Author: admin

  • Demoted Brother

    Setting:The tension in the hallway of the family home is palpable as Aryan continues to assert his newfound authority over Rohan, pushing him to the edge of humiliation. The soft light filtering through the curtains casts long shadows against the walls, serving as a stark reminder of the weight of the impending confrontation. With each passing moment, the atmosphere grows increasingly charged, as both brothers stand on the precipice of a confrontation that threatens to shatter the fragile peace of their familial bond.

    Characters:

    • Aryan: Fueled by a desire to exert his dominance over his older brother, Aryan relishes in the opportunity to further humiliate Rohan. Though momentarily taken aback by the sight before him, he quickly regains his composure, determined to assert his authority at any cost.
    • Rohan: Stripped of his usual bravado and forced to confront the consequences of his actions, Rohan kneels before Aryan in a state of undress. Despite his outward display of defiance, he knows that resistance is futile in the face of his brother’s newfound power.
    • Father: Though not physically present in the scene, his influence continues to loom large as Aryan carries out the disciplinary measures prescribed for Rohan’s transgressions.

    Aryan’s POV:

    As Rohan stands before me, his shame laid bare for all to see, I can feel a sense of triumph coursing through my veins. Here before me kneels my once proud older brother, stripped of his arrogance and forced to confront the consequences of his actions. And yet, despite the satisfaction that fills me at the sight of his humiliation, I know that there is still more that can be done to drive home the severity of his punishment.

    “You should have sought prior permission before borrowing those old torn shorts,” I admonish him, my voice dripping with disdain. “Even in your moment of disgrace, you still manage to disappoint those who look up to you. How truly pathetic.”

    Rohan’s gaze wavers for the briefest of moments before he offers a feeble apology, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggles to maintain his composure.

    “I…I apologize for not asking permission, sir,” he stammers, his words tinged with shame. “I…I should have known better.”

    Yet, even as Rohan seeks to make amends for his transgressions, I know that there is still more that can be done to drive home the severity of his punishment. And so, with a cruel satisfaction born from the knowledge of my newfound power, I devise a plan to further humiliate him and push him to the edge of despair.

    “Well, Rohan,” I taunt him, my voice laced with malice. “Since you failed to seek permission, it seems only fitting that you should ask for it now. Drop those old torn shorts and beg for permission to enter my room.”

    The color drains from Rohan’s face at my words, his eyes widening in shock as he realizes the depths of my cruelty. And yet, despite his obvious distress, I know that he has no choice but to comply with my demands if he wishes to avoid further punishment.

    With trembling hands, Rohan begins to remove the old torn shorts, each movement a testament to the depths of his humiliation. And as he stands before me, stripped of his last shred of dignity, I know that there is no greater satisfaction than that which comes from seeing my once proud older brother brought low by his own arrogance.

  • The English Spy

    Note: All the chapters of this story follow on chronologically from ‘The Princess and his Prince.’


    Gareth Ilar Philip Maximillian Konstandin Sebastian Robinson always felt he had come home when he returned to Triesenbourg. The mountain range and the forests that dominated the land held the myths and folklore that he, like all Fiorentines, imbibed from birth, always effected Ilar. For most of the year he was, he thought, a rational Englishman, a nonconformist protestant in a firm but un- bigoted kind of way. Just like his father, the Reverend  Dr. Philip Robinson, DD.   But in the land of his birth, – and of course his mother’s birth, Ilar felt very differently indeed. The Kingdom of Triesenbourg all 28425 square kilometres and it’s 2.50  million Fiorentines gave him an almost visceral sense of being in place like no other.

    In truth he was not just glad to be away from England, but to be away from Adam/Adamec. He was sure enough of his love for his new boyfriend. But the idea that his cousins Matthias and Zander Beaumont and Zander’s beloved Leo, planned to move permanently in 2018 to Triesenbourg had come as a shock. More than that, the passion and intensity that  Matthias had suddenly taken it upon himself to proclaim that to be truly happy Ilar would need a Fiorentine lover, had shaken him. He needed time to think.

    Still in this reflective turmoil a day later, Ilar was glad to be alone as he strode through Durazno, the capital city. It was perched magisterially in the very centre of the country, in a mountain hollow created by a long dead and defunct volcano. Looking down on the rest of the country, culturally as much as geographically,  it was widely said. The highest point of Durazno was its citadel. The citadel rose like the prow of a ship from the mountains, dominated by ancient walls joining three medieval towers seeming to stand in eternal vigilance in defence of everything that mattered to the Fiorentines and their culture. Within the walls of the citadel, two Abbeys, one dedicated to Saint Sebastian the Martyr and the other to Saint Irene and Saint Sebastian, stood stone shoulder to stone shoulder simultaneously in loyalty to Rome and in defiance of it, as they commanded a great cobbled square, (or Platza in Fiorentine.)     On the west side of the Platza, the cathedral of Saint Larius, named for Triesenbourg’s patron saint, and beside it, the episcopal residence of the Cardinal Archbishop of Durazno, held sway. That the square was named for the Harlequin, a figure central to Fiorentine folklore, rather than in honour of the country’s patron saint only added to Rome’s disquiet, – especially during the Holy See’s episodic endeavours to impose greater orthodoxy upon its most wayward of Balkan flocks.

    The most recent of such efforts had been defeated by lobbing and prayer, in which the two Abbeys and the Loyal Order of Saint Sebastian, (motto: ad regem et populum sub Dei, (for King and People under God,) played their expected part. The Polish Pope died and his Bavarian successor resigned. The rejoicing in each particular was of course muted, but also as real as it was widespread. The Te Deum presided over by the Bishop of Mauren to mark the departure from office of Benedict XVI gained worldwide notoriety and was thought controversial even in Triesenbourg.

    Ilar paused in the Platza. It was busy. The summer holidays were in full swing as the faithful moved happily between the cathedral and the two Abbeys. The more adventurous passed the ancient armoury fortress and as they waked along the medieval walls linking the three towers of the citadel and dared themselves to look over the walls the city below. Ilar looked on anxiously, lest anyone who knew him, should suddenly appear. At the moment, he wanted to be left alone. For the umpteenth time he looked at his phone. Soon he really would have to saunter passed Her Britannic Majesty’s Embassy,- but not just yet.  In the middle of the square a juggler, a zither player and a piano accordionist, distracted a group of amateur actors as they tried to rehearse their annual Easter performance of Parsifal. Though why they were doing so at the height of summer, none but they could fathom.

    In a little café where he could watch for the arrival of the cable car that would take him down to the heart of Durazno, Ilar sipped strong Turkish coffee, – the only legacy relished by the Fiorentines of the brief, but painfully remembered fourteenth century Ottoman occupation of their kingdom.  It had fallen to Ilar to break the news to his mother and father that not only was his engagement to Darshina Mishra over, but that he had been superseded in Darshina’s affections by his own sister, Violet.

    “Violet should have had the guts to come from England and tell us herself,” wept their mother angrily.

    “Perhaps so” replied Ilar, with more understanding than Zj (Zonje/Madam) Robinson, ne Nuredernje, thought her daughter deserved, “but I planned to be here anyway.”

    In this melancholy way, mother, father and son had discussed the family crisis yet again. This, entirely for the benefit of Zj Robinson’s devoted brother, Josef Nuredernje. What skills or insights the Foreign Minister brought to his understanding of this family crisis was entirely unclear to his brother-in-law and nephew alike, – as indeed his insights were to all who knew the Minister in their dealings with him matters of state. But, using what skills he had as Triesenbourg’s Foreign Minister and aspiring Prime Minister to be, Josef offered what balm he could.

    “You must not be too harsh on Violet.  In fact you should not be harsh on her at all.” Ilar’s words penetrated the anguished noise like a knife through butter. All eyes turned to him. “Violet and Darshina need our understanding. Without it they will walk away from all of us forever. Besides, I have a boyfriend. His name is Adam Langdon.”

     

    The sun shone brightly despite the slight chill in the air of  Thursday afternoon as The First Secretary stepped from the gates of the British Embassy. One discrete but rather important task to perform and a long  weekend would be his.

    “ Blessings of  be upon you,” announced an elderly priest, with a twinkle in his eye and hand raised in benediction.
    “And to you too reverend father,” came the cordial reply. John Bellemy always took pains to speak in Fiorentine even though it was almost certain that the old gentleman could speak English as good as his own.

    At 32 and 1.87m tall, the diplomat knew that he was a striking figure. In a country where blonds are relatively few and men, women and all points in between are quite open in their appraising of each other, and even men greet each other with a kiss on each cheek, the cleric’s response to him had a certain dignified style about it. For a moment Mr. Bellemy meditated on the pattern of kisses his admirer might have bestowed had they shaken hands.

    The Botanical Gardens were a favourite place for John, though as a diplomatic he would have given them a wide berth at night, when, as ‘The Rough Guide To Triesenbourg’ puts it, “The gardens become the major dogging rendezvous of Durazno.”  

    As he savoured the sights and smells he relaxed, pausing from time-to-time exchange comments with passers-by about some aspect of the gardens. He paused particularly to admire the newest shrub from southern China. It is rather beautiful he agreed with a man whose interest in the shrub was as intense as his own. By the time their brief but knowledgeable conversation was done, the diplomat had discretely taken possession of a memory stick.

     For a moment, his counterpart from the Russian embassy came into view. Interesting and indeed attractive as she was, he hurried for the exit. Now, he was definitely as off duty as any diplomatic can be and Christina Borodnova was not going to ruin that for him.

    John’s forced change of plan however yielded its own reward. Metres ahead of him he saw a smart man about his own height and maybe a year or so younger. The man turned slightly as something caught his attention. Instantly John liked what he saw and discretely followed. His bearing indicated to John, who had an eye and taste for such details, that the man was a soldier, probably in the Royal Triesenbourg Army Volunteer Reserves. –  90,000 men and 8000 women were, after all. Or perhaps he was a member of the regular forces? Whoever this stud with the carefully styled light brown hair and broad shoulders was, John Bellemy was determined to have him as a weekend treat.

    The sights and sounds of Durazno were a little muted as the  weekend drew near. But much remained as it always was. The national flag a L-R tricolour of Black White and Red flew from many buildings. Most business premises displayed pictures of the King, or the King and Queen; or of Saint Sebastian; or of the major figure in Fiorentine folklore and culture, The Harlequin in his chequered gold and black flowing garb, topped with a cap, atop of which was a bell that made no sound. Many premises displayed all three of what an eighteenth century Pope was more than displeased to learn were considered by the Fiorentines their very own Holy Trinity.

    The diplomat worried slightly as they passed the cable car port and skirted, -again to quote from The Rough Guide To Triesenbourg, – ‘The Capital’s engagingly pansexual red light district.’ Savouring every move of the well-dressed beauty with the light brown hair ahead of him, John still managed to note the number of perfectly acceptable tavernas and cafés they passed by. He shrugged apologetically in the direction of its patron as he passed the Café Dino and declined his favourite al fresco table, from where he loved to watch the city go by. At last, they turned down a cobbled side street familiar to theatre goers across the kingdom and to the diplomats accredited to it, alike.

     The Theatio Penny Farthing. had been established in 1884 by a wayward Englishman escaping from upper middle class conventions and taking a substantial portion of his father’s liquid assets with him as he did so. Finding that there was not a ready translation of ‘Penny Farthing’ that was in any way compressible to Fiorentine ears, the new theatre retained its English name. When after The Great War, the Fiorentines prudently replaced German with English as their second language, the Penny Farthing Theatre enjoyed a certain vogue. By the early 21st century the Penny Farthing had a long established reputation for what in Triesenbourg was accounted to be radical, indeed alternative theatre.

    As he stepped into the theatre foyer, the stud paused; suddenly aware of someone behind him, gave a self-conscious smile and hurried passed a quite impressive painting of a nineteenth gentleman posing beside his penny farthing bicycle, and on into the bar.

    “Ilar! Ilar,” rejoiced the directorial and management force of the theatre. The two exchanged kisses on each cheek and proceeded to kiss hands in a brief pattern from which any Fiorentine paying attention could have reasonably deduced their degree of kinship and mutual esteem.

    “I see you have brought the English spy in with you,” whispered Conrad Kelmedi.

    “Well, I am half English,” replied Ilar with a grin.

    Conrad shrugged, hugged his kinsman and opined that no one was perfect.

    “He is having undiplomatic thoughts about you, if I am any judge, Ilar.”

    With that, Conrad turned theatrically to the other new arrival.

    “Ah Mr. Bellemy,” he declaimed in English, “Welcome. A Kastice and a beer for our English spy, – on the house of course,” he instructed the bar man.

    John Bellemy gave a forced smile, as he always did whenever Fiorentines,- often ones he did not even know, – referred to him as the ‘English Spy.’ It is just the local humour assured embassy colleagues.

    Conrad did a convivial circuit of the other bar patrons and returned to his cousin.

    “Introduce me to the Englishman, he interests me,” said Ilar. “And leave out my first name. My Fiorentine second name will do.”

    Moments later, Conrad Kelmedi was introducing Ilar Robinson to an obviously delighted John Bellemy.

     “Mr. John Bellemy, let me introduce my cousin, Ilar….”

    “Ilar Berisha” put in Ilar, exchanging a quick glance with Conrad, in silent acknowledgement of the maiden name of the maternal grandmother they had in common.

    “I must go and do some proper work,” announced Conrad, “the theatre will not run itself, alas.”

    “You were going to get a ticket for me for the party celebrating the opening of the Alhambra Arts Complex tonight, Conrad.”

    For an instant, Conrad was utterly perplexed until almost visibly a bulb shone in his head and he began to bear himself as Roman actors do.

    “Yes, indeed I am.”

    “Could you, get me two? I’m sure Mr. Bellemy would enjoy the celebrations as well.”

    Conrad would have sworn that his cousin actually fluttered his eyelids in the direction of John Bellemy as he spoke.

    “Leave it with me,” Conrad replied without a apparent flicker of concern, as he wondered how on earth he could lay his hands on not one, but two tickets, with only hours to spare.

    “I hope you do not think that was, – how do you Englishmen say- forward of me,” said Ilar gently and with a slight simper.

    “Oh no,” came the entranced reply. “It will be a delight to escort you to the gallery party, Ilar. But please,” he added giving Ilar his rapt attention, “speak to me in only Fiorentine.”

    “Of course I will, Janus,” came the welcome reply from one more than happy to revert to his mother tongue.

    After half an hour, Janus had learnt that the man whom he was more than ever determined to take to his bed, has a school teacher, in the capital to spend a weekend with his parents. Janus, perhaps emboldened to minor indiscretion by less water with his Kastice than was wise, bemoaned that he had very much wanted to attend the Alhambra Arts Complex party but had not expected to do so because the Ambassador and her husband had taken up the only  tickets allocated to the embassy.

    Tentatively Janus kissed his would be conquest. To his delight and at least slight surprise, Ilar responded with enthusiasm and kissed Janus with passion. For whatever else was going on in the theatre bar, the two men had no mind.   

    “I am so glad we have met each other” said Janus in lustful sincerity as he tried to ignore the discrete pictures of the King, Saint Sebastian and the Harlequin, that now seemed to be looking with disapproval from the opposite wall.
    A text message forestalled whatever further intimations of desire Janus seemed about to express. He read the message with care before returning his attention to the man at his side, who from what the diplomat could see was utterly in thrall to his every word and action.
    “Until tonight. 7.30 outside the gallery”, he said. And with that John Bellemy was gone.

    Ilar watched his date for the night depart and disappear from view, before chatting to acquaintances in the bar.

    “Wait,” called a concerned Conrad, as Ilar was about to leave. He poured them both a glass of red wine. “I know Janus Bellemy is a bit of a blond bombshell and all of that, but don’t think with your cock.”

    “I’m not…”

    “Look I know it must be rough with your long time girlfriend dumping you for your sister..”

    Ilar bristled with indignation. It was not often that he was angry with Conrad, but right now, it was all he could do not to strike him. 

    “Darshina, was not my girlfriend, long term or anything else, you prat. We were planning to marry! Remember?”  He pushed Conrad’s conciliatory arm aside and gulped his wine.

    “I remember,” said Conrad his voice a symphony of regret. “That was crass of me Ilar. I am sorry. Truly I am. It is just that shag worthy as the blond Englishman is, I don’t trust him.”

    Casually he indicated the large window to their left and the clear view from the beginning of the cobbled street to the theatre entrance it afforded.

    “It was pretty obvious that he was following you. Who you fuck for the night is up to you my dear Ilar. But just be careful with him, is all I am saying. Just because he is a British diplomat does not mean that he is going to be all charm and consideration.”

    “Mind your own damn business,” was all Conrad got for his efforts.

    Their parting did not even include the usual exchange of a kiss on each cheek. Still less did it extend to even the briefest of kisses on the hands.

    “Just make sure the tickets for me and Janus are at the gallery door if you really want to do something useful,” Ilar said a little more calmly as he allowed Conrad to accompany him to the cobbled street.

    “Be careful of him, Ilar,” called Conrad, as he watched his friend and kinsman turn from the cobbled side street.

    It was less than an hour later that Conrad was in hurried confidence telling all of this to their mutual cousin, Matthias Beaumont.

    “You know  Ilar our cousin, as well as I do,” began Conrad from his usual perch at the Penny Farthing theatre bar. “But I have never known him fall so instantaneously for any man or woman as he did for Janus Bellemy. I swear, Ilar was actually simpering at him within seconds. Frankly, I nearly reached for a sick bag and left the pair of them to it.”

    Matthias listened in quiet despair. For now he was not going to tell Conrad of his feelings for Ilar. He would not tell anyone until he had first discussed everything with his beloved twin Zander.

    “Zander flew back to England this morning. Hardly here for 48 hours. But at least he is happy with Leo. Quite sweet really.”

    “Yes it is,” agreed Conrad, anxious to return their conversation back to his concern for their other cousin. Ten minutes later, Matthias had left the  Theatio Penny Farthing. In his pocket he carried a small Italian gun, with the injunction from Conrad to point it at anyone only if he really had to do so.

    Meanwhile, Ilar Robinson was in his bedroom. It was his favourite room in the house. Here, he had created a little space of his own, perhaps as only an only child can. It had changed over the years of course as he had grown up. But even when he eventually gave in to parental wishes and agreed to study for a degree at an English university, it was in this large bedroom with its own bathroom and lavatory,- ‘facilities’ as his English grandmother in Eastampton would refer to them,-  that he found a place in Triesenbourg for the possessions that mattered to him. Family photographs jostled with books, an expanding collection of vinyl records and carefully chosen objects from his two deployments to Afghanistan, one as a British Army Reservist and one as a Royal Triesenbourg Army Volunteer Reservist, were discretely scattered about his room.

    To calm his mounting impatience, Ilar gazed out of the window again. He always liked what he saw. Durazno with its array of houses and buildings seeming to cascade  down from the citadel.  The pastel shades of many buildings lent a vibrancy and colour to the capital he never saw in England. Hardly 20 metres away two cable cars, one going up, the other going down, passed his window.

    He drew a breath and concentrated hard.

    “Oh come on, Harlequin,” he breathed.

    One of the cable cars appeared to stall for a moment and then resumed its journey.

    “You are an impatient fellow,” a voice chided from behind him. Ilar knew who it was immediately. But it still took him by surprise. He turned to see the figure known to all as The Harlequin, in his ample loose fitting black and gold cheque suit and large floppy, wide brimmed hat with a bell that made no sound.

    As Ilar caught his breath, the apparition quivered, one moment clearly in view and then became less clear to see, but never fading entirely from view.

    “You know I have to be in numerous places at once,” continued the Harlequin, “as I am at this very moment: 23 to be exact.”

    “Yes, Harlequin,” came the chastened reply. “My apologies.”

    “Accepted,” the Harlequin, said, his tone noticeably milder.
    “I see you have one of the more flattering paintings of me,” he continued, “and of the Their Majesties the King and Queen; and the excellent Saint Sebastian.” With each observation the figure before Ilar shone brighter. “And all this from a protestant.” At this final observation, the Harlequin shone just a little less brightly and permitted himself the slightest of quivers.
    “The much loved late Queen Consort Sarah was a protestant as well,” offered Ilar gently.

    “Quite so, Ilar. Now, what is it you want of me at such short notice?”

    Ilar gathered himself and his thoughts with care.

    “Tonight I must accompany John Bellemy, the British diplomat to the pre-opening party of the Alhambra Arts Complex..”

    “The English Spy, as the more foolish call him,” said the Harlequin, for a moment almost disappearing from view.

    “Er, yes,” nodded Ilar in surprise.

    “Then, I must, shall we say, entertain him for the night.- For King and country.” Ilar spoke with not the slightest embarrassment, but observed the Harlequin with close attention. “The thing is Harlequin, Mr. Bellemy must not know my true identity. Janus Bellemy knows me as Ilar Berisha.  Tonight, everyone must call me as Ilar Berisha.. Even when they recognise that I am Ilar Robinson. So I want you to…”

    “Cast a spell for you over the entire party at the Alhambra..”

    “Yes please Harlequin. That puts the matter rather well, I think.”

    “Hmm,” sighed the Harlequin, “ One way and another, that is quite some request.”

    In the silence that followed, the apparition that was the Harlequin moved in flickering meditation around the room.
    “This sounds political,” he said eventually. “And as a good Fiorentine you know that I  only intervene in matters of love; in matters of the heart.”

    Ilar, the good Fiorentine, knew this and by way of counter argument had prepared a mental list of times from the foundation of the Kingdom in 1287, when not just his name, but many insisted, the Harlequin’s actions and even his physical presence, had come to the aid of Triesenbourg in its moments of need.

    Before he could speak, the Harlequin said: “Can you give me your word that no harm will come to Janus Bellemy?”
    “Upon my honour as a Kingsman and a member of the Loyal Order of Saint Sebastian, you have my word Harlequin.”

    Very well”, said the Harlequin. “There is, however, something you must do for me; or to be more precise, for your cousin, Matthias Karlo Adnan Sebastian Edwin Beaumont. Matthias loves you,” the Harlequin announced simply. “What you do with that fact I leave to you. But ever since you both arrived in Triesenbourg a couple of days ago I have been receiving very slight but regular vibrations from him.”

    Had Ilar’s ample bed not been directly behind him, he would have landed on the floor as his legs weakened beneath him.

    “I..I..I had no idea Matthias loved me. None. None at all.”
    As Ilar lifted his face from shaking hands, there were tears in his eyes.

    “Your countenance speaks eloquently of your surprise, I see,” the Harlequin said looking towards a small drinks cabinet. “If I were a three dimensional being rather than just an apparition, I could pour a tincture of that excellent Fiorentine brandy for you. You look as though you need one. As it is, I suggest you get one for yourself, Ilar.”

    “But Matthias does not even believe in you. Still less des he support the monarchy. It is his twin, Zander who is the royalist.”

    “Because he does not believe in me, Matthias could not of course see me,- as you can now,- even though I was standing in his bedroom, a short time ago.”
    Ilar sipped the brandy, its warmth restoring his composure at least to some degree as he wiped away his tears. If only he had known this before, he thought to himself. His relationship with Darshina could have been so different and he would not now be estranged from his sister violet. If only he had possessed even an inkling of this before his strange night in the woods with Adam…..

    “Your cousin Matthias is a strange young man indeed,” the Harlequin was saying, as Ilar, finishing the brandy decided reluctantly against another.

    “But Matthias is a Fiorentine and I could not ignore his plea. Believe me, Ilar, he was weeping for you.”

    A few more details were discussed. Then, before Ilar’s vey eyes, the Harlequin simply disappeared. Hurriedly, he poured and gulped another brandy.

    “Oh Dear me,” sighed a familiar voice, as the Harlequin suddenly reappeared,  causing Ilar to almost drop the drained glass in surprise. “I’m becoming forgetful in my old age. But then, I suppose if you were a 730 year old apparition, you might become a little forgetful too, dear boy.”

    “I suppose I might,” agreed Ilar cordially as the brandy calmed him once more.

    “ Quite, quite dear boy. I forgot to add that at some point this evening, I shall be making some small corner available to you and Matthias. You will know when and where when the time comes. It will be up to you to get Matthias there. Treat him considerably, Ilar.”

    “Ever and always,” Ilar assured, as he watched the Harlequin disappear, the bell that never sounded, atop the chequered floppy  wide brimmed hat, last of all.

    The principal gallery and bar of the Alhambra Arts Complex soon to be dedicated to important conferences and cultural events, was this evening simply a party in a kingdom in most ways an admired functioning social democracy; a party for those well connected enough to have been given a ticket.

    The new Ambassador from the USA was thought to be sniffing excesses of socialism as much at the Alhambra Arts Complex as everywhere else in this strange Balkan land. But in truth, Mrs. Leonora L. Chadwick had yet to fully acclimatise  from living all her life hitherto in the dry heat of Wyoming and Arizona, to becoming President Trump’s eyes and ears in Triesenbourg. She did however notice how attentive the man who was in effect the deputy British Ambassador was to the handsome and well connected Fiorentine at his side.

    “The Foreign Minister’s nephew,” confided Mrs Chadwick’s well informed consort, just before they paused to exchange pleasantries. Of her understandable perplexity when her casual enquiry as to the Foreign Minister’s wellbeing was met with looks of calm incredulity from Ilar Berisha, Mrs. Chadwick took care to give no indication whatsoever.

    A close shave thought Ilar, as he allowed Janus Bellemy to draw him into conversation with a group of people, every one of whom knew him to be Gareth Ilar Philip Maximillian Konstandin Sebastian Robinson. Yet not one of them seemed to think it at all odd that Ilar was calling himself Ilar Berisha. The Harlequin’s spell appeared to be working.

    With some difficulty Ilar managed to detach himself from his escort. The Minister of Culture, a family friend and bitter political rival of his uncle for the leadership of the Social Democratic Party, regaled Ilar briefly with what she assured him would be the “Uzdepeg” (Spectacular) plans for the 2020-21 tourism season. But before he could express what would have been genuine interest in such forward planning, he caught sight of his cousin Matthias and with the appropriate exchange of hand kisses and kisses on each cheek made his adieus.

    Amid the noise and general good cheer of the party, the President of The Loyal Order of Saint Sebastian was deploying her serviceable Portuguese to its fullest extent in explaining to a Brazilian professor of Sociology the detailed intricacies of Fiorentine hand kissing.

    “They were just acquaintances really,” she  hoped she was saying as they observed the Minister of Culture and Ilar.  Moments later, as Ilar and Matthias greeted each other  the president was explaining that the hand kisses between the tall  young man and the shorter dark haired younger man at his side indicated a kinship bond important to them both..

    “And one perhaps of amour,” added the observant professor, in English.  

    It was at this juncture that Ilar noticed the Harlequin moving animatedly amongst the party goers. As he did so everyone stopped, silent and caught and still, in whatever movement, explanation or physical action they were engaged in, everyone but Ilar and Matthias  appeared manakin like frozen in time and space.

    “Quickly,” said the Harlequin. Take Matthias along that corridor. There, go into the room with the green door.”

    Matthias was not motionless and manikin like, but his expression was certainly glazed. “You have no more than 60 seconds from now to get into that room, after that Matthias will become his usual self.”
    “And everyone one else, all the people here, what of them,” asked Ilar, his voice somewhere between incredulity and fear.

    The Harlequin quivered and flickered, rather like some light bulb about to finally give out, it seemed to Ilar.

    “Oh I think I can hold spell for about halve an hour,” responded the Harlequin evidently impressed at his own handiwork. “After that everyone will resume their conversations where they left off, as though nothing has happened. “Hurry now you have only 30 seconds left to reach the room with the green door.”

    For valuable seconds Ilar paused wondering about the ethics of this strange interlude; wondering whether in fact it was just a strange dream from which he was about to wake. But then he recalled himself to the deal he had made with the Harlequin and the vital reasons for it.

    Taking Matthias by the arm the two ran down the corridor and into the room with the green door.

    Take less than halve an hour if you possibly can,” Ilar heard the Harlequin call, “I am 730 years old you know and maintaining this spell is quite an effort.”

    “What are doing here?,” asked a perplexed Mathis. He had the feeling of having fallen into a kind of brief sleep and now waking from it. One minute they were chatting and drinking and now they were in this small room. 

    “A good question,” Ilar replied not knowing quite where to begin. Cautiously he placed his arms around Matthias.

    To Be Continued.

  • What Porn Scenes Turn Me ON

    Like most queers I love watching porn, particularly twinks making love.  Their young bodies are so beautiful. I love to see a twink’s mouth stretched sucking a big hard  cock. It turns me on seeing their lovely lips surrounding a gorgeous dick. Also making me hard is looking at tongue licking a pink hole.  Nothing more beautiful than seeing the tip of  a tongue on a pink hole and hearing the moan of the bitch being rimmed.  Seeing a hard cock entering that hole is another turn on. After fucking for a while the bottom’s pussy is wet.  Seeing those ass juices starting flow around the cock is a big turn on.  When the top takes his dick  out it is shiny from that wetness.   Is there anything more beautiful then a shiny gorgeous cock that has been inside a pretty boy’s pussy. Perhaps my favorite scene is when the top drops his load on the beautiful pink hole which he has just fucked.   I will stop the video to savor seeing that lovely dick spraying cum on that beautiful pink hole.  Oh fuck! 

    Let me know what porn turns you on in the comments

    I am Jack and have been watching  porn with my bitch boy, Justin.   I am 33 years old, 6ft tall, and weigh 175.   I have brown hair, a shadow beard, a pearl necklace and bracelet and pearl earring.  Justin is 19, is 5,9 and weighs  155.  His body is shaved and smooth.  He wears several rings and on his long fingers with painted pink nails.  Justin is so pretty.  He is the essence of a pretty boy with his blond hair and beautiful face.  Oh how I love fucking my beautiful young man. He is so sweet and soft. I love his pretty long eyelashes.  I have fucked so many twinks but have fallen in love with Justin.  

    We have been together for  several months now and have a wonderful sex life.   We fuck at least twice day and more on weekends.  I have so many photos of us together and the scenes I described above. I love the selfies of the two us together just wearing our boots or high top sneaks.   We are both hard now from watching the porn and have started kissing. We both have fetish for boots or high top sneaks.  We  are naked except Justin is wearing new pair of high white Converse sneaks.   They look so great on Justin’s smooth body.   I am wearing a pair of high black laced Docs.   I  put them on then Justin laces them up.  While he laces them he makes love to the black leather, licking every fuckin inch of those boots.  I run my hands through Justin’s beautiful blond hair as he does my boots.  When he is done, I take one of his white boots and start to lick it and kiss it.   I love these pretty white boots.  I take the toe of the boot and suck it.  

    “Do my pretty white boots, Daddy.  They look so good in your mouth.”

    Justin starts to fuck my mouth with his white boot. 

    Precum starts ooze out of my dick.

    “Hey cocksucker, do my dick now and enjoy my precum”

    Justin eagerly takes my 6and ½ inches in his mouth.  He sucks it and then kisses me so I can taste my precum.  I savor the taste on my lips.  Justin is great cocksucker and works my cock for what seems like an hour.   I grab his head and start to fuck his face.   My cock looks so good inside that beautiful mouth and face.   I stop and kiss Justin again.  I can taste my dick on his lips.  Oh fuck, this is so hot. 

    “I want your pretty ass now”

    Justin gets on his hands and knees and I go down on that beautiful ass that I worship.  I work it with my hands, slap it and then make love to it with my mouth and tongue.  Justin is moaning as I do his hot ass.  It is so hot, aching to be fucked by his Daddy. His hole is wet from his juices that are starting flow from his pussy.  I can’t wait to rim his beautiful pink hole that I love so much.  

    “Do my hole, Boss.  Oh yeah do my hole.  It feels so good.  Oh Fuck.”

    I flick my tongue on his hole for a few minutes then I enter his hole with my tongue and fuck his hole with my tongue.

    “Oh yeah.  Fuck my hole with your hot tongue.”

    I enter his hole with my fingers now and go deeper inside Justin.   I work his wet pussy with my fingers.  I take them out and then stick them in Justin’s mouth.

    “Taste your beautiful ass, bitch”

    I lick my fingers to enjoy the taste of my bitch’s ass.  It tastes so fuckin good.  I can never get enough of the taste of Justin’s ass. 

    My cock is aching now and I have start fucking Justin.  I mount him with my boots on and start to pound his ass. 

    “Reach for the top of my boots, bitch and hold on tight to the leather. We are going to rock for hours.”

    I reach down and feel his white boots and hold them as I go deeper inside Justin.  Justin in his  pretty white boots is my woman now taking all of me. 

    “I love my beautiful bitch so much”

    “I love you, Daddy.  Don’t every stop fucking me.”

    After fucking Justin for what seems like an hour, I pull out my cock and come on his pink hole.  OHHHHHHHHH Oh fuck, my cum looks so good there resting on his hole and hot ass.  I have to take a pic of my cock, my cum resting on Justin’s pretty pink hole and his hot ass. 

    We lay there for a quite a while as  I embrace my pretty bitch and hold him close to me.

    I take Justin’s white boots and start to kiss them. 

    “I love your high white Chucks.  Seeing you in them makes me hard, pretty boy”

    “Your high black Docs do the same for me, Daddy. I love feeling that black leather.”

    “I want to lick your white boots again.”

    I take his white boot and start to lick and kiss it again. I suck on the toe,

    “I want to feel the toe of your boot on my hole, bitch.”

    I get on my back and Justin puts the toe of his white boot on my hole.

    “Yeah, do my hole with your lovely white boots. Oh fuck”

    After working my  hole, I take the boot and suck the toe again enjoying the taste of my hole.  I then stick it in Justin’s mouth.

    “Suck it, bitch.   Taste my ass on your pretty boot.”

    Justin is on his back now sucking the toe of his white boot.  Seeing this makes me so hard again and I start to fuck Justin again.

    “Oh yeah, suck your pretty boot, bitch, while I fuck you.

    Sucking his white boot and feeling my cock deep inside, Justin shoots a huge load that hits my face and chest while I come deep inside Justin.  OHHHH FUCKKKKKKK

    “You’re pretty white boots gave us so much pleasure.  Let’s kiss them to show our love for them..

    I take off one of his boots and we both lick and kiss it and then we kiss each other.

    “We love our fuckin boots, don’t we bitch?”

    “We also love our cocks, our hungry holes and our hot fuckin asses”

    “Yeah, bitch, I can never get enough of your  pretty pink hole, your hot ass and the juices that flow from that beautiful ass..

  • Ask and I’ll give you

    De Profundis

    That night I had to check whether Braxton would really go with me as far as I took him and in between the sheets, I really wanted to fuck that perfection my brother has for an ass.

    We had first a long foreplay which lasted several minutes and his kisses to me in that moment should have made me know what he was feeling. It was something deeper than strong desire and lust.

    I finally told him that I would try, as I had promised him and he smiled and just turned.

    -Come on, Reggie, be brave, I really wanna be fucked.

    And in that moment, I attacked. I don’t know what I should have expected, but surely I wasn’t looking forward to real yells of happiness and fun. I wasn’t ready to see so much pleasure in my heterosexual brother’s eyes but in that moment, I felt he was not heterosexual and also felt now we would fuck each other daily.

    -Go on, Reggie -he begged me-, this is what I had been unconsciously waiting for my whole life. I’m feeling it de profundis, but sorry, maybe you don’t know what it means.

    -I know, Braxton, de profundis means from deep inside. But what do you mean with that phrase?

    -I mean that your cock is deep inside my ass now, but also your heart, forgive me brother, is getting deep inside my heart, de profundis.

    -You mean love?

    -I really mean it, Reggie.

    I saw him burst out crying just then but even so he only told me.

    -Don’t stop fucking me now, Reggie, please.

    -Just let me look into myself for a while, Braxton for I find it very likely that I’m also regarding you de profundis now. Not every day you find a brother magician and you’d done magic today.

    -And magic is what I would need now, I’d love meeting Reggie, the other Fairy Godbrother, well meet him I already have, I mean what I would need is having him here by my side doing magic every day.

    -Then Reggie the Magician will make his magic wand work for the first time inside your cool ass. Here you are, Braxton. I also love you.

    -My God, you also love me, Reggie?

    -Deeply, Braxton. You know I’ve always lusted for you, have spied you, have wanked over you and today you’ve been a Fairy Godbrother, a magician, a sorcerer, a wizard, who has really made me know his magic wand. But I also have one for your needs now. Of course I could never expect that you could like sex with a boy, let alone with your own brother, but since it is like this, I’ll have to become Reggie, the magician for you. So this is my magic wand -I told him pointing at my cock.

    -Good, and since after now your magic wand is mine too, I’ll eat it again.

    And he started a new blowjob, but of course I wouldn’t let him be the only one who sucked. I loved him just as deeply and my brother was surely expecting to see my love for him, so I also swallowed his wand and there we were both brother magicians, who instead of playing tricks with cards, or taking out rabbits from a hat, we were determined to spend our lives wagging our magic wands.

    But not only our cocks produced magic now, also our asses and as it was now, our tongues. So in love we were that we filled each other’s mouths soon.

    Now we decided to sleep, as it would always be after now, together as a couple. What had started today with a Fairy Godbrother in the midst of a magic fairy tale, had ended in the same circus and after now all I want is to be caught by Braxton.

  • Tape or Ball gag?

    Middle aged inexperienced bitch here. I’ve always dreamed of being taken, kidnapped, assaulted and forced to be a cum slut for a strong, hairy man. I guess it’s because I have always had a passion for being with another guy, but I’m too much of a pussy to actually follow my dreams and do it. I need a pretty good push. Like a dom/sub situation. Being discovered somehow, caught in girl’s panties or cornered in a sketchy bar. If someone would look me in the eyes and roughly order me to drop and suck, I would. Otherwise, I’m just another pussy want-to-be.

    Being dominated has always been my dream. I use different long, fat bumpy dongs with big purple veins to practice my cock sucking and throating skills. Dreaming that a dom man is ordering me to suck harder, and take it deeper. Being tied or bound somehow while I’m sucking his big cock adds to the excitement. A butt plug or vibrator in my ass makes me feel even more helpless and used. I like it! 

    Sometime I’ll put on some leather straps or a harness to raise the bar. Being a chained up or strapped down submissive, helpless, and only useful for being a fuck object makes me really hard and horny. 

    I started wearing girls underwear. The thought of a man catching me playing like that and taking advantage of my situation is very erotic to me. That’s why I put the tight lace and silky stuff on. It would make me so vulnerable and helpless if caught. Mmmmm…

    Well, back to my title. Being bound is one thing. But when you are gagged and can’t speak, cry for help, say ‘no’, or ‘help me!’ is another level. Maybe it’s my oral fixation? I’ve sucked so many rubber cocks, and a few real ones. But I’ve never been with a guy or a gal who would dominate me. I’m missing that part of my life so much. 

    Tape gags. Wide sticky rubber tape. Oh, yes! I buy Gorilla tape, or that black FlexSeal Flex tape. It’s the best. It stretches a little and pulls tight against my cheeks and lips. I’m completely silenced and helpless. I just love the way it manipulates my mouth where I can’t mumble a thing. After I suck and throat a big dildo till I’m crying, I’ll gag myself and have a wonderful jerk off. A big wiggling rubber cock in my ass helps a bit too. LOL

    Ball gags. By far the most iconic and naughty of the gags. The first ones I bought were just hard plastic balls. Not much fun. I found some that were big soft foam balls that filled up my mouth and looked amazing strapped tightly in. I kept finding bigger and bigger ones. With he strap wrapped around your head and ball stuffed so well in your mouth, you can’t say no. You just have to go with the flow.     : )

    A guy took me up on my offer to help me find the best fit for me. He gaged me both ways and fucked the shit out of me. He recorded the acts. The sound was very loud. I was moaning and trying to scream and blowing snot out of my nose with every hard, pounding thrust as he spread me wide, bottoming out in my sore, tight little ass hole. 

    Just the audio was amazing. I’d like to meet with him again, but I think he was just one timing me. 

    So, tape or ball? 

    Bill

  • Inmates Get Orgy Sentence

    For many years, the warden at the all-male Brockville Jail has turned a blind eye to just about everything. Result: the prison is understaffed and overcrowded; the 78 inmates lack personal space and many are into sexual bullying; cells are too small, poorly ventilated, and have inadequate lighting; facilities like toilets, showers and sinks are often broken. A new warden has recently been appointed and has started to make changes, mainly to living conditions. A psychologist has been hired to deal with the sexual bullying.

    Brockville is situated in Canada, between Ottawa (nation’s capital) and Toronto (capital of Ontario). The city was established in 1832 by Loyalist settlers and is named after the British general Sir Isaac Brock. The population has reached 22,000. The community has a substantial industrial base, and is recognized as a hub for transportation, warehousing and logistics companies.  

    The majority of prisoners are serving a sentence of four to five years for crimes that include robbery, extortion, child pornography, firearm or drug trafficking. Many have had fines for impaired driving. The cost to maintain a prisoner in jail averages $345 dollars per day. There are 39 cells at the Brockville Jail and all of them are occupied by two inmates aged between 20 and 40, thus in the peak of their libido.

    The psychologist is Llyod, 34, a hot leather stud nicknamed Demon in the BDSM bars. He has a very simple theory on sexual bullying in prisons. It basically boils down to: “the bigger the cock, the bigger the need to fuck; the bigger the ass, the bigger the need to get pounded”. When he meets each inmate, Lloyd is wearing leather harness, jockstrap and knee-high boots. He is built like a stallion; his ass and his cock would make a eunuch hard. Meetings are supervised by a guard complicit in Lloyd’s sexual fantasies. Each inmate is ordered to get naked and to let the psychologist take measurements of cock and ass.

    Whether dominant (Top) or submissive (Bottom), each prisoner gets excited. Lloyd has no problem sucking them to get the full length and girth of their hard dick. Some try to resist when the psychologist measures and slaps the width of their ass, but guards keep them in a position where Lloyd can sniff and lick their crack before starting to dart his tongue on the rosebud. The fierce resistance immediately gives way to intensive moans of virile pleasure; rimming enables the psychologist to get a precise idea of the fuck hole dimension.

    Based on the size of the dicks and arses, the warden reassigns the places in the 39 cells. As you might expect, there are more Tops than Bottoms. The two most satisfied prisoners are Brad and Frank; the first has a cock measuring 22 cm, the second has the biggest peachy butt a Top can dream of. Fucking is on the menu every night, and often guards stop by to encourage the two inmates; some jerk off while yelling: “Shove your rod deep inside, Brad, rip Frank’s awesome fuck hole like your life depended on it.”

    Next door, Jeremy and Terrence are predominantly Tops, but since they are constantly horny, the two inmates switch to Versatile. Jake discovers that Terry’s jizz has a spicy flavor. Swallowing a creamy load is the best mushroom soup he has ever tasted. When Terry fucks Jake in the ass and explodes, he positions himself to felch his own creamy load, not forgetting to share it by French-kissing his handsome mate. At breakfast, they don’t hesitate to jerk off in order to add cream to their partner’s cup of coffee.

    Lionel is a 100% submissive guard sporting a rather firm ass which is very hairy. This excites Maurice and Melvin who are unconditional Tops. Good understanding reigns in their cell only because Lionel agrees to visit them two evenings out of three. The warden obviously turns a blind eye, whish Lionel interprets as a seal of approval. He loves to get his butt spanked, bitten and pounded roughly. Maurice and Melvin know how to give him a royal treatment: double penetration. As tight as it may be, Lionel’s fuck hole can stretch to accommodate a cut and an uncut piece of meat. Ropes of cum junk flooding his beastly trunk propel him on cloud nine.

    Sexual bullying in the Brockville Jail has decreased tenfold. In addition, some inmates declare themselves openly gay, unheard of in Canadian prisons. At the annual meeting of federal and provincial wardens, Brockville Jail receives a certificate of sound management, accompanied by a trophy which curiously has a phallic shape. During Gay Pride Week, the warden invites the psychologist to a party in the well-guarded prison yard. Rainbow flags flutter in the wind and prisoners don clothing of their choice; many opt for a jockstrap, working boots and a red handkerchief around the neck. Turning a blind eye to unusual events is the warden’s speciality. Guards and inmates therefore do not hesitate to engage in an orgy where asses get fully satisfied and cocks ejaculate in torrents of man juice.

    The warden watches with envy but does not dare to join the gang fucking; he has a reputation to maintain in the public places of the jail. It’s another story behind closed doors; he summons Brad to fuck him as often as he wants, promising to reduce his time behind bars. Brad adores hearing the boss begging for a deeper pounding: “Shove your fucking rod in my shit hole! Flood my trunk with your damn creamy junk!” The roles are reversed and that excites Brad. He’s the one calling the shots on a weekly basis. His shaft is like a guard’s baton. “You sure seem to like the treatment of my joystick; for you, I call it a bullystick.” The psychologist is obviously not aware of this bullying relationship. He would have to edit his theory, adding Dominant-Submissive arguments to not only justify but highlight gay sex in prisons.

  • Carlossutra

    Carlos Pena woke up in his luxurious Four Seasons hotel suite. He looked groggy and confused at the gilded stucco elements on the ceiling and tried to sit up in bed. The silk sheets slipped to the side, but his body barely seemed to move. His limbs and even his jaw ached and he felt enormous pressure in his bladder. With all his effort he made it to the bathroom, having to hold on to armchairs and door frames on the way there to keep from tipping over. As soon as he sat on the white porcelain, a gush of white-brown slime shot out of his ass with such force that some of it splashed back onto his brown buttocks.

    “Shit,” Pena swore as he wiped his ass with wet wipes, “What is that?” He could barely remember anything from last night. The only thing he knew was that he had to get another sleep to get rid of the supposed hangover. On the way to bed he saw a note stuck to his cell phone: “Read the news!”

    Using facial recognition, he opened the screen and pressed a video message that he believed was from Sara Petric, who he remembered very well.

    He was speechless as he watched the video, which lasted about 90 seconds and was made up of small clips and photos. When it was finished, he pressed play again, and again a third time, until the message sunk into his dazed brain.

    The video started with a familiar statement like a kidnapping blackmail video: “We know that you call yourself the Sperminator and have a nice collection of photos in which you humiliate and photograph your female conquests with a facial. However, now the spermiantor has been sperminated!” Close-ups followed of Carlos Pena sucking cocks, judging by the color and size of the cocks there had to be at least three different ones, which marked and covered his youthful face with their cream. He saw a clip of him spitroasted, stuffed with cocks from two sides and seemingly moaning with pleasure. He saw a clenched fist, as thick as a melon, shoved into his ass canal, shot from the angle of the camera to show his glassy, ​​wide eyes and drooling mouth. Finally, the final photos showed him lying naked on the floor of his hotel room with multiple jets of piss spraying from all directions onto his shiny golden body.

    He stared in disgust at the idle screen in his right hand for several minutes. He couldn’t or didn’t want to understand that this had actually happened and believed it was a prank. But when his eyes wandered to the carpet in the living area and he saw the dark wet stain there, he realized that it wasn’t fake. Only now did he realize that he was unconsciously playing with his asshole with two fingers of his left hand and that his cock was already hard. He wanted to stop, but couldn’t control his fingers, which penetrated him slowly and steadily until he fucked himself wildly with his own hand and in just under a minute had an orgasm so violent that his screaming could be heard throughout the whole floor of the Hotel.

    Only when his pulse had calmed down a bit did he realize that it was already late afternoon. Carlos Pena took off his sweaty T-shirt and carelessly threw it in the corner of the room. His walk to the bathroom was now a little safer and he jumped into the shower. He scrubbed his body as if it would remove all the evil and shame from last night. After almost 25 minutes, he stood in front of the mirror, dried off, brushed his teeth just as thoroughly and pondered whether he should shave the shadow of his beard. However, since this gave him somewhat more masculine features, he decided to leave it alone.

    Freshly perfumed, he put on a pair of limited edition Diesel jeans that cost over $500 and a white silk shirt that he left the top four buttons undone. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand through his short, dark hair. “You’re a desirable devil!” he murmured and left the suite to ask for a taxi on the street.

    It was now 7:56 p.m. and he felt an enormous appetite. He knew of a good seafood restaurant not far from one of the cool nightclubs in Vallecas where hundreds of hot girls hung out. He took a taxi for a large part of the route, but felt that the jerky ride through the winding streets was not good for him, which is why he asked the taxi driver to let him out a little earlier so that he could take the last few steps in the fresh air.

    In front of him, a young woman strode across the street in her high heels. Her perfume hung in the air and tickled his nose. Without thinking, he followed her down the street as if in a trance, filled with her scent and the sound of her footsteps. When he awoke from the trance a short time later, the woman in front of him had disappeared and instead he was pursuing a strong, dark-skinned man, apparently in his mid-40s, whose smell of fish and sweat hung in the air like the woman’s perfume before. Wearing only a white tank top and ripped jeans, the man’s arms were almost completely covered in tattoos and thick silver bracelets adorned his wrist.

    The man had noticed Pena and initially thought that someone was trying to attack him, but when he saw the man in his stylish designer clothes, his concern gave way to a sneaky inspiration. As he turned the corner into a dark alley at the edge of the fish market, he hid in a doorway where he waited for the young actor. As he passed the hiding place, Miguel, the strong fish seller, reached out and pressed the younger body to his chest.

    “What are you doing here, boy!” hissed Miguel. “You must have gotten lost in your fine designer clothes!”

    “I, I…!” Pena stammered, “please don’t hurt me, I can give you money! I don’t know how I got here…”

    Before he could finish, Miguel pressed his rough hand over his mouth. “Hush, hush, you know exactly why you’re here. Little boys like you are looking for a daddy. They want a daddy who will show them how to be a man, who will punish them if necessary when they have been naughty, and who will be the real man they will never be!”

    Miguel took away his hand and came closer so his lips tenderly touched Pena’s. The actor could feel his warm breath through both his mouth and nose. Unvoluntarily Pena raised his arm and caressed the strong man’s back, first at the collar of the tanktop, then his hands slid underneath worshipping the strong muscles. The feel of his captor’s sweaty and hairy back took his breath away, and he slightly opened his mouth just to feel a large tongue press through his parted lips. He tasted a strong mixture of fish, alcohol and tabacco but he didn’t care! He opened his mouth even more and let the stranger’s tongue in as his hand wrapped around the back of his new daddys head to secure the intense kiss.

    Suddenly he had a whole new bunch of really rather revolting images of this dirty unwashed mouth, thinking of all the odors coming from this man. As his tongue explored Miguel’s mouth he realized, that even his teeth, as if they hadn’t been brushed in a week, had a strong and abiding aroma of ripe fish. The strange and somehow disgusting aroma was making Pena light headed. Over all the stench of fish Pena could catalogue the aroma unwashed tobacco clothes, fetid sweaty body and dirty feet coming from the heavy workboots, Miguel wore. Pena suddenly found his mind wondering, if his penis and scrotum would smell even worse, fish and cheese and whatever. He somehow wondered whether he was going to pass out of the vapours right where he stood in the dark corner near the fishmarket, still busy, hearing lots of voices so near.

    Pena knelt down in the alley, soaking his jeans in the gutter and he watched the muscle god in awe. He saw the sweat bead up on Miguel and drip down onto his own kneeling body. He wanted to taste it, so badly. Then he got his wish. Miguel pulled him up again at his neck and pushed his sweaty armpit into his mouth.

    “LICK IT CUNT” Miguel ordered.

    Pena couldn’t get enough of it. He made sounds like a starving boy, finally getting some delicious food.

    “I knew it once I saw you following me, you fags are all the same. Look at the things you starve for…” Miguel pulled away his pit and Pena begged.

    “Please daddy. MORE. MORE. Please.” Pena should have been thinking how humiliating this was. Instead, all he was thinking was this man’s pits and cock.

    After a few minutes of licking Miguel’s armpits, pecs and bicebs the man got tired of his slut. He was ready for something more interesting, gripping Pena’s pants at the back and ripping them open as if they were made of thin paper.

    „Not wearing anything underneath, I like my sluts to be prpared!“ he grumbled and Carlos Pena realized he had forgotten his boxers. Then without any further foreplay he got it. Spreading his asscheeks open with his rough hands, Pena’s ass was now an easy target for Miguel’s dirty, long, thick, enraged cock.

    “I’m going in raw, bitch. Your hole looks so sloppy, I don’t think we need any lube!” Pena’s ass was still sore from the evening before, and when Miguel pressed both his thumbs into his cheeks for leverage, he winced.

    “Please Sir, take your bitch! Fuck me raw, Breed me, take me dirty in this dark alley, make me know, that you are superiour!” pleaded Pena as the thick cock slid in to the hilt. That evoked a loud yowl from him as Miguel continued to piledrive his ass. He pushed faster and harder from minute to minute, and came inside the young actor as he never had come before. He now OWNED this slut’s ass, and they both knew it.

    “You’re gonna get so much cock tonight, Big Time Rush-slut!” Miguel screamed with his last spurt of cum. He rocked his hips further and twisted his fat tool around inside of Pena’s flooded ass. Miguel by now had Pena pinned face-down to the dirty stones of the alley.

    As if he had arranged a little party a group of men had gathered just around them attracted by the screams and moans of Pena.

    The first one, a burly fisherman with lots of curly dark hair covering his whole body screwed him fast and hard for a few minutes before he pulled out and stuffed Pena’s gaping mouth with his dick, flooding his throat with six to seven heavy spurts of thick cream.

    Pena could feel another throbbing fuck-stick brush against his backside.

    “Tell me what you are, Nickleodeon.” a stranger’s voice ordered.

    “I’m a cum-hungry faggot slut, sir. My only living-purpose is to suck and slurp on cocks and give them my worthless fag body, sir!”

    “That’s right. You like sucking spunk out of a hard man’s dick and taking them up your ass? Getting bred like a bitch?”

    “Yes, sir.”

    “You also like to get peed on?”

    Pena hesitated and was revarded with a strong push of the thick cock.

    “Yes, sir.” he mumbled around another new cock in his mouth which already was shooting jizz down his throat and covering his face and hair while pulling out.

    “Good pig. Wanna be my boyfriend? I count on you!” The stranger quoted songs of BTR. He grabbed Pena by the hair and places him in the middle of the alley pushed on his shoulders, and Pena obediently dropped to his knees.. “Now let’s have some real fun with you.”

    “Ok, fellas,” the stranger addressed Miguel and the crowd consisting of a dozen men, black and white, tall and small, old and young but all having a large bulge in their pants. “I know, you all want to have a piece of that nice actor’s ass. But what this faggot really loves is drinking cum and piss. If we want to keep him going for the whole night, we feed the slut before we breed it.”

    It didn’t take long before Pena felt a hot stream of piss hit his chest soaking his white silk shirt. A second was aimed at his face and he obediently opened his mouth, which at once became the target for a third stream. Pena had problems swallowing so the piss was running down the sides of his mouth, dripping onto his chest. Then he opened up more and swallowed repeatedly breathing through his nose and took as much as he could. Someone else started to pee on his back and down his asscrack washing out some of Miguel’s cum.

    After a few minutes of hosing him down, hard dicks started to poke Pena’s face and lips, and he got back to sucking. The first one he took down his throat was not thick but at least 12” long; Pena himself was a little surprised he could take the whole thing right away.

    “Fuck, he’s a natural,” the guy grunted.

    “Yeah, he’s a talented little cocksucker,” Miguel laughed. “Don’t be afraid to skull-fuck him – the bitch really loves it.”

    The guy drove in with all force and Pena thaught his lungs would be ripped out. Then he came, feeding him his nectar, slapping his face with the slimy anaconda and smearing spunk on his cheeks, lips and eyebrows.

    „That’s a good make up for you!“ the stranger triumphed and made room for others.

    Pena couldn’t keep track of the cocks surrounding him. A few guys just hosed him down again as two others fought for space in his split open mouth, while he himself groped around desperatly to stroke any pole he could reach. They taunted and humiliated him, calling him fag, slut, bitch, pig, whore and many other things. He somehow fucking loved it being disgraced and still being the center of attention, sitting in the mud of the street, worshippimg some heros. He was not a celebrity any more, he now was a man from the street, a slut for stiff manhood and hot semen, a cumdump.

    He spat out the two dicks he was suckling to beg: “Anyone, please fuck me. Please breed my slutty hole…”

    Pena was pushed onto his back, and rough hands shoved his legs up against his chest where he himself held them in place sticking out his hole. A cock thick as a baseball bat slid into his pussy.

    „This is what I call a talented cunt,” the fucker said as he plunged in and out of Pena’s new twat.

    “Let’s double the fun, Rico” Miguel was back in the game and Pena felt him pee on his ass while it was worked over by a big fat dick. Once Miguel finished peeing, he crouched down and slipped a few fingers into Pena’s hole next to Rico’s plunging cock. “That’s what you want, boy, want to have all the cock in the world in your cunt! Want real spanish men to dominate you!”

    Pena was gripped by the armpits and as Miguel lay down on his back they let his ass sink down on Miguel’s thick cock. Rico pushed Pena back until he was flat on Miguel’s chest, hooked Pena’s legs over his shoulders and re-entered him. Carlos Pena was in bliss being double-penetrated and couldn’t believe it. From somewhere far beyond his mind he received another mouthful of piss and only missed a few drops, which dribbled out onto his chest.

    “Fucking faggot. Still hungry? Who wants to feed him some more cum?” Miguel sreamed.

    Ropes of hot spunk hit Carlos Pena’s outstretched tongue seconds later. “I’m gonna bust, too.” someone shouted and the actor-slut swallowed and opened his mouth again. More jizz was sprayed onto his face and he hungrily licked up all that he could.

    Rico double-dicking Carlos Pena with Miguel suddenly blew his wad up his ass.

    “That’s fuckin’ nice,” Miguel moaned as his stiff meat slipped around in the fresh load of his friend Rico. Miguel shot his load seconds later and also pulled out. Pena was flipped onto all fours his hole gaping wide and sloppy. Only a moment passed before another fat dick was pushed inside of him, and three or four others assembled around his head.

    “Yeah, take all those dirty spanish fuckin’ cocks, bitch.” the top said as he drilled into Pena’s greasy asshole.

    “Goddamn disgusting pig”

    “Cum-whore”

    “Crazy faggot cum-dump”

    The voices humiliating him sounded like an angel’s choir to Pena as someone gripped his chin and spit on his face, just in time so someone could jam his stiff dick between the broken actor’s lips.

    This treatment continued for some time, a series of hard cocks lined up to fuck Pena doggy-style draining their nuts in his hole just to use his mouth like a whore’s pussy to clean their cocks from his assslime. He felt them pulse between his lips as he was fed their delicious man-cream; at one point, three of them flooded his stretched mouth with seed at the same time. Streams of hot piss splattered against his face, back and dick-filled ass soaking his shredded jeans hand expensive shirt that clung heavily to his skin.

    They carried him over to one of the metal display shelves for selling fish to double-penetrate him again. In the same position as before he was raped by two hard cocks and babbling incoherent words.

    “Look at that thing fucking gape.” someone said. „Stuffed with two cocks and there is still room for more!“ Saying this he fetched a large gilthead of about one foot in length and stuck it into Pena’s twat next to the penetrating cocks.

    In the hour all this was going on there were more guys than Pena had expected, probably fifteen or twenty, though the number fluctuated as some left and others arrived. As they all left at some point he was lying in the gutter filled with the melting ice-water and blood from gutting fish of the fishmarket, his expensive clothes shredded to rags and drenched in cum and piss. His belly was full of jizz and piss from both ends and his wallet was emptied as they had taken his money and his Rolex. At least they had left him his papers but not his pride, that was lost a few hours ago. Thinking of how his life had changed in the last day from being a top celebrity and how he was broken to be a bottom cumslut he smiled and took the fish in his ass at its caudal fin and began to move it back and forth like a dildo moaning for more, but he was alone.

    ———

    Carlos Blanco was 34 years old. With 6′ and 264 lbs he was proud on his bodybuilding career. Although he always pretended to be straight he couldn’t help from watching all those sweaty male bodies in the locker rooms and get slightly aroused. He was super stressed out by his daily life and duties, and wanted to escape. He always had a thing for muscular jocks but denied it. That’s until the day he met Diego, or let’s say, until the day Diego discovered him.

    He was just finishing his workout, lifting nearly double of his own weight as a hand from behind grabbed his asscheeks and squeezed them hard.

    „Nice!“ the stranger whispered. „Would like to have a taste of them!“

    Carlos Blanco was taken aback by this directness. He slowly turned around and looked into the emerald green eyes of the tall man with deep tanned skin. This stranger was equal in stature to him, but he radiated such enormous masculinity that Carlos Blanco wanted to lie in his arms like a bride being carried across the threshold. The stranger stroked his dark hair and, in the middle of the crowded gym, grabbed his opponent’s buttocks again and pulled him closer to his body.

    “Hi, I’m Diego!” he introduced himself. “You can call me sir, muscle bitch!”

    Carlos should have felt degraded by these words and should have pushed Diego away, but his well-kept secret, which not even he was aware of yet, made the blood boil in his veins and his cock became hard within seconds.

    Diego pressed his lips to those of the bodybuilder, who returned the kiss in amazement. He slowly pushed Carlos Blanco towards the shower room while he continuously played with his tongue in the muscle man’s mouth. Once there, he blocked the door from the inside so that they wouldn’t be disturbed. At first he wanted Carlos for himself, without exception. The times when men would line up for his willing body would come soon enough.

    „Now flex your arms for me!“ Diego ordered as they were standing in the tiled room alone. Blanco flexed hard and showed off his body.

    “You always wanted to do this!“ Diego hissed. „You like sharing your body and muscles for people…flexing your muscles for others is your pleasure. You want them to get hard seeing you. But you want more, slave! Isn*t it so?”

    Blanco froze for an instant and lowered his arms.

    “I did not tell you to stop. Get your right bicep up right now…” instructed Diego. Carlos Blanco followed the order.

    He was willing to do anything right now for his master. He had a very appreciative audience in Diego and wanted nothing more than to please him.

    “Now feel your right peak with your left hand for me bitch. Feels so hard doesn’t it…like my hard cock that’s going to be your god soon!” whispered Diego as he watched Blanco grab and feel his right flexed bicep. Blanco posed even harder and looked intently at his own flexed bicep and then back to the huge bulge and spot of precum that he knew his body had caused in Diego’s shorts. This cock had to be a monster already and was still growing as Diego watched his new slave break so easy.

    „On your knees!“ Diego ordered and while Carlos Blanco knelt down on the wet tiles he fetched out his enlarged cock, glistening with precum. Blanco’s eyes were instantly transfixed to the 13 inches that were now coming closer and closer.

    Diego walked over to the kneeling musclestud and rubbed his surging cock across Blanco’s rippled biceps as if to mark his territory. Then he smeafred his precum on the other biceps and the forehead of his new conquest. He used his cock like a paintbrush on Blanco’s pecs and nose until he finally lightly tipped it to his lips.

    Carlos Blanco the new musclebitch whimpered a quiet, ” Fuck yeah….” as a large drop of precum was left on his upper lip, the smell of it filling his nostrils. He wanted more. On his entire chest and body or even finally sucking Diego off and taking his musclejuice load down his throat. For sure he had never sucked a cock before, he did not even know how to suck, especially such a large one. Until now all the girls he had been with always wanted to touch him and suck him off. He had enjoyed those talented warm wet mouths engulfing his cock and sucking him off. He tried to remember the way they took down his cock, wich was small compared to Diego’s weapon.

    Diego glistening with sweat from his own workout before ripped off his white tank top and watched Blaco inhale. The kneeling bodybuilder even smiled when he saw the dense hair covering Diego’s body as he himself always had shave his body for competitions. That hair was so sexy and manly. Diego’s black curly fur intrigued him as it was something he did not have and yet this man’s vascularity was damn impressive to him.

    “Get ready MuscleSlut, I want you to become a professional cucksucker. We are having our soiree here for ourselves and if you behave, I can open up the door later and let in everyone else from the gym. Are you going to follow my commands slut?” Diego asked but knew the answer as only a hoarse „Yes, Sir!“ escaped Blanco’s trembling lips.

    Diego now himself straightened his body and said, “Here we go…grab my cock bitch, feel the strength coming from it, yeah…great… ohhhh…that feels so good… you’ll become a good cocksucker, I knew it once I saw you observe the other men out there… not watching their faces or torsos but their bulges in their pants… so obvious…my cock… hard as steel…feels good to you doesn’t it?”

    Blanco couldn’t answer as he was hypnotized and becoming in love with this cock as he gripped it tight and squeezed. Diego pressed his huge foot-long cock closer to Blanco’s head and grabbed his dark blond hair, forcing the first four inches into his conquest’s mouth and choking him instantly. Blanco thought he would die while he, the one who had made women worship his muscles and prick, now himself was in a position of helplessness, servicing another man’s giant cock with his lips, mouth and throat and loving it.

    “Careful, bitch! No teeth! Use your lips to cover them!” Diego growled while Blanco’s cock-transfixed mind and body were forced to obey. The musclebitch thaught of all the female sluts who had sucked his cock and how they gagged and coughed as he would skullfuck them. „Do you want the whole thing?“ Diego asked.

    Diego didn’t wait long for his bitches response and rammed more and more cock down Blanco’s unexperienced throat, watching tears stream down the stud’s face as he struggled to take it. However despite the pain in his throat the bodybuilder mindlessly began to suck and slurp.

    “Look how much you like it, bitch!” Diego said and withdrew his cock suddenly, making Blanco splutter for an instant and gasp for air before the monster was thrust back down his once virgin gullet. The bodybuilder was throatfucked on his knees, his mouth used like a pussy as Diego held on to his head and pistoned away with his hips. Gurgles and grunts from helpless Carlos filled the room as the foot long dick scraped his tonsils and plunged into his contracting throat. His rippled abs contracted every time he tried in vain to retch when his sore throat was forced to take the horsecock again and again. After a short while he was choking on the copious creamy load that Diego had brewed up in his giant sweaty balls. For the first time in his life he, Carlos Blanco professional bodybuilder, was a pathetic sweaty mess as he was fucked in the face and forced to taste salty, bitter cum from this giant cock as it spewed down his throat before it was pulled out and continued to cover his face.

    “Lick it up, bitch, clean up your mess!” taunted Diego and Blanco strted slurping up whatever his tongue could reach.

    The skullfucking continued for over 30 minutes and in that time Carlos Blanco was turned into an expert cocksucker. As Diego stopped stuffing his manhood down the bodybuilder’s throat he was so out of it you could have probably forced a fist and elbow down his throat. Cum coated his face, hair and chest and streaked his chin. Diego’s numerous loads of cum puddled in his stomach and reeked through his nostrils.

    “Please oohhh mooooorrreee” he slobbered as he felt Diego stop, even more cum drooling from his chin.

    “If you want more, worship my body! Come here and kiss my right bicep slut…” Diego barked and flexed his arms.

    “Come here and now lick all this mountain of muscle for me, get it harder bitch.” Diego was loving the control and the response of his new slave.

    “Do me, come on, these big godly arms are for you muscleslut…Kiss my biceps good…both of them. Lick them all over and let them shine in the light!“

    Then Carlos Blanco smelled something different. It was very musky and he felt the heat on his face. It was Diego’s armpit. Carlos’ head was pushed in the stinking pit and he locked his head in there. As with the rest of his master’s body, the smell was overpowering Carlos. Diego didn’t need to wait to tell the muscleslut what to do. He started furiously liking his armpit clean with his tongue so his face was instantly drenched with his master’s sweat.

    “That’s it atta boy, take in the smell of a real men. Lick my pit clean.” Carlos licked the armpit with even more eagerness the damp hair scratching his nose. The taste was salty but somehow refreshing.

    “Now the other.” Diego removed his armpit only to replace it by the other. Again, Carlos inhaled deeply and started to clean it too.

    Carlos felt like being in pig’s heaven, all his hidden dreams came true. He took in the smell of his manhood, this strong musky smell. He thaught about bathing in it and suck it up into his own skin soi it’ll stay there forever.

    Once Diego was satisfied with his muscleslave’s work, he leaned forward and whispered „Now kiss me right on the lips…come on! Let me taste my salty sweat!” reaching out and pulling Carlos’ face towards him. He leaned over and pressed his mouth on Carlos’. He then shoved his tongue between his lips and began kissing him in his mouth making out with him, running his tongue all around the astonished musclestud’s oral cavity. Carlos Blanco couldn’t help but kiss him back and eagerly began sucking on the end of his master’s strong hard tongue so he didn’t feel the finger entering his butthole.

    Only a few minutes later as Diego broke the kiss, Carlos felt the strong digit circling in his chute and breaking it in for the big thing to come. Just a few seconds later he was pushed to the ground and Carlos was on his back underneath Diego. Diego had both the musclestud’s wrist pinned down with one hand and was smiling as he rubbed up and down the chisled male torso underneath him.

    “Look at that beautiful studly body. All those muscles, all this hard work to become a real man, and now ending up as a quivering slut, cumhungry, owned by me, marked with my sweat and spit as my property and totally under my control.”

    “I mean, you’re still a big, studly guy fro the outside who happens to be a slutty bottom sub inside. You are a typical manbitch.”

    With these words Diego bent back Carlos’ knees who tried to resist but a hard smack to his balls ended that fight. Diego aimed his huge cock head at his slave’s ass.

    “You will LOVE getting fucked by me, atta!” He began pushing in and Carlos took a deep breath and then began to moan as he took more of Diego’s cock. Diego was now fucking him very slowly, stopping along the way, and Carlos was writhing, feeling every bit of it. He wanted to break him slowly, so he would never forget this senstaional feeling of having his cherry taken. Then there was a last big thrust and Diego had buried all his manhood inside the virgin ass.

    “Do you love my cock inside your twat mancunt?”

    “Yeeeeessss! Ohhhh myyy gooood! I LOVE getting fucked by you!” Carlos screamed although there were tears in his eyes from the pain he endured.

    “God, it’s gonna be great being able to do anything possible with you to make you my personal bitch.“ Carlos triumphed and pounded away at the broken hole for a few minutes encreasing the moans of lust from his new bottom. Then he shot into Carlos’ ass. The bodybuilder shook all over from the force of the jizz that felt warm and creamy inside his guts. He really DID love it.

    “Now that you love being fucked we’ll get you addicted. That’ll take only a few more fuck-sessions. By the way we’ll get that cum juice of you milked to the last drop!“

    Diego pumped the musclestud for about four hours from every angle. He was pumping his chute in all techniques, soft and loving, hard and forceful, fast and furious, slow and long. Carlos just blew his first load almost immediately. It it didn*t take much time for the second one. And the third came harder then the two before. By the seventh one finally after 90 minutes Diego was pounding him and shooting four loads himself inside the warm ass, it was just droplets coming from the limp shaft of the musclebitch.

    “I now want your mouth, superbitch.” Diego smiled. Carlos looked at Diego’s cock in awe covered in slime of cum and assjuices. But he wanted it. He wanted it wherever Diego would put it.

    Diego fed him his cock and just a few seconds later he began to piss down Carlos’ throat to mark his territory completely. Carlos Balnco took it without hesitation, thinking all the while about what Diego was going to do to him afterwards. And as he thought about it, the eighth load was bigger than any load before. They both hugged each other writhing their hard bodies together on the wet floor.

    A loud knock on the door ripped the two of them from their intimate embrace. Diego already guessed who was standing there in front of the door and wasn’t afraid to open it, naked as he was with his cock still half hard.

    “Look musclebitch! There are the three… now that you’re all called Carlos… let’s say the three kings from the morning gym!”

    “This is Caspar, he brings myrrh, his seed is healing for your skin!” Diego grabbed Carlos Soler by the shoulder and pulled him into the shower room.

    “Now look, Melchior certainly has gold with him, even if it’s liquid!” Diego laughed and let Carlos Sainz enter too.

    “And don’t forget Balthasar!” Carlos Boozer pushed past Diego before he could continue.

    “Sure! I can spread the scent of love with my incense!” he grunted. “Don’t worry, I have enough gas in me to blow his brains out!”

    “Then help yourself!” allowed Diego. “But don’t ruin the goods for me, I still have big plans for the muscle baby!”

    “Jesus Christ, superslut, do you think you′re what they said you were?” he sang as he walked out of the room.

    “Jesus Christ, he’s so huge!” said Soler out of nowhere.

    Carlos smiled and blushed as he felt the men were scanning his muscled body up and down. Suddenly Booz / Balthasar reached over and squeezed Carlos’ bicep without permission. Soler / Caspar started squeezing one of the bodybuilder’s hard pecs. Sainz / Melchior fetched out his long dick and started stroking it a little. Soon a stream of hot piss shot out of him drnching Blanco’s body in the golden liquid. Soler and Booz had fun rubbing the piss all over Carlos’ magnificent chest and arms until his god-like muscles were covered from head to toe. Blanco was soaked in piss,every muscle of his body shining. He stood up and put his hands behind his head and thrust his hips forward to emphazise his strength showing off his muscles like being in a contest, his abs rippling as he moved. As the guys wolf whistled, he flexed his enormous pecs, making them dance, making them “pop”.

    “Wow, look at that muscular ass!” screamed Soler reaching over and soon he began to run his hand across the cheeks as Sainz and Booz rubbed Blanco’ enormous muscular thighs.

    Then Soler moved closer to the squirming bodybuilder until his own chest was pressed against him. He grabbed his ass making Carlos Blanco moan, as he squeezed his cheeks tightly in his hands. “I know what to do with these globes… gonna pound them to prime beef!”

    The new bottom slut was turned around to face the other two guys and noticed that they had taken their massive cocks out of their pants and were stroking as they watched his ass being squeezed,

    Soler pushed Carlos Blanco the massive musclestud to the ground, the heavy 265 pound body sliding down like a feather. Blanco breathed heavily while lying obediently on his back as he saw each of the three kings quickly undressing before encircling him as they stroked their large, solid cocks, looming above him. Each dick seemed to be bigger than the other, sturdy and erect, dripping with precum. He closed his eyes and grunted, overwhelmed by the pleasure taking over him. He was the Jesus child in the crib and was going to receive his blessings. Some of the sexiest athletes encircled him, beating their schlongs. His gigantic pecs began to heave up and down from his heightened breathing as Soler started to finger his wet hole.

    After a while of fingering the used hole Soler eagerly lifted Blanco’s meaty legs exposing his muscular bubble butt still dripping from all the loads, Diego had put there. He smiled like a lust-starved maniac before digging his mouth against the tasty hole causing the muscle pig to moan and grunt. Soler ate the ass as if his life depended on it, tasting the sweet and salty cum of Diego. Blanco writhed in pleasure as he felt the soccer player’s hot wet tongue explore the soft interiors of his tight muscle pussy.

    “Oh fuck, oh by god fuck pal, oh man, that feels so fucking good.” the bodybuilder began to whimper with pleasure at his first rimming.

    „Yeah bitch, moan for my cock, you’ll be a great fuck. You’re an even bigger whore than I would ever have dared to iumagine, look at you moaning like a dirty little bitch on a shower floor… while you’re so fucking big and manly.”

    Soler got up and stroked his shaft in front of Blanco’s open eyes. It was thick and mighty huge in length. “That’s right, atta boy. Strutting around on worldwide stages with those big muscles like you’re special. I’m going to show you what’s important to your brain. When I’m finished with you, the only important muscles in your body will be your jaw and anal muscle. I’m starting with your mouth.”

    Soler grabbed the bodybuilder by his hair and gave a sign to Booz to come over. The both took turns slapping their large wet dicks on the muscle slut’s face and jaw, painting it with precum. Blanco stuck out his tongue, desperately wanting to suck, aroused by the musky, manly odour emanating from both athlete’ cocks.

    “Cum, please give me cum!” he begged.

    “You hungry pig, cumloving bitch. Don’t worry we’ve got loads to feed you with!” said Booz as he shoved his cock down the bodybuilder’s throat forcing it all the way down his gullet.

    While the muscle pig swallowed the large cock up to the hilt, his obscene chest began heaving with his strained breathing. Booz then began fucking his face in long, hard thrusts that became progressively harder and faster until his balls were swinging and slapping against the muscle piglet’s chin. Boozer enjoyed the sight of the handsome stud’s face framing his gigantic black cock.

    “Oh yeah, your mouth feels so great on my fuckstick, cumslut,” remarked Booz, as he stroked the cocksucker’s throat. “I instantly knew you are a needy slut once I saw you out there watching us work out, watching our muscles bulge and our skin getting sweaty. How fun this is, you’re so fucking manly, so fucking big and macho! But beneath all this manlyness and muscle lurks a dirty, little piggy hungry for cum! You’re starving for cock and cum and who knows what else! Hell, I bet you want cock more than your bodybuilding career. Well then suck it slut, suck it mighty good.”

    After a while Booz got tired of feeding his cock alone so all three Carlos’ grabbed their dicks and began slapping Blanco with them rubbing their precious precum all over his face as if it were a cum rag. The more cock Blanco tasted and the more filthy things were said to him the more enthusiastic and longing he got. After about ten minutes of earnest sucking the three cocks in change, Booz pulled his dick from the bodybuilder’s stunned mouth.

    “The real fun is just about to get started pig boy.” Booz dropped his big dick right into Carlos’ wet crack and worked it back and forth until his fat dark cock head popped its way inside. The black basketball-pro slowly slid his manhood deep into the bodybuilder’s loose cunt, inch by ruthless inch, as Carlos Blanco wailed and moaned his approval in abandon.

    “Aaahhhhww fuck, your big cock feels so fucking good, man!” Blanco screamed and hammered his strong fists on the tiled floor. He felt in heaven as his large, muscular ass was getting another deep and rough pounding it had been yearning for. The breeding of his ravenous cunt with some more athlete’s cum was finally beginning. If he was to become pregnant, he would be a good father to his strong childs, he thaught. Booz began to mercilessly pound his muscled ass with reckless abandon. He quickly pulled his huge cock out only to slam it forcefully back into his cunt in strident, rapid thrusts. The first pain rapidly transformed into the most electrifying pleasure as Bozz’s cockhead speared into Blanco’s sensitive prostate.

    “Aaaah ooh fuck… yeeaaahhh…. ooohhh gooooodddd!” Blanco screamed as he got pounded by Booz.

    “Yeah take you dirty little cunt. You’re such a fucking cum-pig, take it like the pig you were born to be..” while pounding the muscled ass, Booz’ sweat dripped on to Blanco’ body and he continued to thrust into his hole that was becoming a twat with such a vigor and gusto without ever relenting. After about twenty minutes of ravaging the cunt, Booz began to slow down, only for his thrusts to become more vigorous.

    “Fuck man, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna breed this bitch.” his dick erupted like a volcano, shooting its lava deep inside Blanco’ love chute. So much cum spilled out of his dick that it oozed out of the tight pussy. As he pulled out his dick he watched the punk hole spasm and opening up like a rosebud.

    „He’s still craving for more!“ Booz ststed and urged his friends on. „Give him your gifts, pals!“

    And it was true, Blanco really needed more. He wanted to be fucked and filled for the whole day, maybe for a week, or even a month, wished, this feeling would never end, him servicing those muscled hunks, being the black hole for their cum, spit and piss. He wanted to be gang banged, used and abused by all the athlete gods of the world.

    Without even giving Blanco time to think more about all that, Soler ordered the bodybuilder to get on all fours. It was such a sight, the hugely muscular famous spanish bodybuilder being in the submissive and slutty position of a cum-hungry whore craving to get fucked doggy style and his cunt already dripping cum from some breedings he had before. Blanco even waved his obscenely round tanned and muscular ass at Soler who gave it a few hard smacks as it drooled strings of hot cum from its freshly used hole.

    “You think a few years in the gym and some steriods entitle you to be a muscle man … I’m the man here,” sneered Soler. “You’re just a muscle pig craving my huge cock. A dirty little bitch, when I’m finished with you, I will have made you my wife, my cumhungry girl!”

    “Oh yeah fuck me Soler, fuck me hard… fuck me like the dirty cheerleader cunt I am. I’m not a man… just a dirty female pig cock whore. I would wear a skirt and stockings if you want, just so you can fuck me more. You’re the real man” Blanco couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. But he knew there was nothing more than he wanted than to worship the cocks in the room one by one.

    Soler moved behind the knelling and moaning cunt and began to insert his cock into the spermed-up chute ever so slowly. Unlike Booz before, he would be taking his time with this cunt letting the slut feel just how gigantic his cock was, letting the sweet lips of his cunt swallow that new athlete’s meat.

    “OOOHHHHHH” squealed Blanco like a virgin school girl. Soler now pistoned in and out of Blanco’s hole expertly, making him moan, grunt and whimper from the sheer joy his thick, potent cock could produce.

    As he had fucked and breeded the muscle-cunt and having drained the last drops of his jizz into the muscular bottom, the Soler pulled his cock out from the tight chute with an audible `plop’ noise causing even more cum to gush out. The soccer star approached Blanco’s face with his deflating cock coated in cum and his own ass juices. Blanco looked up at Soler’s sweaty, naked torso with wide open eyes.

    „Don’t worry, babe. There’s tons more cock for you. Not only tonight but forever. You’re now part of our Diego community! Here, be a good pig and suck the cum off your daddy’s cock.” Blanco didn’t need to be told twice and was in heaven as his lips wrapped around the tasty cock coated in drying cum, sweat and ass juice. The bodybuilder’s slutty appetite was too much for Soler who began to cum ropes and ropes of cum up Blanco’s power bottom’s expanding lips. After his second load Soler’s cock slowly deflated in the sucking mouth.

    „Time for the real gift!“ he announced and it took him only a few more licks of the enthusiastic slut that he started to empty his bladder into the expert’s mouth. Very slowly he released the first drops of his salty piss into his hot mouth. He could feel Blanco leaving some in on his tastebuds before swallowing it. Soler’s dick was swimming in piss inside the closed mouth. It was warm and comforting around his soft dick. When the intensity of his piss increased Blanco moaned into his dick as he gulped and swallowed every yellow drop. He seemed to be loving every depaved moment and even pulled up off of the still erupting dick to let the whiz coat his face and chest. Blanco now really smelled like a urinal. He even smiled as he pointed the pissing prick all over his face and chest until the last streams landed directly on the ground below and he began lapping it up from the tiles with his tongue.

    „I think he loves gold!“ Soler stated, „what about you giving him the real incense, Sainz!“

    The Formula 1 star turned around, his hairy, lean ass bulging aout. He roughly grabbed the back of Blanco’s head and pushed his face into his butt.

    “Go on, muscle pig, sniff it good, it’s all for you!”

    Carlos Blanco tried to resist for a moment, but the racer’s scent was too strong. He sniffed the man’s ass like a dog sniffing at a tree and could tell he was ripe as hell. He’d probably just taken a dump without cleaning too meticulous, but a man’s ass doesn’t smell that strong unless he hasn’t showered for a while, letting his thick masculine musk build up in his crack. As he went on sniffing the dark crack and rubbing his nose along the wet cleft Carlos Blanco got aware, what a dirty butt sniffing fag he was.

    Sainz bent forward a little more, pushing his butt towards Blanco’s face, and the bodybuilder’s eyes got fixed to his big ass. Dark black air was coming up his lower back, so thick is was covering his glutes and all down his thighs and his entire legs. Right in the center of his butt crack, Blanco saw the faint stain of a skid mark sticking to the fur.

    This hairy celeb reeked to high heaven. Blanco was in shock and ecstasy at the same time, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking in a deep breath, inhaling slowly and heavily, smelling all the rank musk emanating from this hot stud’s dirty butt crack. He savoured the scent in his nose, rubbing his face into the guy’s dirty sweaty ass cheeks, then exhaled with a sigh of pure pleasure.

    Right then, Sainz released a rumbling fart, plunging Blanco’s face into such a stinking and filthy way with his ass gas, that Blanco thaught about throwiung up. But Carlos Sainz groaned as his fart just kept blasting like a lawns mower before petering off into moist sputtering and leaving Blanco in a cloud of masculine raunch.

    By now Carlos Blanco couldn’t stop himself. He buried his whole face in this stud’s furry ass. It was so furry Blanco could barely see the guy’s skin under the tangle of thick, dark black hair. He huffed the filthiest shithole he could have imagined then dug his tongue out, wiping his new pal’s dirty butt with his tongue.

    Carlos Blanco lapped at the guy’s ass for some more minutes, now accompanied by moans from the both of them. He tasted all the sweat, grime, built up heavy musk, and crud, and swallowed the gobs of saliva that mixed with all the filth his tongue was dripping. Sainz farted a few more times, grunting loudly each time, spewing hot, wet air into Blanco’s open mouth who was so in to it he didn’t hear Soler and Booz laugh about his depravity. Blanco was snorting like a pig, tongue going wild in this dude’s filthy hairy ass. He lapped up all the stink until the guy’s ass seemed clean.

    Sainz turned around, grinning ear to ear, and told Blanco to open his mouth because he too had some gold for him. He let out a thick stream of yellow piss right down Blanco’s throat mixing it with Soler’s in his belly. While Blanco gulped the guy’s piss, he could still smell the stench of his raunchy butt all over his face. To ensure Blanco would not forget his stench Sainz wiped his various sex juices all over the hunk’s pig face, grabbing him by the ears and smearing the liquids all over his pretty features.

    “More, please more!” begged Blanco delirious flexing his biceps and bouncing his pecs, as if he needed to put on a show to convince the horny guys to continue!.

    Soler ordered Blanco to turn and get on his back. “We wanna see you get stuffed really good, piggy boy!“ he explained.

    As soon as Carlos Blanco lay on his back Booz shoved his cock deep down the muscular athlete’s throat and Soler started to penetrate his love-tunnel with his fuck-stick. He fucked Blanco in long, slow strokes as Soler stuffed his mouth in rapid, short thrusts. It was a picture perfect: the muscular hunk getting stuffed on both ends by two turgid athlete’s cocks, his own fat dick erect with enjoyment. With each of his expert jabs, Soler elicited a new, louder groan from Blanco as he moved his head back and forth energetically on Booz’ thick cock. Booz fucked Blanco’s face for a while then at one point as he felt his orgasm building up he pulled out of the slut’s mouth and thrust back in, screaming as he squirted ribbon after ribbon of gooey man milk so deeply into the bodybuilder’s throat, the athlete thaught it was spewing straight out of his ass!

    After they all gained some breath Soler lay down on the floor, waving his hard dick invitingly at Blanco who without hesitating happily and rapidly impaled himself on the large cock, choosing to face the soccer player’s handsome face. Instantly, his beefcake body began to ride the hard fuck pole, his gigantic pecs bouncing along with him, his swollen cock slapping hard against his abs the more he fucked himself in a frenzy. While Blanco-slut rode Soler, Sainz pressed his hands against his broad shoulders, massaging them. Then Sainz’ hands moved around to Blanco’s hard pecs, squeezing his erect nipples. Encouraged by the nipple play Blanco bounced and thrust himself up and down that thick soccer cock like his life depended on it, possessed by enjoyment. His gazing eyes rolled to the back of his head in pure power bottom bliss.

    The nippleplay was to distract him from the fact that Sainz had slid very close behind him. Slowly Soler slid his dick most of the way out of Blanco’s ass, allowing Sainz to slide his flared cockhead against his friend’s rock hard cock into the new cunt. Carlos Blanco’s eyes opened in shock. He saw Soler beneath him grinning mischievously.

    “Please nooo… stoooopp… I can’t take both of your monster cocks at the same time! Oooohhhh…. aaaaahhhh…. deeeepppeeeeer!” screamed Balnco changing his mind in seconds.

    Sainz pushed the tip of his cock further into piggy’s hole. Just in time, as Blanco’s sphincter tightened up again in panic, Soler pulled the hunky beefcake down to him and kissed him, caressing his magnificent pecs and nips, tonguing him deep. Sainz soon felt the slutty cunt loosen and pushed in more of his meat. Blanco wanted to scream in pain but Soler muffled his screams with hot, passionate tongue action in his mouth.

    The copious cum from the previous fuckings lubed the sphincter, allowing Sainz’ big dick to slide almost half way alongside Soler’s schlong. The three athletes waited for a few seconds, their sweaty, perfect bodies entangled into each other, before they started pushing and thrusting against each other again. Blanco’ breathing became more rapid causing his enormous pecs to heave and swell even more.

    “Give me your cocks!” he moaned “I want them both, I want them deep! Sluttycize me, breed me, make me your whore!”

    Needing no more encouragement, the two tops thrust their hard cocks all up the slutty hole. Despite his former pleading Blanco now yelped in pain that soon became pleasure as the two cocks slid against each other in his well lubed anus. Carlos Blanco, professional bodybuilder, screamed in pure wild abandon as his tight hole was stretched beyond belief by the friction of those light chocolate cocks pistoning in and out of him.

    “Fuck me! Fuck me!” Blanco begged and they happily continued plowing his muscle ass, like two rodeo riders taming a wild horse. As they continued fucking their jock slut, Booz began pissing down on all of them starting with Blanco’s hungry mouth. It was just a few more minutes that to Carlos Blanco felt like a happy eternity, that he began to experience the most powerful orgasm he had ever felt.

    “Oh fuck, OHHH FUUUCKKK, here it comes!” Blanco screamed out and there were endless ropes of cum. His almost 300 pound body of muscle shuddered so violenty from the orgasm, the two of them had to hold him down on their cocks with all their force. Ribbon after thick ribbon of cum rose into the air, splattering on Soler’s chests and face. Each ejaculation was so powerful and forceful it was accompanied by a full body spasm.

    “Dudes, yes oh yeah! Take me, fuck me! You fucking own me now! I’m a slave to your cocks! YOU OWN MY PUSSY! I’ll be your faggot whore! I’M YOUR PUSSYBOI! Fuck me PLEASE! PLEEEEESE OH GOD OH GOD FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME! Fuck my pig pussy! TAKE MY TWAT! MAKE ME YOUR CUNT BOY!” Blanco was throwing himself backward into Sainz’ arms and they too made out, letting their tongues wrestle and their spit splatter around their faces.

    “Yeah, that’s it fagboy! You like our big daddy dicks up your precious little muscle pussy don’t you? Wanna get pregnant, bitch?“ Soler asked watching the two men kiss.

    „Yes, I want you to make me your pregnant fuckwhore! Seed me up with your fuckin’ jizz, make a fuckin’ baby up in that muscle hole… Yeah, I’m your girlieboy. Fuckin’ little twat…Please….fuckin’….do it! Make…me… your…fuckin’……pregnant… BITCH!”

    The sight was too much for Soler and Sainz, whose cocks exploded fresh loads all inside Blanco’s new pounded twat filling him with so much jizz that he felt it in his stomach. While they were flooding the expanded hole of the bodybuilder with gallons of fresh loads Booz shot his white jizz all over them crisscrossing their faces with ribbons of creamy white cum.

    After this day Carlos liked his men super butch, controlling, demanding, and soon he was their bottom bitch. He had a special weakness for muscled men in blue collar or uniforms. Something about this authority emphazised by the work-clothes. He loved to be a pussy bottom for his dom tops, and to give his cunt up whenever there was a leaking shlong.

    To give his men easy access to his hole he wore a jockstrap. His favorite was to be woken up with a huge cock ramming him until he cums. He wanted to get fucked all the time, and wanted a muscle jock to take his twat whenever he wanted it. All the other time he wore a large plug underneath his jock. To Diego he was an obedient slave, helping him anytime there was a new recruiting even if he had to drug and kidnap a new victim. As long as he was rewarded by a big cock up his cunt, he was willing to do anything.

    ———

    The evening was crowned with success, at least for Carlos Pena. He had picked up this dream woman. Of course he was aware that she was in a relationship with Carlos Holse, but may the better man win. And he was the better one! After a few drinks and flirting, he had the model in his bed, having already taken her on the living room floor and by the fridge before. Now he was lying in her fluffy bed with silk sheets and scrolling through the photos he had taken of his sex date. He loved having his conquests’ faces covered in his cum, it made him feel powerful and dominant.

    He studied one of the photos particularly intensively, in which the slut was dripping with his juice from the top of her head to her false eyelashes to her sprayed lips. She was in the shower and probably thought she could wash off the sex.

    “Try it, you whore!” Carlos Pena murmured. “You don’t just wash off the spermator’s sex!”

    Lying with his back to the door, he didn’t notice how it slowly opened and a muscular shadow entered the room. Only when the shadow leaned over him did he flinch. Before Pena could turn around, he felt a sting in his neck and his eyes closed.

    Carlos Blanco had learned to precisely place the syringes with the effective anesthetic. He grabbed the limp, naked body and threw it over his shoulder like a trash bag. He disappeared just as unnoticed as he had broken into the apartment, so that Alexa Vega came out of the shower and was surprised to find the empty bed. The surprise wasn’t that Pena had disappeared without saying goodbye, because she was aware that this was a one night stand, but that he had left his clothes and shoes behind was astonishing to her. 

    While Alexa was still having these thoughts, the dark van started 3 floors down on the street and drove off into the night.

    Just half an hour later Carlos Pena still dizzy from the drug was pulled out of the truck and pushed through a door of a dark empty factory building and up the stairs to an office with open lavatory.

    Pena tried to fight being forced into the room. He had no idea as to the stranger’s intentions. The weak resistance caused Carlos Blanco to become more aggressive with his pushes and more proactive in maintaining the vulnerability of his captive. Blanco shoved Pena to the back wall so his muscled body was covering the way out. 

    For a moment Pena thaught he would be killed. That was when the stranger spun him around so that he was facing the dirty wall which was covered with Sexual expressions and erotic drawings written on the grey plaster. Blanco forcefully pressed Pena face up against the wall so that the plaster under his face crumbled. 

    „This is it!“ Pena thought to himself. „Tonight I’m going to die. This monster of a man is going stab me with a knife. He’s going to slit my throat or just strangle me with one of his large hands and leave my naked body on the cold dusty concrete.“ He was trembling so much he nearly collapsed right then and there.

    But instead of the icy cold steel of a blade, instead of his neck being squeezed and snapped, Pena felt the bodybuilder’s fingers slide into the cleft of his ass lingering there for a moment then circling the soft hairy rosebud. 

    „Holy shit!“ Pena screamed. „You’re not going to rape me, are you?“

    „Boy, we’re gonna take that cherry, break it, make you a whimpering whore tonight!“ Blanco whispered in his ear. „When we’re finished with you, you’ll be begging to be raped over and over again! The world will only exist for you to get cocks up your twat!“

    Fear crept up Pena’s whole body. Here he was, pressed up against a dirty wall of an empty building, no one would hear his screams, his naked butt free for the taking. One of the large hands stuck two fingers up his mouth and he felt two pills slide on his tongue. The hand closed his mouth until he couldn’t hold on and swallowed the unkown mixture of drugs. Behind him, his captor then crouched down, so that he was face to butt with Pena’s ass.

    Suddenly, both of Pena’s hairy ass cheeks were grabbed tight by those bis and rough hands. Almost violently, they were pulled apart, revealing their moist, hairy middle. With his anus entirely exposed and his cheeks spread wide a big wet fart escaped his ass. The room around them slowly began to stink. Pena could already smell his own natural stink of his male butthole and felt disgusted.

    The dominant bodybuilder pulled Pena’s ass closer to him, so he was sticking his entire ass out in the open. With his legs now spread slightly, Pena’s genitals dangled helplessly between his legs. With his hairy ass cheeks spread wide and his brown pucker fully exposed, Carlos Pena couldn’t help but feel a small rush of blood in his dick. The drugs that Blanco had injected into his blood also took their tall.

    Suddenly Blanco’s large tongue slid up the gorge of his ass, from taint to tailbone. A small noise escaped Pena’s throat. A noise that somehow sounded like a squealing pig. He felt his captor push his nose into his crack, diving headfirst into his ass. With his nose pressed up against Pena’s anus, the man behind him drew in a long, deep breath as if he was snorting a line of coke. In fact, the man began sniffing Pena’s ass like a hungry dog.

    With his head still pressed to the wall, Pena felt his head spnning from the drugs and his lips opening as he somehow felt his tongue stick out and he began licking at a scetch of a large penis that was drawn with a black pen to the wall. This was something out of a gay nightmare. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t run away naked and bare-assed with his balls hanging free. He could scream, but who in the world would hear him? All he could do was stay put and let this beast of a man have his way with him. It was, truly, his only chance for survival.

    After several minutes of intense sniffing, Pena’s captor resumed tonguing his ass crack, moistening the furry valley between his cheeks, and always paying particular attention to the hole. Finally Blanco was shoving his tongue so deep that another yelp escaped Pena’s throat. It was high-pitched, like a girl’s giggle. He had never made noises like this before.

    The large, beastly man ate out Pena’s ass for nearly ten minutes, slurping and sucking, kissing and tonguing every bit of ass flesh. All the while, Pena’s drugged body writhed with the new, unexpected stimulation. The thick bristles of Blanco’s beard scraped the soft, untouched skin surrounding Pena’s hole. Swirling and wiggling throughout his rectum, the tongue tickled his insides and sent chills up his spine. 

    After quite a while Blanco was satisfed and pulled his face that was smeared in slop out of Pena’s ass crack. A few seconds later Pena heard the unmistakeable sound of a fly being unzipped.

    Pena’s heart boomed inside of him. He now knew, what was coming next. His puckered, tongue-lubed anus pinched tight shut, and his testicles just about jumped up into his belly.

    Pena was able to turn his head backwards to catch a glimpse of what the monster behind him was doing. He watched as his kidnapper undid his belt. The muscle man let his pants fall down to his knees, and Pena again felt his heart shudder.

    There underneath the white underwear was a bulge that had to contain at least a foot long anaconda and two ostrich eggs. Without realizing it, Pena’s mouth had fallen wide open in awe. This man’s endowment was enormous if not monstrous! It was easily the most impressive and still terrifiyng and horrifying thing Carlos Pena had ever seen.

    “Come on… taste your pussy… taste your own asshole, bitch… suck my tongue clean, boy…” Blanco stuck out his tongue that a few seconds before had rimmed the virgin straight hole and shoved it in the actor’s wet astonished mouth. “Suck on it… good boy!” he mumbled.

    Pena’s stomach spasmed as he wrapped his trembling lips around that stranger’s wet tongue. He could taste foul bitterness but somehow managed to keep sucking with wild abandon, and resignation, as the effect of the drugs took over his resistance. He wanted to break down on the floor sobbing, but despite being scared shitless, he actually felt something inside him wanting it. Right here, right now.

    Carlos Pena shut his eyes tightly and sucked on Balnco’s tongue feeling his lips and bristled chin touching his manly face for the first time. The raunchy, dirty smell of his own ass made Pena gag and cough and gasp… still his cock was bouncing and leaking nonstop.

    „HELP ME PLEASE! WON’T SOMEONE HELP ME?“ Pena screamed in panic as the man withdrew his lips but the screams sounded more like the voice of a kid lost in the dark woods. „PLEASE, DON’T HURT ME! DON’T FUCK ME!“

    “Oh, I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby… I’m gonna breed this virgin straight ass of yours…” Blanco whispered, feeling the athletic body shake in his hands. “You want it sooooo bad, don’t you, cunt? You’re a born submissive, faggot! You’re gonna get your ass filled with gallons of cum tonight, slut…”

    “Noooo, please, stop! I beg you…” Pena shook his head violently and begged desperately with tears welling up in his big, panicked eyes. His body thrashed wildly under that man’s control, writhing and buckling.

    “Oh, you’ll love it. Secretly, you’ve known that this was your destiny all your life collecting all those pictures of sperm drenched whore-faces. You love sperm, admit it, want to smell it, taste it, be filled with it. Maybe you even want to have your whole skin smell like sperm all day. I just got the order to break you in and show you how much fun you can have.”

    Digging his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, Blanco unfolded it over his stiffening package. The fleshy monster tumbled out with incredible weight, and fell omto Pena’s left cheek with a sticky, wet slap. The captive could feel the size and weight of the man’s junk on his back like a barbell. It it had to be at least twelve inches once fully erect, thick, and stiff with sexual energy. At his naked butt, Pena could feel the heat radiating off the man’s groin.

    Pena flinched as the bodybuilder grabbed his waist and pulled his ass cheeks aside once again. His anus, open and vulnerable, twitched with terrified anticipation. His stomach twisted into a tight knot. And suddenly, he could feel the hot tip of the captor’s penis position itself at the base of his hole.

    The helpless actor swallowed hard, unsure of what to expect. He knew he was going to be raped. There was no doubt in his mind he was fucked. But what he didn’t know was how much it would hurt. What if he would spilt him in two and let him bleed out?

    The bodybuilder placed his large, sturdy hand on Pena’s shoulder. The other, he used to hold the new bottom’s ass cheek to the side, giving him easy access to his anus. And then provided by his spit moistening, in one fluid, slick motion, he gradually slid his monster cock into the actor’s rectum.

    „Oh fuck,“ he sscreamed his lungs nearly breaking. „oh fucking god, OOOOHHHHH—HOOOOOLLLYYYY FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!“

    This feeling of having just a small part of the dick in his ass was beyond anything Penas had ever experienced. It was just too much, this guy’s mushroom head with the size of a baseball was too big, his anus was going to tear!

    So here he was, a famous celebrity, kidnapped, helpless, out in the dark middle of nowhere warehouse, pressed up against a brick wall while being butt-fucked by this hulk. Pena winced as Blanco’s thick shaft of meat slipped up to the end of his rectum and breached his colon. With that, the bodybuilder wrapped his arms securely but with a lot of force and strength around Pena and pulled him in tight so that their hot bodies were pressed together. After giving Pena a short minute of allowing his virgin anus to adjust to the size of his cock, he slowly, gradually, began to pump in and out.

    Even if he started to go slow, the fucking was purely animalistic, and Blanco held his victim in a powerful vice that established his dominance, along with Pena’s helplessness.

    Over the course of several minutes, the fucking went from slow to the equivalent of a roller-coaster. The moment Pena’s sphincter widened enough and his body relaxed a little, the aggressor took the reigns and began to fuck the holy shit out of him. He was piston-fucking the bottom’s ass, his massive sweaty ballsack slapping noisily against Pena’s taint, his hips bucking like a vibrating plate compacting earth.

    Feeling every inch of the engorged penis, Pena did everything in his power not to cry out in pain. He was and felt so helpless. He might have tried to fight his fucker off but this man was nearly twice the size of him and pure muscle. He knew he would only escape a few metedrs and be killed for the attempt. All he could do was let the man fuck him and hope it would soon be over.

    Pena felt his own cock and balls flapping chaotically between his legs with each thrust from the back. To his surprise, he was semi-hard and leaking a healthy amount of precum already dripping down his legs. This man was somehow stimulating him deep from within, his cock grinding up against Pena’s prostate.

    „Jesus, this actually feels… good!“ Pena thaught with his ass cheeks pulled wide apart and a massive piece of flesh tunneling into his bowels.

    Then without warning, Blanco rammed his cock up into the depths of Pena’s guts, thereby charting unexplored territory. The tip of his dick pushed up into Pena’s prostate once more, deep inside his body.

    Behind him, Pena heard the man stifle a growl. His cock was drilled so far up inside the actor, that his anus was practically clamped around the man’s pelvic bone. There wasn’t even the thickness of a sheet of paper of more cock to take in.

    „Ohhhh, baby! Such a hot ass!“ Blanco moaned. „I’m the first man on the moon breeding it, claiming it to be a cum dump from now on, turning it into a faggot twat! I am breaking you, taking your macho attitude and turn you into the fucking gay whore, you are supposed to be!“

    A few more seconds of dirty talk, and finally Pena could feel the unmistakeable spasming of the muscle deep in his belly. Carlos Blanco was orgasming, big time in his famous ass. By then, Pena was pulled in so close and so tight by the powerful arns, that he could hardly breathe. He was feeling the hard biceps crushing his ribs. Any tighter, and his whole ribcage would’ve been crushed in the man’s powerful vice.

    Spurt after spurt, Carlos Pena could feel the man’s hot, thick semen dousing his insides. All of his insides were being slathered in the copious amount of male fluid. Within a minute, it was over. Blanco had emptied himself completely, and Pena had taken every last drop.

    Just a few seconds while being flouded with cum Pena threw his head back, grunting and whimpering as squirt after squirt of thick cum erupted from his cock, drenching his abs and chest.

    Blanco stayed plugged into Pena’s butt for around a minute to enjoy the feeling of the heaving body underneath him and giving himself the time to cool off and wind down. He knew that his new slut also had emptied his balls while feeling his guts filled with manmilk.

    Carlos Blanco drew his dick out of the sphincter with a noisy, wet suction sound so that Pena gasped at the immediate void of his bowels. Seeing the blubbery gold shaft, greasy with his own anal juices, the swollen pink tip and the heavy pair of hairy testicles shocked him, that so much had been stuffed up inside him.

    Pena gulped and forced himself to pull his eyes away from the massive penis that had been inside him less than a minute ago. He looked up at his captor who lifted Pena straight up and carried him down the hall, throwing his used body on a blanket underneath a blind window.

    The door to the warehouse opened and Carlos Alcaraz entered together with his master Diego. They both went straight on to the trembling captive, and kicked him in the ribs with their sneakers.

    „Look at that misery, Alcaraz!“ Diego mocked. „What a dirty little scumbag!“

    „Yeah, daddy, may I have my revenge?“ asked Alcaraz and Diego gave him his permittance with a wink of his hand.

    Only seconds later Carlos Alcaraz had mounted his rival and was thrusting in and out of the actor’s ass doggy-style. The shaft of his penis was swollen and glazed in the organic lubricant of Blanco’s cumload and Pena’s own anal juices.

    Pena felt Alcaraz’ curved long dick poking inside his ass. It hurt like hell. While Blanco’s dick was thicker this one was even longer and it hit his prostate with such force he thaught he would collapse. Then he felt the hand of Alcaraz pulling his head back arching his back. Groaning from the awkward position, he couldn’t escape the little brown bottle, that Diego shoved under his nose. He took a large hit of the poppers and even felt liquid evaporating on his nostril. Diego told him to hold his breath and then clamped his paw over Pena’s nose and mouth so he had little choice.

    The poppers hit Pena like a wall. One minute he went from pain of another cock entering him to lustful moaning uncontrollably. The skin of his body tingled all over and his brain was shut down. All he could do and think of was to feel this tennis-pro’s dick plowing into his ass. He was arching his back now without Alcaraz’ help, not in pain, but trying to shove his ass back onto his cock as he thrusted faster and faster. As Pena started gasping against the vice grip of Diego’s hand stillcovering his mouth he began licking the inside of his palm. He was so high of the mixture of drugs in that minute he would have done anything for cocks. The only sensory input his brain had, was a big dick in his cunt and to suck on some manflesh.

    While Alcaraz tunneled deep inside of him the palm was replaced by Diego’s dick, pressing its head to his lips and sliding in with nearly no resistance.

    For the second time that day, and with only an hour between occurrences, Pena was being fucked and now spitroasted and he obviously was getting off on that. His asshole was a wide, cavernous mouth, hungry for male flesh. Although it hurt, being fucked by a cock so big, but the intensity of Alcaraz’ fucking and penetrating his prostate was irresistable.

    Diego and Carlos Blanco took turns skullfucking Pena, holding his face with their powerful hands close to their groin. They gripped the back of his neck, pinning his face into their pubic bushes. With his ass fucked into oblivion and cocks presseing down his throat he was effectively pinned between nearly five hundred pounds of man, his butthole speared deep by the second penis in his life.

    He had always been the top, fucking girls like trophies. Now he was raped on the floor, kneeling on a dirty rag, moaning into some hot fleshy dick in his mouth and clamping his ass shut to never let go of this perfect stuffing. Pena at that moment couldn’t deny how gratifying it was to be dominated, mounted, fucked!

    It was a scene to remember of four godlike erotic male bodies, hard with muscle, shining in sweat in the dim light, asses exposed, cocks hard as a steel weapon and one ass deeply penetrated. The large room soon smelled of men and sex, and for all of them, it was deeply intoxicating like poppers.

    Then at some point as Pena’s mouth was empty Diego ordered, “Beg for my cock cocksucker.”

    Carlos Pena instantly resumed being a cocksucking bitch as he begged, “Oh please shove that thick tube in my trashy cocksucking mouth and fuck my face.”

    The muscled hunk shoved his cock back into Pena’s mouth and explained, “You see, cocksucker, I only allow my godly cock to be serviced my eager, hungry, submissive, worshipping bitchy cocksuckers who really convince me they crave it, must have it, even though they have a girlfreind, a wife or kids at home who they should probably be with at the moment and play. I love to turn you straight hunks into sloppy bottom whores. And once you taste my cum, you’ll never be with a girl again!” He again withdrew his cock, a long strain of saliva dangling between the tip and Pena’s lips. 

    “And now, tell me why you are here!” Diego claimed, his cock still dangling flaccidly between his legs.

    All the defence in the world couldn’t produce another answer to that question than what Pena felt drugged and used from the back. He took a deep breath, stared at the shining cock and finally admitted the obvious, “To suck your cock, Sir.”

    “Because you’re…,” he questioned.

    “A cocksucker,” Pena screamed. „I am a fucking cocksucker and faggot pussy! I crave cock and cum and want to serve you. Please stick it in again!“

    Pena leaned forward a little more, opened his mouth and took the hardening cock in.

    Suudenly he was in lust…in lust with a cock. He wanted to suck it, worship it, make it shoot its thick load down his throat.

    “Do you like a big cock in your mouth, cocksucker?” Diego asked.

    Pena just nodded, trying to keep the slippery cock in his mouth, savouring the salty taste of precum on his tongue.

    “Say it loud, cocksucker,” Carlos Blanco ordered and Diego pulled his cock out of the eager mouth.

    Pena looked up and admitted the obvious, “I love some big cock in my mouth. I love your cock, I want to suck it, please!”

    “Beg for it,” Diego demanded, tapping his lips with his big dick, opening up his mouth for the taking.

    Although Pena knew he was trying to humiliate him, he was helpless to do anything but beg. “Please, Sir, can I suck your big hard cock until you shoot your cum down my sissy cocksucker mouth?”

    “So do you understand that once I fill you with my cum, you are my personal cocksucker, marked my territory for life? And you’ll be coming over to me anytime I call you to suck my cock whenever I feel like using your faggot mouth?” he clarified.

    “Yes, I totally belong to you!” Pena nodded, willing to agree to almost anything to have that warm beautiful fleshy stick back in his mouth.

    “What about girls? You still going to be the Sperminator?” he laughed and didn’t wait for a real answer as he slid his cock back in Pena’s mouth. Carlos Pena resumed bobbing, hungry for more of his cock, hungry for any cock at that moment, hungry for jizz. He was so taken aback by the drugs, his mind was far from nowhere. So the last thing in his mind were girls and boobs. All Pena could focus on was the now completely hard cock in his mouth and the long sausage in his ass.

    As he began bobbing on the rod slightly faster, he felt the tip of Blanco’s dick touching his lips from the left. He couldn’t imagine he could get both cocks in his mouth at the same time but was willing to try.

    “That’s it cocksucker, keep taking all the cock in the world in that sissy mouth of yours. Stretch it to be a pussy, a twat! With practice you will eventually be able to take some dark black 14“ cocks the size of some street bollards between your puffy lips,” Diego said, making it clear once again that this was Pena’s destiny from now on.

    Five inches of Blanco’s cock slid in his mouth next to Diego’s buried schlong. The actor felt the corners of his mouth burst, but didn’t care. All he wanted was to satisfy both men, all three of them, wanted to get the guilt of fucking Alcazar’s girl pumped out of him.

    To his disbelief his mouth and throat adjusted to the intruders and he kept slowly taking more and more, wanting, absurdly, to be their best cocksucker they ever had, wanting to taste them and savour their juices.

    After Blanco’s cock was buried to the hilt next to Diego’s, Diego declared, “We’re going to fuck your mouth now, cocksucker. We’ll break it, maybe you’ll never be able to hold food in there, because your jaw will be too slack!”

    The sheer humiliation excited Pena and he gulped on the two cocks, moaning and wiggling his ass.

    “Such an eager straight latin cocksucker slut, I think we have our Big Time Crush here!” Blanco smirked, as he accompanied by Diego went on fucking the actor’s mouth.

    It was a rough fuck, and they didn’t care gagging Pena with all their cock. The intensity caused Pena to cough, snot running out of his nose, while he stared with glassy eyes at the two muscled bodies.

    After a few minutes Diego groaned, “I think it’s time we’ll reward you with our full load down your throat. The first of thousands to come!”

    Pena involuntarily moaned on the cocks. He felt excited by the promise and desperate to taste cum and feel it fill his mouth. He by now really wanted to know what cum tasted like directly from the tap. It would taste like the nectar of the gods he thaught.

    The moment Pena felt the first load explode in his mouth he was addicted. He wanted to savour the strong taste, the jizz of Diego being pumped in his throat by Blanco who was still on the best way to cum. So Blanco kept pumping his cock in and out the cumfilled mouth until he also came with a loud roar and Pena had no choice but to swallow it all.

    “You’re a born cocksucker,” Diego groaned, “swallow our cream like the latin cumslut you are!”

    “Tell us, slut,” Blanco ordered, “Did you enjoy your first of many cocksucking experiences to come?”

    “Yes,” Pena whispered, a sudden shame at his current future hitting him. He even forgot the steady pumping of cock in his ass.

    The roar of a lion woke him up again as Alcaraz wrapped both his arms around Pena’s trim frame and pulled the actor up into his body.

    Pena released a loud, drawn-out groan as his body was unmistakeably penetrated again big time. Here he was on his hands and knees, on the cool dirty warehouse floor, with a man mounting him desperate for revenge. He could feel the anger in each thrust.

    Heavy, beastly growls escaped Alcaraz throat as he pumped in and out of his victim giving way to his thaughts of revenge fucking his date. His large hairy man sack slapped noisily against Pena’s exposed taint.

    “Your ass is all mine now,” Alcaraz claimed. “From now on, my cock is you world. Got that? You bend down and offer your ass and mouth, whenever I ask! Even on the set, you will take a break when I call you, get on your knees and worship me, understand?”

    Beneath Alcaraz’ trained body, Pena nodded and made a confirming grunt.

    “Everyday I want, I will empty my seed in your stomach through your cunt ass or your whore mouth, just the way I like it,” Carlos Alcaraz went on. „With enough cum in your body you will smell like me all day. You will never have sex with a woman again. From now on, your body belongs to me and all the other men. I am marking you with my scent, with my male sweat and essence. And if you ever try to leave or do a report at the feds, we’re gonna publish this material! Yeah, bitch, it’s all on film here, even your confessions. Nobody would believe you. We also own some cops and judges. Got that, bitch?”

    Pena’s voice cracked as he made a loud, confirming moan. At the same time, his curved cock sank a few inches deeper into Carlos Pena’s gut, sliding up somewhere where until then nothing had entered and he released his seed. Alcaraz’ entire body tensed as all of his energy rushed into his cock for revenge. His cock grew even harder in that last millisecond of orgasm before finally he spewed like a volcano, a killer eruption of hot man lava. He dumped a massive load of cum deep into Pena’s gut.

    In his bowels, Pena could feel his insides doused with thick loads of cum.All men now watched the intense stiffness of Pena’s own cock dangling between his legs, giving way to all the torture. He was suddenly caught up in an orgasm of his own. As his cock grew stiff like a crowbar, he squealed like a pig. Pump after pump, Pena splashed the rag underneath. After all four of them had finished their loads they watched the puddle of male seed, wherein the exhausted Pena collapsed on the rag, while Alcaraz’ cock still nestled inside of him and the weight of the tennis-pro pressed down on him.

    After a while Pena’s sphincter ring slowly began to return to its normal size as Alcaraz’ cock softened.

    Carlos Blanko picked Pena up in his powerful arms, carried him down the hall, to another room with what seemed like a panoramic window. But it was a wallsized compilation of screens showing clips of the last hour with all the positions Pena had been fucked and humiliated over and over again. And to humiliate him even more, they laid his body on the floor and showered him with piss from head to toe always explainung to him, that this window may open to the world, thousands, maybe million of people watching his degredation and depravity drinking and bathing in some other men’s piss. 

    “Do you want to give him the final blow, Alcaraz?” Blanco asked, “Do you want to finish your revenge yourself?”

    Carlos Alcaraz thought for a moment and as he looked at Blanco’s rock-sized fist, he grinned deviously. “I think I’d rather watch you destroy him!” Alcaraz hissed and laughed out loud.

    “We’ll give him a little encouragement for the finale!” explained Diego and sprinkled a line of white powder on his erect penis. “Come on, bitch, suck that up your nose!” And without hesitation, the actor obeyed, shivering from the cold as his urine-soaked body was exposed to the cool air of the warehouse. The coke finally pushed him over the finish line. His brain switched off and you could have thought you were looking at a worm that could talk, or at least stammer. Pena writhed on the floor and whined incoherent words as he alternated between shoving his fingers up his own ass, scraping out the collected cocktail there, and then shoving it into his mouth with his fingers.

    “Fuck me… cum… cocks… breed me… lick… suck… cocksucker bitch… be a good boy… daddies… please… make me your slut!” The three men watched the inferior object on the floor and grinned. Then Blanco stepped forward and lifted Pena’s legs with one hand surrounding both ankles.

    With his feet in the air, Blanco hovered over Carlos Pena like a beast. His anus now was fully exposed again.

    After over an hour of fucking, Pena’s anus was a gaping hole. But Blanco wasn’t finished yet. He started working the wet cunt with his large fingers with some gentle massaging of the sphincter. Slowly he inserted more fingers and went deeper, easing Pena into accepting more and more of his fingers as time went on.

    The room stank of piss, cum and ass juices. Pena’s anus was wide open now as Blanco was making his way deeper and deeper inside. After about ten minutes he plunged the fourth and the fifth finger in. 

    “You fucking faggot, take it! I’m fucking you with my fingers. I’m fisting your hole.” Blanco said pushing the fingers deeper into the ass. “Take my hand. It’s going to rip your sissy pussy apart!”

    Five fingers were stretching Pena’s asshole apart, forcing it to gape open. The response was immediate. Pena howled out in great pain, the muscles within his body contracting. His screams resounded through the building. The pain had overcome him, rendering him speechless. He could only groan as the pain became unbearable.

    “Does it hurt?” Blanco mocked. I’m gonna hurt your ass beyond your wildest fantasy, you fucking pervert.” 

    Bucking hard on the cold floor, Pena distracted his mind from the pain. Gritting his teeth to bear the pain, he could not stop sweating. Drops of sweat rolled out from the pores and formed streamlets, flooding the floor. Carlos Blanco waited a few seconds to get Pena accustomed as much as possible. Finally, with one loud, wet pop, Pena’s anus took the whole of Blanco’s large fist. Carlos Blanco, hands of a bodybuilder, drove his entire wrist into Pena’s depths and, in pure pleasure, began feeling around. Pena’s ass lips clamped on his wrist, like a rubber band.

    Inside him, Blanco’s hand gently mapped the new, uncharted territory. Pena’s rectum was like an oven, soft and hot, and wet. And the sphincter felt soft, spasming a little around his wrist. Blanco knew the drugs prevented Pena from the pain, at least now, the pain would come later, when the effect had vanished. His hand went further up, breeching his colon. Blanco could feel the actor’s organs widening to accomodate his fist. He was surprised at how far he was able to dig and how much of his arm was fitting inside regarding this guy had been an anal virgin just two hours ago. Before either of them new it, Blanco was nearly elbow deep inside Pena’s ass.

    Clenching up his fist, Blanco started to fuck Pena’s ass. At first, he slowly withdrew the fist which was not easy to do owing to the tightness of Pena’s fuck hole. The ass lips were forced to stretch as the bodybuilder’s fist passed through it.

    The drugged up guy gave a small yelp – not of pain, but of pure, unrestricted pleasure. His voice cracked. The two men watching and filming the show grinned like some madmen. This was so much fun, breaking the arrogant stud, seeing this mountain of an arm slide in like a hand in a ventriloquist dummy. Repeatedly, Blanco’s fist was fucking Pena’s rectum with no mercy. During the penetration, the fist hit the actor’s prostate several times. Each time this happened, it sent pleasurable tingles down Pena’s naked sweat soaked body. By now Pena could hardly feel any pain.

    “Oh! Fuck me, Sir! Fist my ass! Oh, please deeper!” whimpering, Pena was taking the fisting like a fucking pro.

    Feeling Pena’s various organs, stroking his large intestine. Will followed the actor’s digestive tract, navigating, exploring, pushing his fist up to where the moans came from. If he follwed long enough he could grab his esophagus. Blanco slowly unfolded his fist and allowed his hand to open up inside Pena’s body. He grabbed Pena’s large intestine and massaged it in his grip–gently, softly. It was like making a pre-dough from yeast.

    “Oh holy shit,” the drugged actor managed to say. “You are grabbing my guts! Oh yes! Fuck!” Pena cried, orgasm taking his body over. It happened very fast, Pena’s naked body shook violently. It seemed that his prostate-massage had sent massive orgasmic signal to Pena’s leaking cock. He reached his climax in a spectacular way! With a loud howl, Pena groaned out his orgasm and his entire body shook and shuddered as his cock spurted ropey strings of cum all around him some of the droplets even sprinklling Diego’s and Alcaraz’ chests.

    A mean smirk cracked Blanco’s stoic expression. “Yes, boy,I am grabbing your guts,” he said. „And for what you did, I could give you death penalty, I could crush your intestine, rip out your stomach through your new twat, feed it to you before you bleed to death! But that would be no fun. We will rather have you as our new toy! Just relax!“

    Nothing more needed to be said between them. It was clear who was in charge. From now on it was pure trust that floated between them, as Blanco was sunk elbow-deep into Pena’s vulnerable anus and circling his arm in there. With a careful playfulness, Blanco gave Pena’s innards a firm jiggle, so Diego and Alcaraz could see the skin of his belly stretch. They could even see the noticeable protrusion of Blanco’s massive hand working around the poor guy’s intestines. For a moment they felt pity, but then again, he deserved it. Sexually-thrilled by the sight even Pena now gazed down at his distended abdomen, mesmerized by the prominent bulge in his belly.

    After half an hour of fisting, Blanco finally pulled out of Pena, only to have Diego shove his pre-cum leaking cock up inside the bottom’s gaping, over-stretched butthole and emptying his nutsack of everything it had.

  • My wishing star

    We finally get to the restaurant, I was getting afraid that Clark might have wanted to stop for a blowjob, at least that was the feeling I was getting from his shorts. When he puts me down and chains the bicycle, I am once again stoned by our height difference. My head reaches only a bit higher than his cock, and with his erection his cockhead is probably above me. However, Calrk tries to readjust his monster so it’s not that obvious, it doesn’t really work.

    “Okay Clark, I’m going to the locker room, you can wait around here, I don’t have money to invite you to anything”

    “I’ve already told you, I’m asking for a job”

    “Wait, you were serious?”

    “Yeah, of course”

    “Hahaha, good luck with my boss”

    “What? Do you think it’s funny? I bet I can get the job, easy”

    “Sure, big guy, I’m wining this bet”

    “Okay then, If I win, you’ll have to do one thing I ask of you, no complaining. And if you win, I’ll do what you want”

    “Deal”

    We shake hands, his being ten times bigger than mine. I wonder what would Clark request of me, he is definitely getting dominant, but I know my boss. He is a big fat piece of shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful that he gave me a job, but he only accepted because he is paying me minimum wage and he is getting half of my tips as well. I may as well start thinking of what I could ask Clark to do for me. I would love to fuck his big ass, but I have no dick to do that anymore.

    This thought depresses me. When I’m with Clark it’s easy to accept my new reality, but now that I’m alone in the locker room, looking at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize my reflection. I can only see the top of my body above the sink, with my white hair and grey eyes, wearing the clothes I used as a child. Everything is coming back to me pretty heavily. I start to get undressed to change in to my uniform when I hear the door. It’s my coworker, Randy.

    “Hey there, big boy. Are those new clothes? Hahahah”

    He is an asshole. Clark’s powers make people think I’ve always been like this, but I guess they don’t make it normal.

    “Very funny, Randy”

    “Have some sense of humour bro, I’m just messing with you. I mean, who doesn’t like wall-e. I guess the only difference is that you haven’t grown since they dropped it on cinemas, hahaha”

    I can feel my face turning red. I quickly remove my clothes, wanting to scape wall-e, but I don’t realize it’s goanna be worse until it’s too late. Now I’m only wearing speedos, which are quite tight on my butt, but make it obvious for anyone to see my absence of package.

    “Wow, that’s rich” Randy says looking at me “I would laugh but this is just sad”

    I want to disappear, I try to put my uniform, but it’s just too big, it doesn’t fit. I get nervous, and cold. I start to freak out with Randy looking at me and laughing, I try to look the other way, facing my locker, but I notice him taking photos. Then I hear the door once again, this time is Clark, bringing a bunch of clothes.

    “I got it, Kev! I win!”

    “What!?”

    “Yeah babe, it was easy, told you so. I even got the locker next to yours and this uniform”

    Clark leaves the clothes in the bench next to my locker and kisses my forehead in excitement. Then he starts to undress while explaining how easy it was for him to convince the boss. Apparently, boss liked how directs and confident Clark is, stating that there is always work for a real man. I’m in shock, everything gets colder still in my speedos. I don’t really know how to react.

    “Wow bro, you are HUGE. Who are you?”

    Randy approaches Clark, taking a look not only at his height but also at his soft cock that’s already like 10 “.

    “Hey, I’m Clark, Kevin’s little brother and your new coworker. You?”

    “Hahahaha, his little brother? Hahahaha, wow I’ve heard about you, but I never expected you two to be so different. I’m Randy, it’s nice to meet you”

    “Nice to meet you too, Randy”

    “I guess the younger brother took all the good genes, am I right?”

    Clark looks at me with a smirk in his face. Randy pushes me a bit with his elbow while saying that. When he does this, he immediately moves back like when you get electrocuted.

    “What the fuck Kevin? You are frozen. White hair, cold as fuck and 2 feet tall, who are you, Olaf? Hahahaha”

    I feel so humiliated. Still unable to dress because I don’t want to put back the wall-e t-shirt in front of Randy. I notice a change in Clark face expression.

    “Randy, you are ready, right? Would you leave us?”

    “What? We are having some fun between coworker, don’t be…”

    “I’ve said LEAVE US”

    Clark tower over Randy, even for a regular guy Clark is tall, in addition to his muscles. I feel a heat wave coming from Clark, something weird is happening.

    “Ehm… sure, bro… I mean… boss”

    Randy says before leaving with his tail between his legs. Not even after the door closes, Clark kneels to be face to face, still nude. He grabs my head with both hands. It’s like someone grabbing a coconut for him with those hands.

    “Are you alright?”

    “Not really, I feel humiliated”

    “Not that, I know you like that. I mean physically”

    “What? No, I don’t like that”

    “Kev, I KNOW you like that” he touches my package, I then realize I’m as hard as I can get, maybe I do like being compared with Clark… “I’m talking about you being cold”

    “Well, now that you say it. When I’m with you I’m warm but when we are apart, I get cold all the time, but it’s been cold lately, wight? I’ve seen ice”

    “Babe, it’s almost 80 degrees outside”

    “Really?”

    “Yeah, I think this is a side effect from our bond. I have been sweating a lot and feeling very hot when I’m away from you”

    “You just felt so hot for a moment talking to Randy. What’2 happening?”

    “Normally, when we bond the dominant one takes stuff from his sub, you know that already. On thing we doms also take is heat, to make subs dependant of our temperature. Nothing crazy, but since our case is so extreme…”

    “So now I can’t be on my own?”

    “No, don’t worry. This is temporary, until we adjust to our new bodies. I think you are developing ice abilities, while I have extreme heat” For once I’m getting something out of this exchange, maybe this is actually a good thing “ but…”

    “But?”

    I can see in Clark’s face that I’m not going to like what will come next. Why can’t I have ice powers without a “but”?

    “But, until we can control this, there might be times when we lose control, and we have to be very close for a long time. Specially if you don’t want me to burn down our house”

    “Okay, that doesn’t sound as bad”

    “Great! I thought you wouldn’t like that”

    “I mean, we are already cuddling a lot, I don’t mind that”

    Clark smiles at me, his dirty look and smile, I can’t resist when he gets happy about me showing up affection. It’s hard sometimes, I wasn’t gay and now I’m with the manliest man I have ever seen. But I’m getting used to it.

    “Well, we should get ready to work. I brought you some clothes. I figured yours would not fit”

    “Thanks! I do need them”

    He is such a sweetheart, not even I thought about the clothes, but he did. Clark stands up to give me the clothes. His movement makes his giant cock fly and hit me in the face. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything about it.

    “Luckly, our boss is pretty fat, so I can use some of his clothes”

    At the restaurant we have to wear a green polo and brown cargos with a black belt. Clark puts on the polo, which is still pretty tight, and you can see his pecs and soe hair popping out. Then, he puts on the cargos, but these are cargo shorts, not long trousers. These shorts fit him better than my red sporty shorts, but they are tight as well. You can see the outline of Clark’s cock, specially since he doesn’t have underwear and it’s a bit stiff.

    “Wait, those are shorts, you have to wear long cargos”

    “Boss is fat but not very tall. His cargos weren’t long enough for me, so shorts it is. How do I look?” he spins around showing off his huge ass. The shorts are at limit stretch in his big thighs. I can’t avoid salivating while looking at him, at his hairy legs. One of his calves is bigger than my bicep “That good, eh?”

    “Oh sorry, yeah you look hot”

    “Thanks babe. Now your clothes, hope you don’t get mad”

    “Why would I…”

    I stop talking when I see Clark holding a brown mini skirt. I just stare at him for a moment, I silence.

    “You are joking, right?”

    “Sorry, Kev, they don’t make men trousers small enough for you, and the boss doesn’t have kid size obviously, so woman clothing is the smallest option”

    “But they must have trousers, right?”

    I already know the answer. My boss is quite sexist, so he didn’t bother in making trousers for female employees, that’s probably why there aren’t any women working here. Clak looks at me with a “sorry buddy” expression that doesn’t fool me, he is having fun with this. I give up and take the skirt and a girl polo, which at least is just the usual green polo.

    “You look adorable”

    “Yeah yeah. Having fun, aren’t we?”

    I start getting cold again, even if I’m wearing cloths now.

    “I’m serious. I love to see your tiny hairless legs in those. And with these clothes you will be able to work properly”

    When he makes this comment, I can’t keep myself from comparing our legs. If you could combine both my les in one, one of Clark’s legs would still be way bigger. His tanned skin and dark hair make his muscles look even bigger. Meanwhile, my legs are pale and hairless, with barely any muscle. I’m starting to get horny again.

    “I guess you are right”

    “Aren’t I always”

    Clark pets my head with one of his enormous hands and bends down to kiss me in my forehead before whispering in my ear.

    “I think you look so cute that we can play for a bit before work”

    “Here? Are you mad? If they see us, we are fired”

    “They won’t, don’t worry” with all his mighty strength, Clark stans up and moves one row of lockers to put it in front of the door, sealing the entrance “Besides, I can’t work like this, can I?”

    He says this while holding his package with one hand. The outline of his hard cock goes along right under his belt, almost disappearing behind him. My nostrils get dilatated as I look at his fat sausage of a cock. Clark takes of his polo, revealing his godly torso, with his giant and hairy pecs.

    I’m mesmerized as he comes closer taking out his belt and releasing his beast. When he stops right in front of me, playfully moving his cock to my face without touching it, I have to look all the way up to see his face, god he is so big, we are both standing and still…

    “Enjoy” he says

    Not wasting a second, I start to kiss and lick everything I can reach. Starting with his hairy belly, I move all my face around it like a pig looking for truffles. I take in his scent, so manly, so sweaty. Since he is standing I can’t reach his pecs with my mouth (not even on my tippytoes), so I start touch and squish them with my small hands, unable to hold the entire muscle with one hand. My mouth gets impatient, and I start to lick I kiss Clark’s thighs, bending a bit under him. I get some hair in my mouth, but who cares. Then Clark closes his legs, trapping my head between his gigantic muscles.

    “Uffff, how hard I have to resist not to squish your tiny head. You look so fucking small down there, I can’t barely see you below my pecs and cock. Fuck! You better start sucking, bitch”

     After holding my head tighter and tighter, almost breaking my neck, Clark finally releases me. I start taking air throw my mouth as fast as I can, this made me realize how much I am at his mercy, I’m like a toy for him. But before I can take much air, Clark grabs my head with one hand and pulls me to his gigantic balls.

    “Come on cocksucker, show me what you can do down there. Since you are at my cock level you should get used to kiss me there rather than my mouth. Come on cutie, try to swallow one, yeah go for it”

    After some minutes of worshiping Clark’s balls, the boss starts knocking at the door, calling for us. Clar bends and pulls my speedos down, leaving the mini skirt on. After that, He stands up again, hitting my face with his cock like before, but harder. This time I’m sure it’s been on purpose. Then hi grabs me by my armpits and lifts me like if I weight nothing to him.

    “Okay, let’s finish quickly, shall we cocksucker?”

    Using me like a literal sex doll, Clark puts me upside down, moving my mouth directly to his thick cock and pushing it all the way into my throat. With no hesitation, he starts to fuck my mouth like a beast.

    Not leaving me without any fun, Clark moves my ass to his face. First, he kisses and licks my asshole anxiously, at the same time as he fuck my face. But then his tongue goes further. Once again, our size difference is noticeable, and his tongue feels big in my hole.

    After a while of fucking, not allowing me to breath with his horse cock, Clark cums ate the same time as I have my orgasms. He releases way to much cum.

    “Swallow everything cocksucker” its hard to do being upside down and with his monstruous dick deep into my throat, but I do as ordered.

    Part 5, end.

  • Bromance on the Beach

    Day Four – The Catamaran

    Bryson lay on his stomach, his face turned towards me, his hand tucked up underneath his pillow, his back rising and falling with his steady breath, pale and smooth like marble in the morning light. His face was serene, motionless save for the faintest twitch above his left eyebrow, and for a moment I wondered if he was dreaming. Both of the previous mornings he’d been up and out of bed before me, so this was the first time I’d been able to see him asleep. Something about it felt important and sacred, like a secret I wasn’t supposed to know. 

    I was grateful for this space to watch him, partially because he was beautiful when he slept, and partially because I didn’t know what to expect when he woke up. I’d fooled around with enough straight guys to know that they didn’t always feel the same about things that happened late at night once the sun finally came up. I couldn’t help but worry that Bryson would be no different, that he’d change his mind or feel ashamed or want to pretend things had never happened. I would go along with it, of course, I always did; but I couldn’t deny that a part of me would be devastated, a part of me I usually kept at arm’s length but had somehow found its way to the surface this week.

    “Morning,” he said lazily, his voice husky and warm. His voice had startled me.

    “Hi,” I greeted in return, meeting his eyes. He smiled and slowly rolled over, extending his arms in a slow stretch. I watched him as he moved, observing how his skin pulled tight over his ribcage, how his chest flattened from the usual curvature of his pecs, how his biceps flexed and hardened while he raised his arms above his head. The covers pulled tight across his waist as he turned, exposing a bare hip and just a hint of curly hair, and I realized he was still naked. For some reason, I felt myself blush. “How’d you sleep?” I asked.

    “Amazing,” he sighed contentedly, tucking his arm behind his head. I stared at his armpit, remembering that taste of it on my tongue. “Which, I mean, is no surprise after that.”

    “Yeah?” I couldn’t help but chuckle, relieved he’d already addressed the elephant. “Good. Happy I could help.”

    “Oh, you helped,” he looked at me with a mischievous grin. “Believe me, you helped.”

    Our eyes met, his expression soft. 

    “So…you’re okay with what happened?” I tried to sound casual; it probably didn’t work. 

    “Okay? Of course. I mean, sure, maybe it’s been a bit unexpected, but I’m good.”

    “Okay, good,” I replied, my body relaxing, the relief obvious in my voice. “I just didn’t know what to expect. The morning after, ya know?”

    Bryson’s expression changed as he looked at me. “Tucker,” he said seriously, propping himself up on an elbow to look me in the eye. “We’re good. You and I are always gonna be okay, okay?”

    “Okay,” I said, nodding my head as if that would help me believe him. “I just…I’ve been with a lot of guys who’ve been…” I searched for the right word. “Curious. And it was all fine and good while they were getting off but, afterwards, they still looked at me like…I don’t know, like I’d…”

    “Hey,” he cut me off, laying his hand gently on my chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You know I would’ve stopped you or said something if you’d done anything to make me uncomfortable. You didn’t. I…I liked it.” He looked at me, his cheeks pink.

    “Yeah?” I asked, playfully, the tension dissolving as I saw his shy smile. “You liked it, huh?”

    “It was the best handjob I’ve ever had, okay? You happy?” he whined playfully, flicking my nipple. It hardened at his touch. 

    “I’m pretty happy with that review, I’ll be honest.” I grinned and he rolled his eyes. “But, I’m glad it was good. It was really fucking hot for me, too.”

    “Yeah?” He wore a disbelieving smile. 

    “Hell yes. I love making a guy get off,” I reassured him. He looked down, eyes scanning my bare torso, the bedsheet falling just below the hem of my underwear. 

    “If you say so,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I almost feel bad. I’m just not used to being the center of attention like that.

    “What do you mean?”

    He chuckled, his hand came up and gently traced my collar bone. “Like, in my previous experiences,” he emphasized,” I feel like I’m just concerned about making sure the girl has a good time. Sure, she might go down on me to warm me up and all, but I guess I’m…,” he stared intently at his fingers as they grazed across my chest, “not used to being the object of focus.”

    “Well,” I started, unsure how to respond. “You don’t need to feel bad, it was honestly really hot for me. And besides…” I weighed my words, “you deserve some attention.”

    “Thanks,” he smiled that shy smile that seemed to be the star of the morning. It was a different smile than I was used to seeing, crooked and soft, forming dimples on his cheeks. “You know, I could…take care of you,” he said, his voice thick, his eyes looking down my body where skin and fabric met. “If you want.”

    I smiled and laughed gently. “That’s okay, it was more than enough as it was. You don’t need to pay me back or anything.”

    He paused and steeled himself. “What if…I want to?” His voice shook just a little, and his eyes returned to mine, serious and clear. 

    “Oh.” My mind suddenly went blank. The possibility of getting to touch him had seemed miraculous enough, I’d never even considered the possibility of him wanting to touch me. “Okay.”

    The corner of his mouth raised up in the faintest smile, and he turned his attention to his hand. It slid slowly down my abdomen, crossing onto my briefs and falling lightly on my dick. He gave me a gentle squeeze, and I drew in a breath. He repeated this a few times, squeezing and releasing, adjusting to the feeling of me in his hand, and I began to harden beneath his touch. His palm began to fub slowly up and down my shaft. 

    He pulled away, looking at the bulge of my erection, and then, cautiously, he slipped his fingers beneath the elastic of my briefs, dragging fingertips through my neatly trimmed pubes and onto the base of my cock. He looked back at me, a blush brightening his cheeks. “Can I take these off?” he asked softly. 

    I just nodded, my brain unable to formulate words, my heart melting at his politeness.

    He hooked his fingers around the fabric and began to pull them off, and I reached down to help him. My cock slapped against my stomach and I laid back, fully exposed under his gaze.  For a moment, he just looked at me, his eyes slowly moving over my stomach and groin, and I worried he was doubting himself, getting in over his head. 

    “Damn, Tucker,” he whispered. “I knew you were fit but…Jesus.” He reached out and gently took me in his hand, stroking up and down, moving slowly, cautiously. I laid my knees out wide and pressed up into his hand, shifting my focus between his face and his hand and his face again. He looked focused, determined, and somewhat wonderstruck, as if trying to capture the moment in his mind. 

    “That feels good,” I encouraged, bracing a hand on his shoulder, fingers stroking his neck. He tightened his grip slightly, drawing a moan from my throat and a bead of precum from my dick. I knew after the events of last night I wasn’t going to last long, but I was determined not to end the party too soon. 

    He dragged his thumb over the head of my dick, taking the precum with it, watching it slowly string between me and his hand. He swirled it around, wetting the tip of my dick, slowly stroking back down and cupping my balls in his fingers.

    “How’s it feel?” I somehow managed to ask.

    He continued stroking, his voice steady. “Good. Soft. Well, hard obviously,” he chuckled, “but your skin is so soft.” He switched his grip, his palm grazing down the head and the top of my shaft. I shuddered  and writhed beneath him. “Not all that different from mine, but…at the same time it feels different in my hand.”

    Returning to his normal grip he picked up the pace, and my body responded to his touch. I ground my hips up into his palm. 

    “You like that?” he asked, his voice dark like velvet. 

    “Yeah,” I gasped, my hand tightening around the back of his neck. He began to pump his fist vigorously, and I felt the pressure building rapidly, a long overdue release. “Fuck, Bryson, I’m getting close.”

    “Yeah?” he growled. “You gonna cum for me?”

    Hearing those words pushed me over the edge. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Oh fuck.” I thrust my hips and felt my cock spasm in his hand, my body contracting, shooting ropes of cum up and across my abdomen. I heard myself moaning, and not quietly either.

    “Oh fuck yeah,” Bryson said, marveling at the sight. 

    The shockwave ripped from my toes to my forehead, and I fell back against the pillow, breathing hard. Bryson continued to stroke me as I softened in his hand, a pool of cum laying on my groin. 

    “Goddamn, dude,” Bryson looked at me, impressed. “That was…that was hot.” 

    “Fuck,” I exhaled, looking for better words and finding few. “Yes. Yes it was.” I took a minute to catch my breath, then looked up to see him smiling down at me, his face betraying his satisfaction with himself.

    “Not to pry but do you always cum like that?” he asked, drawing a laugh from me.

    “No, I do not,” I confessed, looking down at the mess I’d made. 

    “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with a smug grin. I rolled my eyes as he wiped his hand absentmindedly on the sheets. He fell back on the pillow, and I felt his shoulder against mine. For a few minutes we just lay there. I was still coming down from the orgasm, and Bryson stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought, his hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. I wanted to speak, to fill the silence somehow, but I couldn’t think of anything to say, and it wasn’t a bad silence, not really. Eventually, I heard my phone vibrate aggressively on the nightstand and reached up to grab it off the charger. 

    “Oh shit,” I said reading my screen. “Breakfast is at 9:30.”

    “What time is it?” Bryson asked, his arm draped lazily across his face. 

    “9:08” I said, and we both laughed. “Big day ahead so we should probably get our stuff ready.”

    “Fair enough,” Bryson groaned. “Besides, I gotta take a leak.” He rolled over me, swung his legs out of bed, and walked naked towards the bathroom, his pale, bare ass shaking a bit with each step. I watched him the whole way, a smile on my face. 

     

    The dock was buzzing with excitement as we got checked in for the catamaran cruise. About 50 or 60 people all stood, huddled in groups, taking selfies and organizing their belongings and slathering themselves in sunscreen. The five of us stood, huddled under an umbrella while Emily dealt with checking us in. She’d found and booked the whole thing, and we happily let her take the lead. Before long she returned with six blue festival wristbands. “We wear these and that gets us into the lunch buffet and the bar once we get to the island,” she explained, handing them out. “So don’t lose it.” We all looked at Tyler.

    “What??” he exclaimed. 

    “Did you even bring a bag?” I asked. 

    “No,” he said, looking at me like I was crazy, “ I didn’t want to drop it overboard.”

    As we boarded the boat, the captain explained the schedule of the day – we’d sail into the bay for a snorkeling, then head to Isla Mujeres for lunch at the beach club, and after a few hours of free time to explore the island we’d sail back to the mainland. We rushed to the front of the boat and secured seats on the corner of the boat’s canvas netting, and as the ship slowly pulled away from its berth, we were all smiles and anticipation. 

    It was nice to spend the day together as a group, intermingling across our respective pairs and having space for a wide range of conversation. I talked to Tyler while Emily caught up with Mitchell while Abigail chatted with Bryson. I’d been a little uncertain whether things between Bryson and I were going to be tense or awkward or different after the events of last night – not to mention this morning – but, unsurprisingly, he acted as if nothing had changed. He’d said things were fine, and I believed him, but old habits die hard and I still felt myself waiting for something to backfire. Fooling around with straight friends never ended well, right?  But so far things were disconcertingly good, and I was starting to think that maybe I needed to chill out. 

    Before we knew it, it was time to snorkel. The crew handed out equipment and walked everyone through the basics. We put on our fins and life vests and waddled to the stern where, one by one, we jumped into the water. The conditions were ideal, the water warm and clear and calm. There were about two dozen people who decided to partake, and though we had to keep to one general area, we had some freedom to explore. 

    Bryson and I stuck near each other, communicating in a jumble of unclear hand signals and muffled sound effects, but somehow we seemed to understand. We swam over schools of fish, through an underwater art installation, and even passed by a few Mayan ruins. At one point we broke the cardinal rule of snorkeling and slipped out of our life vests so we could swim down and touch what looked like the foundation of an ancient building. It was breathtaking. Down there, twenty feet under the water, feeling like a rebellious teenager again, I stared out into the clear blue sea before turning to see Bryson smiling at me from behind his goggles. 

    Nearly an hour later, we climbed back onto the boat, exhausted but exhilarated, and were greeted with news that the bar was officially open. I made my way back to the netting while Bryson and Mitchell got in line for drinks. I dug my sunglasses out of my bag and leaned against the deck of the boat, still catching my breath from all the exertion. Bryson returned a few minutes later, holding two clear plastic cups filled with colorful liquid. 

    “Be warned,” he said ominously, holding one of the cups out to me, “these babies are no joke.”

    “Perfect,” I smiled, taking the cup. Bryson climbed onto the netting, steadying himself with one hand on the deck. 

    As he sat down, he casually dropped his arm over my shoulders and leaned against me, a gesture that walked the line between friendly and romantic in a way that caught me by surprise. His bare torso pressed against mine, warm and wet with droplets of sea water, and I had to fight a reflex to pull away, an instinct that told me this type of contact was too much, far past the unspoken boundaries of gay-straight friendship dynamics. He leaned against me, comfortable and confident, as if this was the most ordinary posture for two friends to take. Maybe for him it was.

    “Salud,” he said, raising his cup. I smiled in reply and tapped my cup to his, taking a sip.

    “Whoa,” I laughed, my face recoiling from the tequila. “You weren’t kidding.”

    We stayed like this, leaning into one another, for the remainder of the ride to the island. At one point, I locked eyes with Abigail who eyed me suspiciously from beneath the wide brim of her hat. I gave an innocent smile and shrugged, feeling her “I told you so” radiate from across the netting, and I fought off the urge to feel self-conscious

     Just yesterday I’d argued that Bryson was straight as an arrow and here we were, getting cuddly on a catamaran. I knew we probably weren’t being subtle; I knew Abigail and Emily would have thoughts; and I knew I’d hear them at some point during the day; but for now I sipped my drink and enjoyed the feeling of the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, and the feeling of Bryson’s bare skin against mine.

     

    The beach club was simple, but nice. The lunch buffet boasted an impressive assortment of food, and the open bar poured a mean hibiscus margarita, of which we had several. After an extended lunch, we made our way out to the private strip of beach just outside the restaurant. The lounge chairs were full, so we dropped our things in the sand. 

    I unbuttoned my shirt and turned to see Bryson pulling his tank top. Even after three days, my stomach fluttered at the sight of him undressing, more so after the events of last night. He looked at me and smirked. 

    “You’re staring,” he said with a cocky grin.

    “So? You’re nice to look at,” I shrugged dismissively.

    He laughed and tossed the sunscreen at me. “Shut up and get my back, will you?”

    “It’s a shame I have to stop with your back,” I said quietly as I massaged the last bit of liquid into his shoulder blades. He snorted a laugh and turned around, grabbing me by the shoulders and spinning me away from him. He began applying sunscreen, his hands sliding up and down my back, free of all the hesitation or uncertainty they’d had a few days ago. 

    “You know,” he whispered into my ear, his voice rough and sexy, “you’re not too bad to look at, yourself.”

    “Glad you think so,” I replied, feeling my cheeks flush. 

    We waded into the water, settling in a nice spot about chest deep, and organized ourselves in a circle, chatting enthusiastically as the tequila kicked in. As I looked around, I was stunned by how picturesque the scene was – the pristine turquoise water capped with the white tips of sailboats, the bright white sand dotted with friendly palm trees and straw-roofed cabanas. As I had the thought that this – this right here – was the closest to paradise I’d ever been, and I was suddenly awestruck by this trip, by my amazing friends, by this life I never thought I’d get to live. 

    “You good?” Bryson asked quietly, apparently noticing that I’d spaced out. He’d scooted closer to me in the water, our shoulders brushing.

    “Yeah,” I smiled. “I’m good. Just admiring the view.” He gave me a knowing smile. “The actual view, you dick.” We both laughed, neither of us pulling away. 

    Eventually, Mitchell announced he was going to make a trip to the bar to “procure more tequila” for he and Abigail. Tyler offered to tag along, as did Bryson. 

    “Want anything?” he asked, turning to me.

    “Hibiscus margarita, please,” I replied, and watched as he exited the water, his mint green swim trunks clinging to his backside. When I turned back, I noticed Abigail and Emily, both eyeing me. “What?” I asked.

    “He’s being extra boyfriendy today,” Emily said with a coy smile. 

    I felt a blush flash across my face. “Yeah, well,” I stalled. “We may have kinda hooked up a little last night…and again this morning.”

    “What??” Abigail exclaimed. Emily pretended to faint, splashing dramatically in the water. “You’re kidding.”

    “I knew it!” Emily pumped a fist into the air. 

    “Calm down,” I said, trying not to beam with pride.

    “So…how was it?” Abigail asked conspiratorially. 

    “It was…” I struggled for words. “It was really freaking good.”

    “Who…did what?” Emily asked. 

    “Em!” Abigail exclaimed, looking scandalized. “You can’t just ask that.”

    I laughed heartily. “It’s fine. It was just hand stuff, but…it was still really good.”

    “Y’all are such a hot couple”, Emily said, though maybe to herself, and I realized the margaritas were definitely catching up to her. 

    “How are you feeling about it?” Abigail asked. 

    “Trying not to overthink it,” I pondered. “Trying to believe it actually happened in the first place. Trying to just enjoy our last twenty-four hours in Mexico.” Then, because I felt obligated to add, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for this trip to become all about me having a fling.” 

    “Oh my goodness, don’t be sorry, this is honestly the most exciting part of this trip,” Emily gushed. 

    “I gotta agree with her on this one,” Abigail chuckled. “You never share any good relationship drama with us, so having a fling with your hot bi-curious coworker is like the best thing we could have ever hoped for.” 

    We all laughed at that one. “Well, I’m happy to provide the entertainment.”

    “If you get together, Mitchell is gonna be so excited. He already wants Bryson to come to Lolla with us.” 

    I just rolled my eyes. 

    A few minutes later, the boys returned, six hibiscus margs between them. They looked giddy as they splashed their way back towards us. Mitchell came up behind Abigail and wrapped his arms around her, handing her a marg and kissing her sloppily on the cheek. 

    “What happened to you guys,” she asked, startled. 

    “He gave us shots,” Mitchell said excitedly. 

    Tyler put an arm under Emily’s shoulders, and she reclined into him. Bryson looked at me, his cheeks pink, though whether from a blush, a sunburn, or the alcohol I couldn’t be sure. He handed me my drink. 

    “What, no shot for me?” I asked. 

    “Guess you had to be there.” He shrugged, flashing his boyish smile.  

    We stood there in our circle, weightless in the water, our chests rising and falling gently with the waves. Amidst the uncharacteristic PDA of my friends, a surge of longing rushed through me. I fought it off as best I could, trying to distract myself when I felt a hand on the small of my back. I looked at Bryson, and he smiled a little awkwardly, but I took a step in towards him and felt his arm hook around my chest, his hand falling on my ribcage, his thumb just below my nipple. 

    I waited for it to feel weird, uncomfortable or exposed here in front of my friends – I’d never dated anyone long enough to bring them around before, and so, while I was out to everyone I knew, they’d never actually seen me with another guy, much less do anything affectionate. But it never did. Feel weird, that is. It felt good, freeing if a little unexpected. Bryson and I had gone from drunken kisses to public displays of affection pretty quickly, and my brain was working overtime to process the progression.  But then again, we’d never shied away from touching before – usually quick, casual gestures after we’d been drinking, gestures like a friendly pat on the shoulder or a gentle hand on the forearm – so, in a way, this felt like a natural next step. 

    And so, taking this as sufficient justification, I let myself relax against his hip and laugh at Tyler’s horrible dad jokes and be okay with the fact that, maybe for one afternoon, standing under a cloudless, blue sky in the warm, clear waters of the Caribbean, it was okay if things felt too good to be true. Maybe, for one afternoon, that didn’t matter.

     

    The boat ride back to the mainland was a party. The speakers blasted all sorts of hits you’d expect to hear at any respectable college fraternity party, and tequila shots were passed out like candy on Halloween. We were all feeling the effects of bottomless margaritas, and the pulsing beat of the music and general chaos of the boat made my head spin. Bryson and I leaned against the railing at the bow of the boat, arms pressed against each other with the same casual contact that had made up much of our day. Behind us, a horde of people danced and drank and enjoyed the reverie, but we were quiet, tired from the long day of sunshine and tequila. 

    Back at the resort, we grabbed dinner at the buffet, riding the downhill slope that always comes after day drinking, and watching the sunset from our table on the terrace. The conversation was slow and easy, each of us wanting to savor the feeling of our last night in paradise. The sky turned deep shades of orange, gold, and violet, and we raised our glasses in a toast.

    “To a great trip,” Mitchell said.

    “And great friends,” Emily added.

    “Old and new,” Abigail said with a smile, gesturing towards Bryson.

    He took a sip, thought for a second, and raised his glass again. “I just wanted to say thank you all for a wonderful time. I wasn’t sure what to expect hanging out with a group of strangers for five days – I’m not usually that bold with my social choices. But I figured, if you were friends with Tucker, you must be pretty special. And I was right. You guys made me feel so welcome and like such a part of everything, and I’ve just had the best time. Tucker is lucky to have you, and I’m really grateful that I got to meet you all. So…thank you.”

    We raised our glasses again, as everyone poured out compliments at Bryson.

    “You’re welcome to join anytime, man,” Tyler said.

    “You’re lucky you found Tucker,” Abigail smiled warmly. “He’s a good one.”

    “We’re lucky Tucker found you,” Emily joked. 

    Bryson looked at me, his eyes radiating in the twilight, and we smiled.

    “Glad you’re here, buddy,” I said, and we clinked our glasses.

    “So…Tucker invited you to Lolla, right?” Mitchell asked excitedly. 

     

    “Jesus, I need a shower,” I said as we walked into the room, tossing my back on the floor. “You need in the bathroom first?”

    “Nah, go for it,” Bryson replied. 

    I cleaned up, savoring the feeling of warm water washing the salt and sand and sunscreen from my body. I washed my crotch especially well, unsure what to expect from the night ahead, and made sure to get my ass nice and clean – if only for wishful thinking.

    I returned to the room wrapped in a towel as Bryson went into the bathroom behind me. Fishing my phone out of my bag, I plopped down on the bed and began scrolling through the day’s pictures – one group shot of us sitting on the netting of the catamaran, a few pics of us gathered round the lunch table at the beach club, and a few slightly blurry, definitely sloppy shots of the return trip. One picture caught my eye though. Bryson had taken it, one arm holding the camera high, his other arm wrapped around my bare shoulder, our heads pressed close together. We both wore the biggest smiles. 

    “Man, that feels better,” Bryson sighed as he walked back into the room. He was wearing his towel, too, and as he got to the foot of the bed he stopped. I set my phone on the nightstand beside me and met his gaze. He didn’t look away.

    “You’re staring,” I said flatly.

    “So? You’re nice to look at,” he replied, using my words from earlier, but without any of the sarcasm. His face was blank, his voice steady, his eyes bore into mine. 

    “Well,” I took a fortifying breath, and shrugged casually. “You could do more than just look…if you wanted.”

    “Yeah?” he asked, frozen in place.

    “Yeah.” Holding his gaze, I unwrapped the towel from my waist and spread my legs just slightly. My dick was still hanging loose after the warm shower, my balls nice and low, and I watched Bryson’s eyes trace down my body. He swallowed hard. 

    His hands went to the towel at his waist, unfastening it, letting it fall to the floor. For a moment he just stood there, and we both stared openly, taking in the full view of each other’s bodies. He was magnificent. His broad shoulders and massive chest tapered down to his hips where faint v-lines gave way to a mound of strawberry blonde pubes, beneath which hung his cock, plump and thick and mouthwatering, a set of impressive balls. He looked strong, athletic, powerful, all the things that contrasted with what I knew of his kind, gentle nature. My stomach turned over on itself as I took in the sight before me, Bryson in his nakedness, putting it all on display before me. Me, of all people. Once more I felt like I was being trusted with something important, something special. Something that was only for me.

    “Jesus, Bryson,” I muttered under my breath, meeting his eyes once again. They shone with desire. “You’re…beautiful.”

    Silently, he put his knees on the mattress and began to crawl slowly up the bed towards me, his eyes devouring me as he went. He fell onto his side, leaving the tiniest fraction of an inch between us, and brought his face to mine, hovering just inches away. His eyes burned with heat but his smile was kind. 

    “Hi,” he said. 

    “Hi,” was my shaky response. He looked at me for what felt like a long time, his eyes dancing over my face; then, gently, he leaned in to kiss me. It was slow and patient, the kind of kiss you savor, our lips moving in rhythm together, our tongues lightly caressing. We’d both sobered up after the long day, our bodies tired but relaxed. I felt it in the way he touched me, like he was in no rush, like we had all night to enjoy ourselves. 

    His hand found its favorite resting spot on my ribcage as mine rested on the side of his face, pulling him in against me. My fingers slipped into his hair, thick and still slightly damp, and he sighed against my mouth. “You can play with my hair all you want,” he murmured between kisses. 

    “Noted,” I chuckled, sliding my fingers deeper in, grabbing a handful. His hand slid around my back, his hand traveling up to the base of my neck, and he pulled me against him. I dropped my hand to his back and down to his hip, rubbing it over the bare, smooth skin of his ass and down his thigh. Our kiss intensified, our hips pressing against each other, our stiffening cocks grazing. 

    I pushed him onto his back and rolled atop him, pressing every available inch of my body against his. His body was warm, his chest hair tickled my skin, and I could feel his cock pressing against my hip. Slowly, I ground my hip against his, moving in small, gentle circles, eliciting a satisfied moan from his throat. His hands explored my back confidently, fingers digging into my shoulder blades, hands squeezing my ass. 

    I kissed his neck and jaw, licking and biting and sucking at every inch of his soft, pale skin, and he brought a hand up into my hair. I positioned my hips so that his cock was directly next to mine and began to thrust, feeling the friction of his skin and his pubic hair, feeling him rub against mine. 

    “Shit,” he moaned. 

    “Feel good?” I asked.

    “Yeah,” he sighed, “surprisingly so.”

    Wanting to up the ante, I sat up, my legs straddling his thighs, and put my cock directly on top of his, gripping both of them in my hand. He watched me as I began to stroke and rock my hips, our cocks sliding against one another in my fist. 

    “Fuck, dude,” he said, his eyes brightening. “This is hot.”

    “Yeah? Good. I always like it.” I said, a wicked grin flashing across my face. “Here, spread your legs.” He eyed me with some hesitance. “I’m not gonna do that, just trust me.” He spread his legs and I centered myself between them. I spat onto my hand and used it to grease up both our cocks, and with some better leverage from the new position, resumed jerking us both off. He watched our cocks intently, his mouth ajar, his face flushed, his hips starting to press up to mine. 

    “I didn’t know this was a thing,” he said breathlessly. 

    “I told you,” I laughed. “Sex is more than just the one thing.”

    He brought his hands up to my face and kissed me, a breathless, desperate kiss. I sucked on his tongue as it breached my mouth, and he took my lip between his teeth, and we were a mess of lips and tongues and hands.

    I broke away and kissed down his jaw, down his neck and chest, stopping at each nipple, eliciting enthusiastic moans from each. I continued down his stomach, kissing around his belly button and following the trail of hair that led to his groin. I kissed lightly around the edge of his pubes, feeling the soft skin of his hip against my mouth, working my way to his inner thigh. His legs spread a little wider, almost instinctively, and I could hear his breathing, ragged and sharp, and his cock twitched next to my face.

    Gently, I kissed his balls, licking them in a slow, smooth stroke, taking one on my mouth. They were smooth, which was surprising given the state of his bush. I inhaled the scent of him, warm and musky, spicy from his body wash, and I caressed his ball with my tongue. His face was glazed over but his eyes were sharp, watching my every move. After I felt I’d got him nice and warmed up, I dragged my tongue slowly up his shaft. I swirled it around his head and kissed my way down one side before kissing up the other, teasing him, showing him what it really felt like to get your cock sucked by someone who wanted it, and then finally, took him in my mouth. 

    He let out an uninhibited moan as he watched his cock slowly disappear between my lips. I took only a few inches at first, coming back up, licking his crown before sinking down an inch further. My guess last night had been pretty spot on – he had to be near seven inches, and was decently thick, with a protruding vein that ran the top of his shaft. It wasn’t an easy size to take, but I was up for the challenge, and I savored the feeling of it as it slid and out of my mouth, slowly working its way to the back of my throat. Settling in, I took him all the way to the base of his cock, my nose nestling in his pubes. His hands found the back of my head, fingers lacing in my hair.

    “Fuck, dude,” he gasped. “You’re really good at this.”

    I came off his cock, laughing, spit stringing out from my lip. “Lots of practice,” I laughed, stroking him with my hand. “Besides, it’s pretty easy to tell what you like.”

    I dove back in, sucking and slurping and bobbing while he moaned above me. His hands stayed in my hair, not forcing my movements or applying pressure; mostly hanging on for the ride. Each time he hit the back of my throat he moaned or cursed or laughed, a kind of lighthearted laugh of disbelief that made my heart flutter and my dick throb. I could tell I was blowing his mind, and it felt fucking amazing. 

    “Fuck. Dude. I’m.” He uttered between breaths. “Gonna. Don’t. Want. Not. Yet.”

    I pulled off and looked at him, a proud – possibly smug – smile on my face. “Not ready to call it quits?”

    “Hell no,” he sputtered. “Want you”

    He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up towards him, turning me and pushing me onto the pillows with surprising efficiency. I was surprised – and more than a little excited – at how easily he could throw me around. Kissing me deeply, he hooked a knee between my legs and spread them apart and began to kiss down my chest. He moved steadily, like walking along a precarious edge, afraid of making a wrong step. He reached my groin and ran his palm along my upper thigh, across my pubes, gripping my cock and lifting it up off my stomach. He looked at me, his eyes nervous.

    “I can’t promise this is going to be any good,” he said, shyly.

    I smiled. “Dude, just seeing you like this is…the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He smiled, a bit relieved. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna grade you or anything.”

    Staring at my cock, brow creased with concentration, he slowly lowered his head and took me in his mouth. He was wet and warm, his tongue sliding against the underside of my head. He only took a couple of inches, closing his mouth gently, careful to avoid any teeth, moving his head slowly up and down. 

    “That’s good,” I sighed, putting a hand in his hair. “That feels really good, man.”

    Encouraged, he pulled away and licked me from base to tip, sending a shudder through my body. Smiling at my response, he did it again, and took me back in his mouth, going a little deeper. I wasn’t as big as him, only about six-and-a-half inches, and definitely skinnier than his, but I knew it was still a challenge for someone’s first time. As he pressed lower, I heard a gag and he pulled away, his eyes watering.

    “Sorry,” he coughed, but I just chuckled. 

    “Dude, it’s okay, you can take it easy. There’s no pressure.” He caught his breath for a second, his hand stroking me absentmindedly. “Thoughts?” I asked.

    “It’s…not what I expected?” he replied. 

    “How so?”

    “I don’t know, it’s…I expected it to taste like something?” he admitted, and we both laughed. “But it just…tastes like skin. It tastes like your lips. It takes up more space than I expected. You’re kind of  a mouthful,” he flashed a devilish grin.

    “Uh, you should try sucking that monster you’re packing,” I teased back.

    “Yeah, I’m honestly so much more impressed now,” he laughed, settling back into position. He went back to work, noticeably more relaxed. With one hand he supported himself, and with the other he began to massage my balls.

    “Fuck Bryson, your mouth feels  so good,” I moaned. “That’s it, relax your jaw, open your throat, there you go.” He took the pointers and before long took my entire length, his nose bruising against my pubic mound. He picked up the pace, and I watched in awe. In all my wildest fantasies, I never imagined Bryson slobbering over my dick like this, and I could tell it wouldn’t be long before I blew. “Whoa, okay. I’m getting close,” I said, pulling him off me. 

    He lurched forward and kissed me, a fervent, ardent kiss, collapsing on top of me. I laughed at his sloppy, uncoordinated enthusiasm, feeling again like a teenager fooling around for the first time. My heart – much like my cock – threatened to burst with every touch, I felt like all I wanted was more of him near me, on top of me, inside me. 

    “Here. I have an idea. Lay this way,”  I gestured across the bed lengthwise. As he moved his head to my side of the bed, I flipped around so that my face was just about level with his hips. He looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, too cliche?” I asked.

    He grinned. “No. I’m just realizing that, for all the adolescent jokes, I’ve never actually sixty-nined before.”

    “Well,” I said, grabbing his cock and pointing it towards my mouth. “We can add it to your list of firsts.”

    It was a challenge to take him in my mouth from this angle, his girth really coming into play, but as soon as I felt his mouth on me I knew I’d find a way to make it work. So, taking a deep breath, I dove in, devouring his cock, slobbering like an animal, my hands traveling down and up and in between his thighs. He responded with equal fervor, his mouth attacking my cock with impressive skill for a beginner. I came up for air and decided to focus on his balls, licking and sucking them, and then, because I cannot help myself, moved them to the side and began to lick his taint. He moaned, his mouth vibrating around my cock and I felt him pull back.

    “Fuck, dude, do that again.” I obliged, licking his taint and massaging it with my tongue. “Shit, Tucker.” Hearing my name in his deep, baritone growl sent a shiver up my spine and I descended on his cock again, determined to make him see stars. To his credit, he continued to work on me, sucking and stroking and licking until I heard his breathing get ragged. “Dude, I’m getting close.” He jerked me off while he moaned and cursed, but I kept going. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, dude. Shit, I’m coming.”

    His cock spasmed and I felt him unleash into my mouth. He moaned loudly, his pleasure raw and unabashed, his hips pressing into me, his back arching in ecstasy, and with one more stroke of his hand, I broke loose, my cock twitching as I unloaded. He shot at least a half-dozen ropes of cum down my throat, some of which was spilling out of my mouth while I sucked him clean of every last drop. My body writhed as he continued to squeeze and massage my cock, his head falling back against the mattress. I finally pulled away, impressed he was still hard, and fell back, my chest heaving. 

    For a few minutes, we stayed like that, breathing deeply, unable to speak, our limbs tangled as our heart rates slowed. He was the first to speak.

    “Holy shit.” He sounded amazed. I laughed, feeling more accomplished than I cared to admit. 

    “Yeah,” I agreed. “That was…that was something else.”

    I felt his weight shift and raised my head to see him looking at me. “Was it really good for you, too?”  he asked, sounding curious and a little surprised. “I feel like I didn’t do that much.”

    “Fuck yeah, dude. Are you kidding? That was…God, you’re so hot,” I laughed. He blushed, and I sat up, swinging around to lean my head against his, ducking in to kiss him. As we pulled apart, I looked down at his chest and saw it completely coated in my cum. It ran down his collarbone and dampened his chest hair. “Damn, I made a mess of you, huh?”

    He looked down and blushed harder. “A little bit. I wanted to, ya know…try to swallow it but…I don’t know, I think I blacked out there for a second.”

    “Don’t apologize, you didn’t have to do anything if you didn’t want to.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “And besides, it’s kind of hot seeing you like this.” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at me.

    “Yeah?” he asked. “Is it always this messy?”

    “What do you mean?” 

    “I guess I’m not used to this.” He looked down at his abdomen. “When I’m with a girl, I’m usually wearing a condom so…I don’t know, I just cum in that and pull it off  and throw it away. I never really see it. But this is the third time that at least one of us has ended up completely covered in cum.”  He laughed. 

    “Fair point,” I conceded. “I don’t know, it isn’t always this messy. Depends on what you’re doing, I guess. Like, sometimes it’s just oral and swallow or sometimes you cum when you’re, ya know, inside somebody. And I wear condoms too, ya know, I’m not completely irresponsible.” He chuckled and laid back, his head falling on his bicep. I mirrored his posture, my finger drawing circles on his chest. “But I don’t know, personally, I enjoy it when there’s a mess.”

    “How so?” he asked.

    “Well, I’ll put it this way. When a girl cums, you don’t necessarily see it. You see signs of it – the way her body moves and contracts, the way her breathing changes, the expressions on her face – but with a guy…you see it. On top of all those signs, you get to see the fireworks. It is obvious and visible and messy, and…maybe it’s just me, but I love watching that moment happen. It’s like…getting to admire my handiwork.” I scraped a drop of cum off Bryson’s chest with my finger and put it in my mouth. He watched me, transfixed. 

    “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Sounds kinda kinky when you put it that way.”

    “It is kinky, for sure,” I laughed. “But I am sorry, I did make a mess of you, and if you don’t like it, I won’t be offended. I should’ve given you more warning.”

    “I seem to remember you had your mouth full,” he quipped, flashing a wicked grin. “And it’s alright. I really don’t mind it.” He brought his own hand up to his chest, dragging his fingers through a damp patch of chest hair. For a second, he looked at his hand, inspecting it, evaluating it. Then he licked it clean. His face was neutral for a second before his eyes met mine. “My handiwork, I suppose.”

    I stuttered, my jaw slack and my cheeks flushed as I watched him lick my cum off his fingers. He must have noticed my dumbstruck expression, because he laughed. “I do think I need to wipe off, though.” 

    He climbed off the bed and went to the bathroom to get a towel. As I lay there, I tried to process the fact that I’d had two of the best orgasms of my life today just from Bryson touching me. I’d had a lot of sex that just felt nothing like this, that was just going through the motions, but this felt like something more. Maybe it was the novelty, maybe it was the taboo of fooling around with a curious friend, or maybe it was just the magic of of Mexico, but at some point the idea had been planted that this is what it was supposed to feel like, having sex with someone, learning the ins and outs of his body, making him turn to jelly at your touch. At this notion, my chest got tight and reality came crashing back down on top of me: tomorrow we were going home, and this would all be over.

    Bryson turned off the lights as he walked back to bed, pulling back the covers and sliding in quietly. I turned off my lamp and nestled under the sheet, turning on my side towards the center of the bed. Trying to quiet my mind, I felt Bryson turn towards me in the dark, felt his face close against mine, and then his hand reached out and found its spot on my side. I inched closer to him in the dark, my forehead resting against him, and he leaned forward to kiss me lightly on the lips. For a while, we lay there in silence, trading empty words for the subtle sound of our breath, of bare skin moving against fabric as we pulled closer together. And then, at some point, in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets, we drifted off to sleep.

  • Your Cock Is My God

    Do you like to suck a penis? Do you like to face-fuck a guy? Do you like to shove your dick in a man’s ass hole? If you answered Yes to all three questions, you are in perfect health. Ernest, 56, is not only in perfect health, he’s in love… with his cock. Ever since he discovered the pleasure of cumming, he placed what is at the center of his body on an altar for other guys to worship it.

    Ernest is from South Carolina, USA. When he was a teenager, a gay classmate was harassed and called cocksucker. He managed to meet discretely the so-called faggot, to pull down his zipper, and to let the boy suck the already full-grown perfect virile appendage. At the time, a penis was usually called a cock, a dick, a shaft or a rod amongst a circle of close friends. Because Ernie was so infatuated by the male organ, he started to read about it and to make a list of popular nicknames.

    Those associated with food popped up easily: banana, zucchini, sausage, kebab, baguette, corn dog, cucumber, yam. He liked “cinnamon roll” and “yoghurt pistol”. Since Ernie’s cock measures 7.5 inches (19 cm) and since he likes to play with big toys, he easily drew a list of names referring to a mammoth size: Titan, Priapus, Hercules, Colossus, King Kong, Stonehenge, Stallion or Leviathan (sea serpent). Remembering a toy of his childhood, Ernie added the nickname “Jack in the Box”. He even went as far as honoring a well-known American poet and naming his cock “Long fellow”, usually written in one word: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882).

    Over the years and after extensive research, Ernie discovered that there are more than 800 words for penis in the popular language[1]. Mount Vesuvius obviously refers to the ropes of creamy jizz that your cock can produce. If you’re a Top, you will appreciate calling your dick a Screwdriver, a Hard Drive, a Missile, a Commander or a Packer. If you’re a monarchist, names like King Richard, King size, King scepter or King sword easily pop up. All these nicknames have taken me away from the main subject here: Ernie’s cock.

    It is cut, straight (no pun intended, lol), thick, veiny and simply awesome. The first time I saw it, I could not believe how the shaft, mushroom and balls were well-proportioned. If Michelangelo had modeled his David on Ernie’s dick, guys would camp outside the Academia Gallery of Florence (Galleria dell’Accademia di Firenze) to admire the legendary work of art. Guards would have had a hard time stopping gay men from sucking David on the premises.

    I met Ernie at The Capital Club, a gay gathering place in Columbia, South Carolina. Its leather sofas and eclectic artwork attract a diverse clientèle. We are both standing in front of the long bar, Ernie is a position that showcased an arousing bulge. He notices my obvious interest and offers me a drink, followed by a very direct question: “Any cock fetish?” I reply spontaneously: “I like guys who wear a jockstrap.” His eyes light up, his smile blossoms, his leg rubs against my thigh, his left hand grips my wrist, and his right hand lowers the zipper to reveal a white Bike jockstrap in its full splendor. “Holy fuck! I would love to be on my knees to worship that bulge.”

    My remark triggers an invitation to his place, to his condo filled with phallic artworks. A black frame is centered above the fireplace, with the following text in white capital letters like the most succulent sperm:

    LET US STROKE TOGETHER!
    LET US PISS TOGETHER!
    LET US SUCK TOGETHER!
    LET US EDGE AND GOON TOGETHER!
    LET US FUCK TOGETHER!
    LET US CUM TOGETHER!
    LET US BE A BROTHERHOOD OF MEN
    WHO LOVE COCK WITHOUT LABELS!
    IN COCK WE ARE MEN, THE CARRIERS OF GOD!

    As I read this, Ernie strips to exhibit his jam-packed pouch. You have no idea how excited I am to see small stains of sweat, piss and cum on his Bike jockstrap. I immediately bury my face in the mesh fabric to get intoxicated. I start to nibble his rod and his balls, feeling the powerful expansion of his almighty dagger. I slowly slide the jockstrap down to swallow his cock hungrily, gluttonously, giving rise to moans of pleasure. For those of you who have read some of my Gay Demon stories, you already know that I adore eating a guy’s ass. Ernie’s butt is firm, with dimples and a trace of hair in the crack. I lose no time to sniff his crevice, tickle his hole with my tongue, continuing downward to reach the balls and to pull back his dick that I lick feverishly from behind. Sniffing his ass hole while worshipping his cock gets me so hard and juicy.

    For Ernie, having his cock worshipped means that it must find a welcoming receptacle, a hot tabernacle. My ass hole is too tight but I’m known to have a big mouth, so to speak, and a gift to pump man juice. I encourage Ernie to slap his dick on my tongue, on my cheeks, left and right, to treat me like a whore, to shove his rod deep inside my throat. I’ve never had a cock so finely chiseled in my mouth, so pulsing, so eager to shoot a big load of creamy jizz. The sloppy sounds of sucking are like a symphony, like The Pomp and Circumstance Marches of Sir Edward Elgar. Worshipping a cock is welcoming the seeding notes, tasting the creaminess of the melodious jizz, swallowing the rhythm cum as if it were Holy Communion.

    “Ernie, your almighty cock is now my only God. I promise to never look for a substitute. Only you can make me enter into the Brotherhood of men who appreciate, honor and adore the most exquisite trademark of Virility!”


    [1] https://giggeli.com/blogs/news/800-terms-for-the-penis