like my wife after three kids. Dunno if it’s really worth forty bucks.”

The first guy replied, “Get up there and let him suck your dick. You’re always complaining Sheila don’t give you blow jobs anymore.”

A pair of dirty beat-up sneakers appeared on the floor beneath my face followed by a pair of shiny nylon basketball shorts. A hand grabbed my hair and I pushed myself up to see a chubby man’s small dick being pushed at my mouth. The sickening smell of fruity body wash and sweat combined with the man’s clammy cold belly against my face almost made me hurl. I so wanted to put on my sassy hat and tell this fucker exactly why Sheila wasn’t sucking his dick anymore, but was I bought and paid for to be used, so I stayed as opinionated as a blowup doll. His small dick darted in and out of my mouth while his body stayed firmly pressed against my face.

Behind me, the plug was yanked out of my ass and placed in the small of my back. The thong was stretched to one side and another less than average experience started to unfold.

“How’s that end? This one’s all soft and juicy like a fleshlight.”

“Fuck, his mouth feels good on my cock.”

To keep myself in the mood I thought about George’s thick cock stretching my hole wider than the plug and how the thick vein on the underside of his cock pressed especially hard in the lower half of my hole. I thought so intently on it, a moan left my mouth.

The guy at my ass heard this moan. “Fuck, little bitch likes our country cocks in him.”

It was probably only four more minutes until I had a thimble full of cum in my mouth and slightly more in my ass. They were quick to dress and leave at least.

Mike slid the window open, “Get that plug back in you.”

It was then I realized there must be a camera somewhere videoing everything. I grabbed the plug and stuffed it back in my hole, reposition the wet strap of the thong over it. My hair was still damp with the fat man’s sweat.

Muffled voices rang out from the front again and shortly afterward the door opened and closed. Two men and the overwhelming scent of cocoa butter entered the tiny space. In my peripheral were two sets of very dark feet with very white bottoms wearing flip flops. They spoke in a language I didn’t understand, but the accent was definitely from somewhere in Africa. They laughed and one of them slapped my ass. His hand was huge and the stinging reach from the outside edge of my left cheek, all the way to the middle of my right.

A warm dark hand came under my chin as a pair of silver shorts dropped to the ground. An enormous curved black cock bounced up and down as if it were asking to be let in and I happily obliged its request. As the giant organ slid further and further into my mouth and then throat, the thong was taken off me and the man could see the plug. A back and forth in their native tongue resulted in laughter before the plug was finally removed. More laughter at my gaping hole and a flash from a phone camera.

“Squeeze your hole closed,” a thick accent demanded as a light for what was probably a video recording was turned on. I tried, but after the plug and so many dicks, it wasn’t happening. More laughing and comments in their language as another huge cock entered me. The first couple inches went in easily, but then the dick swelled to a size that stretched out my gaping hole like I was still a virgin. That exchanged words again and laughed again. He started with a normal even rhythm going deep within me, but only coming out a few inches on each stroke. They used me in silence for a good ten minutes, only letting out an occasional accented moan. I’ve always thought it was funny different languages and cultures have different sex noises.

A few words were exchanged, and they switched. I generally don’t have a gag reflex, but this thick fucker made me gag and spit as his cock tried reaching my stomach. They spoke and laughed again, probably about how much thicker the one man’s cock was and how I wasn’t having such an easy time. They fell silent again until the one in my ass suddenly picked up his pace and soon, he violently grabbed my ass cheeks and tensed up. I didn’t know I could feel cum that far up in me. It felt so good. He stroked a few more times in me, each time letting out a little spurt of remaining cum. I felt his dick leave my body and then a slimy hand wiped cum all over my back. If I hadn’t had my mouth full, I would have offered to clean it for him instead of wasting it.

The man in my mouth move back to my ass. This time he fucked me with a furious rhythm, and I had to hang on while he jackhammered his cock into me. Soon he grabbed my hips, slammed into me, and jizzed.

While the first man pulled his shorts on the second one came around to my mouth. They spoke again and then he said, “Clean off.” I was happy to comply. I sucked all the gooey goodness off his enormous cock then he pulled up his shorts and they both left. I could hear them chattering and laughing as they walked away.

“Put your thong back on, but leave the plug out,” Mike ordered from the front.

It wasn’t easy to find a red thong in a place lit in red. On my hands and knees, I felt around until I finally found it, put myself back together, and got back into position. Just as I got comfortable on the bench, the van started, and we were moving. I could feel van exit the parking lot, go over the overpass, and then enter another parking lot. I knew this must be the two truck stops on the south end of town. The first one was a big corporate behemoth of a place, but the second one was a little family-owned establishment run by the Native Americans. It closed at nine, so truckers usually parked there for free, hoping not to get robbed or worse in the dim lighting.

The van stopped and Mike came around and opened the door with my boots in hand. “Put these on.” I put them on but stayed frozen in the van. “Come on, guys are waiting, and I got to get you back by two.” Slowly I got out of the van and stood in the cold night air with my nipples erect and cum sliding down my inner thighs. “Walk to the end of that trailer.”

I didn’t reply, I just started walking and shivering. The closer I got to the back of the trailer, the darker it got until all I was lit by were the amber lights dotted along the side of a refrigerated trailer. I got to the back of the trailer and discovered a little dry wash area with a picnic table, an ash tray, a trash barrel, and a no loitering sign reflecting the lights from the trailer. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a few floating red dots in the night marking the end of lit cigarettes and then I could start to make out men standing around. A voice from behind me scared me, “You Mike’s?”

I had to think for a moment, but at the moment, technically I was Mike’s. And besides that, how many other whores are out here behind a bunch of parked trucks in a red lace thong mother fucker? “Yeah.” My eyes finally got used to the dark surroundings and I counted ten men.

“Nice,” a different voice said, “this one don’t look all tweeked out like that last one.”

“Must be why it’s twenty instead of ten,” said a man with a Middle Eastern accent.

A man by the picnic table patted the tabletop, “Get on up, we all got places to be.”

I felt a tug on the back of my thong, “This one has pretty panties too.” He grabbed my package, that had mostly retreated from the night air. “Fuck, this one got a tiny little dick too, almost like fucking a woman.”

“Yeah, but without all the complaining.” The men laughed as the sound of a zipper opening caught my attention.

Warm spit filled my ass followed by a nice cock with a thick head. He started with the thong pulled to the side, but after a while he grew tired of it and cut it off with a pocketknife and threw it into the trash, “That’s just getting in the way.”

 One after the other they slipped into me, used me to jackoff, and went back to their trucks. Sometimes I’d hear them start up and leave, sometimes, they were just crawling into the sleeper to get some shut eye. In the end it was just me and the Indian guy left in the night air. His accent was strong, and he smelled exotic from the others.

He didn’t just slide into and pound me, instead he fingered me, adding a finger ever few strokes until his hand was inside me. “How many men have you had tonight?”

“Fifteen or twenty.”

He laughed. “You such a whore you don’t even know.” His other hand jacked his dark uncut cock as he pushed his arm further into me.

“Such a fucking whore,” he said into my gaping hole as he wiped his hand off on my leg. He stood behind me and put his cock in me. “Look at that, my cock can move in every direction in your stretched out hole. Such a whore.”

He fucked me for a little on my hands and knees and then switched me onto my back, all the time telling me what a whore I was. As he got closer, he asked, “Who’s the biggest whore?”

“I am.”

“Beg for my load whore.”

“Please sir, fill me with your cum. Give me your load.”

“Do you ever get enough cock?”

“No sir.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

“And what are whores good for?”

“Cum dumpsters.”

“That’s right you fucking whore.” Out of all the men, his load was the only one I felt injected into me. His semen was so hot, it burned my raw insides. He left his cock in me to get soft. “Look at yourself out here, naked, and taking strangers cum. You should be ashamed you whore.” His dick slipped out of me, and he put it in his pants still wet with the cum of strangers. “Good night whore.” He walked away and faded into the darkness while I wondered: Am I a whore if it’s for charity?

I got off the table and stumbled on weak legs back to where Mike had dropped me off. I tried the sliding door, but it was locked so I looked through the window to find him fast asleep behind the wheel. I tapped on the window to wake him.

He came out and opened the door for me. “Where’s your underwear?”

“One of the guys cut it off me.”

Mike shrugged and closed the door. I laid on my stomach on the floor of the van, trying to keep all the loads inside me as Mike got on the freeway. I reached back and felt my hole. It was soft, wet, and open. Despite all the loads I had taken, I was ready for more.

The little sliding door opened, and Mike yelled above the noise of the van, “Find that plug and get it back in you. Fredo and the boys want you ready to use.”

It took a while to find a black plug in the di red light and weird shadows being cast about. I smiled and winced as I pushed it into me, knowing tonight I’d finally get to go to the club I’d heard so much about.

Saturday, 18 March 2023

I had a very happy St. Patrick’s Day. Yesterday morning I was running around the edges of the university’s campus in just track shorts and an athletic tee. It was early, like 7:00am or shortly after. I had a good sweat going. Wisps of steam rose from my bare shoulders as I changed gears to run down a wooded path. It was just a few degrees above zero, but guys like me are seldom cold. I wanted an early start on my spring shred.

For the coldest months of this past winter I was holed up with one of the university’s varsity rugby stars –a big, strong, furry guy. Believe it or not his name was actually Chad. It was like boning with a giant, muscular teddy bear. Dude had two inches of height on me and at least thirty pounds of beef. Of course there was one measurement where I had him beat hands-down. But with a good, thick eight inches he could still give it as good as he got. Nothing like a vers top who knows what he’s doing. He was always down to fuck. But the two of us added up to well over four hundred pounds of solid, muscular dude. We literally broke his bed one night. I felt kinda bad about that and helped him buy a new one. Seemed only fair. He had a great place, too, including a lifting cage in the basement with enough weight for even the likes of us. Plus he was even a great cook! He could make this seafood pasta dish that made me want to fuck him with every bite. I barely left his place for the winter. There were a couple snow storms when he and I didn’t even get dressed for two or three days at a stretch. We just closed the curtains, turned the heat up, and went from eating to fucking to showering to sleeping over and over again. It was so nice. But I am very much a creature of the warm months. I was ready for a change. Back to my morning St. Paddy’s Day run.

I tore through the naked tress and my running shoes sank into the soft earth. The fresh air of spring coursed through my lungs and I was feeling pretty frisky. My hunky rugby star had been a great winter companion, but I was ready to start spreading my seed again like a good alpha should.

Hey. I’m Kevin Larsen. And I’m a twenty-year-old alpha. More about that later. For now, let me give you an idea of what you’re looking at. I’m six-foot-two and north of 200 pounds of rock solid muscle, much of it in my arms, chest, and back. I’m wide as fuck with a narrow waist and two long, toned columns of muscle for legs. My hair is loose, ash brown curls that cover my forehead bounce along the nape of my neck. I’ve got bright, honey brown eyes that turn down at the corners a bit. I can rock the brooding bad boy look pretty hard. Add in a square jaw, slightly hollow cheeks, and plump, cupid’s bow lips. Yeah, even as alphas go, I’m fuckin’ sex on legs. I’m in my second year at Western University studying Business and Marketing. Anyways, let’s finish that run, shall we?

Running, or any sort of intense physical activity, is a whole different experience if you’re an alpha. Not only do you feel your body more intensely that any beta ever could –the flexing and stretching of your muscles, the pumping of your blood, the air as it moves across your skin. You can also feel your energy whirl around you and through you, into the earth, into the air, and back again. Whether its running, lifting, or anything else that gets you moving it’s an entirely different kind of rush from what a normal athlete would feel. Of course the most intense physical activity is sex. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Running through the tress and the cool mists rising from the ground, I felt like an animal his natural habitat, like a king of the forest.

The sun was peaking above the tops of houses as I dashed out of the trees. Following the winding trail through a grassy field, I headed back for the campus buildings. I wanted to get a drink of water at the fountain outside the school’s athletic centre then go inside and pump some iron while my heart rate was still up. I got to the fountain, stopped and stretched for a bit, then pulled my shirt off and used it to wipe my face and torso down. Not that the shirt wasn’t already drenched with sweat, just slightly less drenched than me. In the beach weather months I keep my chest hair trimmed, but over the winter I’d allowed a coat of fur to grow across my pecs. It was plastered to the broad, thick muscles with perspiration, my nipples erect from the cold. A narrow trail of fur also crawled down the centre of my abs down into the waistband of my shorts.

I tucked my shirt into the waist of my shorts, leaned over, and took a long drink. I felt heat escape my body and rise off the bare skin of my broad back and shoulders. Once my thirst was quenched, I took in a deep breath through my nose. That’s when I smelled it: the strong, sweet scent of a young, virgin beta.

I discretely sniffed the air a couple times, looked to my right and saw exactly what I expected to see. On a bench under a bare birch tree, with his knees brought up to his chest, sat the cutest, twinkiest of guys, staring at me over the top of a book. His jaw was slack, his eyes wide. He was no doubt attempting to scan as accurate a picture as he could into his spank bank for future reference. I inhaled deeply and drank in more of his scent.

You’re probably wondering what a young, virgin beta smells like. Fair. I’ve tried to describe it for myself before. It’s kind of like fresh honey, cloves, and… I don’t know, a few other things. All I know is it always goes straight to my crotch. Huffing in this guy’s scent made my balls churn. My dick plumped a bit, and suddenly I was in the mood for a different kind of workout.

I smiled and sauntered over to him, never breaking eye contact. I shifted my weight from side to side as I walked, moving like he and I were already fucking.

“Hey,” I said to him, giving him the slightest of nods as I leaned against that birch tree next to him. “Kinda early to be cramming, isn’t it?”

With my left arm, I reached behind and casually massaged the back of my neck while leaning my elbow against the tree. In other words, casually showing off my meaty bicep to this guy while ensuring that my own scent came at him at full intensity. My other hand was at my hip, the thumb under the waistband, pulling down on my shorts ever so slightly, letting him see that adonis line that pointed straight to my crotch. Yup, I knew exactly what I was doing. Not my first rodeo.

“Uh…” he said in a daze, his eyes swimming all over me, not knowing where to look.

I continued to drink in his scent. I have a great nose, even by alpha standards. I could tell he was turned on already. Hell, I could tell he was throwing wood, even with his legs drawn up to his chest like they were. I could’ve leaned over and whispered “Follow me” into his ear right then and he would’ve done it. But I decided to do the civilized thing and keep the conversation going, at least for a little while longer.

“The book,” I said, helping him out a bit. “It’s a little early to be cramming for a class, isn’t it?”

“Uh… yeah, I guess,” he said, looking up at me. “I, uh… don’t have class until ten, but… Uh… It’s a good book.”

“Right on,” I said, stretching my arms above my head and arching my back. In other words, I stuck my crotch out at him, just in case he couldn’t already see I was hung like a pony.

“I like to move first thing in the morning,” I continued. “Helps me to focus for the rest of the day.”

“Uh… huh…” he squeaked, staring at the silky outline of that huge tube of flesh straining the sewn-in mesh underwear of my shorts.

“I’m Kev,” I said, bringing my arms down and holding out a hand toward him.

“I’m Stewart –uh, Stewey,” he said, grabbing my outstretched hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you,” I purred.

Shaking his hand I fully realized just how twinky this twink really was. Inside my big, calloused paw his hand was small, delicate, almost feminine. It was a challenge sizing him up with him sitting the way he was. I reckoned he must’ve been about five feet tall, just north of a hundred pounds. Dude was literally half my size! But he was cute as fuck. Spiked blond hair, bright blue eyes, clear, smooth, dimpled cheeks. And a really pretty looking mouth.

“Yeah, uh… Nice to meet you, too,” he said, swallowing heavy.

“Say,” I said, stretching my shoulders, “I was gonna take a walk in the arboretum to cool down a bit before hitting the showers. You wanna join me?”

“Sure,” he said immediately. “I mean, uh… yeah, that’d be cool.”

Stewey stowed his book and jumped to his feet. He pulled his shoulders back, stuck his chest out and smiled as he looked up at me. Nice. He was dressed in a thick, grey hoodie and green cargo pants. He immediately pulled the hem of his sweatshirt down over his crotch, but not before I could confirm that, yup, he was already throwing wood at me. I smiled broadly and slapped him on the back as he fell in beside me. The two of us sauntered off side by side, walking back where I just came from. We must’ve looked like big bro and little bro in search of some mischief. My nuts started getting heavy thinking ahead to what was gonna happen. I walked a little bowlegged as I felt the weight of them and my chubbing dick tug at my groin. This was gonna be sweet!

Stewey and I shot the shit about classes, weekend plans, and the like as I led us back onto the trail. Then I led us off the trail and inside a heavy copse of cedars where I’d been several times before for some one-on-one time or to just rub one out.

“Ah…” I sighed. “Finally some privacy.”

I stopped us, turned to face him and, with a smirk, slung the waistband of my running shorts behind my heavy ballsack. Feeling the freedom of the open air my junk started inflating rapidly.

“Holy shit!” twinky Stewey exclaimed when he finally saw me in all my glory.

My cock swung skyward, reaching a full, throbbing nine-and-a-half inches. I’ve learned this is another mark of an alpha. The cocks of beta males, the rare times that they approach an alpha’s size, don’t stick straight up and sometimes don’t even get fully hard. A big beta cock will, at best, point out ninety degrees from the dude’s body. But an alpha male’s fuckpole always gets super hard, standing tall and proud like a mighty redwood. Right there in front of Stewey mine stood right up against the brickwork of my abs, tapping a steady rhythm against them. Pencil-thick veins snaked up and down it, pulsing with the beat of my heart. It was about as thick as Stewey’s wrist. By now my balls had swollen to the size of a couple juicy tangerines in anticipation of the action ahead, packing themselves with thick, potent alpha seed. I felt the weight of my swollen junk tugging on the muscles of my groin. My prostate pulsed and a big, bead of clear precum formed on the tip of my cock, half of it still shrouded in my foreskin.

I smiled at Stewey and said, “Dive in dude. Take what you want.”

I swivelled my hips and swung my cock for emphasis, bringing my hands behind my head to show off my arms and expose my deep, furry pits. Stewey immediately dropped his knees to the damp grass and crawled toward me. Reaching up with reverence and disbelief, he tentatively reached out to squeeze my left nut with one hand and my cock with the other.

“You’re so… big…” he said quietly.

My industrial-sized toolbox now took up his entire field of vision. Breathing in his scent now I could smell just a tinge of fear mixed in with that sweet, virgin musk.

“Don’t worry, little dude,” I said. “I won’t hurt you.”

I brought one hand down and cupped his face, turning his sweet, blue eyes up to meet mine.

“In fact, I’m gonna make you feel soooooo good. Better than you’ve ever felt. But you gotta get me good and wet first. Think you can do that, bro?”

He slowly nodded, parted those pretty lips, and sucked the drooling head of my cock into this mouth. I growled, low and satisfied, slowly running my fingers through his golden hair as he went to work.

Sex as an alpha is amazing. I’ll describe it as best I can. Imagine feeling your balls swell right along with your cock. Imagine your cock harder than you’ve ever been and staying that way for as long as you want. Imagine the skin being super sensitive to even the slightest touch, yet still being able to fully control whenever you orgasmed. Imagine being able to feel a slow river of thick, viscous precum pump itself all the way from your balls out the tip of your cock. Then imagine that your precum isn’t just precum. Alpha lube is magic. It makes everything it touches feel tingly, relaxed, and warm –primed for fucking, in other words. On top of all that imagine being able to feel your sexual energy rise up your body like sun kissed summer wind. Yeah, sex as an alpha is amazing.

And my magical alpha lube was having the predicted effect on Stewey. I slowly shoved more and more of my cock down his loosening throat with each micro thrust. His eyes bulged wide in disbelief. After a few minutes his confidence crossed a threshold. He grabbed my hairy, muscular thighs and deep-throated me, burying his nose in my sweaty pubes.

“Awe, yeah!” I cried. “Way to go, bro!”

I thrust my hips into his face, flinging my swollen balls up into his chin. This whole time he looked up at me like he was staring into the face of god. I decided to take things up a notch and reward him for being such a good cocksucker. I locked eyes with him and started reaching inside of him in that way that only an alpha can. I focused on my breath, channelled as much energy as I could through my gaze, and started masturbating his fucking mind until–

“Unghhhh…” he moaned around my cock, squinting his eyes, his body jerking. Then the smell erupted from his crotch and I breathed it in like candy. Yup. I made him cream his pants. Without even touching his dick. Fuck, I love being an alpha!

The little dude came off my cock with a gasp and collapsed on the ground, cupping his spasming balls through his cargo pants and looking up at me in sheer amazement as he caught his breath.

I smirked and stripped out of my shorts, tossing them aside and standing before him buck naked in nothing by my runners as I stroked my huge, leaky cock above him.

“You may as well get naked, too, bro,” I said to him. “Things only get messier from here.”

He obeyed. In a minute he was as naked as me. Small as he was, dude was actually pretty toned and ripped under those bulky clothes. His cock was small compared to mine, most guys are, but he was actually a respectable size for a guy just above five feet tall. I could see letting him mount me to see if he had what it took. And he was still hard as a nail. I looked him up and down and realized that, if I wanted this encounter to go where I wanted it to, this little guy was gonna have to be good and warmed up first.

I folded up his thick, hooded sweatshirt, laid it down on a big log and sat down on top of it.

“Jump on, bro!” I said with a smile, slapping my thighs.

He immediately straddled my waist and slid himself forward, mashing our cocks together and stroking them in his fists. I was so much bigger than him. The size comparison was a turn-on. We kissed and made out as he stroked us. In seconds my cock pumped out so much lube that our dicks were swimming in it. I squirted some more onto my hand and reached beneath him.

“Damn!” he cried. “How the fuck do you make so much… ungh… Oh fuck!”

I massaged my home brewed lube into his pussy and slipped a finger inside him. He sighed and collapsed into my chest, still stroking our cocks together as I finger fucked him.

“That feel good, baby?” I said, low and sexy as I clutched him to my chest.

“Uh huh…” he moaned as I worked him.

“You gotta get nice ‘n’ loose for me now. Think you can do that?”

“Um hum…” he purred.

It was like playing with a toy. I’d tap his prostate with one of my long fingers to make him gasp and thrust with his hips against my cock. I’d kiss him on the neck and shoulders to make him sigh and moan. I’d flex my cock in his grip to make his eyes go wide in amazement. Then I added more of my fuck juice and shoved two fingers inside of him. A constant breathy chorus of moans and groans flowed out of him. After some more stroking he went electric, again, groaning and splooging all over my cock and lower abs. I breathed in deep. That sweet virgin beta musk went right to my balls. But that musk of his wouldn’t be there for much longer.

“Hang on tight, bro,” I said, just before grabbing his ass firmly with my hands and standing up, his arms wrapped around my neck, his legs wrapped around my waist.

“Holy fuck!” he gasped in amazement.

I held him in the air and felt around his pussy with the tip of my cock until…

“Ungh!”

He gasped as my big throbbing head knocked at his entrance. I squirted out some more of my magical alpha lube then lowered him while thrusting up with my hips. He moaned, squinting his eyes and biting his lip but I was able to make entry. I felt the ring of his ass snap tight around my cock. Touchdown! His eyes fluttered open and his mouth made a perfect O as I slowly lowered him, quarter-inch by quarter-inch, down on my cock. Sinking my prick into this hot, eager twink felt soooooo good. I had to grit my teeth to take things as slow as I did. I wanted to break in this amazing pussy without breaking in entirely. My biceps bulged like veiny cannon balls with the effort as I slowly controlled his descent, a fact that he did not miss. He clawed at my big arms with his tiny hands as I lowered him, feeling my warm steel as much as he could while more of my warm steel penetrated him from below.

I continued to pump alpha lube into this hot-as-fuck twink and after five or so torturous minutes we were finally fully bonded. I buried myself to the hilt inside him, smiled, looked into his eyes, and flexed my cock for emphasis, eliciting an erotic gasp from him. Then I gave a few micro thrusts and…

“Ungh! Ummmmm…”

I smothered his moans with my mout as Stewey went electric a third time. He collapsed onto me as his cock spasmed more twink spunk onto my furry lower abs. His scent had begun to change at that point. That strong, sweet virgin musk began to resemble a diminished version of my own scent. Yup, I was owning this twink, claiming him as my beta to any alpha who took a whiff. And I hadn’t even fully bred him yet.

“Okay,” I thought, “That’s three orgasms for you, dude. Now it’s time for big bro to bust a nut.”

I took the fucking up a notch, thrusting harder, bouncing him up and down on my muscular fuckstick like he weighed nothing. My seed-heavy balls flung themselves up into his ass with every thrust. His moaning became less coherent. At this point I was literally fucking him to the edge of consciousness.

I felt thick, heavy alpha seed rise from my balls and pack itself into my cock. I was gonna go for maximum pressure before unloading inside this prime beta. I wanted to really show him what a stud he’d landed for himself. So I waited for several more thrusts. Then several more. The pressure in my cock built and built. My cock got harder and harder, bigger and bigger. My balls were packed so full I would almost feel them stretching. And then…

“Grrrrrrrr!” I growled, low like a wolf, thrust my cock as deep inside of him as I could, and released my seed.

My cock pumped so hard, right up against his prostate, that I think he orgasmed again as I unloaded into him. He was practically putty in my arms now, just moaning and breathing in utter bliss, clutching onto me, feeling that thick, potent seed flood his body and spread its warmth throughout his flesh. I felt my energy soak into him and meld with him like an ethereal extension of my body. Now we were bonded. Now he was mine.

My cock continued pumping my seed up into him, more semen than a healthy beta male could pump out in a week. But it would soak into him quickly. By tonight he’d feel better, stronger, and healthier than he’d ever been before in his life. And it would last for days. I breathed deep from the hair on the top of his head. The virgin musk was gone, replaced with a weaker version of my own. No other man would ever satisfy him like this. I owned this twink.

Beneath us I felt some of my seed roll down my balls and drop onto the grass. I’d obviously filled him beyond capacity. I gently pulled out, kissing him the whole time. Panting, I set him down and stood him up.

“Oh my fuck…” he moaned as he leaned on me, gently shifting his weight from leg to leg, panting like he’d just run a marathon. We were both pretty sweaty. I just held him there in the centre of those cedars, stroking his back, squishing his cum between our torsos as we recovered for a few minutes. Then I separated us and smiled down at him. I ran a finger over my abs, collecting some of his juices. I brought my finger to my mouth and sucked it clean.

“Mmmmm…” I said, rubbing our crotches together. “You taste good.”

He looked up at me panting and grinning.

“Please… tell me… we can… do that… again,” he said.

“Absolutely, little dude,” I said, handing him his clothes. “You are way too hot to let go.”

Stewey and I hit the showers together and then later that night hit the town for some beers. Turns out we’re both, like, one-sixteenth Irish… or something. It was nice to have someone to toast the return of the warm weather with me. Stewey’s actually pretty nice to hang out with. He’s a psych major. A year younger than me. I totally plan on spending more time with that hottie!

As far as I know I’m the only alpha in town. It’s been rough at times, but pretty awesome in other ways. It means a whole town full of twinks and studs that I don’t have to share! But it also means not having another alpha to bond with. It means no one to talk to about alpha stuff with. Which is why I decided to start writing in this diary. As long as no one reads it I figure that’s cool. Besides, even alphas need to vent and express themselves from time to time.

I had kinda hoped Chad might have alpha’d up by now, that rugby-playing, muscle-bound teddy bear who kept me warm and fed all winter. We sure spent enough time bonding, on every level imaginable. But nope. Guess it’s just not in the cards for him. Maybe he’d be up for double-teaming Stewey with me one night, though. Hummm… I think I’ll stick a pin in that one.

We were going to resolve the argument as we often did, and that was OK with me, although our arguments were coming closer together and becoming more serious. I thought Cam and I had reached the point of no return on arguments. And as we moved into the resolution of this one, with the beefy running back for the Los Angeles Rams football team pulling me on top of him on his bed in the Laurel Canyon bungalow we shared, we were moving into another argument if he got shitty about it.

The big, black bruiser wanted me to ride him bareback. He always wanted to do it bareback, but he had too many sex partners for me to put up with that. We lived together and were considered a couple but that didn’t keep him from fucking around. I did some fucking around myself, but it was done with a safety net of condom use.

We struggled a bit, but I got a condom rolled onto his huge cock, with him on his back, and me straddling his hips. Once I’d positioned the cockhead and started descending on it, he gave up on the preference of barebacking—at least this time—grasped my buttocks with his hands, and rolled, separated, and bounced my cheeks while I rode the cock.

We plowed on to a mutual ejaculation that, with the practice we’d had in the three years we’d been together on and off, we managed almost simultaneously. He was a twenty-six-year-old, six-foot-one, 215-pound hunk power top, and I was a slim but well-muscled white, twenty-four-year-old, five foot ten, 165-pound professional male model submissive, so we couldn’t have been better matched. That was other than he wanted to fuck around barebacking, and I wanted to live a relatively long life.

After the last long slide and me collapsing backward, both of us jerking off our climaxes, panting heavy, and murmuring our “Oh, shit, oh fuck” pleasure of our completions, I heard the groan from across the room and turned my face to see the man leaning in the doorway, watching us, and with his erection out, by all appearances having managed to come with his stepson, Cam Atwell, and me.

Richard Taylor was white. He was dressed in some sort of uniform I hadn’t seen him in before. I hadn’t seen him much at all since I’d been with Cam. He was a handsome, trim, but well-muscled, ginger guy in his late forties—but fit enough to be taken to be in his twenties. He wasn’t old enough or the right color to be Cam’s dad, but Cam’s dad had never been in the picture and Taylor had married Cam’s mother and taken on the boy she already had. When she split, Taylor had been the only parent Cam had through his high school years, through college, and being taken up by pro football.

The stepfather obviously had enjoyed the view, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t embarrassed—slightly, at least—that he’d found his stepson and me fucking and had stayed around to enjoy the performance.

“Sorry, Shawn,” he said to me but then addressed Cam. “Just dropped by to tell you I wouldn’t see you again until the new year—I have to work and will be out of town for a while—and to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. You two doing something special for New Year’s Eve?”

“I have to work too,” I said, rolling off the bed, picking up the Speedo I’d been wearing before the fuck, and heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll be in Virginia for Christmas and New Year’s.” It was the morning of Christmas Eve now, so it wouldn’t take a genius for Taylor to know I had a plane to catch in the next few hours.

I gathered up the clothes I was going to travel in—I was a regular fashion model for the Abercrombie & Fitch sexy boys advertisement campaign, so the clothes I traveled in were attention getting—and I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. When I came out, Cam was turned to the wall, producing a half-way-convincing snore, and his stepfather was gone. Cam didn’t like to do good-byes, and I don’t think he had much of an idea that we were approaching that last good-bye in our relationship, so I just told him I’d call him when my second flight landed at the airport in Newport News, Virginia, near Williamsburg, my final destination. He didn’t know that I was going early to my Williamsburg-at-Christmas fashion shoot. I was getting there early enough to make the shoot’s director, Vincente Calibrese, happy with a couple of tumbles in bed. But Cam wouldn’t care even if he knew I would be in the sack with the shoot’s director. Our relationship was that open.

Juan, the nineteen-year-old pool boy was fiddling with the Christmas tree by the fireplace in the living room as I passed. He was just in a Speedo and I didn’t know why he was in the house rather than out cleaning the pool, but, in fact, I did know. He was just waiting for me to leave. He had been the source of one of my arguments with Cam that morning. It wasn’t about Cam fucking the pool boy. Cam had promised to use a rubber with Juan, but when I’d asked Juan about it, he acted like I was crazy to think Cam ever wore protection.

I didn’t want to share medical issues with Juan. He gave me a little sneer when I passed him by. We both knew he’d be where I recently was after I’d left for LAX. He’d be saddled on Cam’s hips, riding him in a bouncing cowboy. And Cam wouldn’t be wearing a condom. Whatever Juan picked up from somewhere could be transmitted to me if I wasn’t careful.

I got as far as my Mustang and checked my messages. The flight to Chicago to hook up with on ongoing flight to Newport News already was on an hour delay. I checked the weather Web site and saw that a blizzard was brewing to come down into the country’s midsection over the Great Lakes and that it already was having an effect on flight schedules. I could wait off the trip to the madhouse of the airport for another hour.

I climbed out of the Mustang and went back into the house. I heard them as soon as I entered the foyer. Cam and Juan were fucking, and they were doing it pretty wildly. And I knew they were doing it without protection. They hadn’t even waited for me to get out of the driveway.

This wasn’t going to continue going on. My new year’s resolution was going to be to move out and go to a new phase of life in my own apartment when I returned from the Williamsburg shoot.

I continued on into town near to Los Angeles International Airport in Inglewood to where A&E had offices, spent my extra hour there, left my car parked in the company garage, and took a cab to the airport.

I was standing in front of the erotica section in an airport bookstore, browsing for something to take onto the plane with me, when I noticed another tall guy browsing the shelves too. He was a handsome guy, probably in his early forties. What was arresting about him, though, was that he was in airline officer’s flight uniform and that he was looking at me and smiling. I took a book off the shelf, a gay male short story anthology called Rough Riders, which had a cover making clear what sort of book it was. There was no hiding that I was buying a gay male book. Of course the good-looking guy was browsing this shelf too.

The man’s smile remained on his face and he reached by me and pulled down one titled House of Lords, with a bare-chested thuggish muscle man on the cover. His arm brushed on mine and I felt the chill of arousal go up my spine. Some men flipped my switch immediately. He did. I nodded to him after I’d paid for my book and went on to the departure area, which was mobbed with milling-around people.

I was looking through my carry-on bag, tucking the book I’d bought in when the flight crew arrived—flight attendants and pilots altogether in uniforms—the same uniform the guy in the bookstore had worn and that, now that I thought about it, I had seen recently before—I tried to take the same airline when I could, as A&F let its staff keep their air reward points—but I couldn’t pick him out.

That would make a good story, I thought. Two seeking gay guys encountering each other in an airport bookstore buying gay male reading material and winding up on the same flight, going to the same city. I spent the next few minutes weaving a story about this in my mind, a pastime I enjoyed doing. Because of the weather report I’d seen and being worried that I might be stranded in Chicago, I let my imagination spin the story out to be where the flight was terminated at the destination by a blizzard and the two guys hooked up—a passenger and the flight pilot. As with a lot of stories I wove in my mind, this one aroused me sexually.

And then it became a possibility.

I usually was flown business class to photo shoots, but this time nothing had been available on either leg of the trip except economy class. But before we boarded, my name was called. I went to the desk to find that I was being upgraded to business class. And then, no sooner had we gotten up in the air than a smiling flight attendant appeared beside my seat with a glass of ice and one of those small, one-drink bottles of Glenlivet Captain’s Scotch.

“Compliments of the captain,” an obviously gay steward said, with a knowing smile. The steward had latched on to me as soon as I entered the plane, giving me an “I know you’re one of those sexy boy Abercombie & Fitch models” assessment.

I didn’t catch the name of the pilot, but I knew there was a more-than-even chance he’d identify himself to me when we landed in Chicago. He was out of luck, though, unless Chicago was being socked in by a blizzard when we arrived. I only had an hour to get to my connecting flight after the delay of my flight from LAX.

* * * *

Chicago O’Hare was, of course, in the process of being socked in by a blizzard when we landed there. Ours was the last flight landed and the last flight out had already departed. As we taxied to the gate they closed the runways. The blizzard had come in fast with heavy snow mixed with ice. We got to the terminal, but from there there wasn’t going to be any onward travel through Christmas Eve and into Christmas Day—at least.

The first thing I did when I had made it into the gate lounge, where passengers already were mobbing the ticket counters with “What now?” problems in near hysteria tones, was to find an empty line of chairs near the edge of the area and to call the advance shoot team in Williamsburg, Virginia.

“Sylvia? I’m Shawn Brantley, one of the male models for the Williamsburg A&E winter fashion shoot for the 29th. Vicente Calibrese wanted me to check in with him on my arrival there later tonight. I’ve arrived in Chicago, but a snowstorm has shut the airport down. Is there a way to let him know I can’t arrive until at least tomorrow, Christmas Day?” It was the best way I could put it. I couldn’t say Calibrese wants me to arrive early, tonight, because he wants to fuck me for four days before the shoot starts.

“We know all about the snowstorm. He won’t care that you’ll arrive late,” Sylvia said. “He’s not coming anymore at all. The blizzard extend all across the northern states and has him trapped in New York. So, he’s been moved to another project in New York. Denis Waters has taken over the direction of the Williamsburg shoot. He was already here working on pinning the venue arrangements down. Do you want me to try to find him? Do you need to talk to him?”

“No, that’s fine,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll make it there by the 29th. Just keep my room open and I’ll report in my changed travel schedule when I have it.”

And that was that. I wasn’t expected in Williamsburg now for four more days. I looked around to see if any of the flight crew from my flight was still in the area. Would my imagined story come true? I did see the crew come off together. The flight attendant who had brought me the Scotch looked at me and smiled. We both knew we both were submissives, though, and that there would be no connection beyond our knowing smiles. The two pilots were there, but I could tell by their height and body mass that neither one of them was the pilot who had given me the “maybe hookup in Chicago” look in the L.A. airport bookstore.

I was only barely aware that one of the pilots broke off and moved toward me when I heard, “There you are, Shawn. Did you have a good flight?”

I knew the voice and it then hit me where I’d recently seen that uniform before. Cam’s stepfather, Richard Taylor, had been wearing that uniform as he stood in Cam’s bedroom doorway and watched me climax on his stepson’s cock.

“Mr. Taylor,” I said. “What a surprise to see you here. I didn’t know we’d be on the same flight.”

“When you said you were flying to Williamsburg via Chicago today, I figured we would be. I was on for a flight to Chicago. I checked the manifest and saw you were listed.”

“So, it was you who got me upgraded and a glass of that expensive Scotch.” That mystery solved was rather deflating. It was my lover’s stepfather, not the result of a chance encounter at an airport bookstore. The bookstore guy was a real hunk. Cam’s stepfather was good enough looking too, but I’d been thinking of the bookstore guy. That certainly took the romance out of it. No interesting short story to write on that.

“Yep, that was me. What now? It seems we’re both stranded here. I was scheduled to take flight back to L.A. in the morning, but it doesn’t look now like that’s going to happen. I’ll get a new flight when the shutdown here is lifted. I’ve already been told that won’t be until at least tomorrow, though.”

“So, we’re stuck here. And all of these people are stranded here with us,” I said, looking around. “I was going to hold off trying to find someplace to eat and regroup, as everyone else would be trying to do the same. But it looks like it doesn’t matter what I do. There will be a mob of other people trying to do the same.”

“Lucky we met up, then,” Taylor said. “I can be daddy. I can take charge in negotiating a way through this for both of us. The flight crews have their own restaurants tucked around here and there. You can come with me and we’ll find someplace to eat. If we do it on the quick we should be able to get a table without waiting.”

It wasn’t just a convenient plan; it was a godsend. I wasted no time in accepting the offer.

As we were eating in a place that was halfway between a cafeteria and a table-cloth restaurant and that was so calm in atmosphere that we’d have no idea of the panic and frustration running through the O’Hare terminals if there wasn’t a huge window we were sitting beside. It overlooked the frigid blizzard conditions outside on the deserted runways. Taylor and I became better acquainted and more comfortable with each other as we took our time eating our meal, there being no place either one of us had to be anytime soon.

Before now, I had been leery of the stepfather’s attitude of his black football player stepson getting it on with a white male fashion model. After earlier in the day, though, I realized that it wasn’t that Taylor had anything against gay relationships. I realized I had made an effort not to know about him. I hadn’t even known he was a commercial airline pilot. I certainly hadn’t found myself assessing him for any sort of personal relationship. Having time to do so now, I did so.

“I confess I’ve been staying away from your arrangement with Cam,” he said, almost as if he realized I was just then assessing him for more than just my boyfriend’s absent stepfather.

“I realize that. The same from my end,” I said. “I thought you wouldn’t approve of a gay relationship your son was in.”

“My stepson, and it should be obvious to you now that it wasn’t that. I’m not talking about just staying out of my son’s pick for friends—and, yes, lovers, knowing he’s gay. I’m talking about my own attraction to you. Does that repel you?”

I paused. “I haven’t thought about that, but, no, it doesn’t repel me.”

He’d extended his hand and was brushing the hair on my forearm with his fingers. I don’t know if he even was aware he was doing that, but I certainly was. And what did I think of him doing that? Being as how he was the father—if somewhat remotely—of the man who was fucking me? Strangely, what I felt was arousal. I thought he was signaling that he wanted to fuck me too. And that didn’t bother me; that turned me on. I took a closer look at him. He was a handsome man and he looked very fit for his age—something over forty, I thought. I’d done it with older men. One has to do that in the fashion world to get anywhere. And when they were good-looking and fit, it was fine. They tended to have more experience, more good moves and positions than younger, “get it now and get it quick” guys.

Cam Atwell was a “get it now and get it quick” guy.

“Should I stop talking now and leave it there, or is there some hope—can I say more?”

I paused again to look out onto the snow building up on the runway. I couldn’t say I was repelled by what he had been saying—what I was assessing in him. “No, that’s fine. We can talk.”

“You don’t mind talking about these things with an older man?”

“I have no trouble with your age.”

“I’m not too old to get it up,” he said. We both gave a nervous little laugh at that. He continued. “I stayed away because I was frustrated and disappointed that my stepson found you first.”

There it was then, fully out in the open. He did want to fuck me. Too bad we were stuck in public in a crowded locked-down air terminal. I wasn’t going to have the opportunity to even decide whether to open myself to the possibilities with Cam’s stepfather.

“Does that disturb you or turn you off?” he asked, his enticing, hopeful puppy-dog gray eyes locked onto mine.

“No, it doesn’t,” I answered. “You should know, though, that it’s winding down between Cam and me. I don’t think we’ll be together when I return to L.A.”

“I would hope you didn’t think that that meant you had to avoid any contact with me,” he said. His knee was nudging mine under the surface of the table. I’d had my thighs together and I, almost involuntarily, spread them and his knee pressed in against my inner thigh.

He was about to say something else, when he stopped abruptly and said, instead, “We’ve finished our meal and I see other flight crews have decided they’d better eat and this table is needed. Another perk we have is access to the VIP lounges. That would be a more comfortable way to spend Christmas Eve than on a bank of seats in any of the crowded departure lounges where everyone is trying to make the best of the blizzard lockdown. Would you like to spend Christmas Eve with me on a VIP lounge?”

“That sounds great,” I said. He didn’t say it was a date, and these were the circumstances for having a date. But I could tell that we both thought of it as having a date. That, of course, raised the question of whether I’d do it on the first date. I’d done it on first dates before, though, so, as far as I was concerned, that wasn’t any sort of a hurdle. He put his hand on the small of my back to help guide me out of the restaurant. At the door it descended to the curve of my buttocks.

And I didn’t move away from his touch.

We found a VIP lounge where they were determined to enjoy Christmas Eve. There was a decorated tree; fairy lights all about; with the overhead lights dimmed down, free-flowing liquor and snacks; a piano with more than one accomplished stranded passenger pianist; and even a karaoke machine with Christmas tunes in it. The crowd was large, but not overwhelming, and it was determined to make the best of it. We sat around in the semi-dark, drinking, looking at the decorated tree, listening to various people stepping forward to play or sing Christmas tunes, and otherwise getting comfortable. I sang some myself and was well received, which was only right as I took singing lessons as well as modeling and dance lessons, with the goal, although with thousands of other young hopefuls living in L.A. of being discovered by the movies. And, sitting with Richard Taylor and both of us mellowing out with liquor, I allowed myself to become very comfortable with him.

We were sitting in an area more dimly lighted than most. He put an arm around me and drew me into his side. First his hands and then mine became intimate with the other.

We came out of a kiss, and Taylor murmured. “It’s Christmas morning now. There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“One of the perks for pilots when they’re stranded like this—the company rented me a hotel room. There’s a Hilton that can be accessed directly from Terminal 2. You don’t have to sleep in a departure lounge tonight. You can be in a hotel room and not even have to go through security check again to get back to the departure gates. I can get us into the baggage area where all of the baggage from flights needing to be rebooked is being held. We can get your luggage and you can sleep in my room tonight. I can get the bag back on the right plane tomorrow.”

“That sounds like a plan,” I said.

“The room’s a small one—just a double. Just a double bed,” he said.

“That still sounds like a plan,” I said.

We went into another kiss. His hand went to my crotch and mine went to his.

There was no misunderstanding between us.

* * * *

Sunlight was streaming in through the window of the Hilton Hotel room, which was a good sign that it wasn’t snowing anymore. But the window was on the “quiet” side of the hotel, not facing the runways, so we couldn’t tell if the storm was really over and the tarmac was being cleared. I was on my side, facing the window. Rich—I was now calling Richard Taylor a more intimate name, because, God knows, we’d been intimate again and again—was embracing me from behind with an arm under me. The hand of the other arm was gripping my knee, holding my leg back over his thigh to give him deeper access. He was fucking me.

It seemed he always was fucking me, which was fine with me. I only had to worry if we’d run out of condoms—but we didn’t. And that was a point in his favor—actually two points. I never had to remind him to use a condom and he declared that he didn’t sleep around.

It was late in the morning of December 26th. There didn’t seem to be much reason to get out of bed, so we hadn’t. For two days, we alternated between fucking in the hotel bed, venturing out to eat and roam the terminals to observe how those less fortunate than we were in accommodation were faring as well as whether the blizzard conditions outside were improving, and then back to the hotel room to fuck some more. We went to a different VIP lounge on Christmas night and joined in a party there.

Rich was a consummate cocksman. He was well endowed, muscular, vigorous, and virile, and he knew how to maintain the arousal and interest of a submissive. He fucked me almost constantly for two days and introduced me to melting positions I had no idea before even existed.

I was, in many ways, a pity that I’d met and gone under his stepson, Cam, before I’d met him. He was much the better and more considerate lover.

His cellphone went off and, with a grunt, he pulled out of me, rolled over, and sat up on the side of the bed to take the call.

“They are beginning to clear planes for takeoff,” he said when he clicked off. “I have a flight to pilot later this afternoon. You should be getting a call too, I suspect, about your flight to Newport News.”

“That soon, do you think?” I asked. But he was right. My cellphone was buzzing too.

“I got you on a priority call list,” he said, as I rolled toward the window and grabbed for my phone.

If you were going to get stranded by a blizzard in a hotel terminal, I thought, you couldn’t do better than be with a senior airline pilot. I mentioned that to him a couple of times while we were walking the terminals and he just smiled and said he was my Blizzard Daddy. I couldn’t deny that.

“I’ve got a call for a later afternoon flight too,” I said.

“So, we have time,” Rich said, reaching out for me, going onto his back, and saddling me on his pelvis.

“Oh, shit, oh, fuck!” I exclaimed as he set me on his erection and I started sliding down his pole. “You can’t get enough, can you?” I whimpered.

“No, no, I can’t get enough of you,” he answered, as he gripped my waist between his hands, I leaned back, grasping his knees, and I used my own bent knees straddling his hips and the help of his strong hands to rise and fall on his cock.

* * * *

When I woke up again, Rich was coming out of the bathroom. He had his pilot’s uniform on.

“The snow’s been swept from the runways. The airport is open. The planes are flying again.”

“Good,” I said. He discerned the reluctance and slight regret in my voice.

“I don’t regret any of this—regardless of what you do with Cam from here. If you do, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I took advantage.”

“You didn’t take advantage,” I said. “And I have no regret—other than that I didn’t meet you before I met Cam. But don’t worry about him. We were on the out anyway—him as much as me, I think.”

“So, you will be moving house when you get back to L.A.?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“If you need a place—even temporarily—you know you can—”

“Thanks,” I said, “I will.” And I would.

“The room’s taken care of,” he said. “Just leave the key card on the dresser. I had your flight ticket pulled, printed, and delivered by the front desk. It’s there on the dresser. Your baggage is matched up with your flight. I’ve got to go now. It’s been . . . I’m glad that—”

“Me too,” I said and then he was gone. When I rolled out of the bed, I walked over to the dresser. He had gotten me a first-class seat on the plane from Chicago to Newport News, the airport serving Williamsburg.

The term “Blizzard Daddy” came to mind and I smiled. I hadn’t minded having a daddy to take care of me for a few days. And it was like he, a senior commercial pilot, was a king in an airport. He’d been quite the daddy to me.

When I went to the departure gate, I found myself looking around for men in flight uniforms from Rich’s airline, which was the same one I’d come into Chicago on and was going out on again. I didn’t see him, but I did make eye contact with several men—and women too—who were struck by my Abercrombie & Fitch look. I was used to that. I still, though, felt a tug of disappointment each time that they weren’t Rich.

After the plane had reached cruising altitude, a flight attendant came to me with tray holding a glass with ice and a one-shot bottle of Glenlivet Captain Scotch.

“Compliments of Captain Taylor,” she said. This time I caught the name.

I laughed. He’d arranged to pilot the flight taking me to Newport News. There was a note with the liquor.

“Don’t know where you’re staying in Williamsburg,” it said, “But I’ve booked for two at the Williamsburg Inn. I don’t fly out again until January 2nd. I’ve booked for New Year’s Eve at the inn’s dining room in case you’re interested.” He’d signed it “Blizzard Daddy.”

The flight attendant gave me a knowing smile, but I didn’t give a shit. I was very interested in the proposal. I was being taken care of for New Year’s Eve—and beyond, I hoped.

It seemed as if the building work had been going on forever. Ben had lost any sense of what the work was meant to be achieving as he encountered an ever growing list of contractors each day. They all had one thing in common though as they all wanted to raid the supply of chocolate biscuits every twenty minutes or so and the demands for tea or coffee never ended. The only thing that was different were the amounts of milk and sugar that each of them preferred. Then there were the demands for money that kept on coming in. “Oh we will just call it two shall we mate?” became a depressingly familiar phrase. Sadly, Ben became quite adept at working out if they meant two hundred, two thousand or (on one never to be forgotten occasion) two hundred thousand. Luckily the latter only happened once and proved to be an accounting error.

On the day in question Ben was just admiring the new windows in the dining room from the inside. He had reached up to open the catch on one of them and could feel his shirt becoming untucked. This was annoying and he started to tuck it back in. The best way of doing this was to simply undo the top of his jeans and at the same time readjust his cock in his briefs whilst he was in there. He started to do this and was fiddling about in his pants when he realised that he was not alone. What Ben had forgotten was that the blinds had not gone back up as yet and so he was standing in front of a huge window on full view of the street seemingly fiddling about inside his pants. This had been observed by one of the builders on site. He was a bit of a hairy hunk and Ben had observed him in his shorts and vest which revealed a beautifully muscled chest which had just enough hair on it to emphasise his muscles without covering them too much. His legs were a work of art and very muscled with a nice covering of dark hair. Suddenly the builder stopped what he was doing to watch Ben and adopted a bit of a porn star pose up against the church wall opposite with his right knee raised just enough to give a good view of an interesting package in his shorts. Ben turned away and finished his adjustments and turned round again. There was a knock on the front door and Ben could see the hairy hunk on the other side.

Ben opened the door and there was a moment of silence between the two men. The builder then said “Can I use you loo mate the one outside is a bit messy”. Ben said sure you know where it is. The builder said that he couldn’t quite remember where it was and could Ben show him again. They both climbed the stairs and Ben stood outside the bathroom door. The builder just looked at him and then pushed him in and shut and locked the door behind them. He pushed Ben up against the door and started to brutally kiss him and then he stepped back and started to undo his shorts. His cock was uncut and was already semi hard. He pushed Ben towards the floor and suddenly let out a stream of fresh piss all over him. “I told you that I had to go to the loo mate” he said as he continued to drench Ben. The piss was also making some interesting patterns in the hair on his legs and pooling on the floor. Whilst this was happening Ben was also getting excited and the builder saw that he was wetting himself through his trousers. The builder just smiled. The smell of piss just excited them both and the builder pulled Ben towards his cock and told him to clean it up. Ben quickly obeyed and his mouth was soon moving around the top of the builder’s cock. His own cock was twitching and wanting to be released and he let it out from his wet pants and started to wank himself off very slowly. The builder told Ben to suck his cock and suck it hard. Ben gladly obeyed. The builder started to groan a little bit and then he started to cry out “Fuck yes” over and over again. Suddenly Ben’s mouth was full of cum and then his hands felt hot and sticky as he too released his load all over his hands. The builder winked at Ben and said “not bad for a quickie. Got to be off now as the boss will be wondering where I am. I am meant to be cleaning up the loo outside”.

They both stood there looking at each other. The builder then just said to Ben that he would be back tomorrow to help put back up the blinds and then left Ben covered in piss and cum. Needless to say they made good use of the new found privacy in the dining room once the blinds had gone back up.

I returned home that first summer from school at the end of April a full 6 inches taller and 30 pounds heavier. At 5’9” I was a smooth toned jock, very different than the skinny kid next door when I left. Very different indeed, as I had just walked away from a potential relationship with a university professor.

Leaving Professor Tom Davies was rough, but I was only 19 and not ready to live with a man who was a former teacher of mine. He had asked me to stay with him, but I had a summer job waiting for me back in my hometown, a landscaping company that I had started with the year before I left for school which helped me financially. I was all set to return, despite the fact that my boss had been secretly fucking me all summer before he got married. So here I was, almost 20, back home with my mother and her boyfriend Walt, a skinny annoying man that I had nothing in common with, ready to face my former boss Frank once again.

I wasn’t sure who was more flabbergasted that first morning I showed up for work, me or Frank. Frank had put on about 10 pounds since last year, making him look even bulkier and stronger, just the way I like them. Where my professor was all blonde and bodybuilder toned, Frank was still thick and stocky like a former athlete, with thick dark hair and a constant 5 o’clock shadow. I had always had a thing for Frank, especially during our secret sex sessions all last summer, but he was married now, his gold wedding band flashing in my eyes as I took in his 6’3” frame and tried hard not to get too excited standing in front of him again.

But it was Frank who was outright staring and commenting on me. Last time he saw me I was a skinny 5’3” twink. Now I was the muscular jock with the broad shoulders and icy steel blue eyes with a round hard ass that begged to still be fucked. I could see Frank’s dark eyes widen, and lustfully look over my body as his mouth hung open. But he was the one that ended it with me, saying he couldn’t continue because he was expected to be married. Even though he was feeling just the same as I was.

“Holy fuck look at you! Did they feed you steroids up there at school?” His deep voice filled the garage as I set my lunch container down and took a swig of water from my thermos, showing off my bicep. He noticed, and rubbed his scruffy chin. “Did you grow like half a foot?” He tilted his head as he looked at me and I saw the look in his eyes, which matched my own.

I had learned a lot my first year. From Aaron, the hot gym rat that helped me train and bulk, and more. From Sean, my next-door residence bud, who also helped me out in the gym, and late at night. From Stefan, the massive football player and a few of his teammates. And most especially, Professor Tom, who taught me I was every bit a Daddy’s boy, someone to satisfy the needs of hot older men. And here was one, once again, standing in front of me, looking at me like a piece of fuckable meat.

“How’s Tracie?” I asked him and saw the effects my words had on him. If it wasn’t for Tracie, Frank and I would probably still be fucking. We’d probably be fucking right now by the look in his eyes. Or even the way I was feeling seeing him again.

Frank crossed his big arms over his chest and stared me down. “Very pregnant.”

My eyes widened and I held out a hand to shake. “Well congratulations big guy!”

He took my hand immediately and I felt that rush of warmth, that feeling of his large hand over mine, and I didn’t want to let go. It had only been a week since I said goodbye to another giant man, but here I was, back with this familiar sexy man, feeling the need already. If I didn’t have such a thing about messing around with married guys, I’d probably be pulling his dick out right now. My eyes went to his crotch, and I remembered just how big his dick was.

“She’s due in a couple months now and is complaining non-stop. I come here to get away.” He grabbed my shoulder with his other hand and gave a squeeze, rubbing down to get a feel of my bicep before he let go of my other hand still gripped in a shake. “Jesus Brian you’re fuckin’ jacked now.”

I had purposely left my sweater off. I wanted to show Frank just what I had become in the year I was gone. And it was working. Until I saw him glance up and look at another guy walking in.

He caught himself and looked back at me. “Oh hey, got a few new workers this summer. Nando, come on over and meet Brian.” Frank waved at the young guy walking in, a dirty blonde haired skinny guy, about my height and age. But it was the way Frank’s face changed, the way his demeanor shifted, that right away I had my suspicions about who this guy really was and if Frank had given in to his own desires despite his commitment to his new wife.

The blonde kid smiled, his nose a bit too big for his face, light blonde hair over his skinny arms. He was my size, but thin, no muscle all limbs, and a youthful face. He held out a hand and offered me a handshake.

“Fernando. Nice to meet you.” His voice was deep for his youthful appearance, and I noted how almost white his arm hair was. He had more severe features on his face, making him look stern despite his youth, but his body was all trim and twinkish.

I returned the handshake and smiled. “Brian.”

Fernando smiled. “Yeah I heard a lot about you.” He gave Frank a smile and I immediately frowned, wondering what Frank had actually said.

As if Frank read my mind, he quickly said, “I told Nando that you headed up a crew last year and he would be working with you. Danny’s back this year too, and Jeff, so it’ll be the four of you.”

I rolled my eyes, thinking about Danny the guy who couldn’t speak a sentence without saying ‘fuck’ and Jeff, the wannabe goth kid.

More guys started arriving to the shop, so we all started to disperse, me noticing the way Frank was purposefully avoiding looking at either Fernando and myself, but still glancing over at us when he didn’t think anyone was looking. I chuckled to myself seeing the torment in his eyes at the change in me, and I even wondered if I should do something about it.

But I still had a rule about married guys. A rule that was going to change this summer apparently.

By the end of that first week back, I had settled into a routine, and was quite happy with the crew. Fernando was a nice guy, completed his first year of university away from home as well. He told me his parents were divorced, and his dad was an old friend of Frank’s and that’s how he got the job. Jeff had matured a bit too, no longer as skinny as he was last year and had cut his hair into a crew cut, making him look somewhat attractive and more tough looking, even though I still thought he had an ugly face. And Danny was still Danny, saying fuck at least twice now in every sentence he spoke. But they made me laugh, and by the end of the week, it felt good to be back doing something familiar and away from the distraction of older men.

But by the end of the week, I realized just how horny I was. I missed the feeling of a big man. I had gotten used to the larger men, and was realizing just how much I craved a MAN. I was watching guys in cars as they drove by me working. I noted the ones that did double takes, checking me out as I checked them out. I noticed the stares from closeted guys in line at fast food joints and coffee places on our breaks, holding their girlfriends’ or wives’ hands as they secretly checked me out. I saw them looking at my bulked up chest and arms, eyeing my workboots and blue workpants, my orange shirt and how it clung to my toned body. I started to realize just how desirable I was. And I started to look for the next possible encounter. I was almost 20, and feeling at the peak of my sexual prime.

We were the last crew to arrive that Friday of the first week, and Danny and Jeff were panting at the bit to get home. I apologized for being late, the last job we had went later than I anticipated, and it was almost 6 when we pulled in, a full hour behind our 5 o’clock finish. Fernando and I quickly put the equipment away as we told the other two to get going.

“You not in a hurry to leave?” I asked Fernando as Danny and Jeff disappeared with their gear out the garage door. There were no other trucks around, and the light and noise from Frank’s office was the only sign of life in the quiet garage.

“My dad picks me up so I’m stuck here till he shows up. He’s usually here around 6 so I don’t have long. Why don’t you get going. I can finish up.” Fernando didn’t look at me, just kept moving equipment from the work truck to the shelves rather quickly.

I knew this move all too well. Frank was still here. And here he was, wanting to be the last to leave. I felt a wave of jealousy wash over me before I talked myself into relaxing. There was no way anything was going on with Frank and this new skinny kid. Even though I was the one who had the problem with Frank getting married, I was sure Frank stopped too since he couldn’t have me.

“Alright then. I’m gonna take off.” We were pretty much done anyway, so I grabbed my lunch container and sweater and headed out of the garage and into my mother’s car. I took my time, opening the passenger door, then sitting in the front seat stewing, picturing Fernando going into Frank’s office like I used to do before I shook my head and convinced myself I was being stupid. I probably sat there for five minutes, watching the door, waiting for Fernando to come out. But after five minutes, I became angry, thinking that Frank and Nando WERE doing something, that Frank had indeed moved on to this twink of a kid. That was when I realized I didn’t have my water thermos. I must have forgotten it in the back seat of the truck.

It gave me a reason to go back in the garage to see for sure what those two were up to. I got out of my car quietly, closing the door gently and practically tiptoeing into the garage through the side door. It was quiet in the main area, everything neatly put aside. The door to Frank’s office was now closed but the lights were on as I could tell from the small window and the glow from below the door. I waited, trying to hear any sounds but nothing came to my eardrums.

I moved quietly to our truck and peered inside, seeing my thermos on the floor of the backseat. I opened the door slowly and retrieved my forgotten item, shutting the door as quietly as I could. I looked towards the office and thought, what the fuck, why not go and see what Frank was up to because Fernando was nowhere to be seen as he waited for his father.

And sure enough, as I got closer to the door, I heard Frank’s deep voice speaking quietly.

“Yeah that feels good boy.”

That asshole! I thought to myself, putting my ear to the closed door to try to hear more. There was mumbling, and Frank’s obvious grunts that made my cock thicken. Even listening to his sounds made me horny and I realized how much I missed that big beast. There was a small window to the side of the door, so I carefully stepped up to the corner of it and peered into the slats of the blind.

There was Frank, sitting behind his desk, pants undone with Fernando’s blonde head between his legs, getting a fast and furious blow job from what looked like a professional. Fernando was working Frank’s big thick cock expertly, his mouth moving up and down it fast, his fist wrapped around the base twisting it as he did. Frank’s big hand was on the back of Fernando’s blonde hair, a fist full of light hair contrasting Frank’s tanned hand. Frank’s head was back, his eyes closed, and this time when he spoke, I saw his mouth forming the words.

“Yeah suck it boy. Feels so fucking good!” Then his head moved forward and he looked down, his thick brows furrowing and his mouth dropped open to match the grunts I was hearing. I watched as Fernando’s eyes opened and looked up at him and he worked faster, nodding at him as Frank groaned and clenched his jaw. I could see the exposed skin of Frank’s hard belly tighten, that line of dark hair leading up to his bellybutton sending visuals of our time together into my brain. My own cock was stiff, and I grabbed my own crotch waiting for the explosion that I could tell was coming.

Frank let out a louder groan. “Here it comes boy!” I saw his grip tighten on the blonde hair and Fernando stopped sucking and jerked Frank’s beer can cock furiously in his grip, mouth open, waiting to drink.

“I knew he was a cocksucker.” I mumbled, my heart beating wildly as I watched Frank buckle in his chair and saw that first spurt of thick white cum that he was known for land directly into Fernando’s waiting mouth. A second volley of cum went across Fernando’s cheek as he shoved the entire cock back into his mouth and slurped down the rest as Frank shook in his chair. He let go of the blonde hair and grabbed the sides of his chair, eyes closed enjoying the sensation of a boy’s mouth around his exploding dick letting out low moans as quietly as he could.

I kept watching as Fernando swallowed, holding my own bulge in my hand through my pants. I saw Fernando lick the entire base and balls of his cock, Frank’s dick softening in his grip as he held it up. I could practically hear him smack his lips as he wiped the side of his face with his hand and then lick Frank’s cum off his own fingers. Fernando closed his eyes and shoved Frank’s still thick cock into his mouth, slurping off the rest of Frank’s load from his dick. It was then that Frank leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and bulging out his bigger biceps and let his eyes open wide and turned towards the door. And he stared at the window where I was watching.

I froze and thought SHIT in my head. Frank gave a half grin for a moment and then let his head fall backwards again on the chair and closed his eyes. He let out a loud sigh, which startled me and I moved away from the window, wondering if he actually saw me, or if he knew I would be watching.

I ran quietly towards the main entrance door, my bulge still thick in my pants at the display of live porn I just witnessed between my boss and co-worker, and stepped out into the cooling air to see a man of Frank’s caliber standing beside a newly parked pickup truck beside my own car.

“Oh.” I said, stopping, feeling like I had been caught twice. I shoved one hand into my pocket to try to conceal my encased package, as my other one gripped my thermos handle.

The man was big, like Frank. Italian looking, like Frank. Stocky and thick, like Frank. A meaty look about him, like a former wrestler turned businessman in his dress shirt and pants, open neck revealing a thick gold chain and a smooth looking chest. His neck was thick like a tree trunk, his arms massive in his rolled up sleeves. He had a bit of a gut hanging over his belted pants, and he had been facing away from the door when he heard me stepping outside, giving me a glimpse of a nice round meaty ass before he turned around. And when I saw his face, I felt that desire for a thick older man come crashing over me once again.

He had a thick head of dark curly head of jet black hair. His sleeves were rolled up showing arms  that weren’t hairy, but looked almost smooth compared to the dark features of this brute. He had a thick Roman looking nose and a dark 5 o’clock shadow like Frank. He had the air of authority and I thought he was going to yell at me for no reason at all.

He gave me a nod and a warm smile which suddenly made me think of a better looking Jim Belushi and it made me stop in my tracks as I took him all in. “How’s it goin’? You guys almost done in there?”

I stared at him, unsure of what he meant.

“I’m Nando’s dad.”

“You are?” I was surprised, the blonde twink coming from THIS dark haired hunk. “I mean, oh? Uh…” I turned back to the door I just closed and looked back at the big bear of a man. “Yeah, we just got back. He’s just checking in with Frank so I’m sure he’ll be right out.”

The man nodded, putting his hands on his hips and he squinted at me. “You one of Frank’s boys?”

I wasn’t sure what that meant but I held out a hand regardless. “Yeah, Brian. I worked here last year too.”

The man’s face softened even more as I saw his tightened jaw relax and he smiled even wider. He took a slow step towards my outstretched hand as his eyes locked on mine. “Ah. Brian. I’ve heard about you. And Nando’s a bit jealous of you I think.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a strong shake, my arm trying to match the intensity of his grasp, and the shock of electricity that bolted through me at this big man’s touch. He pointed at me with his finger up and down my body. “He said you were ripped, and he wasn’t kidding.”

I felt my cheeks redden as his hand remained, until we both sort of stopped shaking and pulled our hands away. I looked up at this man, a good six inches taller than me. He had to be the same size and build as Frank. They could be brothers they looked so similar. And of course, my mind started to wander as I took in the bulk of his body. I could see the roundess of his biceps under his shirt, two nipples protruding through his dress shirt in the middle of two firm round pecs. Other than the gut, he looked strong and solid, like a real man. Like Frank. Fuck, even with the gut he was solid. He had a full head of hair for a man his age, which had to be at least 45 given he was Fernando’s dad. And I didn’t see a wedding ring, remembering that Fernando had said his parents were divorced.

“Thanks. Yeah I worked out pretty hard this year. Had a few buddies take good care of me and show me the ropes, and I focused on my protein intake.” I had to laugh at myself for saying it, the protein intake. But I said it and watched the man’s reactions. I mean, his son was inside the shop blowing this man’s buddy, and I couldn’t help but keep my porn brain active.

The large man nodded and folded those giant arms over what appeared to be a firm barrel chest and I think I let out a small moan as I saw everything flex under his shirt. “Well Nando’s hoping this job will bulk him up a bit more.”

I laughed again. “I think this job will help for sure.” I couldn’t help but think of him swallowing Frank’s load and smiled. “Do you want me to go get him for you? Let him know you’re here.”

He shook his head. “Nah. He comes out when he’s done. I’m sure he’s just, uh…cleaning up in there.”

I paused, thinking of Nando cleaning up alright. But something about this man was making me curious. “You a friend of Frank’s?”

He smiled at me, rocking on his feet as he stared down at me. Black dress shoes. Probably a size 13 by my guess. His legs thick in his dress pants. “Yeah. Frank and I go way back. We played football together in high school. Still get together every now and then to play poker and drink and stuff.” His eyes held mine and he kept smiling at me, looking sexy as fuck.

I heard the mention of poker and let my tongue slide out of my lips as I took that in. “Cool.” I said, eyeing this man’s wide thighs as he stood there, feet apart, glaring down at me. “I only met Frank last year. At a poker game as a matter of fact.” I looked up for any sign of knowledge, feeling rather confident. I had serviced a few men that night, but it was Frank that I wanted. And Frank wanted me. Now this masculine man’s son was taking my place. And I was way overdue and feeling rather vengeful.

The man’s eyes widened, and then looked me up and down with that frozen smile. “Oh yeah?” His mouth sort of hung open as he lifted his chin up and I could see the wheels turning. I knew Frank and his buddies visited Rick’s Poker Nights – or his Poke Him Nights as Rick called them. He seemed like just the type that would visit.

“Yeah. I guess Frank took a shine to me and offered me a job that night. It was a favour to his buddy Rick. You know him?” I was feeling sexy now, testing this big man in front of me.

This time I saw the light bulb in his head and his stance changed, his face relaxed even more and his smile turned rather lustful. “Yeah I know Rick. Big Rick.” His eyes squinted as he stared at me. He reached a large hand up and rubbed his stubble before he wiped his luscious looking lips with his fingers. “Haven’t been to one of those nights in a while. Too bad I missed seeing you there.”

I shrugged, seeing some thickening in his dress pants. “I haven’t been back. Too many players for me. I don’t like to play with that many guys.” I raised my eyes up to him and saw the look in his eyes. It was the same look Frank had.

There was a moment of silence as we stood there, facing off, the sexual tension now filling the space between us. He was into me. I could tell. And I certainly was into this divorced man. The father of the boy who was inside just now blowing my former man.

He peered over my shoulder and looked at the door. “You need a ride home?” His voice was suddenly deeper, throaty even as if he could hardly contain his thoughts.

I shook my head with a laugh and pointed to my mother’s car. “I’ve got a car.”

“Too bad cause I could certainly give you a ride.” His smile was lecherous, and he overtly pulled the middle of his pants up to give himself some adjustment to his groin area. He stared at me making sure I noticed.

I noticed all right.

He smiled at me slightly and his tongue licked his bottom lip, moistening it as he stared at me. Without a word, he walked towards the side of the garage and peered in the window of the door before he turned back to me. With a hand now on his package, he nodded towards the side of the building and walked to it. The back of the garage was your typical alleyway, covered by large trees against an empty area. I followed without a second thought.

He stopped around the corner of the building and leaned against it, pulling at his fly and fishing his thick hand inside his pants to remove his cock as I stepped towards him. Here was a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to show me what he had. He let his cock hang out, a meaty looking thick one like the rest of him, cut with a fat mushroom head and thick veins running up the side. He had pulled his nuts out too, so there, leaning against the wall in his white dress shirt and black dress pants, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his thickening cock inviting me to do what I wanted with it.

“Well if we don’t have time for a ride….” He glanced up at me and waited, a sexy grin on his face.

I thought of his son sucking off Frank in the office just on the other side of the wall and didn’t waste any time. I stepped up to this hulk of a man and stared at his thickening cock. I could smell his scent as I neared his cock, taking the hard shaft by my hand as I moved close to him. I breathed him in, loving the smell of this man and opened my mouth wide as I bent over. I mimicked Fernando’s movements, twisting the base as I worked up and down to moisten it as it grew even more in my mouth. I suddenly wondered if Nando had sucked his own father’s cock, given how well he seemed to tackle Frank’s. But at this moment, I was hungry for dick, and even hungrier knowing I was sucking off Fernando’s dad as he slurped up my former man.

I looked up to see the mountainous mounds of pecs underneath that white shirt above me. Fernando’s father stared down at me with his hands still in his pockets, letting me suck his dick. It hardened to its full mast as I worked on it, matching my own size and girth. It would be fantastic to see our cocks together to compare. Even though I didn’t think we had a lot of time as Fernando could be stepping outside at any moment, my mind went to what it would feel like to have this thing buried inside me. So I worked hard, and fast, to bring this man to a satisfying end. I moaned as I did, hearing his own sounds above me. And when his breathing increased, a large hand suddenly grabbed my head and his hips started to move.

“I’m going to cum.” He said simply holding me in place. I put my hands on his pants, feeling the hard thighs underneath my fingers and let him fuck my throat. I closed my eyes, anticipating the taste and let him erupt straight into my mouth. He was quiet, not letting out many sounds or changing pace, just a man on the side of a wall shooting his load down into my guts. And like a hungry baby, I slurped every last drop down.

As I pulled off, I noted how it was still so long and hard, as if he could go again. If only, I thought in my head, thinking about bending over for this man and having him pound my ass against this very wall. I grabbed the base of his cock and stared at it before I licked the tip clean and let out a satisfying smack of my lips as I stood up. He tucked his still hard cock into his pants with some difficulty as he eyed me, giving me a half smile.

“Next time maybe I can give you that ride home?”

I stood in front of him, wiping my lips and gave him my best sexy grin. “I’d like that.”

His eyebrow arched as his eyes looked at my mouth. “Yeah?” He turned around the corner to see if anyone had exited the building yet. When he looked back, he stood up straight and grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into his face. He kissed me hungrily, his mouth open wide, his thick tongue filling my throat suddenly and sucking my breath away. My hands planted on his chest, feeling the hardness of them and making me moan into him, until he pulled my head back and just stared at me.

With a small groan, he let his thumb trace over my bottom lip as he looked at me. “I think I can have a lot of fun with you. Just don’t tell Nando.”

“No worries there.” I said, still tasting the salty mixture from this man’s load now mixed with drops of his own saliva. I wiped the corners of my mouth when he let go of me and stepped sideways, tugging at his crotch again as if he was still erect. I looked at the door too, pulling at my own pants and thinking of the two of them still inside, wondering if they were going for round two.

I looked back up at this man, how fucking sexy he looked, all manly and macho standing there with this shit eating grin on his face. He was still staring at me, probably thinking about all the ways he was going to fuck me, while I stared at him picturing him naked, seeing if he was totally smooth as he looked, wondering just how muscular and thick he was underneath all those clothes.

“I pick Nando up every night around 6.” He rubbed his chin again, turning to check the door quickly before he looked at me again. “If I show up on Monday at 5:30 would you be able to take a quick ride?”

I thought about Frank’s cum spilling into Fernando’s mouth and this big man standing in front of me. Getting back at them seemed like the right thing to do. “For sure.” I said quickly, staring up at this hulk.

He pulled me in to his body again and kissed me hard. “Good. Monday it is.” Then with a shove, he roughly pushed me from him and into the open away from the building. I stumbled to my car, looking backwards at him standing there holding his crotch, leering at me.

He waited until I was in my car before he walked to the main door of the garage and opened it, looking back at my car once before he disappeared inside.

Monday couldn’t come fast enough now.