Author: admin

  • Fifteen Years

    PRESENT DAY

     “Tyler just phoned me, don’t worry, they have landed safely and are already on their way here. Oh Justin, thank God you’re here, please do your old mother a favour and boil the water for the coffee that it’s ready for when they get here? There just isn’t enough time for everything to be done this time of the year! It’s Christmas in two days!”

    Justin Simmons smiled his classic, signature sexy grin that he knew he possessed and hugged his mother from behind in a pathetic attempt to calm her down.

    Fuck knows, she ALWAYS gets like this around Christmas and New Year’s and no matter how much himself, his husband and their two kids, or even his brother Tyler and his family wanted to help, their mother had always insisted on doing all the preparations and the cooking herself.

    “Hands off, this is my kitchen!” was heard at least three times a day in their household, but Justin knew it was her way of making sure she was still able to give her family a traditional Christmas lunch.

    “Oh, give over!” Belinda Simmons laughed as she playfully pushed her youngest son away from her as she stormed off to somewhere in the house, and within seconds finding something else to do.

    That was their mother alright, and quite frankly, neither himself or Tyler would have wanted it any other way.

    “Dad, can you please talk to Gina, she refuses to share her sweets with me!” his thirteen-year-old son Matthew, or Matt for short, moaned as soon as he stepped into the room that the twins was sharing for the time they were back at home for the holidays.

    The same room that Tyler and he used to share when they were kids.

    “Gina, what did I say about sharing?” Justin sternly said towards his daughter, who rolled her eyes in complete and utter disgust.

    “That is so unfair! Matt ate his yesterday, so why should I share mine with him? He SO wouldn’t have done it, if was the other way around!” she nastily lambasted her twin brother, who proceeded to pull several devilish faces towards his sister the moment that he thought Justin couldn’t see.

    Justin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

    He loved both of his children dearly, and holy shit knows, himself and his husband Jack went through mountains of paperwork and interviews to have finally adopted them years before, but sometimes…especially this time of the year to be precise, there was other things that was wracking his brain.

    Things…that he couldn’t possibly talk about with Jack.

    To be fair…things that he couldn’t possibly discuss with anyone.

    Things that his family wouldn’t understand, even if they saw it with their own damn eyes.

    “Gina, tell you what, why not share yours with your brother for now, and I’ll make sure to buy you some more when we get to the shops later okay? I’m sure Uncle Tyler, Aunt Yvonne and your nieces would love to go and see a movie or something tonight, so we’ll do it then. Okay?” he pleaded with his two children, before Matt smirked at his sister.

    “See? They have always loved me more!”

    “DAD!”

    Justin begged for patience.

    “Matt, I’m only going to say this once…stop that immediately, or I’m changing the WIFI password. Do we understand each other?”

    Jesus.

    Kids these days…threaten to take away their connections to the outside world and they are eating out the palm of your hand.

    “Okay…sorry Dad. Just…anything but that, please!” Matt begged, his bright blue eyes perfectly complimenting his lavish, unblemished boyish face and his blond hair that was falling all over his forehead.

    If not for his blond hair, to Tyler’s jet-black the two of them would have been twins.

    Gina crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

    “Oh yes, of course, we cannot have that! Otherwise, you cannot talk to ANDREA, now, can you?”

    If looks could kill, we would have totally been digging Gina’s grave right now.

    “Andrea?” Justin turned to his son, lifting his eyebrows in mocking level of shock.

    Of course, he knew who Gina was talking about but he couldn’t resist in teasing his boy just a tad.

    Matt’s face currently resembled what could only be described as an overripe tomato.

    “I can’t believe you! This is WAR! You won’t be so smug when I put your passport photo on Tiktok!” he shouted back, followed by an incredibly hysterical Gina going after her brother, faster than Justin have ever seen her run before.

    He knew Matt wouldn’t really go that far. The twins have always been tight, ever since their biological parents died in a car crash several years before Justin and Jack had adopted them, so he knew they loved each other…they just didn’t like to actually show it.

    “Trouble in paradise?” he heard Jack whispered as he smiled, knowing what was coming.

    Jack hugged his husband from behind and softly kissed his neck.

    “Not here, not with my mother in the house, babe…” Justin whispered back, but also did nothing to stop his husband from showing affection as he always tended to do.

    “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Jack whimpered against his ear, sending several shivers across the levels of his skin.

    “Uhm…lemme think…this morning in bed when you fucked me?” Justin smiled and leaned back into his husband.

    “What time is your brother Tyler and his family going to be here?”

    “Mom said they phoned earlier, and they will be here soon.”

    Jack turned him around so that he was facing him, and planted a kiss on Justin’s lips, softly and tenderly as he always did.

    “Enough time for us to be alone for a couple of minutes before the house REALLY gets crowded…” he said, kissing Justin deeply and lovingly.

    Once he released the lips of his husband, he pressed their foreheads together in a total sign of unison.

    “Babe…you know I don’t like it when you do that…makes it feel…weird as hell,” Justin sighed as he pulled away from Jack.

    “Yeah, why is that? I love you, Justin…all I wanna do is show it,” Jack said, his voice quivering at the sound of Justin’s voice.

    Justin took the sides of his husband’s face inside both of his hands.

    He looked at him…REALLY looked at him.

    His heart just wasn’t in it.

    It never really had been, and he crusified himself for it every…single…God…damn…day.

    And not for the first time since they had been married, Justin yearned for more.

    Much, much more.

    Unfortunately, what he needed, and what he craved especially this time of the year, was something that his husband would never, ever be able to give him.

    Through no fault of his own.

    He just…

    …he just wasn’t Tyler.

    **

    FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

     “Look kids, I know this has come as a massive shock…”

    Eighteen-year-old Justin stood up and at that point and time REALLY wanted to pick something up and throw it against the expensive kitchen tiles, but having heard that they had to sell their house and move to a smaller suburb, and therefore also a smaller house, he had to do his best not to FREAK OUT more than he had already done.

    “What the hell, Dad? What gives? I thought we were rich!” he screamed at his father, who was sitting at the kitchen table complete with his head in both of his hands.

    “Dude! Fucking hell, give Dad a break! Didn’t you hear when he said that he was being let go from his job? That’s not his fault; he fucking did his best! Blame the idiot company that he’s been slaving all these years for! Everything ain’t always about you! Jesus!”

    Justin snapped around and stared at his older brother in a mixture of hatred and disgust. His fists were balled next to his body and he shook his head, looking over towards their mother as he did so.

    “Mom? Really? You’re just gonna stand there and allow this? This is the house me and Tyler grew up in! And now we have to sell it because Dad fucked up? How unfair is that? No, scratch that, it’s total BULL SHIT, that’s what it is!”

    Their mother held up the palm of her right hand, and she stared at her youngest son in the way that only an angry mother could ever do.

    “Justin, hear me out when I say, that I support your father in everything he does, and I have NO DOUBT that he will land back on his feet again and sooner than you and Tyler probably think…”

    “Hey, why drag me into this? I told you I’m on Dad’s side?” came the scathing reply from Tyler.

    Justin showed his brother the finger before he through his hands in the air as dramatically as he could.

    “We have to leave all our friends here…and move to some God-awful little apartment building on the other side of town? And all because DAD says so?”

    “JUSTIN!” thundered their father as he finally remembered he had a pulse, and stood up and placed both of his big hands on the shoulders of his youngest son, looking him straight in the eye.

    “I didn’t plan this, you ungrateful little shit! I have always made it my life’s mission to take care of not only your ass, but your mother and your brother too! Forgive me that I never ONCE expected that I would lose my job after being the TOP SALESMAN for two decades straight! Do we understand each other!? DO YOU HEAR ME, JUSTIN?”

    Justin shuddered as he felt the force of his father’s desperation, in his heart of hearts knowing that he had probably gone too far. He swallowed his pent-up saliva that had been accumulating inside his throat, before he sighed and stepped away from his dad.

    “If we are going to be living in a smaller house…”

    “Apartment, jackass. Keep up!” came the incessant taunt from Tyler.

    Justin closed his eyes and prayed for peace.

    “If we do this, Tyler is going to have to give me privacy. I’m used to my space and…”

    “Oh brother, we all know you jack off; it’s really not a secret anymore…”

    “OH MY GOD, TYLER! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

    That was the moment Belinda Simmons decided seemingly that enough was enough. She pulled both of her sons apart when Justin looked like he wanted to rip Tyler’s head from his body, before she stood firmly between them, trying to calm the situation the fuck down.

    “That is it. I have had it! Justin…your father is absolutely right. You are indeed an ungrateful little shit! You have NEVER wanted for anything in this house and at the first sign of trouble, suddenly your father is the worst person on the face of this planet!”

    “Tell him Mom!”

    “And YOU are just as bad! Tyler, you’re supposed to be the older sibling, but instead you are actively taunting Justin at every turn, making everything that much worse than it already is! NO! this stops now!”

    Belinda Simmons took a huge breath, before she nonchalantly continued.

    “And by the way, Justin, you can forget about having any sort of privacy because the apartment we are moving to, only has two bedrooms, so that means you and Tyler are going to have to share.”

    “WHAT?” came the outrage from both brothers and exactly the same time.

    Justin’s brown, caramel coloured spiky hair was whipping all over the show with his anger, and for the first time that evening, even Tyler had lost his cool, with his jet-black hair flopping all over his forehead as he too, stared at their mother in sheer disbelief.

    “Uhm…what the actual hell? I’m fucking nineteen years old! Mom, I have a girlfriend! I can’t…I can’t be sharing a room with this loser!” Tyler spat out as he pointed his finger shakingly at his younger brother.

    “Who the fuck are you calling a loser? And as for Lauren, she obviously hasn’t seen your manky ass cock yet because she would run a mile…”

    “Better than fucking a DUDE, you fucking homo!”

    “FUCK YOU!”

    “BACK AT YOU!”

    “BOYS! ENOUGH!” their father proceeded to finally bring an end to things.

    “I promise you, the moment that I’m back on my feet again, the very moment that we have enough funds to get us out of this predicament, I will look at a better home for us, even better than this one…but for now, I’m afraid that we have to make sacrifices. You are teenagers for heaven’s sake! You want to tell me that you aren’t grown up enough to each share a room with your own blood brother?”

    Justin crossed his arms and gave Tyler yet another one of his death stares, where as Tyler himself sighed and shook his head.

    “Can’t I just sleep on the couch at least if it’s only for a couple of months…?”

    “No, Tyler. Now you two boys be grown up about this, and learn the reality of how the world really works. I have every faith in your dad that he will get us back on track in the end. I’m going to bed. Remember to switch the TV and the air con off before you two go to bed. And that is the end of this!” Belinda warned as it seemed that Justin wanted to protest against the move to a smaller apartment once more.

    Their dad patted their shoulders one by one, before suddenly the two brothers were all alone in the huge ass kitchen that they had grown up in from before they could remember.

    “I fucking hate you, you know that?” Justin whispered.

    Tyler smirked.

    “Whatever, loser…” he taunted back before he sighed and walked slowly up to his room.

    **

     

    TWO MONTHS LATER

     

    “Oh my God…he’s really sending me his…”

    Justin breathed out loud as the picture finally popped up on his phone’s screen.

    Jesus.

    He licked his lips as he stared at the photo of the Eighteen-year-old cock that he had just been sent by the hottest boy in school. Kyle Richards was so fucking hot, and sometimes Justin still couldn’t believe that he was actually into him.

    Into him…Justin of all boys.

    He licked his lips as he recognized the veins and curves of Kyle’s dick, having become quite fond of the phallus over the past few weeks. It tasted even better than it looked, and he knew that all too well.

    Of course, Kyle had to hide himself being into guys as well, and therefore he had a steady girlfriend, but of course he had given Justin more than reassurances that it was only just for show. The captain of the school’s first rugby team couldn’t afford not to have a girlfriend and all that malarky.

    God, he wished he could jack off, but these days you never knew who might walk in on you.

    That, Justin learned the hard way about a week after they had moved into the very, very small apartment thanks to his father losing his job. He was sure…fuck man, he was SO SURE that there was no one home that afternoon when he decided to jack off yet to another picture of the popular Kyle…

    …and in walked his mother.

    Of all fucking people.

    Justin sighed.

    His entire world has been knocked sideways. The sharing of the room didn’t work, it was never going to work, not with Tyler.

    Where as Justin himself was tidy and neat and liked to keep his things orderly in a certain place, Tyler was the exact opposite. He tended to leave every nook and cranny that he wore on the floor, or on his bed and after a whole day of wearing said clothes, you can think how it smelled.

    Numerous times Tyler and himself had been at each others throats because of petty things like Tyler randomly farting just as Justin felt himself drifting away to sleep, the fact that they always had to watch what Tyler wanted to on the TV in their room, because Tyler was adamant that the older brother should always get preference.

    Fuck that.

    On one of the nights when Tyler was out with his girlfriend Lauren, Justin super glued all of Tyler’s underwear together in one big pile, claiming innocence when Tyler eventually found out. The outcome meant two bloody noses and both of the boys being grounded for two weeks.

    “And what do we have here?”

    FUCK!

    Justin sprung upwards and tried his best to get his phone away from his brother, but Tyler unfortunately was older and much stronger, and more muscled than he was, and snatched the phone away from his younger sibling quicker than that Justin could react, laughing pushing Justin backwards as he tried to get his phone back, the younger boy landed smack bang on his back, onto the floor.

    “Jesus, Tyler! Grow the fuck up!” Justin yelled as he got up in record time and once more tried to get his phone back, but Tyler was relentless.

    “Nah uh! Not until I see who you are talking to…ah I see. Fuck man, when I said you were gay, I was JOKING! What the actual hell is this?” he demanded, all laughter now disappearing from his boyish face faster than you could say busted.

    Justin was really panicking now.

    There were times that Tyler had called him homophobic names before, but there was never really proof that he was gay. And in all those times, even with all the animosity between the brothers, he never really thought that Tyler meant what he said…it was more shooting the shit than anything else.

    But that picture of Kyle’s dick on his phone.

    You couldn’t possibly get more evidence that Justin was gay, than that.

    “Tyler…come on man, just give it back…” he started to say, before Tyler surprised him by throwing his phone back to him, catching it before it dropped onto the floor, just in time.

    “Bro…what the hell? Kyle, of all people? You do realise that he’s hella straight with a girlfriend, right?” Tyler grimaced, and sat down on his filthy bed to try and find something clean to wear.

    Justin frowned and placed his phone back onto his desk at the side of his own bed.

    “What? No snarky comments about me having a picture of a guy’s dick and balls on my phone? No calling me a homo? Are you gonna tell Mom and Dad now? Should I fucking pack my bags?” he ranted on and on, as he normally did when he was nervous as hell.

    Tyler smiled and his eyes lit up the moment that he found a t-shirt that vaguely didn’t smell like body odour, before he took off his school shirt and replaced it with the aforementioned t-shirt. Picking up his Axe body spray he proceeded to douse himself with the stuff, before he winked at his brother.

    “That’s more like it! Now why should I tell Mom and Dad that their youngest boy is gay? I’ve known it for years! I bet they know it too! Dude, you’re Eighteen and you’ve never had a girlfriend, that’s normally a dead giveaway. There’s nothing wrong with it, chill the fuck out, brother! So, you like guys instead of girls. So, you like dick instead of pussy. Fuck me how the hell that happens, but we all know it does and it’s okay. I ain’t judging.”

    Justin nearly swallowed his chewing gum as Tyler finished his sentence.

    “You really…you don’t care that I’m…a faggot, as you always call me?” he whispered.

    “Hey, you’re still my brother, even though sometimes I can’t actually stand you, right? YOU are the one who always says how much you hate me. Have I ever told you that I hate you back?”

    Justin wanted to open his mouth to respond, but now that he thought about it…yes, they were like cats and dogs, well some days more like oil and water some days but suddenly he couldn’t think of a single time that Tyler actually said in so many words, that he hated him.

    Because he never did? Or because he just couldn’t remember?

    “I’m not as bad as you maybe think I am, Justin…” came the tepid response from Tyler, before he reached for his cap and placed it on his head with the back facing front, smiling his signature handsome grin straight at Justin.

    “Gotta go and tell the parents not to wait up, okay? Got a hot date with Jenny tonight. Taking her to the ice rink where it’s nice and cold, and hopefully she’ll allow me to warm her up, if you know what I mean. Later, loser!”

    Justin turned away for a few seconds, before a shattering thought ripped the corners of his mind.

    “Wait what? Who the hell is Jenny? Your girlfriend’s name is LAUREN, you man whore!”

    Tyler turned around and looked down at Justin as if he was simply a stone in his way.

    “Met her at Lauren’s birthday party last week and decided to shoot my shot. And by the way, Lauren doesn’t know any of this, so if she finds out, I’m gonna know exactly who told her. You don’t wanna be near me when that happens, okay?” Tyler said menacingly.

    Justin’s anger got the better of him.

    Lauren was in his grade, and she was such a gentle, beautiful soul. It wrecked him when she and Tyler started dating because there was a part of him, right from the very beginning that knew, if Tyler would ever fuck this up, Lauren wouldn’t want anything to do with him ever again either.

    “You’re a real piece of shit! You’re actually cheating on Lauren!” he yelled out loud, but Tyler was simply unphased.

    “I ain’t gonna feel guilty, brother. I’m nineteen, I can’t hitch my wagon to just one girl at this point and time. Like I said, later loser!”

    Justin picked up the closest thing that he could reach, the can of Axe spray that Tyler had used before HURLING it towards his brother, missing him by mere centimetres. Tyler doubled over in laughter of his pathetic attempt to actually hurt him.

    “Dude! I should teach you how to throw because GOD that was embarrassing…”

    “FUCK YOU! I hate you so fucking much, you literally have NO idea! I wish you were DEAD!”

    Tyler smirked before he picked up the bottle of Axe and tossed it over towards Justin.

    “Hey, at least I don’t get off about having a cock in my mouth, do I?” he sneered before he threw Justin a thumbs up, and left the room.

    Justin could hear his incessant laughter all the way to the family car, before Tyler drove off to his date.

    He paced up and down in their shared room. He was seething…God, he was so angry.

    At Tyler for always getting the better of him. At Tyler for clearly being his parents’ favourite child. At Tyler, who would clearly have to bring all their grandkids into this world, because Justin himself was gay and would probably never have the guts to sleep with a girl.

    He had never hated Tyler as much as he did then.

    He honestly hoped he crashed the car and burned in hell.

    Tyler would more than fucking deserve that.

    **

    He was asleep when the home phone rang.

    Sad and angry because of the limited WIFI they were forced to endure because they no longer had uncapped internet and therefore, he couldn’t afford to stream anything on Netflix in glorious 480p quality, because that was the cheapest package.

    He hated what his life had become. He wished at that point and time that he could just fall asleep and never wake up.

    He also heard his mother scream and sat up quickly.

    He heard his father speaking over the phone, as his mother had probably stepped away.

    Or perhaps it was still her volatile screams that he could hear across the apartment.

    Of what happened next, Justin wasn’t quite sure over the years that would follow.

    He barely seemed to remember that his father, as white as he has never seen him, had walked into his room…slowly as he had ever done, sat next to Justin on the side of his bed, and calmly explained to him that he had sad news.

    That Tyler had been in a car accident.

    A drunk driver had rammed into him, just when he was on his way home from his date with Jenny.

    It took a few seconds for Justin to register what had happened, but once he finally did, his brain worked overtime.

    The guilt was already eating him up, over what he had said to Tyler before he had driven off earlier that night. He told his brother that he had wished he was dead.

    And now, hours later, Tyler was laying flat on his back inside a hospital bed, and the doctors said that it was touch and go where survival was concerned at that point.

    As himself, and his parents finally were given permission to enter the hospital room where Tyler was being treated, he felt a sharp pain inside the corners of his heart, as he saw his brother…as vulnerable and as shattered as he had never seen him before.

    All their lives, Tyler had always been the brave one of the two. The stronger one. The more muscled. The more popular. If there was ever a crisis, Tyler would be the one everyone would expect Justin to turn to. He was the older brother, after all.

    Right now…that image was well and truly shattered.

    He was currently being kept alive by some machine that made a ghoulish noise every few seconds, there were numerous lights and numbers and computer screens just about everywhere that you looked.

    Justin swallowed slowly. His parents were still talking to the doctors about Tyler’s condition so it seemed that he had a few minutes alone with his older brother.

    He was shaking. His chest was heaving and he struggled to talk.

    He told Tyler that he wished he was dead.

    Jesus Christ.

    Slowly, as if he was in some kind of living fucking nightmare, he reached out with his left hand and softly took Tyler’s inside of his own, gently squeezing it as he did so.

    His eyes fluttered over Tyler’s handsome features. His brother was good looking, that was no secret, even as his sibling, he wasn’t blind by any means. He just never realised how…how beautiful he really was, until this very moment.

    This was his brother.

    Times when they would fight to the death over stupid ass things like clothes on the floor or being forced to share a room FLOODED through Justin’s brain as the first tear trinkled across his cheeks.

    When he told Tyler he hated him, he meant it. Oh God, he meant it.

    But he didn’t want him to die.

    That part was said in anger, that he knew.

    But the point was…he had SAID it.

    It was the final thing that Tyler had heard him say before…

    …before all of this.

    “I’m…I’m sorry…” he croaked out quietly before he was rejoined by his parents.

    **

    In the days that followed, Tyler continued to get stronger and stronger. It seems like the accident had not damaged his brain as much as they had previously feared and was scheduled to eventually make a complete recovery.

    To this day, Justin had refused to visit Tyler at the hospital, and try as they have might, his parents couldn’t get him to change his mind.

    Justin was scared. Scared to face his brother and to man up about his last words to him before he almost died.

    He was too scared to look Tyler in the eye and apologise for what was said. If his parents ever knew what the real reason was that he refused to even as much say Tyler’s name, they would have kicked him out of the house yonks ago.

    About five and a half weeks after that terrible night, Tyler was ready to be released from hospital.

    Justin’s heart fluttered as he realised that there was no hiding anymore. His parents told him often that Tyler asked after him, but he always clammed up when he was questioned. It must have been so weird to both of them…the mere fact that Tyler almost died and Justin had flat up refused to even see him.

    To his credit, he made sure their room was in perfect condition for Tyler’s return. He had even gone to the trouble to make sure there was Coke Zero in the fridge, knowing that Tyler didn’t drink anything with sugar. By the time that his parents wheeled Tyler into the house, he was a nervous wreck.

    He stood aside in the living room, as their dad wheeled Tyler into the area, and he froze as he felt his brother’s eyes directly on his own.

    It was like his eyes held those of Justin hostage, as if it never wanted to let them go.

    The first chance that he had gotten to actually talk to Tyler alone, was later on that night, after all the kids from school that had come over to greet Tyler back from the hospital had gone home. By the time that he had brushed his teeth and finished his shower, and slowly entered the room that they both shared, his parents had already made sure that Tyler was safely tucked in bed, ready for the night.

    His tablets and a glass of water as at his side table, ready for him to have when the pain became worse.

    “Mom said you should help me with that…I mean if you want to. I can’t take them myself; my leg and my arm is still fucked. I’m sorry,” Tyler said after a few awkward moments of silence between the two brothers, before he sighed and tried to turn on his side, but his arm in the sling was given him more trouble than it was worth.

    “Dude, the doctor said that you should sleep on your back…”

    “Yes, thank you, Justin I fucking know what the damn doctor said, okay?”

    Silence.

    Total and utter silence.

    Justin swallowed slowly and gently climbed into bed, as to not…what was the word…disturb Tyler by any means. He turned on his side and grabbed his phone, and saw that Kyle was online, before he started to type the boy a message.

    “That Kyle you’re chatting to?”

    Sigh.

    “Yeah,” Justin answered.

    More silence.

    “Bro, he’s never gonna leave her for you…”

    “Jesus, Tyler, could you just…SHUT UP? Please?”

    Silence.

    Justin heard the bed next to his squeak before he heard Tyler clear his throat.

    “I’m just looking out for you. You’re my little brother after all.”

    “Screw you. There’s nothing little about me.”

    “Well, your dick comes to mind.”

    “Jesus, you’re such a fucking asshole! Shouldn’t those pills have knocked you out by now?”

    He heard Tyler giggle as he locked his phone and proceeded to turn around and face his brother.

    “Wow, didn’t know you cared.”

    “I fucking don’t.”

    “Oh, I know you don’t. You wished I was dead and it very nearly happened.”

    Fuck.

    That was a low blow.

    One that knowing Tyler, Justin knew was coming sooner or later.

    More silence.

    “Tyler?”

    “Yeah?”

    Silence.

    “Dude! I’m pumped full of pain meds and I’m seriously going to fall asleep any moment, so if you have something to say, you better fucking say it,” Tyler murmured.

    Justin licked nervously over his dry lips, before he cleared his throat.

    “I just…I just want to say how…fuck man, you nearly died and that last thing I told you was…”

    Tyler turned his head as much as he could towards his brother and his heart flipped as he realised that Justin was crying.

    Justin never cries.

    Tyler couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his younger sibling shed any tears. For all of his dramatic antics over the years, and for all the times they had fought like ancient warriors, Justin was a tough little kid. He was strong and cunning. Just like Tyler himself.

    To see him cry and break down like this…

    “Hey…heeeey! Come on man, you’re making me feel awkward here. How can I be angry at your ass if you fucking do that?” Tyler said, trying to make light of the situation.

    That didn’t help much.

    Tyler sighed.

    Okay. Just…just leave it.

    Let Justin get it all out.

    Let him, as his mother always said…cleanse his soul. Apparently crying always cleanses the soul.

    Justin angrily wiped away his tears, lambasting himself for crying in front of his older brother.

    “I’m sorry…”

    “It’s okay, bro…”

    “No, it isn’t! I tell you I wish that you were dead and then…and then…”

    “Wait, hold up, you didn’t know that that fucker was gonna drive straight into me! Or are you telepathic now?”

    “FUCK YOU!”

    “I thought you were sorry?”

    Justin laid back down and his eyes flickered over his brother.

    “I don’t want you to die…” he whispered, after what felt like literal ages.

    Tyler looked back at him as best he could, and he winked and grinned.

    “That’s a fucking relief…” he whispered.

    “You’re such an asshole…” Justin smiled, before he reached over and switched off the bed light.

    Both the Simmonds siblings were asleep in minutes.

    **

    “Hell no.”

    Tyler threw his arm upwards, the one that wasn’t broken, as he stared at his brother in sheer disbelief.

    “Look here, Mom TOLD you to help me if it was needed and FUCKING HELL I NEED IT!”

    Justin rolled his eyes.

    “I ain’t fucking helping you to piss, Tyler! That wasn’t part of the deal!”

    “Listen here, you fuck face, if you don’t fucking help me, I’m gonna flood the floor and my bed and I’ll tell Mom and Dad that you refused to help me, so what’s your poison, brother?”

    Fucking hell!

    Justin groaned out loud as he sighed and placed both of his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.

    “What do I need to do? FINE, I’ll help you! Once, nothing more!” he blasted as he frantically looked around the room at literally anything that wasn’t called Tyler.

    Tyler winced as the pressure to relieve his bladder was probably getting worse by the passing second, before he quickly and sharply pointed to a plastic bottle standing on the side table next to his bed.

    “Will you stop freaking out and just listen, it’s fucking easy enough!”

    Justin gave his brother the finger, before grabbing the bottle and standing next to his bed.

    “Okay, what now?”

    Tyler looked like he might explode at any given second.

    “What do you think? You need to take my trousers off, I can’t do it myself! HURRY!”

    Jesus Christ.

    Justin sighed, but he knew his brother needed him. It was true…throughout this entire ordeal, Tyler hadn’t asked anything of him, even once. Just his God damn luck, the one fucking afternoon that their mother had to go in to see a client, and his father had to attend a work interview, THIS happens.

    Carefully, Justin reached out and grabbed the sides of the trousers that Tyler was wearing and he quickly and efficiently managed to lower it, until Tyler’s boxer briefs were exposed.

    “That too?” he asked.

    “No shit, that too!” came the reply.

    “Gross, hold on,” Justin said before he took a huge breath, and grabbed the sides of the boxers and managed to lower them as well, exposing his brother’s limp teenage penis to himself and the rest of the room.

    “Take a picture gay boy, it will last longer,” Tyler taunted him.

    Justin scowled.

    “Keep that up, I’ll walk away and let you rot in your own fucking piss.”

    “You love me too much. HURRY UP!”

    Wincing as he did so, Justin grabbed hold of his brother’s limp dick and his eyes widened as he realised how warm it was.

    Wow.

    He just realised what he was actually doing.

    He was holding…his brother’s cock in his hands.

    Jesus Christ, of course he had seen Tyler’s dick before…how can he not? They were brothers and they shared a room, and even before that, when they still had their huge house back in Houghton…as brothers it was inevitable that it would happen.

    But to feel it’s warmth…to feel it’s girth…almost as if it was alive in the palm of his hands…

    …his chest tightened to the point where he didn’t know if he could take his next breath.

    “That’s it…now put the head in the bottle…that’s it…okay…oh my fucking god…” Tyler groaned as he finally allowed his bladder to empty itself.

    The warm, yellowish urine flowed freely and without prejudice into the bottle that Justin was holding at every passing second. The relief, the sheer utter relief on Tyler’s face, was one that Justin would never forget.

    His ripped stomach, barely visible under the duvet, tensed as he continued to take his piss. Soon, the bottle was nearly half full and with a sigh and a burp, the flow of urine finally stopped.

    “Dude…thanks. Thanks so much, I was gonna burst soon…” Tyler whispered and grabbed Justin’s arm as he did so.

    The warmth of his brother’s skin onto his own…another male…another boy…touching him so softly…so…so incredibly intimate at that…

    Justin gasped for breath and immediately turned away from his brother. He ran to the toilet on the other side of the house, emptying the bottle and washing it out, before slowly walking back to the room that they both shared.

    “You good?” he dared to ask…his voice shaking.

    Tyler smirked at him, and laid back against the multiple of cushions their mother had packed on the bed for him.

    “I’m great,” he softly replied.

    **

    “Justin! Justin!”

    “Wh…wha…Tyler? TYLER? Is everything okay? Are you hurt, do you need your meds?”

    “No, I just…Mom and Dad are asleep by now…can you help me again? Like we did the other day?”

    Justin froze…and immediately felt goosebumps spread across the entirety of his skin.

    This whole past week had been nothing but a sheer fucking nightmare. Ever since he had Tyler’s dick in his hands, and felt the powerful teenage organ relieve itself into that motherfucking jug, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else.

    He even broke things off with Kyle, because he couldn’t figure out what the hell was happening, why he was feeling what he was feeling. Not that Kyle seemed to mind, and that hurt more than anything else.

    He had a nagging feeling that Tyler had been right. That Kyle had just been using him for sex, when he couldn’t get it from his girlfriend.

    But it still stung like a mother fucker.

    But that was the least of his worries right now…more to the point, why did he desperately want to have another feel of his big brother’s cock in his hands…in his mouth…

    “Justin, sorry, but I really need your help, brother…”

    “I’ll do it, okay? Just wait a second!”

    Justin grabbed the now infamous plastic bottle that he so hoped he would never have to use again for this sort of purpose, before he approached Tyler’s bed. With his healthy arm, Tyler barely managed to lower the trousers of the pyjamas that he was wearing, leaving only his boxers for Justin.

    “Sorry, brother…” he whispered, looking straight at Justin as he said it.

    Justin swallowed.

    His brother’s eyes were blue, just like his own. Unlike his caramel brown hair, Tyler’s were jet-black and were falling over his eyes.

    He looked vulnerable as shit.

    He looked embarrassed as anything.

    He looked sexy as hell.

    They went through the entire ritual just as they did the last time, and this time, Justin remembered to grab some tissues to clean the final drops of Tyler’s dick as he finished his piss.

    Justin shuddered as the smell infiltrated his nostrils, before he rushed across the hallway to empty and wash said bottle, before swiftly returning to their room.

    “Tyler, what the hell?” he breathed as he realised that his brother was trying his best to jerk himself off with his left hand, which of course wasn’t working out so well as we all know it tended to do.

    Tyler groaned out loud and Justin quickly closed the bedroom door before he woke their parents because if they were to come in here and see THIS…

    …he didn’t even wanna think about it.

    Tyler looked at him with desperate eyes.

    “Justin, for fuck sake, it’s been eight weeks…” he uttered.

    “You’re not jacking off with me right here, brother!” Justin hissed.

    Tyler slumped against his pillows, before he sighed and looked slowly down from his rapidly softening dick, towards Justin, in sheer expectation.

    “Please, Justin…” he whispered.

    “Please Justin what…oh hell no, FORGET IT! NO! I ain’t jacking off my own brother!” Justin hissed towards Tyler.

    Tyler sighed and rolled his eyes.

    “Dude, be real, will you? Look, we both have dicks, right? Just pretend it’s yours.”

    “Are you insane? I’m not jacking you off! Get Lauren to do it!”

    “But you’re here now and Lauren is asleep at home…”

    Justin hovered.

    His eyes, whether he wanted to or not, flickered once more towards Tyler’s penis.

    Jesus.

    Will…will it really be so bad?

    And then Tyler played his trump card.

    “Don’t be mad at me for saying this but…you’re gay, right? It ain’t supposed to freak you out touching a dick, bro!”

    “YOU’RE NOT ANYONE, YOU’RE MY BROTHER!”

    “A dick is a dick, Justin, please! My balls are literally aching here!”

    “FINE! FUCK!”

    Justin walked over towards Tyler’s bed as fast as he could, before he sat down. He grabbed Tyler’s limp nineteen-year-old dick and once more, he felt elated at feeling the warm appendage in his hand. He lightly squeezed the phallus, eliciting a giant groan from his brother.

    “Shut up! You want Mom and Dad to see this?”

    “That’s kinda kinky…”

    “You’re such an asshole! Just keep quiet and let me fucking do this!”

    Tyler smiled and laid back, exposing his lower half of his body totally towards his younger brother. Justin swallowed some pent-up saliva and began his job…proceeding to draw back the lose foreskin around the head of his brother’s cock.

    “Holy shit…been so long…” Tyler murmured as if in sheer ecstasy.

    Like a marionet puppet attached to a string, both brothers watched as if in awe, how the limp teenaged cock evolved, transformed…from a raw noodle to a steel hard seven incher ready and able for action after weeks of inactivity.

    Oh my God, Tyler was so hard.

    His cock was SO hard.

    It was much like jerking himself off, Justin thought, apart from being about two inches longer than his own, their dicks looked very much the same.

    He gripped Tyler’s dick tighter, and he felt a sense of pride…yes, that’s what it was, when he saw how much Tyler was enjoying what he as doing.

    Up…down…up…down…

    As if in a dream, Justin revelled in seeing Tyler’s cockhead appear, only to disappear every few seconds as he continued to masturbate his brother the best that he could. Tyler’s eyes by now were rolling back in their sockets as his dick finally got some action after more than two months of nothingness.

    As if in sheer instinct, Justin’s hand caressed Tyler’s rock-hard cock, and in the same breath, allowed it to wander down to his balls, feeling the two egg shaped baby makers in their full and utter capacity, alert at how full they were.

    He was amazed that Tyler was actually allowing this. He must have been horny as hell.

    Making his way back upwards to Tyler’s stiff phallus, he continued with his sexual manipulations of the steel hard teenage cock, by now dripping, drowning his fingers with the pre cummy goodness that seemed to just OOZE with his flaring piss slit.

    “Brother, I’m close…I’m really, really close…” Tyler whispered and Justin blinked a couple of times, as if he was being forced to remember who he was and just WHAT he was busy doing.

    Tyler was so hot…at last he was able to admit it, after all these weeks.

    His brother was so God damn handsome that it literally killed him.

    Is that why he was so hateful towards him all these years?

    Is that why they could never see eye to eye?

    Because of some deep level shit, he knew that he found Tyler attractive and fighting with him, was the only way that he could deal with it?

    Was that it?

    Up…down…up…down…

    “Gonna cum, Justin. Fucking hell, Justin…oh my god, oh my GOD!”

    Justin gasped as Tyler arched his back deep into the mattress, before sheer globules and globules of potent pent-up teenage sperm volleyed themselves out of Tyler’s cock. Two months of sheer and utter stress gone and relief in a fucking instant.

    His fingers were drenched with the stuff. It felt it was all over the place. The smell was intense, really intense, so much so that his mouth started to water, wanting to see what Tyler’s cum tasted like.

    It scared the shit out of him; just how eager he was to put his mouth over that cockhead and suck it all out.

    He continued to milk his brother’s dick until there was nothing more left to give, before he stood up and grabbed the nearest box of tissues that he could find, wiping his brother’s sperm from the entirety of his fingers.

    Neither brother spoke.

    It was like not one of the two suddenly knew what to say.

    It felt like this was the most awkward exchange of passage that either had never encountered.

    Justin cleared his throat and dumped the used tissues in the bin, placing some before Tyler to clean up the rest of the mess, before he slowly made his way over towards his own bed.

    The silence was deafening.

    “Justin?”

    Silence.

    “Justin?”

    “What?”

    Silence.

    He then heard Tyler sigh, the sound eliciting fear across his young teenaged heart.

    “Nothing. Sleep well,” was all that his brother said.

    Justin’s heartbeat was on sudden full red alert, if it wasn’t before.

    God…he had just jerked off his own brother.

    It was wrong…Jesus, it was SO wrong, on SO many levels, it wasn’t even funny.

    But as he closed his eyes, one thing was for damn sure.

     He would do it again, in a heartbeat.


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  • After Work Fun and Clean up

    Collins Hardware, Monday, July 10, 1950

    Luckily for BJ, Sunday had been a very busy, active day filled with all kinds of summer family doings. Those distractions sure helped him a lot. He hadn’t thought about what happened after work in Collins’ barn all day. Not at all, actually, that is, until he saw Kevin bright and early Monday morning. Immediately, his face flushed as he caught Kevin’s gaze.

    “What’s with you, BJ?” asked Gert when she saw the red face. “Are you feeling ok?”

    “Sure,” BJ replied as nonchalantly as he could. To change the subject before Gert said anything more, he turned to Collins and asked, “So where are we off to this morning?”

    “Just the usual Monday stuff,” Collins replied, thinking to himself, ‘BJ makes the schedule. He should know.’ But instead of teasing BJ, like he normally would, Collins let it go. But then he had another thought. “Uh oh,” he said a bit too loudly. Both BJ and Kevin turned to see what he was “uh-oh-ing” about. Collins pretended to look over the work checklist of the day as he spoke up. “I forgot about something. Kev, why don’t you take all the guys and get the lawns going. You’ll get through it fast enough if you all work together. BJ, you’re with me. Okay, guys?”

    “Sure thing, boss,” Kevin said with a smile. “Come on, boys. Let’s load up the trucks and get going.” Ryan, Bo, Ricky, Shawn, and TJ all hopped to it and got all their tools and equipment loaded up. “Ryan,” called Kevin, “can you take the guys in your car and follow me?”

    Ryan grinned, happy he got to drive, and said, “Sure thing, Coach.”

    Kevin called over to the guys, “Hey, Shane, you’re with me.”

    “Why, what’d I do?” whined Shane. The other guys all laughed and teased him.

    “Count yourself privileged,” Kevin replied with an air of superiority.

    Collins shook his head and laughed as the gang drove off to their first assignment. Then he turned and saw the scowl on BJ’s face. “What’s this all about?” BJ asked, suspiciously. “You never send them off altogether. Kevin’s sure going to have his hands full with all five of them at once.”

    Collins shrugged and said, “Coach will be just fine. He knows how to handle them all pretty well after all this time.” BJ made a face like he disagreed but said nothing. “This…” Collins waved his hand between the two of them, “…is about you and me. We need some bonding time, doncha think?”

    “If you say so,” BJ said, not convinced that was what Collins was really on about. “Where we going?”

    “Schoenecker’s place,” Collins replied as he climbed into the truck. “I want to check it out and see how their new garden extension is doing.

    ***************

    As they drove down the drive and got out onto Route 161 heading to the North Side, Collins got right down to it. “BJ.” He paused, getting BJ’s attention. “You write our work schedules, and you didn’t know what we were doing today. That doesn’t happen. What’s wrong?” BJ said nothing. He continued looking out the window. Collins tried again. “We’re friends, right? You sure helped me, listened to me, when my life was crazy, and I couldn’t figure things out. You never judged me or criticized me for how crazy I was during that tough time. Let me know the same for you.” Collins paused a moment, then said, “Sometimes working hard helps get your mind off things, and that’s what today can be.” Pause. “I just want you to know, I am your friend, and I can listen anytime you want to talk about whatever it is.” Collins said nothing more.

    When the truck pulled up to the Schoeneckers’ property, Collins instructed, “Let’s walk around first. See what’s what. Then we can figure out what we need to do.”

    “Sounds good,” BJ replied as he shut the truck door behind him.

    ‘Well, at least his tongue still works, if he wants to use it,’ thought Collins as they walked down the driveway heading toward the backyard.

    After a long morning of digging holes and moving plants around, splitting up some they needed more space and tossing any dead leaves and stalks, they hit a point when they could take a break. Collins walked over to BJ and asked, “You hungry? How ’bout some lunch at Tilly’s?”

    “Sounds good. I could eat.”

    As they climbed into the truck, Collins grinned and said, “I think it’s strawberry chiffon pie today. Yum!”

    BJ actually smiled and nodded.

    As they were driving back to Schoenecker’s after lunch, BJ asked Collins, “So how’d you know it was something personal?”

    Collins shrugged and said, “Nothing else bothers you. You take it all in stride.”

    BJ nodded and let the silence be.

    They worked for another few hours and called it quits. “Thanks for working on this with me all day,” said Collins as they packed the equipment back into the truck. “I know you’d much rather be supervising Joey and Tommy and the boys.”

    BJ had to laugh at that. “You know it, boss. Much more fun than working alone with the boss.”

    “The Missus will be ecstatic when she sees how those beds grow in,” Collins said as he started up the truck. “And you know she’ll be telling you all about what a great gardener you are. With her waist cinched and lips all red, just to tell you.”

    BJ grinned and shook his head at Collins’ teasing. “Yeah, yeah. All right. I’ll tell you.”

    Without blinking, Collins asked, “The Legion? Tilly’s? Or my place?”

    BJ whipped his head to his left. He stared for just a moment. Then looked forward again and said, “How ‘bout your place?”

    “The back porch it is.” And Collins drove across the bridge and headed straight down Maple Street.

    As they got to Collins block, BJ had a sudden thought. “Hey, Collins, didn’t you tell me once that you have certain rules for visiting guests out on your back porch?”

    “I do. Usually…” Collins admitted. “But we can forego those for today.”

    After Collins parked in the drive and the two men headed toward the back porch, BJ had to ask, “Remind me… what are those conditions you put out there?”

    By this point, they were at the back screen door. Collins squeaked it open and motioned for BJ to walk in ahead of him. “Well, you know how much I hate wearing clothes, doncha? Well, when I have a beer or a bourbon out here, I drink naked. And if a bud joins me, I require him to dress like me. Naked.”

    “Ah, okay, I see,” BJ stumbled through his thoughts. He wondered if this was going to be a drinking visit, and would Collins ask him to be naked with him? “And so… um… tonight, are we…?”

    Collins turned around and looked at BJ with a very serious expression on his face. “Tonight, I want you to feel comfortable. I want to hear about what’s bothering you. And because you’ve been so quiet about it all day, for the first time, I’m going to say… do what makes you feel comfortable.” BJ nodded. Then Collins asked, “What would you like to drink? I’ve got beer, bourbon, Coke, orange juice, or I can make a pot of coffee if that’s what you’d like. What’ll it be?”

    BJ didn’t even think about it. “Bourbon.”

    Collins nodded and said, “Make yourself comfortable out here. Sit where you’d like. I’ll get our drinks.”

    It took Collins mere minutes to make two highballs, stiff ones, knowing that they had serious business to talk about. Well, at least he supposed it would be serious. BJ looked like it was going to be serious. And after all, they were going to be drinking bourbon. So before he carried the two drinks out to the porch, Collins pulled off his t-shirt and unhooked his belt, letting his chinos fall to the floor. He grabbed the drinks and sauntered out to the porch.

    He saw that BJ had positioned himself on Grandad’s old glider thingamajig, where Collins usually sat. In his head whirled the question, ‘Should I sit there next to him or should I sit in Grandma’s overstuffed chintz chair in the corner?’ All that ran through his head in the seconds it took him to sidle up to BJ. Then, when he was about to hand him his drink, Collins almost dropped it on the floor. There sat BJ, totally naked, waiting for him. That was a huge surprise.

    “I didn’t want to break any of your normal rules,” was BJ’s explanation.

    Trying to remain as serious as the occasion demanded, Collins said, “I wouldn’t have minded if you had, but isn’t this more comfortable?”

    “It is now,” BJ replied, “but we’ll see how comfortable it feels in a minute or two.”

    ‘That sounded foreboding,’ thought Collins as he handed BJ his bourbon and sat down on the cushion next to him. Immediately, he felt the heat wafting off BJ’s body, almost like that side of his body was sunburnt or something. Collins flexed his butt cheeks and squirmed a bit, getting himself comfortable before he finally said, “Okay. Tell me. What’s wrong?”

    BJ stared down at the amber drink he held in his hand and suddenly downed the whole glass. Collins was astounded. He never thought BJ was much of a drinker. That seemed kind of dramatic. But, always an excellent host, he asked, “Do you need another?” BJ, still looking downward, into his lap at this point, nodded ‘yes’ and handed the glass back to Collins.

    This time, Collins came back not only with BJ’s glass but the bottle as well. ‘I don’t want to be bouncing up and down all night. He can take what he needs, when he needs it.’ This time around, BJ only drank half the glass, then set it on the small table in front of the thingamajig. Then BJ sat back, resting his head on the back of the glider.

    “I’m here, Collins, because I know I can trust you.” That’s how BJ started this conversation, started without ever looking at Collins.

    In response, Collins grunted, “Uh-huh, you know you can.”

    “The other day…” And BJ went on to tell Collins about Wilbur Schultz spying on the boys. Collins was aghast, which pleased BJ. ‘At least we had the same reaction,’ BJ thought. “I’m not sure if I should tell you the next part, but I have to.” And he did. He told Collins what he made Wilbur do. “I’m so ashamed I treated him like that. I should have… I can’t think now what I should have done, but it wasn’t that!”

    Collins was more shocked by what Wilbur did than what BJ did afterward. “I told you you could tell me anything you wanted to tell me. And you can. I can’t judge you for how you responded in that moment. Even now, you don’t exactly know what you should have done instead. That doesn’t matter. It happened. I don’t think less of you. It’s all okay.” Collins paused a moment, then added, “I’m glad you defended our guys. It would definitely have stunned them if they knew that had happened. And I’m glad you protected them.” They both took big gulps of bourbon and sat in silence for a moment or two while Collins figured out what he really wanted to say to BJ.

    When he was ready, Collins said, “Okay, here goes. Sometimes, sex acts are not about pleasure. They are about power. That happens all the time between a man and a woman, just by the sheer nature of the mechanics of intercourse. She must receive him, and he can insert himself in any way he wants. It can be a power play. Show her who’s in charge and who’s boss. Between two men, it isn’t as clear-cut. But you instinctively wanted to show Wilbur you were the one who had power over him. Getting him down on his knees, being subservient to you in that moment, is exactly how you showed him you were the powerful one. He was… the scum on the floor, forced to pleasure you. Men can also get pretty pumped when they use their power over someone else. That in and of itself can bring incredible personal pleasure.”

    Collins turned to say this next part, facing BJ, even if BJ didn’t look back at him. “I’m proud of you for defending our guys. I’m proud of you for showing Wilbur Schultz who’s boss and that he can’t just come onto my property and do what he wants. I think it feels awful now to you, because that’s not how you normally behave. You don’t know your own power, and you certainly don’t have to show power regularly. But in that instance, you had to, and you did. I think what you did was much more effective than if you chose to beat the shit out of him. He could actually bring charges against you if you did that. Though I don’t think he would. But he’s not going to tell anyone what he did and what you did as a consequence.”

    Having said all that, Collins reached over and rubbed BJ’s shoulder. Then, because he could never be too serious for too long, he had to add, “The only thing I would have done differently was I would have pulled out and shot my load all over his face, especially in his eyeballs. That stings like a muthafucker.”

    For the first time in this conversation, BJ turned and looked Collins in the face and asked, “Has Kevin told you about this?”

    ‘What an odd question,’ Collins thought. “No, why?”

    BJ explained. “’Cuz Kev said I actually gave him his reward by cumming in his mouth.” After telling Collins that, BJ could no longer hold back. He burst out laughing uncontrollably.

    Collins’ mouth dropped. He was so shocked by BJ laughing so hard. But when he realized what Kevin said, he couldn’t help it either. He busted out howling laughing, too. BJ felt so much better getting this off his chest and felt incredibly relieved having told Collins. And of course, in Collins’ unique way, they found the humor in the story. BJ reached over and pulled Collins into his arms and hugged him tightly as they continued to howl laughing.

    Once they calmed down and caught their breath, BJ stretched out on the glider, resting his head on the back and stretching his legs out in front of him. Collins patted BJ’s belly with a chuckle, then stretched his arms up over his head, wrapping his hands around the back of his head as he too stretched his legs out in front of him. After a moment, he pulled himself back into his regular sitting position. He reached down for the bourbon bottle and showed it to BJ and asked, “Another?”

    “Sure. Why not?”

    BJ leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. Collins nudged his shoulder with his half-full glass of bourbon, saying, “There you go.”

    BJ sat up and held his glass out to Collins, in a gesture like a toast. Collins clinked his glass with BJ’s, and they both drank. BJ put his glass back on the table and swiveled to face Collins again. “You know, I had no idea how this was going to go. I didn’t even know if I could tell you that story. But man, I’m sure glad I did. I feel like such a shit.”

    “You don’t usually let things bother you. So when I saw you like you were today, I knew it was something big. Thanks for trusting me, BJ.”

    BJ patted Collins’ knee and said, “You’re alright, boss. I didn’t want to, but I knew I could. And I don’t think it will weigh me down anymore. So thanks for pushing me to tell you.”

    Collins pursed his lips and nodded his okay.

    Then out of the blue, BJ started laughing again. Collins elbowed him and said, “What’s so funny?”

    “I’m just thinking of Kevin’s reaction when I told him that story.”

    “How was it you were able to tell Kevin, and it was so difficult to tell me?”

    “Kevin was there that day. I told him to be sure the guys all got back to the store okay, and that I had something I had to take care of. So, the next day, Kev asked me what I was up to after work, and I told him. After he heard what happened and what I did,  he told me that instead of punishing Wilbur,  I gave him exactly what he came for. That kind of pissed me off at first, but, on the other hand, it was really funny the way he said it. And then, well…” BJ’s voice drifted off.

    “Ah ha!” Collins squealed, “There’s more, isn’t there? Tell me.”

    BJ leaned forward again, elbows on his knees. “Oh god, I shouldn’t say any more.”

    Collins laughed, “But you’re going to. Aren’t you?”

    “Once Kev got talking about it all, repeating what I said, he gave it a whole different slant.”

    “Oh yeah? And what was that?”

    BJ turned and looked over his shoulder at Collins and said, “We got aroused.”

    Collins burst out laughing again. He couldn’t help it. Then he leaned forward, matching BJ’s position,  and asked, “You mean like you are now?” He elbowed BJ for emphasis.

    “Fuckin’ bastard,” mumbled BJ. “Don’t you two think of anything else?”

    “Nope.” Then Collins laughed again, saying, “Obviously, you’re just like us ‘cuz you don’t either.” He reached down and gave himself a pleasing pull. “It happens all the time to us young guys. We can’t help it. I didn’t know if you older guys reacted the same way at your advanced age.”

    That made BJ sit back smugly and show Collins what he had going on between his legs.  “I may be almost twenty years older than you, son, but all my equipment works just as well as it did when I was your age. See.” And there lying on his belly, up by his navel, was BJ’s cock, oozing juice and pulsing on his belly.

    Collins checked him out then, with a smile, said, “I think you need some help there, old man.” And with that, Collins bent down and sucked BJ’s cock right down his throat, getting a good taste of what the old man had lying there on his belly.

    “Fuck! Man oh man,” BJ groaned, “Shit, Collins. I can’t stop you.” Pause.” “I don’t want to stop you.” Pause. “But…” he started to laugh. “Oh fuck, this is so wrong.” He reached out and ran his hand through Collins’ short hair, running his fingers all over his head as it bounced up and down on him. “Damn, that feels good.”

    By this point, after all the bourbon he drank, Collins was in his velvet-gloved bourbon haze, relishing the feel and the taste of the cock in his mouth, doing his best to make BJ feel really good. And from the kinds of noises BJ was making, he sure was enjoying it. Before he came again, BJ pushed Collins off his cock and dove down to Collins’ lap, gulping his prick right down, giving as good as he got. Neither man could believe they were actually doing this, and at the same time, neither wanted it to end. They bounced back and forth, sucking on each other’s gorgeous cock, bringing the other guy close to the edge but not over it. This lasted for quite some time, until finally, while Collins was down on BJ once more, BJ shouted, “I’m a goner, boss. Please, make me shoot. I’ll give you everything that’s left in there. Take it. Please! Suck it out of me, will you? Oh yeah, that’s it. Please god. Awwwww.” And BJ let loose while Collins guzzled down every bit of jizz BJ squirted down his throat.

    When BJ was done, he pushed Collins off him and then dove down to take care of Collins’ raging hardon. It didn’t take Collins too long to cum either. They both had hung on as long as they could, but now that BJ was done, Collins knew he could let go too, and boy oh boy, he sure did.

    Neither man did much of this kind of thing. BJ taking a guy’s load happened rarely. In his orgasmic-drunken stupor, he tried to remember when was the last time. He figured it probably had not happened since before he was married. On the other hand, Collins rarely had someone sucking him dry. He was usually the guy providing a mouth to the other man. Both guys were taking the opposite role tonight, pleasing the other guy. Thanking a friend.

    When they were finally done with each other, their spent cocks lay limply on their bellies, still dribbling a bit. BJ spoke up first, “So that’s why you drink bourbon, eh, Collins. Makes you lose all inhibitions, eh.”

    Collins laughed and said, “Yeah, that’s one of the best things it does.” He slapped BJ’s belly, cracking themselves up again. They both laughed and laughed and then laughed some more, till they were exhausted and out of breath.


    The next morning, Collins was the first to wake up. He lay there a while, listening to BJ snoring. Then he rolled over to look at him and watch as he slept. Collins always found that an interesting way to learn more about a guy, not that sleeping with a guy was by any means a regular thing for him. It had happened a few times when he was in the army, when he and another bud got too drunk and ended up in the same cot, but that was it.

    Last night, BJ called his wife and told her he had drunk too much and would see her in the morning. In the morning, however, he didn’t remember making that call. He was alarmed when he woke up in a strange bed with someone else lying next to him. ‘What the f…?’  When he opened his eyes and clearly saw Collins staring back at him, he was even more confused. “What the hell?” he whispered.

    Collins smiled and asked, “Coffee?”

    “Oh fuck yeah,” BJ groaned.

    Collins rolled away from him and climbed out of bed. BJ rolled onto his back and tried to recall what happened last night, though he wasn’t quite sure he really wanted to remember everything. Then he heard the rushing sound of Collins taking his morning piss, making him realize he, too, had to take a whiz. He threw off the sheet covering him and got up. He followed the sound down to the end of the hallway, figuring that was the best way to find the toilet. Collins was just finishing up, standing there shaking himself dry. When he turned and saw BJ standing right there, he chuckled and said, “Next!”

    “Sorry, Collins,” BJ said apologetically. Then, with a smile, said, “I gotta pee too.”

    Collins stepped aside and waved at the toilet. “It’s all yours, bud.”

    As BJ stepped up to the toilet, Collins said, “I’ll put the coffee pot on and meet you in the kitchen.” He didn’t hear BJ’s mumbled response.

    When BJ finished up, he wondered if he should at least put his undies on, but then remembered who he was with. He chuckled to himself and dropped his skivvies back on the floor and headed downstairs.

    Collins sat at the kitchen table with a coffee mug in front of him. “Help yourself. There’s cream in the fridge if you want some.”

    “Thanks,” said BJ as he poured himself a cup and then pulled out a chair and sat down.
    They sat opposite each other, quickly sipping their coffees, neither saying a word. The silence wasn’t what you’d call comfortable, but neither man knew what to say to the other.

    Collins got up and poured himself another cup of coffee and asked BJ, “Ready for a top-up?”

    “Sure.”

    Collins filled BJ’s cup with hot coffee and set the pot back on the stove. Taking his chair again, he looked over at a puffy-faced BJ and said, “I’ve got extra work polos if you want one.”

    “That’ll be good, thanks,” he replied without looking up. They finished off their coffees and stood, knowing that they’d need to get out to the farm pretty quick before the rest of the crew got out there. Otherwise, there’d be uncomfortable explanations to give, especially to Kevin. As they climbed the stairs to get their clothes on, BJ said, “I’m not ready to talk about last night, but we probably need to sometime.”

    Collins couldn’t help himself, he had to say, “Come back some night for another bourbon and you can tell whatever is on your mind.” BJ’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

    They got to the top of the stairs and turned into Collins’ bedroom to gather up their clothes. While they pulled on their chinos, Collins said very seriously, “I don’t know about you, BJ…” BJ turned to look at Collins, dying to know what he was going to say now. Collins blushed a bit as he finished his sentence. “…but I think I’m in love.”

    BJ picked up the closest thing he could find, a pillow on the bed, and threw it at Collins, smacking him right in the face. Then both of them started laughing all over again.

  • My brother Chris

    Author’s notes: everybody in this story is of legal age.


    Brotherly Anal Christmas 

    I woke up on Thursday morning and slowly walked to Chris’ bed. He was awake, lazily yawning around. The alarm clock was set to 7:00 a.m., a bit weird, we didn’t have school on holidays and I was unimaginable to have any responsibilities on Christmas morning.

    Lucky me, I was already eighteen and I had been anxiously waiting for this! There was no time to lose when I walked to my brother’s room.

    My pajamas were taken off by my own hands once I entered it. It was only some blue shorts and a t-shirt after all. It took me no time to push Chris’ blanket and sit over my big brother’s crotch. He smiled while moving his hands to my hips, lowering them as he started removing my boxers. I upped my ass in the air helping him in. His cock was getting hard under my butt. I spread my ass cheeks to lay my naked buttcrack over his bulge still covered by his shorts. 

    Even though we didn’t have any anal intercourse yet, we played with my asshole a lot. We had already inserted fingers, phallic objects, dildo shaped toys and even his whole hand went in quite deep.

    I may be just eighteen, but the stuffing off my hole began early. I discovered that Chris, my own older brother, enjoyed to really open me wide and deep and I really liked every part of being anally stretched over my limits. We had been doing this for years since we innocently went on pranking each other, getting naked and just appreciating what we had to offer. It was just natural for me to love anal activities and for him to help me with it.

    Chris had volunteered to support me and really widen my own anal cavity! I always paid for his assistance by sucking on his cock and kissing him, he even sucked mine too! We both loved to kiss with our mouths filled with warm sperm and to play with our dicks could be very fun too!

    At this point our cocks were a little too big even for teens. I hit my eighteens and Chris was nineteen. I mean I was almost seven inches long, though a little thin in my shaft. Chris was already a bit more than eight inches long and very thick. At school we were clearly the biggest cocks around, they even got to nickname us the donkey brothers after we had a public erection in the locker room shower. It was shameful, but we just knew they were mostly envious of us; especially of Chris since he was so enormous.

    This reminded me of his hairs. I was also almost hairless all over, just some light hair was over my cock, balls, legs and ass. Chris had his hairy areas. His legs had hair, the same for his ass, but it was just a bit of sexy fuzzy thin hairs. He had light facial hair and some hair on his torso and lean chest which always got me erect when I caressed them.

    My mind unfocused from these thoughts when his hands invaded my butt crack. He started rubbing his fingers over my sweet reddish anus. I moaned, my hole reflexively twitched around his fingertips.

    Chris smiled and started to lift his torso, his taller body made it to a position where I was sitting on his lap, face to face with him. My cock started rubbing against his abs still covered by the pajama’s tank top. I felt the hot precum coming out of me. 

    He scooped some using his fingers, Chris licked the precum and put his digits back at my hole. Those slippery fingers were now entering my butthole. They slid in easily, one middle finger from each hand started to move around. My brother bent his face a bit to whisper in my ears.

    “I’m so lucky to wake up like this. Your slutty asshole all over me.” His fingers started to move apart creating some distance. I still had some type of “virginity”, a real cock had never been inside me, but the experience in the anal stretching ways had been developed from all these years of brotherly banging my hole.

    We already loved making it gape as wide as we could and I even prolapsed for his, and my own, delight. Chris was so very happy the day I managed to produce a rosebud a couple years ago so we both decided to focus on prolapse training last year. For some reason, we didn’t think about penetrating my anus with his cock. We just stretched, fisted, inserted objects and punched my butthole.

    Perhaps it was our way to pretend we weren’t an incestuous high school couple? Maybe it made us nervous because that would confirm that we really wanted to belong together like two gay perverts having a lot of incestuous love making.

    Right now, Chris didn’t care… I didn’t care. He was stretching me out to make it gape wide. He put one more finger from each hand inside. Now it was four fingers, both index and middle finger fondling my sphincter and pressuring my anal rim like hooks to force my anus to open up. He cupped my soft wide butt cheeks to create a bit more distance opening my hole. I felt my outer sphincter puffing up, my rectum walls jumping and forming a little red rosebud… I was already turning inside out for my brother. The pressuring of my cavity alongside my excitement made me bloom.

    “I just love your big butt my happy boy. Wonder what you want as a gift…” Chris enthusiastically whispered. 

    “I… I wish I could feel your cock inside me”. I finally answered, smirking in pleasure. I was younger and shorter, my body was a bit more muscly and fuller than Chris’ though. We had been hitting the gym since I was fifteen and we already did sports before. He, however, was this taller, leaner blonde hairier boy while I was a more muscular brunette.

    He suddenly started to kiss me, making me snap out of the day dreaming about our bodies. The hot tongue invaded my mouth, Chris kneaded my tongue. I answered back by softly biting his lips, letting him control the pace right now. His fingers were stretching me to the max point and beyond, I was in awe feeling my hole aching under the pressure. Chris knew I loved feeling it, the sensation of my asshole breaking and prolapsing.

    He took his face away from mine, we had wet lips and some saliva ran down to my chin. Chris gave me a big horny smile.

    “It’s about time… Let’s do it! But first, let me see your hole bro. I want to see how big it is now”. I straddled against his crotch, his fingers left my pink, over stretched eighteen year old anus. Looking down there, there was a really wet spot on his shirt and a puddle on his shorts. We had been precumming a lot lately.

    He moved around removing his shirt. His abs were lean and defined, fuzzy blond hair covering them. The hairy chest on display turned me on. 

    Then, he started pushing his shorts and underwear down, I helped him to take it to his feet and to take it off. His penis was some of the greatest views. We had both cut cocks. He had a hairy crotch, the big red penis head bobbed up and down. It was so thick I couldn’t close my hand around it. I licked his head, but there was a rush to show him my hole. That blowjob could wait a bit, I had already sucked on his beautiful veiny cock so many times. It was a very special time to me whenever I got to suck his dick and he fingered my hole.

    Getting to stand over him I opened my silky cushions pointing them towards his dick. 

    My fingers repeated the same movement he had done earlier. I could feel how much his bigger fingers had stretched me out, my middle and index fingers entered my puffy anal ring easily. I parted it around presenting my almost two inches diameter gaping anus. Again, I pushed out letting my hole fall inside out, exposing my blooming rectum walls to my own brother.

    “Holy shit. Bro, your hole is incredible. Fucking sexy!” Chris awed with the sight. I looked down to see his penis spurting precum, he was dripping all over his slightly hairy balls to my teen prolapsing butthole, to his lil bro!

    There was no waste of time, as soon as he closed his lips, he quickly moved around making his way to my ass. I could feel the warm tongue licking my anal petals, worshipping my inside out rectum folds. He was getting inside, easily pushing my pinkish anal flower back in. His jaw opened up, Chris wanted to make his tongue go in as deep as possible. 

    That tongue moved around making its way to my horny walls. I could feel my guts pulsing. It was an incredible feeling, having my bigger brother licking so deep inside me, eagerly hitting my sensitive rectum. I clenched and relaxed reflexively, he kept munching on my ass for a few minutes while kneading my asscheeks.

    Chris was a genuine ass and anal lover, letting him rim me so deeply on Christmas was proof that he enjoyed worshipping me. He did it for all these years even when we were just kids! My cock was leaking pre all over him who was laying almost directly under me. 

    “Sit down, I want to put my precum inside you.” He wanted to stuff me with it and I obeyed.

    Chris was sitting down, his legs started to open up a bit. I moved towards his crotch again, now lowering down my hips to his lap when I sat down. His cock took over my butt crack, it slid up and down. I realized how wet we both were, my hole and his cock. 

    “Open it just like before.” He sweetly asked while smiling as I looked back. My fingers were parting the reddish anus once again. He moved a bit, allowing his spear head to be pointed right at my entrance. I needed to fart, there was so much air getting inside. 

    “Can I fart Chris? There’s a lot inside now…” He just kept his horny smirk.

    “Of course you can, you can do anything to me bro. You know I love you and your hole no matter what…” I loved that freedom we had, if anything happened I was sure I was safe with Chris.

    My hole was farting, the hot insides were quivering around and wet, low splashes sounds were made. Chris’ precum was leaking around me as I farted out. I didn’t know at the time, but I have a natural skill at controlling my hole’s muscles.

    When I pushed it really hard to fart, some of my rectum meat lowered down, it made its way out of my swelled up asslips again, my prolapse was rubbing right against my brother’s dick tip. I bloomed all over his precumming charming huge cock.

    “Fuck, Bill I had never seen your hole like this before, your insides are coming out a lot more than the last time!” Chris always wanted me to do it more and more. This last year focusing on forcing my inners out was very good for that, we really loved prolapse training! My asshole meat was sticking out an inch or so. The insides went back to their place and Chris protested.

    “Let me rub my cock on it some more”. I pushed them out again.

    My fingers left my hole, I was using my hands to pull my ass cheeks apart. His wet precum rubbed all over my meaty rose. It felt really hot, his big thick head soaking my eighteen years old prolapsed hole we had broken over the years. He rubbed it faster and faster. We were kind of young and kind of dumb. Chris wanted to fuck my hole, but was a bit insecure to do it right now. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to overcome that incestuous edge.

    “Chris… Just put it in!” I begged spreading myself harder.

    “But, but… It’s your shithole… It’s so wrong…” He kept rubbing himself on my rosebud.

    “We already turned it into my sex hole, just…” I felt him pressing against me while I was speaking.

    “Sorry baby bro, you’re my younger bro, but I wanna fuck you up your dumpy hole so much!”

    Chris slid inside me with his fat eight inches breaking through my rectum! I had already had big things in my colon, but his fat cock invading my bowels made me fart anal wetness on him. There was so much cock burning though my anal tubes, so much fat dick pulsing against my rectum as he molested my round bubbly cheeks! 

    His precum and saliva were leaking out of it, my own cock was dripping in excitement. I doubt a girl would get this wet for cock destroying her bowels!

    “Do you really want my cock in your craphole?” He was a bit nervous with his shaky hands groping my ass.

    “If it was just a craphole we wouldn’t be stretching and stuffing it so hard! Your dick feels perfect in my dumpy, I love your cock in my pooper because that’s the perfect place for sex and I feel it so much even in my bladder and prostate… I want to do nasty butt destruction with my big bro until I feel like I have to shit my guts inside out for you!” I rubbed myself against him pushing back to force my second hole to open, to slide that cock of his up my colon.

    “Damn bro, that’s really warm and really perfect… Can I make love to you in your pooper lil bro? I wanna drive myself up your turd hole so hard!” He was slotting it in, driving his fat blond cock even deeper up my second hole to make me squirt pee.

    “Yeah, yeah… I feel clogged in there… Soo good…” I was struggling with the perfect filling of my rectum, the very first time I had his cock in my second hole piercing into so deep. “Make love to me… Right in me… In your lil bro’s pooper!” The bare warmth of his thick meat stretching my aching pressured cavity, rubbing on my prostate and even hurting my bladder was so good!

    “Come on here!” Chris moved us once he was balls deep up my round muscular teen ass. He grabbed my legs up bringing my knees to my shoulders to start pounding my hole while leaving me vulnerable to his will. “I’m gonna fuck up those big cheeks, big time bro… Let me rape your fuckpipes!”

    “Rape… Rape me in my pooper!” I begged for it to have him kiss me. His hips moved to leave me startled. Chris had failed a year in school so we were both new high school seniors. That made me think he wasn’t so capable for some reason.

    The way he held me with a strong grip, the thrusting into my anal hole was savagely pleasing. His energetic violence came in with rushing continuous impaling of my guts, in his desire to fill up my bowels, he left me with a limp cock and aching desire. I couldn’t concentrate on my dick to keep an erection, everything was rushing to make me focus on deep anal sex. Chris knew how to be brutal and I adored the way he painfully broke my hole wrecking all my sensitive spots.

    He followed up kissing me again. I had my hands trying to take him away and my body trying to squirm away, I even tried to speak. Chris didn’t hear, he didn’t stop. He just kept me in place forcing me to withstand his vicious pistoning. He was truly raping me up to my colon, making my butthole extremely fiery, forcing me take the painful anal destruction and the wild overwhelming anal stuffing pleasure. It was even humiliating how my butthole talked back to him, how it gurgled in ass noises shedding more wetness all over his pole.

    It had me shivering, my cock was throbbing, streaming precum and even squirting piss. My limp dick felt somewhat good even if I failed to keep an erection. It was justified: all the focus was really on my hole. There was way more pleasure on the gratifying anal delight of feeling my guts getting wrecked. 

    The way his thick meat already made me want to push out by itself, but the violent thrusting into my rectum followed by the delectable ruination of my colon provoked my guts to react. I was forcibly pushing out for him to plunge in further subjugating my anus, further stretching my ass pipes while holding me in place. He blasted my anal lips while ripping apart all my internal rings.

    “Fuck yeah!” He shouted when my hole rocketed his cock out. I was trembling in shock. My own limp cock was squirting cum, I couldn’t quite feel it though. All I felt was my very heavy anal contractions, so heavy I prolapsed all over his cock. “Don’t worry baby bro, I have seen this in porn. It’s a full anal orgasm and some sluts describe it as the maximum burning feeling, a lot of need to shit, but much more pleasing… I’m so glad you came from your guts getting ruined!” He kissed my neck. “Grab my dick and slap your prolapse lil bro, fuck… I ruined my baby bro and I love how I broke your dumpy!” 

    I was speechless when grabbing his cock to slap it against my blooming rectum. He was right, I had lost all my bowel control and pushed out due to these contractions. It was as if he had overwhelmed my sensitive insides from being so violent with them. Both my bladder and prostate were overexcited alongside my rectum and colon. That was so perfect, to cum from full anal joy! To fully orgasm from perverted incestuous anal destruction with my big bro and to feel so much relief from it!

    “Can we do that again?” I pointed him to my gaped bitch hole when my prolapse receded back in.

    “I wanna do that so many times to you baby bro!” The heavy thrusting began once more, but Chris wasn’t able to hold it. He started cumming a couple minutes in with his chin on my shoulder as he looked at my bouncing limp, piss and squirting cock.

    The joy of being a legal teen getting filled with my older teen brother’s cum took over me. He finally let go of my legs so I could properly lie on my back on the bed and spread my legs for him.

    “Push out all that cream pie baby boy…”

    I prolapsed myself letting him suck on it. Chris came up to kiss my lips with his cum and my anal wetness. He started jerking off my cock until I shot two cum ropes on his hand. I didn’t have much left after dripping so much cum from the anal destruction.

    “Good boy…” He licked my sperm on his hand and I led myself to kiss him. Chris was already fisting me, he was forcing my pained ass to swallow his hand and making me pee on his bed. “Such a delicate boy penis!” He always enjoyed rubbing it even though Chris was way more focused on my ass.

    “Boys, uncle Bryan will be here soon!” Our mother shouted from downstairs. She and dad were going to some friend’s house for lunch. Our uncle, who was a big football player, was set to spend Christmas day.

    “Fuck… I wanna be gay with my lil bro and breed you again, but we can’t!” Chris complained.

    “We can do it later.”

    We went to the showers to get ready for the rest of the day. My big bro was all over my cheeks, we couldn’t play much with it though. I could only hope to have even more buttsex with Chris, as much as we could.


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


  • Mark Stevens Meets Ted and Alice

    Alice and Ted had been my new neighbors for a few months. They seemed like a nice couple. They moved down here to Indiana from northern Minnesota to live close to their married son and daughter and their families. And, presumably to get away from the cold winters in Minnesota. They should have kept going south because the winters here in Indiana aren’t that much better. 

    Both were recently retired. Ted has been an HR manager while Alice was a registered nurse. I’m guessing they were between 65 and 70 years old. They were a nice-looking couple for their ages. Friendly, too. Both liked to golf and Alice was newly into pickle ball – the retiree’s version of real tennis. 

    Since they had moved in, I only saw Ted a few times working out in the yard. He pretty much kept to himself. He only spoke if I made the effort first. That was okay by me. Alice was a lot friendlier. If she saw me out in my yard, she would always come over to the fence for a quick chat. I probably talked to her a couple times each week since they’d been here. For her age, she was quite attractive with shoulder length, jet black hair. Probably dyed but who knows for sure? She reminded me a lot of my mother and even more of my grandmother due to her age. Ted reminded me a little bit of my grandfather. Both of them together brought back memories of the time I fucked my grandfather, and my goddam sexy grandmother used a strap on to fuck me. Ah, the good old days although they really weren’t that long ago. 

    A few times when I saw Ted, he appealed to my ever-growing gay desires. When he would mow his yard, he usually didn’t wear a shirt. For his age, I have to say he was in pretty good shape. Strong chest and biceps. Nothing flabby about the guy. Quite fit for his age. I have to admit I jerked off to him more than once since they had moved in. His age didn’t matter to me. I had fucked my father and my own grandfather. As long as the guy looked good, age didn’t matter to me. Young, old, I liked cock on nice-looking guys. Cock always got me hard. 

    And yes, I did the same thinking about Alice. Jerking off I mean.  I figured I had a better chance of getting in her pants than Ted’s since they had kids and grandkids. Ted looked like a pretty straight arrow. But so do I, so you never know. In any event, I wasn’t ruling either one of them out for a long, or short-term fucking relationship. Isn’t that what good neighbors are for?  If you can’t fuck a neighbor (in a good way), who can you fuck? 

    From what I could tell when we talked over the fence, Alice had larger-than-average-sized breasts. She always liked to leave a little cleavage showing, too. I enjoyed that. Her legs were long and shapely for a mid-60s age grandma. In fact, she liked to show them off when she golfed, played the courts, or just sat out on their patio. She never wore shorts or skirts longer than mid-thigh which showed off her legs nicely. I didn’t mind. When she came over to the fence last Thursday, I was eager to talk to her.  That’s when things started to get interesting. 

    “Hi Mark, how have you been? It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen you out in the yard. I’ve missed chatting with you.” 

    “Hi Alice, Yes, I’ve been out of town a few weeks. I’ve been traveling for my job and just got back last night as a matter of fact. I’ve missed talking to you, too. How have you and Ted been doing?” 

    “Oh, we’re doing fine thanks.” She paused for a few seconds. She looked around, started and paused again. One of those “awkward pauses” in conversation you hear about. I could tell she was unusually nervous. Nervous as Hell.   

    “Ted thinks you’re sexy.” 

    What did she just say? No way I heard that right. 

    “Excuse me, what did you just say? Ted thinks I’m sixty? I’m twenty-six, not sixty!” 

    Laughing, she said, “NO, NO, Ted thinks you’re sexy, not sixty. I do too, but Ted talks about you all the time. Every time he sees you he says that. He’s jealous of your body. I think he has a little thing for you, haha.” 

    “Umm, okay, I’m really not sure what to say about that Alice. Is this something we should be talking about? Your husband telling you he thinks I’m sexy. I guess that’s a compliment, but it’s unusual for a husband to tell his wife he finds another man attractive. Isn’t it?” 

    “Oh no. It’s much more than that Mark. More complicated. Ted has fantasized about being with another man, or a teen boy for years. Ever since we got married to be honest. But the small town where we come from, it’s not something you do. At least not easily, or out in the open. Since we moved here and we’re now retired, his desire to be with a man – at least to try it – has come back to him stronger than ever. When we first moved in and he saw you, he told me you made those urges come back like never before. 

    Last night when we went to bed, I could hear him playing with himself. Stroking his cock. Whispering your name. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me he was thinking about his mouth going down on your cock. Sucking the whole thing. Swallowing your cum. And more. He finally had to set up on the edge of the bed to relieve himself. He masturbated all over the floor. Seeing him do that while thinking about you got me so hot that I started fingering myself. I came all over my panties. It was the best orgasm I’d had in five years! 

    To be honest, I’ve always wanted to see Ted with another man. I have bisexual feelings myself, although I’ve never had the opportunity to act on them. But the thought of seeing my husband with another man is a real turn on for me. We even watch gay porn together just to have some fun. 

    I know there is quite a bit of an age difference between you and Ted, but would you be interested in spending an evening with us?” 

    “Alice, wow this is really weird. I guess I’m flattered that Ted finds me attractive, but I’m not…” 

    Before I could finish my half lie, she interrupted me. 

    “Gay? You mean you’re not gay? No, no. We never thought you were. I never meant to imply that. But I’m sure hot guys like you like to have your cock sucked. Right? Ted just wants to experience that at least once. The feel of a man’s cock shooting jizz in his throat. It’s been a fantasy of his…well mine too, for a long time. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy a great blowjob. You don’t have to reciprocate in any way. You can just pretend it’s your first high school crush. You don’t have to be gay to enjoy a good cock-sucking, right? 

    “Alice you’re talking about your husband having sex with another man. Your husband of what 30-40 years? And you’re okay seeing him suck your neighbor’s cock and possibly more? I’m not sure there are many wives who are that understanding, or willing to share their husband. Especially, with another man.” 

    “Yes, well, our sex life isn’t what it used to be. We need to spice it up a bit. And again you don’t have to do anything. You can pretend it’s a female giving you a blow job. Getting a blowjob from Ted won’t turn you into a homosexual. Well, unless you really like it, haha! 

    I just want to see Ted live out his fantasy. The only rule is that I get to watch. You guys can’t be alone when this happens. That’s if you agree to do it. I’ve had dreams of watching Ted go down on another man; especially a young guy like you for years. So what do you think, Mark? You up to seeing what it’s like to have your cock sucked by another man? It won’t make you gay, I promise.” 

    Hell, this wasn’t close to being as taboo as when I had sex with my dad. Or with my grandfather and grandmother, but it was pretty damn wild. And I wouldn’t even have to tell them that I was into them as much as they were into me. And I certainly wouldn’t have to tell them that this wouldn’t be my first time with a man, or even a teenage boy. 

    “Mark, why don’t you think about it? If you’re interested, come over for drinks tonight around 7 and we’ll see how things go from there. No pressure. But I think you might enjoy a blowjob from Ted. And don’t worry about thinking you might be gay. It’s just a blowjob. I’m sure you’ve had your cock sucked many, many times. Right?  This is just one more.” 

    She put her hand on mine as she was turning away. The feeling was electric. This woman, this grandma, just invited me to put my cock in her husband’s mouth and shoot cum down his throat. While she watched. And I could pretend I was a virgin to gay sex. Fuck, where do I sign up for this? 

    “Okay Alice. Let me think about it. If I’m not there by 7 I’m not coming. Don’t be offended if I don’t come. I’m just not sure about being with a man. With a man old enough to be my grandfather.” 

    Of course, that was a lie, but I didn’t need to tell her that.  At least not yet.  As she turned away, I couldn’t help but notice how nice her ass was. Not for a woman her age, but for a woman of any age. I might agree to let Ted suck me just for the chance to see her with all of her clothes off.   

    “That’s fine Mark. But seeing that wet spot on the front of your jeans makes me think Ted and I will be seeing you tonight. I certainly hope that’s what that cum stain means.” 

    Damn, I knew my cock was pushing against my pants, but I didn’t know I was leaking precum too. Busted. She just smiled as she walked away. A knowing smile so certain that I’d be over to get my cock drained. While she fingered herself watching her husband suck cock. 

    What she didn’t know is that I wouldn’t be happy without some reciprocation of what I got. I didn’t know what Ted’s cock was like, but I wouldn’t leave their home before I found out. 

    When I arrived, Alice answered the door and kissed me on the cheek. Ted wasn’t far behind. He was much taller than I thought he was. While Alice had almost jet black hair, Ted’s hair was mostly white. Not gray. White. Thick too. He had a nice summer tan. He was wearing one of those muscle T-shirts that showed his very strong biceps, especially for his age. It wasn’t one of those white beater T-shirts. This was a dark navy blue that looked good against his skin. He was wearing a pair of white golf shorts that showed his nicely tanned legs. I admit he looked pretty damn hot for a grandpa. 

    “Come on in son. How’s my boy today?” 

    Oh my, does this guy have an incest fantasy that he was never able to work out with his own son? Maybe this is going to be better than I even thought. I already fucked my own dad and was fucked by him. So if this guy wanted to pretend to be my dad for an evening that was fine by me. My cock got even harder than it was on the way over. 

    “I’m real good dad. How are you? I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve missed you.” 

    I went to kiss him. Not on the cheek like Alice kissed me, but full on the lips. I put my tongue in his mouth and my hands on his ass. I could feel his hardon up against mine. Fuck this is gonna be good. 

    “Son, why don’t you come over here and sit in the chair with your dad and tell me how much you missed me?” 

    He sat down first. I sat on his lap with my arms draped around his neck. I leaned down to kiss him. Not as his son. But as his incestuous son and lover. If I was going to get him off, I was going to go all the way to do it. As soon as my lips touched his, he opened his mouth to let my tongue in. He put his tongue in my mouth, just the same as my own father and my grandfather did months before. It was the best incest kiss I’ve had since then. 

    I could hear Alice moaning in the background. I turned to look back at her. She had pulled down her skirt and her panties were lying on the floor. Her thigh high stockings were still tight against her sexy legs. She was stroking her pussy. Of the three of us, I don’t know who was the most turned on. As we continued to kiss, Ted spread my legs and started fondling the area over my cock. At the same time, I could feel his cock pushing upwards in his own crotch, so I started fondling him as well. He felt big and hard at this point. Like the daddy cock I loved. I didn’t know what else he was doing, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to fondle my cock. Our kissing was very erotic and I didn’t want it to stop.  

    “Oh son! You don’t know how many years I’ve wanted to touch my boy’s cock. This is a dream come true for your daddy. Kiss me, son.” 

    “I’ve wanted you, too, Dad. For as long as I can remember. I’ve wanted to taste your cock. I want to make love to you. And I want you to make love to me. I need you.  Tonight.” 

    “Yes, yes son I’m going to make love to you tonight. . I’m going to suck your cock and I’ll do whatever else you want me to do. I’m going to make you feel so good my lovely boy.” 

    “Oh yeah dad. I want you to take my cock in your mouth. I want you to suck my cock and balls. I want you to swallow my cum dad. I want to feel your dick in my ass. I want you to fuck my pussy. Please fuck me tonight while mom watches us.” 

    “Oh yes, son. Oh yes. I want mom to see me fuck you. She has wanted that for a long time and I want to give it to her. I want her to see her husband fuck the son that came out of her hairy pussy. Your mom has dreamed of seeing me fuck you since you were a teenager.” 

    Alice stroked her pussy even harder hearing Ted say that. 

    Before I let Ted have his way with my cock and my ass, I wanted his first. I slid off of his lap down to my knees. I unbuckled his pants sliding his shorts and underwear off of his sexy, tanned legs and ass. His cock was so beautiful. Hard and sticking straight up. I pushed his legs apart to get as close to his cock as possible. I moved my mouth to the piss slit of his cock sticking my tongue into it. He loved that. Alice started moaning and fingering her cunt, even more when she saw me put my mouth over the head of his cock, I went down on Ted as far as I could. My lips against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. He tasted so good. Just like my grandpa did before. I pumped up and down and squeezed his cock with my mouth as hard as I could. He moved to the edge of the chair so that I could lick his balls. They tasted good. Daddy balls. I went back to suck his cock, but only for a minute. I did not want him to cum – yet. I wanted that sweet daddy juice saved for my ass. 

    I turned him over in the chair where I had a perfect view of his ass. I’m buried my tongue into his ass crack as far as I could. I ran my tongue up and down the full length of his ass slit so that Alice could get a better look at her husband’s gay ass. I grabbed his stiff cock with my hand while I tongued his ass even deeper. Alice was absolutely in heaven seeing me asslick her husband.

     “Yeah, Mark. Lick your dad’s ass. Lick it. I love it son. Lick your father for mommy. Show me how to do it baby. Show me how to tongue fuck daddy.” 

    Fuck, I just came over for a blowjob. I was getting that and a whole lot more. I was already wondering when I could come back for another session. 

    “Son, stop! You’re going to make me cum.  I want to suck your cock first. I need your cock in my mouth.” 

    So, I pulled my face away from Ted’s ass. I stood up and let him get on his knees to suck my cock. I was hoping I could put my cock in his tight ass while I was still rock hard. But I knew his fantasy was to suck my cock imagining that he was sucking his own son. 

    Maybe my cock was Ted’s first time sucking one. Maybe not. Either way, he knew what he was doing. He put his hands on my naked ass and went down to take the whole thing in one swallow. He wanted all eight inches in his mouth, or throat if need be. He pumped up and down, making my cock want to shoot hot cum into his mouth. I held it as long as I could, but once his finger touched my ass, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I held the back of his head tight so I could shove my cock as hard as I could into the back of his mouth. Like a good daddy, when I came in his mouth he never let a drop go to waste. I had no cum left. He stood up to kiss me and filled my mouth with some of the cum that I had just put in his mouth. God I love that. The feel of a man putting my cum from his mouth back into mine. I absolutely love it. The taste yes. But the depravity of it, too. 

    “Fuck him. Fuck him Ted.” Fuck your boy. Fuck your son. Fuck your boy Ted. Fuck your little boy’s pussy. Like you’ve always wanted to Ted.” 

    I heard Alice screaming those words in the background. Father and son incest turned Alice on as much as it did me and Ted. Maybe more. Damn, she was a wild woman, grandmother, or not. 

    Ted did as Alice told him to do. He grabbed both of my hips and pushed his cock into my ass with one shove. Fuck, I wasn’t ready for one mad push like that. But once he got past the entrance to my ass and all the way in, I was fine. God, it felt wonderful. 

    “Fuck me dad, fuck me. Daddy, fuck your little bitch. Fuck your boy’s creamy ass dad. I love you so much.” 

    “I love you too, son. I love your hot cunt.” 

    Feeling the head of his daddy dick touch the very bottom of my cunt, I was trying hard not to cum. I moaned every time he pulled out and I grunted every time he pushed back in. Fuck I can still feel today one of the best fucks I’ve ever had. It was going to be a hot juicy mess when he came in my ass. My pussy was already filled with some of Ted’s hot leaking cum. 

    “Oh son, I cannot hold it any longer. I’m gonna cum in your ass son. I’m cumming in your ass boy, Here it comes. Take it in your ass boy, while mommy watches.” 

    And then he fell on me. He was totally spent. I don’t think he had an ounce of cum left in his entire body. Alice was getting ready to cum, too. I asked her to put her cunt in my face so that I could taste her juices, too. She was more than willing. 

    After cleaning up Alice’s pussy, I turned around to go back to Ted. 

    “Oh dad, thank you for that. I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel. I bent down to kiss him. I grabbed and fondled his cock even though it was soft by now. I kissed him again, like the first time. 

    “I love you dad.”

     

    “Thanks. Thanks Mark. Thanks for helping me fulfill an incest fantasy that I’ve always had but could never explore with my own son. You made it feel so real like we were really father and son. And, as you can see, Alice enjoyed it, too. Have you ever had similar incest fantasies like this?” 

    “Ted, I’ve got so many incest and other taboo fantasies that it would take a week to tell you half of them. Yeah, I’ve had this fantasy with my father, my grandfather, and even my grandmother. I think a lot of us do, even if we don’t admit it. When Alice proposed this today, I acted like I wasn’t sure about it. In reality, I came three times today before I even got over here just thinking about doing what we did. The first time I saw you two, I was fantasizing about something like this. Tonight was a dream come true. I thought you’d be a good fuck. I was right about that. I hope tonight is the first of many. And I’m willing to try anything else you guys might have in mind.” 

    “Mark, son, that sounds great. Is there anything we can do that would make a dream come true for you?”

    “Well, since you asked. I’ve always wanted to be fucked by a woman – preferably my mother –who uses a strap on dildo to fuck me, while I’m sucking her husband and gulping down his semen. I’d like her to strap her dick on tight and fuck me hard. Make me her boy bitch.” 

    “Mark, you just mentioned one of Alice’s top fantasies.” 

    A few minutes later Alice returned wearing a fat, black 12” strap on dildo telling me to get on my knees. She guided Ted’s now hard again cock into my mouth and told me to start sucking. She lubed up her cock, put it up against the crack in my ass and shoved it in just like Ted did with his real cock. She grabbed on to my shoulders and pushed into my ass telling me she loved me. I didn’t take all 12 inches of Alice, but I took as much as I could. If she takes a cock as good as she gives one, she’s going to be some fun. 

    “Mommy’s gonna fuck your ass, just like your father did. Now swallow Ted’s cum while I finish getting off.” 

    And that’s what I did. I went down on Ted as far as I could while Alice made one deep, violent thrust into my cunt. I swallowed every drop he had, kissed him again, and told both of them I’d be back. These people were wild and I couldn’t wait to help fill their next fantasies. 

    “Mark, would you be interested in helping us see if we could get our real son to join us in the future?” 

    I told you these people are wild. 


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  • Two Eyes on Me: kiss, sex and suck

    I logged into that site without a clear purpose, more out of habit than desire. Still, when the message arrived, I felt something different — not urgency, but curiosity. His words were carefully chosen, as if he knew exactly how much to reveal. At first, he spoke of partnership, of something shared. Later, the story shifted, as if improvisation were part of the game. Strangely enough, that only sharpened my attention.

    I agreed to meet with a calm that didn’t match the subtle tightness in my chest. The meeting point felt far too neutral for what was being suggested. As I approached the car, I felt two gazes settle on me at the same time. Leo held mine steadily; Marcos looked away and back again, as if measuring me in silence. At that moment, we were already three — even before a single word was spoken.

    The drive to Marcos’s place was short, but mentally endless. The silence inside the car wasn’t uncomfortable; it was dense. Every movement, every glance in the rearview mirror seemed to carry an unspoken question. I felt I wasn’t there merely as a guest, but as a piece of something slowly taking shape.

    The apartment welcomed us with lighting too dim to be accidental. I took off my jacket slowly, aware of every gesture, every breath that seemed louder than it should be. We stood close, yet untouched. It was as if the space between us was the true center of the scene — alive, charged, provoking.

    Leo carried a firm, almost controlled presence. Marcos, on the other hand, seemed to blend into the atmosphere, as though he naturally accepted the role of feeling before acting. I watched them, while at the same time feeling watched. There was no rush, only a quiet construction of intentions.

    Nothing needed to be said for everything to be understood. The atmosphere suggested paths, possibilities, combinations. I realized it wasn’t about two separate encounters, but something triangular forming in the air. The sensation of being desired by two different gazes at once stirred the mind more than any direct contact ever could.

    Marcos approached me and we started kissing, our cocks rubbing together. We took off the rest of the clothes we were still wearing. Marcos sucked my cock with gusto, while Leo watched everything. Then I started licking his ass until my jaw hurt. That’s when he asked me to fuck him. Leo came closer, grabbed Marcos’s ass, looked at me and said: “Fuck this little slut’s ass!”

    I started fucking him while he was lying face down on the bed. His ass was delicious, loose, really nice to pound, and he was a little slut in bed too, letting out really nice moans and always asking for more cock. He really liked it when I went harder. He sat on top of me with great pleasure and that’s when he came on top of me. Then Leo asked if I came, I said no, he came closer, licked all the semen that was on my body and then started sucking me. I could feel the head of my penis inside his throat, he was sucking with such desire… I warned him I was going to cum, he increased the intensity of his sucking… I ended up cumming in his mouth. He looked at me with a mischievous look and wiped the corner of his mouth.

    As the night began to dissolve, there was no sense of closure — only suspension. As if something had been initiated, but deliberately left unfinished. What didn’t happen there gained even more power precisely because it remained in the realm of imagination.

    On the way back, Leo said something in a low, almost confessional tone, revealing a desire that until then had seemed contained. I listened without responding right away. Some stories don’t ask for answers — they ask for time. And as I continued on my way, I knew that night had not been an ending, but a prelude.


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  • The Journey

    I will never forget the first time me and the Master spoke. It started out so casual.. an online connection. He was cool, calm and collected. He wasn’t like the other masters who had tried to get pushy and nasty. This time it was a man who has confidence and natural authority – he wasn’t there to push or force, but with an air of expectation he lead me to do what he told me. To do what he wanted. To comply with his wishes. I was nervous of course, and I was wary. What if he recorded my cam sessions? What if he exposed me? What if he blackmailed me? Everything I was doing felt so risky and yet I felt this deep need to simply listen to his voice and to make him happy. 

    At first it was simple things – such as stripping me on camera, making me show my hole, making me massage my hole. He allowed me to do it without my face on show at first, but then slowly he pushed me further. If I wanted his attention, if I wanted his approval, I needed to keep obeying, keep going deeper and keep allowing myself to be transformed by him. And in spite of all my better judgment, I did want his approval; I DID want his attention. I had an urge to simply be HIS.

    Those early cam sessions moved along quite quickly. I grew to trust the Master and to let myself slide into being who he wanted me to be. As the trust grew I thought nothing of being naked on camera with my face on show. I began to like the feeling of him seeing all of me and being in control. Being naked turned into hole play. Hole play turned into degradation, until he decided it was time for me to take a step further. He wanted to see me used and abused for real, live on stream.

    I said no, of course. I couldn’t begin to contemplate having a mouth full of cock while a camera was pointing at me, live streaming it to a Master at the other side of the world. And yet…! And yet… Once I knew it’s what he wanted, it began to have a corrosive impact on my will. I found myself wanking over the thought. I found myself wanting it. Not because I wanted to take the risk or to be watched sucking cock, but because HE wanted me to. Just like that I began to crave the idea.. I knew I was only deserving of his attention if I was willing to obey. Willing to comply. Willing to let go. And so in a matter of just a few days or weeks, I found myself begging to be watched sucking cock. The Master had ideas.. he would have me advertise on a dating app and he would choose who I sucked. My mouth, as far as he was concerned, was his property now and he would decide what it got filled with. 

    I was apprehensive to try but a few days of being banned from orgasms got me ready to do anything I was told, and so one Friday night I begged to be allowed to fulfil my Master’s desires. It was simple to set up the profile and with great nervousness and apprehension I filled it out:

    “Submissive slave looking for cock to suck. My master wants to watch on camera as I service a man. Who is up for it?” 

    I thought perhaps this was a little niche but it seemed a few guys were up for it and my adrenaline pumped as I realised how much I was letting go. I sent screenshots of the profiles to my Master and awaited his response. He picked a mixed race man who lived a short drive away from me and I drove over to his area of town. The guy was very average looking, if not a little on the unattractive side, but then I got the distinct impression from my Master that this was an added bonus. He didn’t want me to enjoy it, but simply to learn I existed to please other men. He said my mission was to become all about pleasing cock, not thinking of my own enjoyment.

    The Master was tall, bear-like and a real man. He was a gay king and it became apparent very quickly he was an absolute expert in getting guys who were apprehensive, but showed a submissive streak, to surrender to him and to put themselves under his control.

    I sat nervously in my car with the phone in hand. “I’m here” I wrote, to both the Master and the hook up. I gulped. I was about to suck the cock of a guy I wasn’t even attracted to because a Master had told me to .. and it was the biggest rush ever. I stepped out of my car and walked towards the front door.. I knocked with confidence but that isn’t how I was feeling inside. I was greeted by a South Asian man, a bit taller than me with an average build and a bit of a gut. He welcomed me in and I reminded him I would need to call my Master now. I was lead to the host’s bedroom and as I knelt on the floor, my Master answered the call. I knelt there and the host’s flaccid cock was placed before my face.

    “Suck it” I heard through the call.

    I began to suck it slowly and it stiffened in my mouth. My host held the sides of my head while I gripped his leg with one hand and held the phone with the other.

    “Good boy” my Master said, with an air of perverted sexual pleasure in his voice. This drove me wild. My own cock throbbed but I was banned from touching that. I simply had to focus entirely on my host. He moaned as I bobbed my head up and down on the meat, pulling out, kissing and licking it, licking the balls and the head, before sliding it right past my lips again and pushing as far as I could. I gagged. 

    “Keep going” my host said.

    “Yes, keep going slut” I heard through the phone.

    I had never felt anything like this. I didn’t fancy the this man and yet I was hungrily sucking his meat and gripping his leg as my Master made his enjoyment clear through the phone. I felt the cock pulsate in my mouth and I sucked all the more furiously. The next moment I felt it exploded in my mouth, gushing semen into my mouth and throat and all over my tongue. My master groaned with enjoyment. This was just what he had envisaged from me and I had executed it to his exact commands.

    I stood up and asked to use the bathroom. I didn’t get to cum – I wasn’t there for that after all. I ended the call with my Master and went and sat in my car outside. I was horned up and so still felt very slutty. A little bad, yes.. but mainly just pumped full of adrenaline and actually a little bit pleased with myself that I had given my Master exactly what he wanted.

    My phone buzzed and I looked down at the notification screen: “time to go again, faggot”.

  • The Officers’ New Addiction

    Detective Michael Counihan was the deputy in BW Police Station, tall, muscular, with sharp facial features. He has great pecs and a nice firm ass. He has a very gruff and stern voice, his masculine tone oozing with authority.

    He’s now investigating the missing case of several bankers, including Andrea, Kevin, Zac and Denis. After researching into the last place of signals, Officer Counihan decided to go to Stercomaster’s restaurant for further investigation. He was the leader of the Criminal Investigation Division and the Missing Persons Unit.

    Stood with Counihan was another hunky officer, Blake Radcliff. His chiseled face is highlighted by a well – groomed beard and captivating, clear – eyed gaze. His short, neatly styled hair adds to his professional and handsome look. When seen outside of his uniform, his muscular physique is truly a sight to behold. His chest and arms are covered in detailed, artistic tattoos that give him a rugged edge. Every muscle is well – defined, from the bulging biceps to the sculpted abs. His broad back, adorned with an intricate tattoo, showcases his strength as he exercises.

    Both officers have been in the ST city for weeks and been keeping their eyes on Stercomaster’s restaurant. The location in the deserted town already indicated abnormality.

    After discussion, Michael and Blake decided to go to meet the owner. They was received by the guard Gianluca, who led them into the restaurant. On entering, both keen cops noticed a faint stink in the air. They frowned, also noticing there’s no else in the restaurant. The distinct smell that lingered in the air. It wasn’t immediately noticeably sharp, but as soon as the cops took a deep breath, it hit them like a ton of bricks.

    “Please follow me, my master is already waiting for you.” Gianluca walked in front. Blake looked at the guard’s huge plumb round butt that’s ripe for the taking, thinking this is one hell of an ass. He could smell the stink from the guard’s ass, even through his leather pants. He watched those muscular asscheeks bounce with every step even through the Gianluca’s pants. On top of the smell emanating from the guard’s ass, there’s another stink lingering in the air, a mix of masculine sweat and stale piss and shit in outhouse. Blake curled his nose and tried his best to breathe through his mouth. Now and then he waved a hand in front of his face to disperse the stink.

    On entering Stercomaster’s office, the cops were suddenly hit by a strong blast of stink that almost fainted them. It smelt as if a tens of asses had been farting in the room. The thick shitty smell was stronger than anything the cop had smelt. But as professional cops, they quickly shook out of it and regained their clear mind and saw the huge well-groomed suited man sitting behind the desk.

    Michael immediately didn’t like the man in front of him. Years of dealing with criminal cases gave him the ability to recognize the well-hidden evil in the man’s eyes. He looked at Blake, and saw the same suspicion in his eyes.

    “Nice meeting you, officers.” Stercomaster went to shake hand with them. That’s when the cops noticed the rancid shitty stench was from Stercomaster’s body.

    Blake collected his mind, sitting in front of the man across the desk with Counihan. “As I said before in my telephone, I came here for the missing cases of several bankers.”

    The air in the office was thick with the reek of raw sewage and rotting feces, a suffocating cloud that seemed to claw at the officers lungs and burn their eyes. Every breath was a struggle, the foul odor invading their senses, yet there was something inexplicably magnetic about it—a dark, primal pull that overrode their revulsion. But at moment, they couldn’t pay much attention to the stink.

    “I understand but I’m not sure how I can help you, officer.” Stercomaster put his feet in socks on the desk.

    Both cops’ noses were hit by the strongest feet odor. It smelt like the man hadn’t washed his feet for years. Michael looked down on Stercomaster’s white sock that was deeply brown and his partner Blake also looked at the right foot that placed before him.

    It seemed Stercomaster just took his feet out of a leather shoe, the smell was free of the shoes containment. Michael winced at the smell, he thought he was going to jump back and recoil from the smell, or cover his nose, but instead, out of a reason unknown to him, he did nothing.

    “According to my investigation, this is the place where their phone signals was last detected.” Michael swallowed hard. On rare occasion when he got close to Stercomaster’s left foot, his mind blew a fuse. The feet odor was so intoxicating it gave his a boner through his jeans.

    Both cops could smell Stercomaster’s shitty body odor across the desk. Thet took a huge inhale of the man’s feet stink. Normally, the neat cops would push the nasty feet away vehemently and recoil in disgust. But now, something seemed different.

    “But that doesn’t prove anything, did it?” Stercomaster edged his feet closer to the two officers respectively.

    ” After that, they went completely missing, no signs of witnessing, nothing.” Blake said underneath his breath, the strong stink permeating the air really starting to eat away at his patience. The unmistakable aroma of feet perspiration enveloped the two cops and washed into their noses and twisted their mind. The stink filled the space before their noses and invaded their lungs.

    “Maybe they started with a new life. Officers, you know how some men are just not satisfied with their own previous life. Many of them have unknown desires that long to be drawn out. I’m sure you also have their desires in you.” Stercomaster said and shook his feet under the officers’ noses.

    Neither cops answered immediately. Their eyesight taken by Stercomaster’s sweaty feet. The white socks were moist with modelled well to Stercomaster’s feet. The brown-wore sole of the showed clear imprints of his toes. They didn’t understand why they are studying a man’s feet.

    Swallowing hard, Michael replied: ” No, Sir, you’re deviating…” He couldn’t notice what himself was talking, as the thought nagged in his mind:” Just take a whiff, a quick sniff, it will be easing. ” His crotch was heating in perverse adoration for the stink. The cop was feeling enthralled. Strong stink was wafting over him.

    The guard Gianluca, who stood always behind, passed both cops a cup of liquid, but as neither drank it, even though they felt quite thirsty. Michael looked at Blake, who had been silent for a while, and saw his nose just two inch away from Stercomaster’s right foot.

    Michael’s dick flicked up in his pants. He tried to pull away and remained where he was. But just then, Stercomaster adjusted his feet positions and edged left foot closer to Michael’s nose. Michael’s nose made contact with the a toe, and he couldn’t help but inhaling the foot funk. The cop sighed on the heavenly smell. He couldn’t peel his nose away. The cop noticed his own hard-on and the dampness in his underpants.

    Michael knew he must shield a mental blockage of his conscious mind against longing for the stinking foot. He had finally managed to hang to his rationality and stood up. His movement also broke Blake’s trance., who also managed to stand up with his eyes a little glassy. Knowing they shouldn’t stay here for long, Michael and Blake quickly left and said they would drop by the next day.

    Both cops left in a quick manner but were largely silent on the way back to the hotel. They didn’t talk about the stink, both recovering from the smell that were rooted in their minds. They were frustrated and battled in their mind. “Smelling a man’s feet? It’s repulsive to any sane person! It made no fucking sense!” Both cops also felt a kind of deeper longing, not only for feet stench, but for something more.

    Back in hotel, the cops felt their lust calmed down. They discussed about the cases a while. Then Michael went to the shower. He took off his clothes, exposing his huge muscles and went to the shower.

    Blake was still pondering on the case as a familiar smell hit his nose. His dick immediately sprung to its hardness. He looked up and saw Michael’s shoes next to his bed. The smell of Michael’s freshly worn shoes filled his nose quickly.

    Knowing it’s wrong, Blake suddenly got this thought and courage to sniff Michael’s shoes.

    Blake picked up Michael’s shoes that gave out sharp briny stink of feet. The cop was feeling hot, slowly putting the damp aperture to his nose.

    “This isn’t me.” Regretful, he snatched up Michale’s shoe and pressed it over his nose and mouth. The sound of shower was assuring for his activity as the cop took his first long drag inside Michael’s shoe.

    ” Fuck…” Blake almost moaned out when the stink filled his nose. His nose skimmed every part of the shoes that emanated the heavy stink. Blake could feel his saliva soaking its way slowly into the sole of the Michael’s shoes, and then the stink of feet seeping back onto his tongue and down his throat. The strong feet odor was blotting out the cop’s unrealistic attempt to resist his new compulsion to inhale more stink.

    Blake was dazed and confused, unable to process what was happening to him. He knew he hey had been corrupted, but he couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge. Then he thrust the other shoe on his pulsing dick and began to rub his dick on the damp interior.

    Unbeknownst to Blake, the Deputy Michael was wanking his dick in the shower in the same raging way. His nose could also not forget the hot stink emanating from Stercomaster’s nose. He was wanking his dick harder and harder. But before he cummed, the deputy forced himself out of the trance. He stood there under shower, panting, all sweaty. ” No, he couldn’t cum to such disgusting fantasy!”

    With his lust unsatisfied, deputy Michael walked out the shower, pushed his shoes aside with his feet and sat onto the bed, failing to notice the strange milky liquid in one of his shoes as Blake went to the shower with an expression of guiltiness.

    The next day, both cops went back to the restaurant. This time, both have shielded their mental barriers up. Both categorized their weird lust as a simple accident in a corner of their mind.

    But the moment they went in the restaurant, their noses caught the first trail of the sharp stink and almost instinctively, both cops took a deep breath and felt extremely relaxed as if this is the right place and only right thing to do to release their pressure.

    Now Deputy Michael handed Stercomaster the call logs of the missing banker. ” Sir, all I need is cooperation. ” Michael said, ” These logs manifest connections between this place and those missing case.”

    ” How fortunate. Cooperation happens to be my favorite things.” Stercomaster leaned over across the desk to take the file. As he spoke, a noxious cloud erupted from his mouth — a stench so vile, so utterly putrid, that it seemed to warp the very air around the two cops’ noses.

    Blake felt extremely thirty, and grabbed the cup to quench his thirst. The liquid tastes rancid and salty, yet delicious. Michael wanted to warn Blake not to drink anything here. He saw Blake paused and frowned at the taste but then poured the whole cup into his mouth. Guided by thirst and curiosity, Michael also lifted the cup and tipped the liquid into his mouth. The taste overwhelmed the deputy’s tastebud, it’s a kind of flavor that he never had before. Instead of easing their craving, both cops felt a stronger thirsty that there’s no way to quench rising inside of them.

    Stercomaster was reading the call logs, leaning back on the chair and putting his sweaty stinking feet on the table, right in front of each cop.

    Both cops noticed this time, a pair of socks wore by the muscular sinister man was even more dirty and the smell seemed to intensify. They wanted to shift their eyes away, but they couldn’t. Both looked at the feet as if the whole world around melted away. Neither made any move as their rational mind still preceded and both knew it would be too obviously if they tried to sniff the feet. Then they heard Stercomaster’s voice.

    ” Officers, to show my cooperation, I have also something to offer to you for detailed study.” Stercomaster puckered his lips toward them, indicating them to look down. His feet were right on a stack of papers. A smirk twisted his lips as he wiggled his toes—a mockery of invitation.

    This seemed like a perfect excuse for the officers to bend their heads down. Blake made a gentle attempt to pull the paper out – he didn’t intend to actually pull them out and were happy to find out Stercomaster’s foot weighed heavily on the papers. He bowed his head down, pretending to read the contract but actually studying the stinking foot. It’s big, with a nice arch and very wet with sweat.

    Michael saw Blake’s movement. He wanted to stop him, but somehow, he decided to take a deep sniff before saying anything. The Deputy reasoned himself to take a quick sniff, and the hunger will be eased. But he overestimated his self-control. The foot funk was overly seductive. The tip of his nose made contact with Stercomaster’s toes and the cop started inhaling. He sighed, the smell was mind easing for him. He felt his craving for the stench reclining a little, but next moment, the lust came back tripled. Almost unconsciously, the Deputy took a second deep breath, so deep as if he was trying to vacuum up the smell. The rational part in the cop’s mind was alerting him, telling him to stop, but his dick was burning hard in lust.

    Recognizing the whole situation, Michael wanted to say something to Blake, but just as he opened his mouth, Stercomaster spread his foot further and inserted his toes into Michael’s mouth. At first, the officer tasted nothing, but then, the flavor that was ten times stronger than the feet odor filled his mouth. Losing control, the deputy closed his mouth and sucked on Stercomaster’s foot. The socks had been worn for who knows how long, the taste was like heaven.

    The other officer Blake now yanked the socks off Stercomaster’s feet then sucked with abandon. His tongue poked through his lips and licked the sweaty skin… He had lost himself in his euphoric high. The cop knew this is utterly wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. He looked at the Deputy, who still sucked Stercomaster’s feet through the stinking socks. The whole scene just made him even more horny.

    Blake’s greedy tongue circled each stinking toe, on which there were tufts of dark hairs. His tongue lapped around each toe and as his mouth sucked as if this is the most delicious thing he ever put his mouth on.

    Meanwhile, Deputy Michael also took off the sock. His tongue lunged quickly at Stercomaster’s dirty sweaty sole of foot and worshipped like the most pious believer.

    The whole office was filled with the 2 cops’ loud licking and sucking. They moaned louder as they felt their orgasm building up. The last trace of their reasons told them to stop. They couldn’t cum in such a humiliating situation but they had no strength in pulling their tongues back. All their strength was used on sucking hard the stinking foot in front of their faces. Finally, with loud moaning, ropes of sperm shot out from the cops’ twitching dicks.

    Then the whole world faded around them. As both realized what happened, and jolted out from their stupor and pulled their faces from the feet that were covered in their saliva. They jumped back in shock and disbelief. The whole scene was too shocking, even for a criminal cops like them. It took them several moments to process what happened, as shame, gilt and disgust set in.

    “What’s wrong, officers? I have been quite cooperative when you are licking my feet, right?” Stercomaster laughed.

    Both cops stood there, panting in shame. There’s no words to describe their disgust and shame.

    “What the fuck is in the drink!” Michael shouted face flushed red. He figured there’s something wrong in the drink Stercomaster gave to them. That could be the only rational explanation for their behavior. Both cops glared at the hunky man who always wore an evil smile on his face.

    ” Officers, it’s just the feet sweat from my guards. Some of them tend to sweat more than you could imagine.” Stercomaster said leisurely. He picked up a rubber boot next to him and poured the sweat into his own cup and sipped, ” And of course, their socks worn for weeks without served as the base for you.”

    Both cops looked down, seeing the wet socks at the bottom of the cups.

    “You’re a fucking pervert!” Blake screeched but himself didn’t even realize that his tongue gave his lips a soft lick, and the taste began to regrow on him again.

    ” But it seems like you officers just want some more.” Stercomaster eyed their crotches up. Blake and Michael looked down and saw their wet crotch bulging up obscenely again.

    Stercomaster jumped on the table, turned around and tore off his pants, exposing his ass toward the two cops. “Come on, officer! Look at my big ass, you will love it even more than my feet.”

    Both cops felt their throat going dry, staring at Stercomaster’s giant ass, that swayed gently, emanating a pungent, sour stench that reeked of rotten shit. The odor was thick, almost tangible, wrapping around the cops like a suffocating fog.

    Stercomaster’s voice a low, seductive whisper: “Come, officers, take a sniff. Taste what you’ve never experienced before. You want it, don’t you?” His ass emanated a the stink that clawed at the senses, both repulsive and strangely alluring, mingled with the acrid tang.

    Both Michael and Blake furrowed their brows, resisting the temptation. But they still stared at Stercomaster’s huge ass. The huge ass was muscular yet looked soft. A thought emerged in the cops mind – they wondered how good it would feel, to rub their faces on the big asscheeks while sniffing and licking. Realizing their growing lust, both Michael and Blake knew they must get out right away.

    But then, they heard a loud fart from the ass. And the stench hit their noses immediately. It’s the worst stink they smelt so far, far more stinking than Stercomaster’s feet. For a moment, they froze. The fart odor was a vile, oppressive wave of raw sewage and decaying feces. They felt the fart smell clung to the back of their throats, a rancid, gut-churning stench that made their stomachs twist in hunger. With the overwhelming foulness, there was something inexplicably alluring, a dark, primal pull that beckoned them closer.

    Blake took a step closer, and Stercomaster’s ass wobbled with a grotesque rhythm, its stench growing denser with every movement.

    Michael’s face contorted in disgust, his nostrils flaring as he tried to resist the temptation. He turned to Blake, his voice uneasy, strained but urgent: “We need to get out of here. This isn’t right!!”

    But Blake’s eyes were glazed, his body swaying as if hypnotized. His mouth watered with the revolting stench, a deep, irrational craving taking hold of him. His steps dragging him toward the foul-smelling ass as if pulled by an invisible force.

    Just as Michael was to say something more, then came the second fart from Stercomaster, even louder and more vile than the first. ” Come, officers, sniff my fart, sniff my ass. This is what you both want, isn’t it?”

    Michael staggered back, his face pale, but Stercomaster’s voice, low and seductive, slithered into his mind: “Just one taste. You know you want to.” The smell, though revolting, seemed to wrap around him, pulling him back in. Michael’s body trembling as the noxious stench was inhaled deeply by him. He knew he must fight against his inner lust.

    The air grew heavy with the stench of overflowing latrines and decomposing waste, a suffocating miasma that seemed to seep into their pores. Michael shook out of the trance with all his mental strength and grabbed his partner’s arm, urgency in his tone: “Blake, fucking snap out of it!!”

    Blake, however, seemed deaf to reason. Stercomaster’s ass wobbled enticingly, its stench growing stronger, more intoxicating. Blake’s resolve crumbled. His hands shook, his mouth watered despite the overwhelming foulness, and his body moved as if no longer under his control.

    Blake’s face now inches from Stercomaster’s ass, his breath hitching as the smell of fart filled his lungs. His mouth was drooling. But eventually, before he got his hands on Stercomaster’s asscheeks, the cop held himself, as if holding onto the last straw of resistance.

    But then Stercomaster released the third fart. The stench that followed was unbearable. It’s a thick, choking cloud of raw excrement and putrid waste that made both men hungry. Blake could see clearly Stercomaster’s thick asslips opened as the minute-long fart continued its way out, blasting warmly on his face.

    With a final, shuddering gasp, Blake gave in. He leaned forward, his face inching closer to Stercomaster’s repulsive ass. The smell was unbearable, a putrid wave of decay and filth. The officer couldn’t stop himself. His nose brushed against the asscrack, and then, with a desperate and almost animalistic hunger, he buried his face into Stercomaster’s asscrack, the source of the vile stench.

    The moment his face made contact, the smell intensified, a rancid, choking miasma that seemed to seep into his very soul. Blake’s body convulsed in delirium. He inhaled deeply, his mind clouded by the pure stink. Stercomaster’s laughter echoed in his ears, low and mocking, as Blake succumbed completely, lost in the foul stink.

    Seeing his partner lost to the temptation, a chill ran down Michael’s spine. He wanted to drag Blake away as he saw Blake darted his tongue into Stercomaster’s filthy asscrack.

    ” Ahhh, fuck, I always want a cop to clean my stinking shit crack!!” Stercomaster said and rubbed his ass on Blake’s face. He turned his head and looked at Deputy Michael, ” Come Michael, join Blake, you want to, right? You also want to lick my hot ass!”

    Just then, the Deputy realized he’s already drooling copiously. Dripping saliva flew down his chin onto his lewdly wet bulging. The smell was unbearable, a crushing wave of filth that threatened to drown him. Michael almost leaned towards Stercomaster’s ass but he stopped himself in time. Knowing he couldn’t stay any longer and had to leave immediately, the Deputy turned and ran, leaving his partner behind as he heard the sound of a long wet squishy fart followed by Blake’s guttural climaxing growls echoing through the hall…

  • The Job Interview

    Ethan froze mid-stroke, his hand jerking away as if scalded. “No!” The refusal ripped out, raw and desperate. His hazel eyes snapped to the screen, wide with genuine panic. “Mr. Thorne, please… this is too far. I can’t—” His voice cracked, the flush on his tanned skin deepening to crimson. He instinctively angled his hips away, his powerful shoulders tensing defensively. “This isn’t… I won’t.”

    Thorne’s expression hardened instantly, the predatory satisfaction replaced by cold, implacable steel. He leaned forward, his sharp features filling Ethan’s screen. “You will,” he hissed, the veneer of civility utterly stripped away. “Or this ends. Right now. Your resume goes in the trash. Every application you’ve sent for the past six months? I’ll ensure they know exactly why you were rejected.” He paused, letting the threat sink in, his grey eyes boring into Ethan’s soul. “The choice is yours, Ethan. Finish the demonstration… or spend the next year explaining gaps in your employment history.” He leaned back slightly, steepling his fingers again, a silent, immovable wall of coercion.

    Ethan’s breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. The desperate need for the job – the rent, the loans, the crushing weight of failure – crashed against the visceral horror of exposure. His hand hovered, trembling violently, over the straining black fabric. He squeezed his eyes shut for a fraction of a second, a tremor running through his powerful frame. Then, with a choked sound of utter defeat, he hooked trembling fingers into the opening of his fly. Thorne’s breath hitched audibly, a low, eager sound. The fabric gaped open slightly, revealing a strip of flushed skin and dark, coarse curls beneath. Finally, Ethan pulled the fabric completely aside. His cock sprang free, thick and achingly hard, straining upwards against his abdomen. It was long and substantial, flushed a deep, angry red from base to tip, the thick vein running along its underside pulsing visibly with each frantic heartbeat. The broad, mushroom-shaped head glistened obscenely under the harsh laptop light, slick with a thick bead of precum that pearled at the slit and clung, trembling, before threatening to drip onto the taut skin of his lower belly. It stood rigidly proud from the nest of dark curls, a stark, undeniable testament to the betrayal of his own body. Thorne released a low, appreciative groan, his grey eyes devouring the sight with naked hunger.

    Ethan stood frozen, exposed beyond comprehension. His sculpted torso gleamed with sweat, every defined muscle locked rigid with tension. Below, the thick shaft pulsed visibly, the glistening tip drawing Thorne’s rapt, unwavering gaze. The humiliation was a physical weight, crushing his chest, making the air feel thick and suffocating. He couldn’t look at the screen. He couldn’t look down. His hazel eyes stared blankly at the wall beyond his laptop, seeing nothing but the sheer, degrading reality of what he had just done.

    Thorne leaned forward until his sharp features dominated the screen, his ash-blond hair catching the light. His cool grey eyes were wide, pupils dilated, fixed intently on the rigid flesh Ethan had exposed. His breath hitched audibly, a sharp intake followed by a low, ragged exhale. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, the words barely more than a whisper crackling through the speakers. His gaze traveled the impressive length, lingering on the flushed, swollen head slick with precum. “How… how long is that?” His voice was thick, husky with disbelief and raw hunger.

    Ethan flinched, the question slicing through the numb horror. His throat tightened. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered, the words thick and clumsy. His voice cracked.

    “Bullshit,” Thorne snapped instantly, leaning back slightly, his grey eyes narrowing with sudden suspicion and command. The predatory intensity sharpened. “You know. Every man knows. Tell me. Now.” His tone brooked no evasion, the professional mask completely dissolved into naked coercion.

    The desperate need for the job warred violently with the utter degradation. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut for a fraction of a second, his powerful shoulders slumping infinitesimally. He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the silent room. His voice, when it came, was a raw, defeated whisper, thick with shame. “Eight… eight and a half inches.” The admission hung in the air, obscene and final. He kept his gaze averted, unable to bear Thorne’s reaction to the truth laid bare.

    A sharp, triumphant bark of laughter exploded through the speakers, startlingly loud. Thorne threw his head back, ash-blond hair catching the light, his sharp features contorted in pure, unadulterated elation. “Eight and a half!” he crowed, slapping a hand down on his polished desk. The sound echoed harshly in Ethan’s silent apartment. “God damn, Drummond! That’s… that’s exceptional.” His grey eyes snapped back to the screen, blazing with predatory hunger, utterly captivated by the thick, flushed shaft straining upwards against Ethan’s abdomen. “But don’t be stingy. Show me everything. Pull those balls out through the fly too. Let’s see the whole impressive package.” His voice was thick with command and anticipation.

    Ethan flinched as if struck. His trembling hand, slick with nervous sweat, returned to the gaping fly. With clumsy, jerky movements, he hooked trembling fingers deeper into the opening in the tight black briefs. He tugged downwards and sideways, pulling the fabric wider. Finally, the heavy, low-hanging sac emerged, thick-skinned and taut, pulled tight by the rigid shaft above. His testicles were substantial, full and pendulous, hanging heavy beneath the base of his cock, the skin flushed a deep pink and drawn smooth by the tension. They swung slightly with the movement. Ethan’s eyes focused on the straining erection. The thick shaft pulsed visibly, the broad, slick head glistening obscenely under the harsh laptop light, a thick bead of precum trembling at the slit. Below, the heavy balls hung low and full, completing the brutally exposed tableau against the backdrop of Ethan’s sweat-slicked, sculpted abdomen and powerful thighs.

    Thorne leaned impossibly closer to his camera, his face dominating the screen, his cool grey eyes wide and utterly fixated. A low, appreciative groan escaped him. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word thick with reverence and lust. “Look at that… magnificent.” Ethan stood rigidly exposed, every defined muscle in his torso locked tight, trembling faintly. Sweat traced paths down the ridges of his abdomen, dripping onto the hardwood floor. His powerful thighs, thickly corded with muscle beneath the briefs, quivered with the strain of maintaining his stance and the sheer, overwhelming humiliation. He stared blankly past the laptop, his clean-shaven jaw clenched so tight it ached, his hazel eyes burning with unshed tears of utter violation. The dark curls spilled over the stretched waistband, the thick cock jutting obscenely, the heavy balls hanging vulnerably – a complete, degrading display commanded by the man on the screen. Thorne’s rapt gaze devoured every inch.

    “Stroke it,” Thorne commanded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that crackled with intensity through the speakers. His grey eyes burned with hunger. “Slowly. Use your whole hand. Show me how it feels.” Ethan flinched, a tremor shaking his powerful frame. His gaze remained fixed on the wall, refusing to meet Thorne’s eyes. Slowly, mechanically, his trembling hand moved. His fingers, slick with sweat, wrapped around the thick base. The skin was hot, impossibly hard beneath his palm. He squeezed involuntarily, a choked gasp escaping his lips as sensation ripped through him. He began to move his hand upwards in a slow, deliberate glide, the foreskin pulling taut over the swollen crown. Precum slicked the path, easing the motion. Thorne’s breath hitched audibly. “Yes,” he hissed, leaning forward until his forehead almost touched his own screen. “Just like that.”

    Ethan squeezed his eyes shut. The physical sensation was overwhelming, a raw, electric current that drowned out the horror for fleeting moments. His body betrayed him utterly. The slow drag of his calloused palm over the sensitive underside, the way his thumb brushed the slick, swollen head on each upstroke – it sent shockwaves through his nervous system. His powerful chest heaved with ragged breaths. A low groan, deep and involuntary, rumbled in his throat as his hips thrust forward slightly into his own grip, seeking more friction. The shame was a distant echo beneath the roaring tide of biological imperative. Hormones screamed, his body responding with primal intensity to the relentless stimulation, his mind momentarily adrift in the purely physical feedback loop.

    He moaned. The sound was low, guttural, and utterly genuine – a raw expression of pleasure ripped from him despite himself. His hand moved faster now, no longer hesitant but driven by the fierce ache building in his groin. His head tipped back slightly, exposing the strong column of his sweat-slicked throat. His hips rocked rhythmically into his fist, the powerful muscles of his abdomen and thighs flexing with each thrust. The laptop screen, Thorne’s rapt face, the violation – it all blurred into a haze. For a few desperate, agonizing seconds, Ethan Drummond was lost in the sensation, his body hurtling towards release, the job, the shame, the predator on the screen momentarily forgotten in the blinding, animal need.

    “Stop.” Thorne’s command sliced through the heavy air, sharp as broken glass. It wasn’t loud, but it carried the chilling weight of absolute authority. Ethan froze mid-stroke, his hand tightening convulsively around his slick shaft. The abrupt cessation was a physical shock. Reality crashed back in like icy water. He gasped, his eyes flying open, wide and disoriented, locking instantly onto Thorne’s face dominating the screen. The interviewer’s expression was no longer rapturous hunger; it was cold calculation, a predator assessing captured prey. Grey eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing. The flush of arousal on Ethan’s sculpted chest deepened into a crimson wave of pure, suffocating humiliation. He stood exposed, trembling, his cock still achingly hard and glistening in his fist, the heavy sac drawn tight beneath it.

    “Enough,” Thorne stated, his voice flat, devoid of the earlier husky intensity. He leaned back slightly, steepling his fingers again, a picture of regained control. His gaze traveled deliberately down Ethan’s sweat-streaked torso, lingering on the straining black briefs framing the obscene display. “Those,” he flicked a dismissive finger towards the screen, “are redundant now. Remove them. Completely.” The command was chillingly casual, delivered with the finality of a judge passing sentence. “I want nothing obstructing the view.”

    Ethan’s breath hitched. His hand fell away from his erection as if burned. He stared at Thorne, a silent plea trapped in his burning hazel eyes. Thorne merely raised an eyebrow, a silent, immovable reminder of the power he held. Despair, cold and absolute, washed over Ethan. With trembling fingers slick with sweat and precum, he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of the black briefs. He pushed down, the fabric catching momentarily on the thick swell of his hips before sliding over the powerful curve of his ass. They pooled around his ankles, a dark puddle on the pale hardwood floor. He stepped out of them, kicking them aside with a bare foot. He stood utterly naked now: six feet of sculpted muscle gleaming under the harsh laptop light, sweat tracing paths down his defined chest and abdomen, his thick cock jutting proudly, flushed and slick, the heavy testicles hanging vulnerably beneath. The air felt frigid against his exposed skin. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to lift his eyes to the screen and the man who owned this moment of utter degradation. Thorne’s satisfied silence was louder than any words.

    “Turn around,” Thorne commanded, his voice low and thick with anticipation. Ethan flinched but obeyed, pivoting slowly on bare feet. The powerful muscles of his back shifted beneath taut skin – the broad sweep of his latissimus dorsi framing his spine, the deep groove running down to his narrow waist, the defined ridges of his erector spinae muscles flanking his spine like twin columns. Below, his ass was a masterpiece of disciplined training: two firm, high globes of muscle, perfectly rounded and separated by a deep, shadowed cleft. The skin there was smooth, unblemished, and slightly paler than his tanned back. Thorne inhaled sharply. “Christ,” he breathed, the word laden with raw appreciation. “Look at that.” His grey eyes devoured the sculpted curves, the way the powerful glutes tightened subtly as Ethan shifted his weight. “Magnificent musculature, Ethan. Truly.” The praise was a violation in itself.

    “Now,” Thorne continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper charged with command. “Bend over. Spread those cheeks wide. Show me everything.” Ethan froze. A choked sound escaped him. The humiliation intensified, a crushing weight centered low in his belly. Slowly, trembling violently, he bent forward at the waist. His powerful back arched, the defined muscles stretching taut. He reached back with shaking hands, fingers sinking into the firm flesh of his own ass cheeks. With a shuddering breath that felt like tearing flesh, he pulled them apart. The chilly air of the apartment rushed against his exposed anus, a shocking, intimate sensation that made him gasp sharply. His hole, a tight pink pucker nestled within a dusting of dark hair, clenched involuntarily against the sudden exposure. The vulnerability was absolute, laid bare for Thorne’s hungry gaze.

    Thorne released a low, ragged groan of pure lust. “Yes,” he hissed, leaning forward until his face filled Ethan’s screen. His grey eyes were wide, pupils blown black, utterly fixated on the exposed vulnerability. “Perfect.” Ethan trembled, bent over, hands gripping his own flesh, feeling the icy air kiss his most private opening. Thorne’s rapt silence was suffocating, punctuated only by the harsh rasp of Ethan’s own panicked breathing and the faint hum of the laptop fan. The chill intensified the sensation, making his hole twitch involuntarily again, a tiny, humiliating pulse under Thorne’s relentless scrutiny. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the next command, knowing it would come, knowing he would obey. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the floor between his spread feet.

    “Finger,” Thorne commanded abruptly, his voice thick and rough. “Put your finger in your mouth. Coat it thoroughly.” Ethan froze mid-tremor. The implication slammed into him like a physical blow. His eyes snapped open, staring blindly at the hardwood grain beneath him. A choked sound escaped his throat. He couldn’t. He physically couldn’t move his hands from where they held his cheeks apart. Thorne growled, “Now, Ethan. Or this ends poorly for you.” Desperation warred with utter revulsion. Slowly, shaking violently, Ethan released his right cheek. He brought his trembling hand up towards his face, fingers slick with sweat. He hesitated, staring at his own fingers inches from his lips. Thorne’s impatient silence crackled through the speakers. With a shuddering gasp, Ethan shoved his index finger deep into his mouth, tasting salt and panic.

    He sucked hard, coating the finger thickly in saliva, the act itself feeling grotesquely intimate under Thorne’s gaze. He pulled it out, glistening wetly. Thorne’s breath hitched audibly. “Good,” he purred, a dark satisfaction in his tone. “Now… use it. Finger yourself. Slowly. Deep.” Ethan’s stomach lurched. He stared at his own wet finger, hovering near the exposed cleft. The humiliation was absolute. He’d stripped, bent over, spread himself… but this? This felt like the final, irrevocable violation. He hesitated, his powerful frame locked rigid with horror. Thorne’s voice snapped like a whip. “Do it, Ethan! Show me how accommodating you can be!” A ragged sob tore from Ethan’s throat. He squeezed his eyes shut again, blocking out the screen, the room, everything but the crushing weight of necessity. His trembling finger pressed against his tight opening. The cold, wet touch against the sensitive ring of muscle made him gasp sharply. He pushed inward, a burning stretch against resistance.

    The intrusion was shocking, alien. Ethan whimpered, his finger sinking slowly past the tight sphincter, coated in his own spit. The sensation was intensely intimate, violating, amplified a thousandfold by Thorne’s rapt, unseen gaze. He pushed deeper, feeling the slick slide inside himself, the involuntary clench of his muscles around the invading digit. Thorne released a low, appreciative groan. “Deeper,” he commanded hoarsely. Ethan obeyed, burying his finger to the knuckle inside his own body, a shudder wracking his frame. He remained bent, trembling, finger buried deep, utterly exposed and degraded, the laptop camera capturing every detail for Eric Thorne’s hungry, triumphant eyes. The silence stretched, thick with the violation and the soft, wet sound of Ethan’s own ragged breathing.

    Thorne leaned forward, his grey eyes blazing with predatory intensity. “Another,” he demanded, his voice rough and thick with undisguised lust. “Add another finger. Now.” The command sliced through Ethan’s haze of humiliation. A choked gasp escaped him. He hesitated, his hand trembling violently near his exposed opening, his index finger still buried deep inside himself. The thought of stretching himself wider, deliberately, under Thorne’s command, was a fresh wave of horror. Thorne’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do it!” he snapped, the threat implicit. “Or the job offer vanishes.” Despair choked Ethan. With a ragged sob, he pulled his slick finger out slowly, the sensation making him gasp again. He shoved his middle finger into his mouth, coating it thickly with saliva, tasting salt and panic.

    Trembling uncontrollably, Ethan positioned his two glistening fingers against his tight, pink opening. He pressed inward, the resistance immediate and fierce. He whimpered, pushing harder, feeling the burning stretch intensify as the second finger forced its way alongside the first. The sensation was sharp, overwhelming – a deep, internal violation he could feel radiating through his pelvis. He pushed deeper, knuckles straining against the resistant ring of muscle, burying both fingers inside himself. A low moan tore from his throat, a mixture of pain, unwanted sensation, and utter degradation. He stayed bent, legs shaking, fingers thrust deep into his own body, presenting himself completely for Thorne’s appraisal. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the floor between his spread feet.

    Thorne watched, utterly absorbed. His breath came in short, sharp pants. “Move them,” he ordered, his voice thick. “Slowly. In and out.” Ethan obeyed, mechanically, dragging his slick fingers slowly out until just the tips remained, then pushing them back in deep. The wet slide echoed obscenely in the silent room. Each withdrawal and penetration was a fresh humiliation, a performance forced upon him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to detach, but the physical sensations were relentless: the stretch, the friction, the cold air hitting his exposed hole each time he withdrew. Thorne groaned again, a sound of pure, predatory satisfaction. “Yes,” he hissed. “Just like that. Show me how much of a team player you really are.” Ethan continued the agonizing rhythm, fingers pistoning slowly in and out of himself, trapped in a nightmare commanded by the man on the screen.

    “Enough,” Thorne commanded abruptly, breaking the rhythm. Ethan froze instantly, fingers buried deep. “Turn around,” Thorne ordered, his voice regaining a chilling calm. “Face me.” Relief warred with dread. Ethan pulled his fingers out slowly, a shudder wracking his frame at the sudden emptiness. He straightened slowly, the powerful muscles in his back protesting the awkward posture. He pivoted on bare feet, turning his naked body back towards the laptop camera. To his surprise, his cock was harder than ever, pulsing wildly and straining toward the ceiling. His thick cock, slick with precum, jutted obscenely against his abdomen. Thorne’s grey eyes swept over him with undisguised ownership. “Sit back down,” Thorne instructed coolly. “In your chair.”

    Ethan moved stiffly, like a puppet on frayed strings. He lowered himself onto the leather desk chair, the cool surface a shock against his heated skin. He sat rigidly upright, his powerful thighs pressed together, instinctively trying to shield himself despite the utter exposure. Thorne’s sharp gaze missed nothing. “No,” he stated flatly. “Legs up. On the desk.” Ethan froze, staring at the screen, disbelief warring with the crushing inevitability. Thorne leaned forward, his face filling the frame. “Do it, Ethan. Show me everything. Your dedication hinges on it.” Despair settled like lead in Ethan’s gut. With trembling hands slick with sweat and spit, he gripped the powerful muscles of his thighs. Slowly, shaking violently, he lifted his legs, bending at the knees. He brought his bare feet up onto the polished surface of his desk, planting his heels firmly on the wood. He spread his knees wide apart, forcing his powerful thighs open.

    The position was brutally exposing. Ethan leaned back slightly in the chair, his legs spread wide on the desk, knees bent upwards. His thick, flushed cock lay rigid against his lower abdomen, the broad head glistening obscenely. Below, his heavy balls hung vulnerable against the cool leather seat. And between his spread thighs, framed by the powerful muscles of his inner thighs, his pink, slightly gaping hole was fully visible to the camera – still slick and glistening faintly from his own saliva. He stared blankly past the laptop, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, every defined muscle in his torso locked tight with tension and shame. The vulnerability was absolute, laid bare for Thorne’s hungry, triumphant gaze. Thorne inhaled sharply, a low, appreciative hum vibrating through the speakers. “Perfect,” he breathed, his grey eyes fixed unblinkingly on the exposed intimacy.

    Thorne leaned impossibly closer to his camera, his sharp features dominating Ethan’s screen. His grey eyes burned with intensity. “Use your fingers again,” he commanded, his voice thick and rough with undisguised lust. “Both of them. Coat them thoroughly in your mouth first.” Ethan flinched, a tremor shaking his frame. He hesitated, his gaze still averted. Thorne’s voice snapped like a whip. “Now, Ethan!” Desperation choked him. Slowly, trembling violently, Ethan raised his right hand towards his face. He shoved his index and middle fingers deep into his mouth, sucking hard, coating them thickly in saliva. The taste of salt filled his mouth. He pulled them out, glistening wetly. Thorne’s breath hitched audibly. “Good,” he purred, a dark satisfaction saturating his tone. “Now… put them back in. Deep. And fuck yourself with them.”

    Ethan squeezed his eyes shut. His slick fingers hovered near his exposed opening. He pressed inward, feeling the tight resistance yield as the wet tips breached the sensitive ring of muscle. A choked gasp escaped him as he pushed deeper, burying both fingers knuckle-deep inside himself again. The stretch burned, the intrusion violating. Thorne groaned, a sound of pure, satisfaction. “Yes… deeper,” he hissed. “Now… move them. In and out. Harder.” Ethan obeyed mechanically, his fingers pistoning slowly at first, then faster, driven by Thorne’s command. The wet, rhythmic sound of his fingers plunging in and out of his own body filled the silent room, amplified by the laptop speakers. Each withdrawal pulled his slick hole open wider; each penetration drove a shudder through his powerful frame. Sweat dripped from his jaw onto his heaving chest.

    “Now touch yourself,” Thorne commanded abruptly, his voice thick and urgent. “Stroke that magnificent cock while you fuck yourself. Show me how much you want this job.” Ethan froze mid-thrust, fingers buried deep. A choked sob tore from his throat. He couldn’t look. He couldn’t think. Slowly, trembling violently, his left hand moved. His fingers, slick with sweat, wrapped around the thick, rigid base of his cock. The heat, the impossible hardness beneath his palm, sent a jolt of unwelcome sensation through him. He squeezed involuntarily, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. He began to stroke upwards in a slow, deliberate glide, his foreskin pulling taut over the swollen, slick head. Precum eased the motion. Simultaneously, his right hand kept plunging his fingers deep inside himself, the dual sensations – violation and stimulation – warring violently within him. Thorne’s rapturous groan echoed through the speakers. “Yes! Just like that! Faster!”

    His body betrayed him utterly. The slow drag of his calloused palm over his sensitive shaft, the rhythmic clench and release around his invading fingers – it created a raw, electric feedback loop he couldn’t control. His hips bucked forward slightly into his fist, seeking more friction. A deep, involuntary moan ripped from his throat as pleasure surged, fierce and undeniable, beneath the crushing weight of degradation. His hand moved faster on his cock, pumping roughly. His fingers pistoned harder, deeper inside himself, the wet, obscene sounds filling the air. His powerful thighs trembled violently against the desk surface. His head tipped back, exposing the sweat-slicked column of his throat, eyes squeezed shut against the horror, lost in the primal, unstoppable tide rising within him. Thorne watched, utterly rapt, his grey eyes devouring every twitch, every gasp, every bead of sweat tracing the defined planes of Ethan’s shuddering body as he obeyed the final, degrading command.

    Then, Ethan’s knuckles pressed deep, grinding against something intensely sensitive inside him. A sharp, blinding jolt of pure pleasure exploded through his pelvis, radiating outwards like liquid fire. His eyes flew wide, a choked cry of pure ecstasy escaping him. Thorne vanished. The screen, the job, the threat – it all dissolved into white noise. There was only the desperate, driving need for more. His fingers curled, seeking that spot again, pressing hard. Another wave crashed over him, stronger this time, making his cock throb violently in his fist. He cried out, raw and unrestrained, his hips jerking wildly. He fucked himself onto his fingers with abandon, driving them deep, grinding relentlessly against the swollen bundle of nerves. His other hand became a blur on his shaft, stroking furiously, twisting roughly over the slick, swollen head. The world narrowed to the frantic rhythm of his hands, the blinding bursts of pleasure deep inside, the thick heat building unbearably in his groin. Sweat poured down his heaving chest and trembling abdomen.

    He hit it again, harder. A guttural roar tore from him. His powerful body arched violently in the chair, muscles locking rigid. His balls drew impossibly tight against his body. The thick shaft in his hand pulsed like a live wire, impossibly hard. He was a piston – fingers plunging deep, palm sliding rough and fast over slick skin – consumed by a frantic, animalistic drive for release. The rhythmic slap of his hand and the wet squelch of his fingers inside himself were the only sounds he registered. He panted, ragged breaths tearing from his lungs, face contorted in agonized ecstasy. He was lost, utterly consumed by the physical sensation, chasing the blinding peak with desperate, brutal strokes.

    His body was a sculpture of taut desperation. Every defined muscle in his torso stood out in sharp relief, locked rigid by the force of his arch. Sweat poured down the carved ridges of his abdomen, tracing paths through the dusting of dark hair below his navel, dripping onto the strained leather seat beneath him. His thick, powerful thighs trembled violently against the polished desk surface where his bare feet were planted wide. His massive cock, slick and flushed deep crimson, strained rigidly upwards against his abdomen. The broad, mushroom-shaped head glistened obscenely under the harsh laptop light, coated in thick precum that smeared down the shaft with each furious stroke of his fist. Below, his heavy balls, pulled tight and high against his body, pulsed visibly with the frantic rhythm of his impending climax.

    He was suspended on the knife-edge. His knuckles ground deep inside him, pressing relentlessly against that swollen nerve cluster. His fist became a blur on his shaft, twisting brutally over the slick head on each upstroke. His hips bucked wildly, driving himself deeper onto his fingers, seeking more friction, more pressure. A high, keening whine escaped his clenched teeth. His vision blurred, tunneling. Every muscle fiber screamed with tension. The heat in his groin was unbearable, a supernova building pressure, threatening to erupt. He was seconds away, body coiled like a spring, utterly beyond thought, beyond shame, beyond anything but the raw, blinding need to come.

    His knuckles slammed home. A guttural roar ripped from his throat, raw and primal. His powerful body arched violently off the chair, every defined muscle locking rigid – abdomen, chest, thighs, shoulders – a sculpture of taut agony and ecstasy. His balls drew impossibly tight against his body. The thick shaft in his fist pulsed like a hammer blow, impossibly hard. The first jet exploded violently – a thick, pearly-white rope that shot upwards with shocking force. It arced high, splattering hot and wet across his own sweat-slicked jawline and chin, clinging thickly. Before he could gasp, the second blast erupted, thicker, hotter, painting a thick streak across his heaving chest, catching the ridge of his left pec and dripping obscenely down the defined plane towards his nipple. His fingers plunged deeper inside himself, spasming uncontrollably as wave after wave tore through him.

    The third eruption was a torrent. Thick, viscous streams erupted in rapid succession, pulsing violently from the swollen slit. Ropes lashed his abdomen, painting thick, white stripes across the ridges of his abs, pooling in the shallow valley of his navel. Another thick blast hit his collarbone, splattering upwards onto his throat. His head snapped back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream as his body convulsed. Cum sprayed wildly – hitting his inner thighs, his trembling hand still pumping his shaft, the desk surface near his spread feet. His hole clenched violently around his buried fingers, spasming in time with each explosive pulse, milking the sensation deeper. The sheer volume was shocking; thick ropes painting his torso in obscene streaks, dripping down the trembling muscles of his abdomen, pooling in the crease of his groin where his cock still jerked violently in his fist.

    Finally, the brutal convulsions subsided. His body slumped back into the chair, boneless, trembling violently. His chest heaved with ragged, gasping breaths. Thick ropes of pearly cum coated his face – jaw, chin, smeared across his cheekbone, and coating one lense of his glasses. More plastered his chest and abdomen in thick, cooling streaks, dripping slowly onto his thighs and the leather seat. His cock lay spent against his belly, still thick and flushed, glistening obscenely. His fingers remained buried deep inside his clenching hole, slick with his own saliva and the aftermath of his violent climax. The silence was deafening, broken only by his harsh panting and the faint hum of the laptop fan. Across the screen, Eric Thorne watched, utterly still, his grey eyes wide and gleaming with rapt, triumphant satisfaction. A slow smile spread across Thorne’s sharp features. “Impressive,” he breathed, the word thick with undisguised admiration and control. “Truly… exceptional dedication.”

    Ethan shuddered, a wave of nausea crashing over him as the blinding haze of orgasm receded. He pulled his fingers free slowly, a sharp gasp escaping him at the sensation. He stared blankly at his trembling, slick hand, then down at the obscene mess coating his torso. He slowly lowered his trembling legs from the desk, the cool air hitting his exposed groin making him flinch. He slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees, his powerful shoulders hunched. He dragged a trembling hand across his sticky jaw, smearing the cooling mess.

    He forced himself to lift his head, his hazel eyes burning with exhaustion. He met Thorne’s grey gaze on the screen. The interviewer’s expression was calm now, composed, the hunger replaced by a chillingly professional satisfaction. “Mr. Thorne,” Ethan rasped, his voice raw and wrecked. He cleared his throat, the sound thick. “What… what happens now?” The question hung in the air, heavy with desperation.

    Thorne leaned back in his own leather chair, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. A slow, deliberate smile touched his lips. “What happens now, Ethan?” he echoed, his voice smooth, confident, utterly in control. “Now, you get the job.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “The position is yours. Strategic Development Analyst. Starting salary, one-fifty, plus bonuses and full benefits.” Thorne’s grey eyes locked onto Ethan’s, holding him captive. “Effective immediately.” A flicker of pure, unadulterated elation surged through Ethan’s exhaustion, momentarily eclipsing the shame. Relief, sharp and dizzying, washed over him. The job. He had the job. The crushing weight of debt, the fear of failure – lifted. A choked sound, half-sob, half-laugh, escaped him. He stared at Thorne, unable to speak.


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  • The Jade Cock Ring

    When his Uber pulled up to the rundown building with bamboo scaffolding all around it, Ash almost hesitated to go in—almost.

    It was Christmas Day and Ash’s last morning in Hong Kong. He’d spent the entire week with his family and barely had time to jerk off…which was to say he woke up with a raging boner and a full set of nuts—so full, in fact, he thought he could feel his backed up spunk just protesting to bust itself out…

    Don’t get him wrong—Grindr had been practically blowing up ever since Ash landed. He guessed a young, white alpha top stud like him was hot commodity around here…but Ash was sort of in the mood for something else, because all the walking around and trying to make conversation with his parents and sister made him tired, and he just felt like lying back, having some guy oil him up, and worshiping every inch of his college jock body—before being made to shoot a big, fat, satisfying load, of course.

    The guy in question, however, was a full head shorter than Ash as he answered the door, with thick black eyebrows and small eyes.

    “Hi,” the dude smiled cordially at the young foreign buck who hit him up just over an hour ago on Instagram and asked to meet right away.

    “Hi,” Ash greeted him back, averting his gaze, and for a second couldn’t believe he actually turned down a good ol’ fuck with a delicious-looking local muscle twunk to be rubbed down by some Asian uncle, perhaps already in his forties… He had just done a simple search for “man to man massage hk,” and most of the results seemed sketchy and potentially rip-offs, which was when he came across this guy’s Instagram profile, with tasteful pictures of his “studio” and a highlight full of glowing reviews by supposedly satisfied customers.

    As he’d mentioned, Ash was desperate that morning, so he DM’ed…

    “Would you like to take a shower first?” The guy now asked, looking Ash up and down, though thankfully not in a leery way, just probably also wondering why a guy like Ash was doing here.

    Ash had already showered in the hotel before heading out and texting his mom that he’d be going out for a stroll, but it seemed rude to say no at this juncture. He looked around: the “studio” was most likely just this guy’s apartment, and it appeared smaller than it did in photos, with the massage table square in the middle of the living area. The bathroom was worse—Ash could barely turn his massive six-foot-three frame around—so he splashed some water on himself haphazardly and went back out, leaving all his clothes behind with just a towel around his waist.

    “Uh, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be all naked,” Ash said as he reemerged from the tiny bathroom maybe sooner than his masseur had expected.

    Nonetheless, the guy looked all set: even if it were broad daylight out, he had managed to make the room dark enough, with flickering candlelight and the smell of incense wafting through the space. He himself had taken off his top, revealing a lean, mean physique that made Ash think of a kung fu master, or was that racist?

    “Yes, that’s alright,” he smiled that cordial smile at Ash again, and patted the massage table gently: “Just make yourself comfortable.”

    Reassured, Ash loosened the towel around his waist and caught the older guy steal a glance at what had been concealed underneath—the swinging, bigheaded, circumcised thing Ash had for a cock, an impressive sight even though it was still limp.

    “Facedown?” 

    The uncle master nodded.

    It started out wholesomely enough and Ash began to believe the reviews on Instagram—the man had a nice, firm touch, and only as he pressed and kneaded his way all around Ash’s neck, shoulders, spine…did the young tourist realize how tense he’d been and how much he needed to just relax… His thoughts started to drift, hoping at first that his coach was not going to give him too much shit for having put on a few pounds over the holidays, then thinking about the new season ahead. Could he finally break sixty-five meters in the javelin? The World Championships were going to be in September, in Tokyo, which meant he’d be back in Asia, and hopefully then he’d have time to steal away and meet some nice, eager Japanese bottom boy…

    It was then that Ash suddenly felt a finger or two brush past his cock head. It felt accidental, but it kept happening: every time the masseur pushed his oily palms up Ash’s hardened hamstrings, he seemed to make a point to also tickle Ash’s dick on his way back down, and being in the state that Ash was in, he was nursing a raging hard-on in no time, just like how he woke up…

    “Ugh…” Ash let out a small moan at some point—he couldn’t help it. He was really horny as hell.

    Then, it was just as well that the masseur chose this precise moment to instruct his client: “Ok, you can turn over now…”

    Ash swallowed nervously. He didn’t want the guy to see he was so turned-on already, because what if it wasn’t that kind of massage after all?

    But there was no other way around it, so Ash slowly maneuvered his big frame over, and when the masseur replaced the towel over his groin, there was no denying to either of them what was going on.

    “Sorry…” Ash mumbled, feeling his cheeks grow hot, even as his enormous erection gave an excited, clearly visible twitch under the towel.

    “Oh, that’s ok…” The masseur replied, as if it were the most common occurrence—or maybe it actually was, in this “studio”…

    The ineluctable evidence of Ash’s arousal was sidelined for the moment being, as the masseur proceeded business-as-usual, polishing up the broad slabs Ash had for pecs and his pale, blushing nipples that were almost the same color as the rest of him.

    “You have such a nice body…” the masseur suddenly remarked.

    “Thanks…” Ash muttered. His pulse began to race, for he sensed things taking a turn—a turn he wanted.

    “You go to gym a lot?” The masseur pressed on.

    “Yeah, but mostly for training.” Ash gave a half-answer.

    “Oh?” But that piqued his masseur’s curiosity. As he kept moving his oily palms over Ash’s pink nipples, which were not insensitive, he continued probing: “Training for…”

    “Ugh, the decathlon…” Ash fessed up with bated breath—it was as if his nipples had some unseen connection to his cock, and the more the masseur teased his upper body, the more enthusiastically his lower body responded, quite literally aching to have its own turn to be caressed and handled…

    “I see…” the masseur pretended he didn’t see Ash’s throbbing manhood rearing its head beneath the towel. “Wow, no wonder…”

    Ash couldn’t take it anymore, and thought the masseur ought to stop acting like he wasn’t there to make horny bastards like Ash nut their brains out, so he decided to take matters into his own hands: He simply tugged at one corner of the towel, and the thing dropped to the floor, forcing the masseur to come face to face with his young Western client’s big white schlong, which, apparently, had been leaking pre-cum that now formed a little sticky strand from Ash’s piss slit to the spot right below his navel…

    The masseur glanced at Ash’s cock then at him, and Ash looked him back right in the eye—he hated being this desperate and pathetic, but he was also confident that the dude would know exactly what to do…

    “You want me to…” The masseur gestured at Ash’s leaky tool and didn’t finish his sentence.

    Ash merely nodded.

    The masseur then walked around to the side of the massage table—to Ash’s right—and rubbed his hands together ceremoniously, as if warming himself up for the job.

    “Fuck…” Ash gasped as the man finally wrapped one greasy hand around his circumcised dome, and tugged on his nut sac with the other.

    “Big cock…” The masseur exclaimed under his breath as he commenced stroking Ash’s stiff prick, easing into a steady rhythm.

    But Ash wanted more, so he commanded the guy: “Put both hands on it… Yeah just like that…”

    Not only did the masseur know his way around wearied jock muscles, but he evidently also knew his way around a cock—he was performing all sorts of tricks on Ash, from good old-fashioned jerking with one hand on top of another, back-handed tugs with one hand around the base, to the “endless tunnel” where one hand continuously replaced the other in a single direction, and the “fire starter” where the cock head was squeezed and rubbed rapidly…

    Ash’s favorite though, was when the guy bent his cock forward until it would go no further, and just let it snap back onto Ash’s tummy with a nasty, heavy splat… He did that over and over, until Ash could feel the sweet pressure to blow mount inside him.

    “Ugh, you’re getting me close…” Ash announced, with his hands thrown behind his head just watching his massive dong get played with.

    “You want to cum?” The masseur asked, more eagerly than he should have, as if he were the one about to shoot a load.

    “Yeah but kinda no…” Ash didn’t know what he was saying anymore—like of course he wanted to finally bust everywhere after a full week of abstinence, but at the same time he was being serviced so nicely that he didn’t want it to be over so soon…

    The masseur sensed his ambivalence.

    “Here…” He set down Ash’s cock gingerly for a minute, like it was a particularly expensive piece of machinery, and from a nearby drawer produced a jade hoop—too big to be a ring, but just a tad too small to be a bangle, so there was really only one place it could go on…

    “Let me show you this…” The masseur said as he fit the thing around the base of Ash’s shaft and around his balls, which was blushing in the same lovely pink shade as his nipples. 

    “What does it do?” It wasn’t as if Ash didn’t know what a cock ring was, but he had a distinct feeling that this one was special, with something to do with Chinese tai chi or some other oriental bull—in fact, he already felt different, like the jade ring was somehow stemming the flow of energy inside him, so that even he was just as turned-on as, if not more than, before, now he didn’t feel so pressured to shoot his spunk immediately.

    “It helps you control your chi…” The masseur explained.

    “Yeah, I can feel it…” Ash didn’t know what the fuck chi was, but he got the gist. See? He was right, the dude was some kind of kung fu master after all.

    “And take this…” The masseur held out a little brown snuffbox-type trinket.

    “Is that poppers?”

    “No,” the masseur chuckled: “It’s better…”

    Ash should probably not take strange Chinese drugs in a strange Chinese man’s home, but he was feeling adventurous and, above all, too aroused to think straight; so, just like he would poppers, he pressed one nostril shut and inhaled from the snuffbox—

    “Whoa…” 

    At first Ash felt a little light in the head and all warm and fuzzy, but then it really hit: everything came into focus and all his chakra and chi or whatever the hell it was inside him went straight to his cock and stayed concentrated there, so that he became so hard it almost hurt.

    “How do you feel?” The masseur asked.

    “Like…” Ash considered it briefly before deciding: “Like I wanna fuck something, Jesus…”

    Once again the masseur chuckled: “Yes, you look like the type who likes to fuck…”

    With that, the masseur dropped his pants, down to a black jock strap that fit him snugly, and before Ash knew it, he had hopped up nimbly onto the massage table and was straddling him over his loins.

    “You want to fuck me?” The way it was put forth to Ash was so direct as to be slightly comical, and the guy was at least fifteen years outside of Ash’s preferred age bracket—but Ash was under the dual influence of the jade cock ring and whatever he just inhaled, not to mention the dude did have a nice rack for his age, and so Ash nodded, stupidly.

    Supporting himself with one hand only, the masseur lowered himself onto Ash’s oil-slick fuck-piston, which was when Ash saw the guy’s eyes roll back and his mouth hang agape as he gasped, “Ah, you’re big…”

    “It’s in though…” Ash egged him on, watching the progress, all agog. “Yeah, just keep going…”

    “Ooh!”

    The two guys let out a simultaneous moan of both surprise and relief when the masseur eventually sat himself all the down on Ash’s bona fide meat train. The guy was tight for his age—almost as tight as the Asian bottom twinks that Ash had a penchant for.

    “C’mon, ride that cock!” Ash commanded, and the other man did not need to be told twice before he began to undulate his hips, pulling himself partway off Ash’s cock before slide-slamming it back in to the hilt, over and over, until the rim of his hole creamed up.

    “Fuck! Looking at you creaming my cock!” Ash exclaimed. Being ridden was nice, but now Ash truly wanted to just fuck, so he sat up, climbed off the massage table, rotated his fuck-toy-du-jour ninety degrees, and pointed his fat-rimmed mushroom head at the guy’s winking, creamy pucker.

    “You want my cock inside you?” Ash asked, though he already knew the answer.

    “Yeah, put it inside me…” The masseur concurred with an ugly scowl on his face.

    “Alright, let’s see how well you can take it…” Ash mumbled as he dipped himself back into his slot, and burst into a quick fit of athletic thrusts that made the old geezer whimper like a girl.

    “Yeah, you like white cock?”

    All Ash could hear was his thighs slapping against the masseur’s ass and the dude’s painful but pleased whinnies, but he wanted an answer.

    “Look at me,” Ash thus demanded: “You like this big white cock in your ass?”

    “Yes, I do…” The masseur finally nodded and replied. “I love it…”

    “Alright, I’m gonna breed you now…” Ash announced—he wasn’t asking for permission, rather simply informing the other guy of his intention. With a few more powerful pumps, Ash was finally ready to give up his weeklong backlog of jizz, as he growled, “Ugh fuck, I’m gonna… Ugh!”

    It was a bone-shudderingly good nut—the kind that made you pant and hiss despite yourself.

    When it was all over, Ash unplugged his cock, still hard, from the masseur’s used hole and watched his thick, creamy-white splooge flood out and make a mess on the massage table and the floor…

    The masseur, in turn, was still holding himself up by the back of his knees, seemingly anticipating, and remarked, “You’re still hard…”

    It was true, and Ash had a feeling he knew why, so he wrested his cock and balls out of the jade ring—sure enough, blood started to drain away from his cock and Ash began to feel like himself again.

    “You don’t want second round?” The masseur asked hopefully.

    “Nah…” Ash handed back the mystical, chi-regulating jade cock ring, still trying to catch his breath. “Let’s not overdo it.”

  • The Barn

    The face staring back at me through the dusty barn window didn’t match the one in my head. That was the first thing I noticed.

    The reflection had more lines, deeper ones, carved around the mouth and eyes from decades of squinting into the sun. My hair, once dark as fresh-turned soil, was now streaked with silver, sticking up in wild tufts where I’d run my hands through it earlier.

    I sighed. At fifty-two, I’m still catching myself by surprise, but generally, I’m fit and not overweight. Yes, I had thinning hair, but overall, I appeared okay for my age.

    As for my sex life, it was nonexistent, not because I wasn’t interested, but simply because opportunities were few and far between. Living in a rural area didn’t exactly make spontaneous encounters easy, unless you counted the occasional drunken stumble at the county fair. After Marjorie left ten years ago, taking the kids and half my soul with her, I hadn’t really put myself out there. I remember her muttering something about finding a proper man, but that dream didn’t last long, though; he left her a few years later.

    The horses didn’t care about my physical well-being or sex life. They stamped impatiently in their stalls behind me, tails flicking at flies, waiting for their evening feed. I could smell the hay, sweet and dry, mixed with the earthy musk of their coats. One of them, old Ben, the stubborn bay, snorted loudly, as if to remind me he existed. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, turning away from the window. My boots crunched over loose straw as I grabbed the feed bucket.

    Outside, the orchard stretched down the hill, rows of apple trees standing neat and orderly. The late afternoon light turned the leaves gold. I could hear the distant hum of a tractor, probably old man Henderson from the next farm over, puttering around his field. Normal sounds. Normal day. But something itched under my skin, restless. Maybe it was the way the reflection had looked at me, like it knew something I didn’t.

    I dumped the feed into Ben’s trough, watching him bury his muzzle in it with a satisfied grunt. The other horses jostled for position, their ears flicking forward in anticipation. Routine. Predictable. Safe. That’s how I liked things now. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. But sometimes, when the wind carried the scent of wild honeysuckle through the open barn doors, I’d catch myself staring at the empty stretch of road beyond the gate, wondering.

    A sharp knock at the barn door made me jump. No one ever came by this time of day. The sound echoed oddly against the wooden beams, too deliberate for a lost traveller or a neighbour asking to borrow tools. Ben lifted his head, ears swivelling toward the noise, his oats forgotten, temporarily.

    I wiped my hands on my jeans and walked toward the door, the hinges groaning as I pulled it open. “Oh, hi Tony, nice surprise. What can I do for you?”

    Tony stood there, his usual easy grin lighting up his face, though something flickered behind it, nervousness, maybe? He ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair, the gesture familiar after twenty years of living next door to each other. “Hey, um. Got a minute?” His voice was softer than usual, almost hesitant.

    I nodded and stepped aside as he walked into the barn. Tony had always been a steady presence, helping with fence repairs, bringing over extra tomatoes from his garden, laughing too loudly at my terrible jokes. A good man, the kind you could count on, especially after his wife had passed away. But the way he shifted his weight now, his boots scuffing at the dirt, set something off in my gut. This wasn’t about borrowing sugar.

    Inside the barn, the horses blew out quiet snorts, their ears twitching toward us. Tony cleared his throat. “So, uh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking. It’s been ten years since Marjorie left, right?”

    My pulse kicked up. Where the hell was this going? “Yeah,” I said cautiously.

    Tony met my eyes then, really met them, and I realised, shit. I’d seen that look a hundred times, just never directed at me. “And I’ve been widowed what, three years now?”

    He laughed, a short, shaky sound. “Christ, I’m bad at this.”

    The air between us thickened, charged like the moments before a summer storm. I could smell the faint sweat on his skin, the hay clinging to his flannel as my mouth went dry.

    Tony took a step closer. “Thing is,” he said, voice low, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while now.”

    Behind us, Ben stamped his hoof impatiently, breaking the spell. Tony chuckled nervously. “Maybe not here,” he murmured, jerking his head toward the house. “Over a beer?”

    I exhaled, my fingers twitching at my sides. “Yeah,” I managed. “Yeah, okay, but why don’t you come out with it here. You’ve made the effort coming over and not just to ask me out for a beer. Come on, mate, what’s up?”

    Tony scratched at his jaw, the rasp of stubble loud in the quiet barn. “Alright,” he muttered as he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, shoulders squaring like he was bracing for impact. “You remember that night, two summers back? After the fair, when I helped you load that drunk idiot into your truck?”

    I frowned. Some city boy had gotten handsy with Henderson’s youngest granddaughter. Yeah, I remembered. Tony had been solid that night, calm while I saw red. “What about it?”

    Tony’s boot scuffed the dirt again. “You were….” He exhaled sharply. “Christ. You had that bastard pinned against the truck bed, and I thought, ‘There he is.’” His voice dropped. “The real you. All that quiet just… burned away. That’s when I decided I love you, although I had been in love with you for ages, and you never noticed.”

    The barn smelled suddenly sharper, sweat, hay, the metallic tang of old tools. Ben shifted in his stall, ears flicking toward us like he knew this conversation would upend everything. Tony’s hands flexed at his sides before he stuffed them in his pockets. “I kept waiting for you to notice,” he said with a wry twist of his mouth. “Left the gate unlatched so you’d come over to fix it. ‘Forgot’ my wrench in your shed. Hell, I even learned to make your coffee the way you like it.”

    I could hear my own pulse in my ears. The afternoon sun slanted through the barn door, catching the dust motes swirling between us. Tony’s face was half in shadow, the lines around his eyes deeper than I remembered. “All those times you thought I was just being neighbourly,” he murmured. “I was courting you like some damn teenager.”

    The word “courting” lodged in my ribs. It belonged to a different time, to porch swings and Sunday dinners, not to two middle-aged men in a barn with work-worn hands. Tony stepped closer, close enough that I could see the flecks of silver grey in his stubble, the nervous tremor in his lower lip. “So?” he said, rough-soft. “You gonna tell me I’m a fool?” as Tony’s fingers brushed mine, tentative. Warm. “Or,” he said, so quiet the horses couldn’t hear, “you gonna kiss me?”

    Hay rustled in the stalls as the horses shifted. The scent of crushed oats and Tony’s cheap aftershave tangled together. My throat tightened. Twenty years of shared county fairs, fence repairs, and bad coffee, all those moments rewritten in a breath.

    I grabbed his wrist. Not gentle. The way I’d grab a spooked colt’s halter. Tony’s pulse jumped under my thumb. “You’re a goddamn fool,” I rasped. Then I yanked him in.

    His mouth hit mine, too hard at first, teeth clacking. Then softer. Hesitant. Like we were both relearning something forgotten. Tony made a noise low in his throat, his hands fisting my shirt. The taste of him, spearmint gum and last night’s whiskey, flooded my senses. Behind us, Ben snorted, stamping his hoof like an impatient chaperone.

    We broke apart, panting. Tony’s pupils were blown wide, his lower lip slick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning crookedly. “Well,” he said, voice wrecked, “that’s one way to say ‘me too.’”

    I shoved him against the feed sacks. Hay dust billowed up as he laughed, breathless. His hips ground against mine. “Christ, all that time I wanted to tell you something, but I couldn’t in case I got it wrong,” I muttered against his neck, biting at the salt-damp skin. “All those damn chances and missed opportunities.”

    Tony arched into me, fingers scrabbling at my belt. The barn door creaked in the wind. “Anyone could ride by, Tony, we could be seen.”

    His teeth scraped my earlobe. “Fuck’em. I’ve waited years for this moment,” he panted.

    The words punched through me. My knees nearly gave out as he fumbled with my button-fly, cursing. “Better…be quick. The horses’ll talk,” I said while trying to remain calm or certainly as calm as I could remain, as Tony’s hands undid my trousers.

    Tony laughed raggedly into my collarbone, exhaling hot against the skin. “Fuck the horses. I’m going to take you on a well overdue journey, Steve,” he declared as his fingers stilled, lifting my hands to press against the rough wood beam above us. “Hold them there,” he ordered, his voice having dropped to something dark and deliberate. “You heard me. Hold them there and enjoy the process of me taking you. I’m not waiting any longer. You are the man of my dreams, and I want you.”

    I was overwhelmed and couldn’t resist Tony’s advances as I clenched my hands around the beam, the rough wood scratching my palms. The afternoon light cut through the dusty air, painting stripes across Tony’s face as he stepped back. His gaze travelled down my body like a tractor ploughing a field, methodical and inevitable as I surrendered to his advances.

    “I’ve been imagining this,” Tony murmured, circling me. The pad of his thumb dragged over my nipple through the thin cotton as I hissed in response. “Every damn time you bent over that tractor engine, sweatin’ through your shirt,” as he hooked a finger in my belt loop, yanking me forward until our hips collided again. “Christ, Steve. You are beautiful.”

    His teeth grazed my throat as his hands worked my shirt up. The fabric caught under my arms, binding me as effectively as rope as Tony’s palms skated up my ribs, tracing the map of old scars and sun-worn skin.

    Tony pressed his mouth, nibbling my nipple, then the other, reverent in his touch, his teeth digging in a little to force a reaction from my body. His stubble scraped lower, following the trail of hair below my navel. My hips jerked involuntarily.

    Above us, a Swallow darted through the rafters, wings slicing the thick air as a groan tore from me when Tony’s tongue swiped the head of my cock through the denim of my jeans. “Y’keep your damn promise to hold onto that beam,” he growled, his fingers working my belt until the leather slithered free with a hiss. “I told you I’d take my time, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, one piece of clothing at a time.”

    A horse whinnied in a stall. The sound barely registered over the blood roaring in my ears. Tony’s knuckles brushed my bare stomach as he peeled my jeans down. Cool air rushed over heated skin. His fingers, soft and rough from years of teaching at the local school, closed around me with terrifying gentleness over the cotton fabric.

    “Look at you,” he breathed. The first stroke nearly buckled my knees. “All this time, I’ve wanted you, I’ve wanted to suck your beautiful cock, but never got closer enough and now, here I am, inches from your cock, waiting to be taken when I lower those Y-Fronts, and I am going to take it… all of it.”

    His thumb swiped my leaking head, spreading moisture in slow circles over the cotton. “Fuckin’ criminal, this being hidden for so long.”

    The laces of my boots gave way under Tony’s fingers, each tug sending tremors up my thighs. Warm afternoon air rushed over my calves as he peeled my jeans down further, the denim catching on my boots before he yanked them free with a muffled curse. Now, his efforts left me standing in nothing but my Y-Fronts, the cotton clinging where sweat and anticipation pooled while my shirt remained hooked around my shoulders.

    Tony rocked back on his heels, eyes dark as scorched earth. “Jesus wept,” he whispered, fingertips tracing the elastic waistband. The mild calluses on his hands caught the fabric, dragging it down inch by agonising inch. My cock sprang free, slapping against my stomach with a wet sound that made Tony’s nostrils flare. He inhaled sharply through his teeth like he’d been gut-punched. “Look at that. Just fuckin’ look at it.”

    Tony’s palm cradled my balls with terrifying gentleness, his thumb rolling over the sensitive skin beneath. “All those times I watched you heft hay bales,” he murmured, lips brushing the inside of my thigh. “Saw your arms flex when you swung that sledgehammer,” as his tongue darted out, licking a stripe up my shaft. “But I only dreamed I’d get to taste you,” as he slipped my Y-Fronts all the way down to pool around my ankles.

    The first suck stole my breath. Tony took me deep, throat working around me like he’d been born to do this. My fingers gripped the wooden beam tight as his nose pressed into my pubes, his eyes watering as he swallowed around my shaft as a garbled moan vibrating through my flesh.

    When he pulled off with a filthy pop, spit stringing between his lips and my cock, his grin was all teeth. “Bet you taste even better coming down my throat.”

    The barn door creaked ominously. Tony didn’t pause, just twisted his hand around the base and took me back in. Hotter. Hungrier. Like a man who’d finally found water after years in the desert. My hips jerked forward on their own, fucking into that wet heat.

    Tony’s fingers dug into my ass cheeks, spreading me wider as he worked his tongue under the crown. The swallow I felt next nearly made my knees give out. “Christ almighty….” I managed to say when his thumb pressed against my perineum, circling with filthy intent.

    He pulled off just long enough to grin up at me, his lips slick, eyes wild as a mustang. “Tell me when,” he rasped, before diving back in.

    My back arched off the beam. The world narrowed to the suction of Tony’s spit-slick mouth, the scrape of his stubble along my thighs, the way his free hand palmed my ass as he owned it. Pressure coiled low in my gut, tightening with every bob of his head. I tried to warn him, grabbed a fistful of his sun-bleached hair as I let go of the beam above my head, but Tony just hummed around me, the vibration shooting straight to my spine.

    Then it hit. My hips stuttered forward as I came harder than I had in years, spurting down Tony’s throat with a choked-off shout. He took it all, swallowing around me until I finally whimpered from physical oversensitivity. Only then did he pull off with a satisfied pop, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he’d just finished a good meal.

    “Yum, yum,” was all he said as he rose to his feet, swaying slightly, and pressed our foreheads together. His breath smelled of me, warm and salty. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment,” he admitted again, his voice wrecked, and as I looked down, his cock was clearly straining against his jeans, leaving a damp spot against my thigh.

    The barn door groaned in the wind. Somewhere beyond it, Henderson’s tractor sputtered to life. Reality crashed back in, the horses shifting in their stalls, the golden light slanting through the dust motes and the fact that my damn Y-Fronts were still tangled around my sock-clad feet.

    Tony chuckled against my neck, lips brushing the pulse point. “Steve?”

    “Hmm?”

    “Take your shirt off and lie down on the hay bales behind you,” he ordered as he nipped my earlobe. “I haven’t finished yet.”

    I was putty in his hands as I obeyed his instruction, stepping out of my Y-Fronts and then lifting my shirt over my head, dropping it onto the dirt floor just feet away from my Y-Fronts and discarded jeans.

    Tony stepped back, grinning like he’d won the county fair grand prize. “And your socks,” he demanded as his belt buckle jingled as he undid the leather. “Do you want me?” he asked, the promise in those four words sending a fresh jolt of desire through my body.

    “Yes,” was all I could manage as I lay naked on the hay bales watching his every move.

    Tony grinned as he removed his jeans, kicking the shoes off, allowing him the freedom to kick his jeans into the corner by the door. Then he tugged his shirt up and over his head, leaving him in his classic white briefs that were not Y-Fronts but similar. It was his cock, though, that drew my attention more. Tony appeared to be huge; the thick outline pressed against the cotton made my mouth go dry all over again. The damp spot from earlier had grown, the fabric clinging obscenely to the head as I now fantasised about accepting his demanding manhood.

    It had been years since I had been fucked, settling into a conventional married life, having children and then, finding out, my wife didn’t think me a proper man because I was bi, even though I had remained loyal to her.

    Now, the years of abstinence were coming to an end as Tony hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, stretching it out far enough that I caught a glimpse of dark blonde curls before he let it snap back. “Eyes up here, Steve,” he teased, tapping my chin with two fingers as I lay on the hay bale, inches from his cock.

    I couldn’t stop staring at the way his erection curved to the left, the tip leaking enough to make the briefs translucent, and I knew I would soon be enjoying what remained hidden from view.

    Tony crawled onto the hay bale, his body suspended by his knees and arms over my naked body as he leaned down to kiss me. The dry grass crackled under his weight and movement, his breath hitching when my fingers found the waistband of his briefs. “Steve….”

    I didn’t let him finish, as I pushed them down until he was free of them, using his legs to slip them all the way off as his cock pointed directly at my stomach. I swallowed hard at the sight. Thick and flushed red, the veins stood out along the shaft. A drop of precum beaded at the slit. Without thinking, I licked my lips.

    Tony groaned, his hips jerking forward. “Jesus Christ, the way you’re looking at me…Steve, you… clearly want me.”

    “I do, but I haven’t been fucked in a very, very long time, Tony.”

    “Don’t worry, mate, I brought some help,” he responded as he held up a tube a CY Jelly.

    I took the tube of lube and popped it open, squeezing probably too much onto his cock, my fingers sliding slickly along his entire length. The scent of glycerin mixed with hay and horse sweat, an oddly erotic combination. “That should make life easier,” I muttered, watching his stomach muscles twitch under my touch. His hips jerked forward, chasing my hand as I pulled away.

    Tony’s breath hitched when I spread my legs wider on the hay bale, golden afternoon light striping across my thighs. “How do you want to take me?”

    The question came out hoarse, barely louder than the swallows rustling in the rafters. I was surrendering again to this macho man I’d shared fences and beers with for twenty years, never realising he’d been aching for me all this time.

    His calloused palm pressed my knees as he slipped off the bale, pulling my legs closer to the edge where he now stood, his erect cock pointing towards its target. “Like this,” Tony growled, lining himself up.

    The blunt head of his cock pressed against me, heat and pressure building as he slowly pushed in. Another push, very slow again, almost too slow as my back arched off the bale, in response to his attempts. “Christ, you’re tight,” he gritted out, forehead damp with sweat.

    “As I said, it’s been a while since someone took me like this.”

    “Well, I hadn’t expected it to be this tight, though,” Tony said as I hissed through my teeth as he finally breached me, the stretching, burning in the best way, although it hurt. Tony stilled, his trembling thighs pressed against mine. “Alright?” he panted. When I nodded, he dragged out almost all the way before sliding back in, punching a ragged moan from my throat. The rhythm built slowly and perfectly, hay crackling beneath us, Tony’s grunts in my ear, the musky smell of sex mingling with saddle soap and dust.

    His thumb found my nipple, pinching just shy of pain as he fucked into me harder. “Look at you,” Tony rasped. “All mine.”

    The possessive note in his voice sent sparks down my spine as, by now, he was thrusting harder, finding my sweet spot that had remained dormant for a long time. I could feel my building climax every time his cock brushed past my prostate, and then when he pulled out, the sensation returned with the next thrust. I was in heaven with a man who had kept faith that one day we would be lovers.

    My body couldn’t deny Tony’s thrusts as he hit my sweet spot again, and I came, spilling a huge quantity of cum between us with a choked cry as Tony’s hips stuttered.

    “Wow,” Tony declared as my cum continued to spurt from my head. “When did you last cum, Steve? He buried his face in my neck while his cock pulsed inside me.

    I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him inside me, feeling each pulse of his cock, as he filled me with his seed. “I last shot my load a week ago,” I answered Tony, although he wasn’t too interested as he lay on my chest, exhausted and breathing hard.

    “What now?” I asked, my voice rough as gravel. The words hung between us, sticky as the sweat cooling on our bodies. Tony lifted his head from my chest, his cheek imprinted with hay marks. “Well,” he said, dragging a thumb through the mess on my stomach, “we clean up before the horses start gossiping.”

    His grin was lazy, satisfied, the same one he’d given me after we’d rebuilt my barn roof after the storm last year. I smiled at him, “We don’t need to get cleaned up just yet. We can feed the horses regardless, and then we can…. make a decision. Maybe I want you again after all this time, missing the…. Well, you know.”

    Tony chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his discarded briefs. “Christ, Steve, you’re insatiable.”

    I watched his muscles ripple under sweat-slick skin while he bent to scoop up our clothes, his spent cock swaying between his thighs. The sight sent fresh heat curling through my belly. “That’s your fault,” I muttered, swiping a finger through the cooling mess on my stomach. “Twenty years of pent-up frustration unleashed by one damn talented mouth.”

    The horses snorted impatiently as Tony pulled up his white briefs, ears flicking toward the grain bin. Tony moved differently now, lingering touches brushing my hip as he passed, fingers tracing my spine when he handed me my shirt. Every casual contact burned like a brand. “I’m staying like this because I will want you again when you feel up for it,” I declared. “You are not fucking me once and then leaving. Not now. Not this time.”

    By the time we finished mucking out the stalls, the late afternoon sun stretched lavender fingers across the orchard. Tony leaned against the fence, rolling a cigarette with hands that had just reduced me to a shuddering wreck. The match flared, illuminating the crinkles around his eyes as he inhaled, standing there in his underwear.

    “You ever think,” he said, smoke curling from his lips, “how many damn times I almost kissed you?”

    The memory hit like a hoof to the ribs, Tony holding my face steady that time I got a splinter, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. The way he lingered when handing me a beer at last year’s harvest party. All those near-misses hovered between us like fireflies as I remembered he once complimented me when he saw me in just my Y-Fronts in the garden.

    I stepped behind him, locking my arms around him as I stood naked, and he, in his white briefs. “Tell me,” I demanded against the hair on his back.

    Tony’s chuckle vibrated against my lips. He flicked the cigarette away and turned to hold me tight. “Patience, my loverboy,” he murmured, teeth scraping my earlobe. “We’ve got all evening to reminisce.”

    I bit down on his collarbone, tasting salt and promises. “We can reminisce later, as you say, but I want you now.”

    His grin flashed wolfish in the dusk. “Now. You sure?” as I pushed his white briefs down. “Here? Now?”

    “Yes, now you fucker,” I replied as I turned to the fence for support. “Right here. Now. Fuck me, you… You, brute.”

    “If you insist,” as he stepped behind me, leaving his white briefs discarded where he stepped out of them. I braced myself as he tentatively pushed in behind me, the lube and cum providing what was needed, and once in, he started to fuck me well and truly hard. The rough wood of the fence dug into my palms as he drove into me with none of the careful restraint from before. Each thrust punched a grunt from my throat, my knees nearly buckling as his hips slapped against my ass.

    Hay prickled against my bare stomach where I pressed against the rail. Tony’s breath came in ragged bursts against my shoulder, his fingers gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. “Christ,” he growled, “should’ve done this years ago, should’ve bent you over every damn fence on this property and afterwards, spank this arse of yours until it’s bright red.”

    The vulgarity sent heat flooding through me. I pushed back against him, meeting each thrust until we fell into a brutal rhythm. Dusk insects hummed around us, indifferent witnesses to the slick sounds of skin on skin, the creak of the old fence under our weight as he showed me no mercy. “Perhaps, I might like to fuck you if you wear a dress like the slut you are,” Tony suggested between the grunts and groans he made. “You might even look good in a dress.”

    I was thinking about what he had suggested as his hand slid around my throat, not squeezing, just holding, claiming, as his pace intensified. “Come for me again,” he demanded, his voice guttural.

    And God help me, I did. My climax ripped through me like a lightning strike, vision whiting out as I spilt over the fence rail in thick pulses. Tony followed with a choked curse, burying himself deep as he came, his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades.

    With almost perfect timing, we both heard, “Hi, Mr…..oh fuck, sorry… I didn’t realise. Oh God…fuck me.”

    Neither of us had heard him arriving over our ragged breathing. Adam’s voice, equal parts startled, shocked and overwhelmed at the sight in front of him, cut through our haze like a bucket of ice water.

    Tony froze inside me. His grip on my hips tightened instinctively, then loosened, too late though. Adam stood frozen by the barn door, clutching a carrot for Albert in one hand, his school backpack slipping off his shoulder. The late afternoon sun caught the flush crawling up his neck as his eyes flicked between Tony’s cock still buried in me and my cum-streaked thighs.

    Adam stood, eyes wide, unable to decide what to do next. “Um. Oh God, I can… come back later…. I really didn’t mean to disturb you guys,” as he took a half-step backwards, his trainers squelching in the damp earth. But he didn’t turn away in a hurry as his mouth remained open, his lips glistening in the fading afternoon sunlight.

    Tony exhaled a curse against my spine, his breath scalding. My own pulse hammered loud enough to drown out common sense. But Adam didn’t leave. Just adjusted his stance subtly, jeans straining at the fly by that time as he continued to stare at two naked men, caught fucking.

    Behind me, Tony chuckled darkly, his hips giving an experimental roll that made my knees shake. “Hi, Adam, we weren’t expecting you, you might have realised,” he said, nipping my shoulder. “Sorry you had to see this, and I hope you’re not too offended.”

    Adam’s breath hitched audibly. The carrot snapped in his grip, realising for the first time that one of his teachers at school was fucking a man.

    Tony didn’t pull out immediately. He just flexed inside me deliberately, making my thighs tremble as Adam’s gaze dropped to where we were joined, his teacher’s cock still buried in his neighbour’s back passage. It was then that his cheeks darkened three shades of red as embarrassment overtook his reaction.

    “Sorry, Mr Shaw, I didn’t realise that you knew Steve and that….,” Adam tried to say without sounding too interested and too, in awe, “and that, you like to fuck.”

    By now, Tony had pulled out of me and had reclaimed his briefs in a hurry as he restored his personal modesty. “You don’t have to get dressed on my account,” Adam said as he looked at me, recovering my composure. “You look very…… um…. together.”

    Adam’s voice was surprisingly calm for someone who’d just walked in on his teacher balls-deep in his neighbour. “As for being offended, not at all,” Adam responded, though his fingers were white-knuckled around the snapped carrot.

    His gaze lingered on Tony’s briefs clinging to his damp thighs. “It’s…. It’s different and yeh…. unexpected,” the words hanging between us, thick as the scent of sweat and sex in the humid air.

    Adam knelt and picked up my discarded Y-Fronts from the dirt with unexpected reverence. “Nice,” he murmured, looking at me while running his thumb over the cotton pouch. “Seldom see these these days in school. Everyone wears boxer briefs now,” as his fingers flexed around the fabric, not quite fondling, but close. When he lifted his head, his pupils were blown wide despite the golden evening light.

    Tony snorted, still gloriously bare-chested with just his white briefs clinging to his otherwise naked body. “Suppose you’re a boxer briefs type of boy,” he challenged, sizing Adam up with narrowed eyes, trying to gauge why the kid wasn’t spluttering in outrage at finding us, him a teacher, mid-fuck.

    Adam grinned, slow and knowing as he handed me my underwear. “Quite the contrary,” he said, fingers lingering against my palm. “I wear Hanes briefs. Mum bought them in the USA, and it appears you guys like traditional briefs as well, unlike the boys at school. I always think men look great in them.”

    It was obvious that Adam was talking in nervous response to the sight before him. In fact, I wondered if Adam would actually shut up as his hips shifted subtly, the movement making his school trousers pull tight across his groin. “I’ve worn nothing else since she bought them for me in the new year. In my opinion, they are the best underwear a man can wear, and are much nicer than boxer briefs and particularly, boxer shorts.”

    The admission hung between us, thick as the scent of hay and sex. Tony’s nostrils flared, scenting fresh arousal beneath the adolescent bravado. My own pulse jumped when Adam casually adjusted himself through his trousers, the fabric tenting obscenely.

    Tony moved first, stepping close enough to make Adam’s breath hitch. “You can show us if you like,” Tony suggested. “Don’t be shy. You clearly have a…. a thing.”

    When Adam hesitated, Tony grabbed the boy’s belt buckle, making the metal jingle. “Or would you like me to help you? Perhaps you’re lying.”

    Adam moaned, high and desperate, as Tony’s knuckles brushed the unmistakable bulge beneath his zipper. “Mr Shaw, I’m not lying. I never would. You know that,” he tried to assure us as the broken carrot fell forgotten to the dirt. “It’s just…. You are my teacher, and Steve here is my friend who allows me to ride his horse and….Oh god,” as he started to hyperventilate a little.

    “Adam, relax, there’s nothing to be worried about. This is all very unexpected, I know, but because you haven’t run off, screaming, we are wondering, are you gay? Most men who claim to be straight would excuse themselves, pronto and then leg it.      

    The young man looked at us, unsure what to say or do.

    I looked at the boy and smiled. “It’s nothing to worry about if you are, you know,” I stated. “The mere fact that you haven’t moved since finding us leaves the question wide open.”

    Adam’s throat bobbed. He glanced between Tony and me, then stared at the broken carrot halves lying in the dirt. “I like girls,” he blurted, then winced at his own words. “I mean…I want to like girls.” His fingers plucked at his school jumper. “But when I wank…” He cut himself off, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

    Tony barked a chuckle and hooked a finger in the boy’s belt loop. “Let me guess, you imagine a …. man watching you shoot your load?”

    Adam’s knees buckled slightly when Tony tugged him closer. “I….” The confession burst out like a dam breaking. “I come here because Mr Peterson, Steve, stacks hay bales shirtless, and I can see his, your underwear. I fantasise about seeing him, sorry, you, Steve, in your Y-Fronts as I cum. It sort of turns me on, big time, and… there was one occasion I saw you, Steve, in the orchard, working away wearing nothing but your white Y-Fronts.”

    “Really?” I asked. “You fantasise about me while you masturbate?”

    “Um…sorry…. yes,” Adam confessed. “You are the only guy I know that I fantasise about, and…. I don’t know, I have tried a couple of times to appear attractive to you, but…. You never seem to notice my…. Well, you never really notice me.”

    “Wow, I’m sorry I never noticed, and I wish I had. It might have made a difference for you.” I replied to his honest statement. “It appears I have not noticed a lot of things over the years,” as I glanced at Tony.

    Tony chuckled. “Adam, same here. Steve never noticed I was madly in love with him, and that’s why I decided to approach him today. You might say, there are none so blind as those who won’t see, and I could except his blindness any longer. I confessed my love and, bingo, the rest is history,” Tony said with a beaming smile.

    “Now, Adam, back to our conversation about underwear. Wearing Y-Fronts is more common than you think and…. I get your interest. Some men are specifically aroused by the sight, feel, or even smell of Y-fronts or briefs, whether worn by themselves or a partner, and as you probably know, in the USA they call them tighty whities.”

    “Exactly,” Adam chipped in. “I get a little excited about wearing them or seeing guys wear them.”

    “And now you have suggested to us you are sexually conflicted. You don’t need to be conflicted. You can take the first step by showing us, since it appears the only truthful people around here are you and me. Call it what you like: friends together, sex education. Trusting us with your secret.”

    “I don’t know,” Adam responded as he nervously played with his belt buckle.

    “That’s it,” I murmured, circling behind Adam, allowing my hands to settle on his narrow hips, feeling the tremors running through him. “It’s natural to be nervous, especially the first time, but perhaps let Tony and me see what you’ve been hiding under those school clothes. You might even enjoy the attention.”

    Adam whimpered when my thumbs hooked into the waistband of his school trousers as Tony’s hungry gaze locked on the strip of skin, exposed inch by agonising inch as I pulled his pullover up and over his head, leaving his school shirt untucked above his belt.

    “Well done, Adam, on letting me take your pullover off,” as my fingers traced his supple skin along the waistband of his white Hanes briefs peeking out above the waistband of his school trousers.

    Tony exhaled sharply through his nose. “Fuck me,” he rasped, “You actually do wear Hanes briefs. I bet you anything that you have been leaking madly since you first saw us, haven’t you?”

    Adam nodded frantically. “Nothing I could do, I guess. Natural response and all, I guess. It always happens to me, and sometimes it’s quite embarrassing, especially at school.”

    I resumed tracing my fingers along his skin. “No pressure, but how would you like to share a journey today with us? Call it what you like, but perhaps it will help with your sexual conflict, in a safe environment.”

    “What sort of journey?” Adam asked.

    “How about losing your virginity?” I responded. “That’s a journey we could prepare you for by… undressing you and then perhaps, I could provide you with a blowjob? Ever had a blowjob?”

    Adam froze, his breath hitching. “N-no, Steve.”

    “Would you like one?” I whispered into his ear, “From me,” as my fingers were now employed unbuttoning his white school shirt.

    Adam’s knees buckled slightly at my question. “I…. I don’t know,” Adam responded, as his school shirt fell open, revealing a pale but firm stomach quivering under our scrutiny.

    “You don’t need to do anything, Adam, just sort of lie back and think of ……England, and I will do the rest,” as my fingers traced the tense planes of Adam’s stomach, feeling the involuntary tremors beneath his skin. The kid’s breath hitched when my thumbs brushed over his nipples, small, pink, and already stiffening despite his nervous protest as I gently pinched and twisted them.

    I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, caught between teenage bravado and raw inexperience. Tony’s chuckle rumbled behind me, warm against my shoulder. “Christ, look at him,” he muttered, nudging me. “He’s like a rabbit in headlights.”

    “Steve, no one has seen me naked,” he whispered as I gently scratched his chest and stomach with my nails.“

    “Would you mind if I undressed you, Adam?” I responded as my fingers started to unbuckle his belt. “From what I’ve seen so far, I think you have a lovely body,” as my finger travelled down his naval, playing with his hair like runway landing lights.

    Adam whimpered when my fingers worked his belt free. His trousers sagged instantly, revealing more of those pristine white Hanes clinging desperately to his narrow hips. I could already see the damp patch at the front, the fabric stretched taut over what was clearly an impressive erection for his age, but my fingers now traced circles on his buttocks, and I continued to slip his trousers lower over his bottom.

    “Adam, do you trust me?” as Tony moved in and picked Adam up and carried him over to the bale of hay, seating him at the edge with his legs dangling down.

    Adam remained silent as Tony’s hands made quick work of the young man’s shoes and socks, and then, pushing his white school shirt over his shoulders, he tossed it onto the ground along with his other items now discarded.

    “Stand up, Adam,” I commanded him.

    Adam stood on the bale, his feet bare, his chest looking young and magnificent as I peeled his black school trousers down past his knees. “Sit down now,” I told him as I looked at his pristine white Hanes briefs with a whacking erection clearly visible. I also noted that his precum was…. Well, let’s say working overtime, leaking at an alarming rate from a cock I had yet to see.

    I peeled his trousers from his legs and tossed them towards the other clothing. The scent of adolescent arousal hit me, sweat and salt and something unmistakably virginal, teasing my senses as the boy looked, delectable in his briefs.

    “I want you to lie down on the bale and let me take control and… yes, I’m going to remove your briefs, and Tony and I are going to admire your nubile naked body, and then, I’m going to give you your first blowjob. Does that sound like a plan?”

    Adam didn’t say a word as he assumed the position I had requested him to adopt. He lay on the hay bale in his white Hanes briefs, legs trembling slightly in the evening air. I traced the elastic band of his Hanes with one finger, feeling the damp heat radiating from beneath. “You look beautiful, Adam,” I murmured, thumb catching on the wet patch at the front. “And Tony and I can see you’re extremely…. damp.”

    His hips jerked involuntarily at my touch as I ran my fingers over the fabric, feeling the head of his cock. “Yum yum, circumcised,” I muttered. “Perhaps it’s time to remove these for you,” I continued, hooking my fingers in the waistband.

    “Can you hurry up, Steve?” Tony said. “The suspense is killing me. I want to see his magnificent manhood sometime this afternoon.”

    Ignoring Tony’s comment, Adam’s breath came in shallow gasps, his fingers twisting in the hay beneath him. His briefs were soaked through, clinging obscenely to every contour, the fabric stretched thin over the head of his cock. A bead of precum darkened the cotton further as I watched. Tony exhaled sharply beside me, his erection straining against his own briefs again.

    Tony was becoming impatient again as he whispered in my ear. “I’m going to fuck you again, you slut, while you blow him.”

    Adam’s eyes widened as he absorbed what Tony had just said, his breath more ragged as I knelt before him, my fingers now hooked under the waistband of his briefs. The scent of his arousal, sweet and musky, filled my nose, mingling with the hay beneath us. The outline of his cock was clearly visible, the head glistening through the damp cotton. I glanced up at him, my thumbs brushing his hip bones. “Adam?” I asked again, my voice low. “Last chance to say no.”

    “Fuck sake, Steve, get on with it,” Tony exclaimed as Adam swallowed hard, then shook his head, not in refusal, but in disbelief. “I….please,” he breathed, hips lifting slightly off the hay. It was all the permission I needed.

    I pulled his Hanes briefs down over his toes, dropping them into the dust, and then I saw him, beautiful, circumcised, at least six inches or pure magnificent meat waiting to be devoured for the first time.

    His cock stood proud and flushed against his stomach, the head slick with precum. “Fuck me,” I said aloud before wrapping my lips around him for the first time. The taste was sharp and musky, adolescent need distilled into salt and heat. Adam gasped, his hands flying to my hair just as Tony’s familiar weight settled behind me.

    “Finally,” Tony said as the first thrust of Tony’s cock breaching me nearly made me choke, but I bore down, taking Adam deeper. Adam’s fingers tightened in my hair, his hips jerking uncontrollably as I worked him with lips and tongue. Tony’s rhythm behind me was relentless, each stroke pushing me forward onto Adam’s cock. The boy whimpered, his thighs trembling, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

    I could tell Adam wasn’t going to last long, the downside to being a virgin, I guess. Adam’s climax hit suddenly. One moment, he was panting; the next, his back arched as he spilt into my mouth with a choked cry. The taste, bitter, salty and thick, flooded my tongue just as Tony’s thrusts turned erratic behind me. He groaned, burying himself deep, and I knew he wasn’t far off either.  I wasn’t wrong as he thrust once more and then groaned, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave marks as he climaxed, as I still had Adam’s cock in my mouth.

    I continued to suck Adam until he couldn’t take my ministrations any longer, and when I finished, Adam lay boneless, helpless, on the hay, his chest heaving, his breathing ragged and uncontrolled.

    Tony slumped against my back, his breath hot on my neck. The scent of sex hung thick in the air, mingling with the sweetness of crushed grass and the musk of horses nearby. Adam turned his head, blinking dazedly at us.

    “Did you just…?” His voice cracked.

    Tony chuckled darkly. “Yep, Adam. You just lost your first stage of virginity to a barnyard sandwich.”

    Adam groaned, covering his face with his hands, but I didn’t miss the way his fingers lingered near his mouth, as if still tasting the moment. “Wow,” he said, still covering his eyes with his fingers.

    Tony pulled out of me with a slick sound, his softening cock glistening in the twilight. “Barnyard sandwich?” I muttered, wiping my chin. “Really?”

    Tony just grinned, collapsing onto the hay beside Adam. “Adam’s gonna remember this forever,” he said, ruffling Adam’s sweaty hair. “Might as well make it memorable.”

    Adam peeked between his fingers, his chest still flushed pink. His spent cock lay against his thigh, twitching slightly when Tony’s knuckles brushed it while reaching for his cigarettes. “Fuck,” Adam breathed, more awed than horrified. “That actually happened. Oh my God, it actually happened. It was… fucking amazing.”

    I stretched out beside them, the hay prickling my bare skin. Tony lit a cigarette, the match flare highlighting the bite marks on my shoulders. He exhaled smoke toward the rafters where swallows darted in and out of their nests. “So,” he said casually, “you still like girls?”

    Adam’s laugh was shaky. “I think,” he said slowly, watching Tony’s lips around the cigarette, “I might need to reevaluate if it’s always like that.”

    Tony passed the cigarette to me, our fingers brushing. Adam tracked the movement hungrily. When I offered it to him, he hesitated only a second before taking a drag, too deep, and coughing violently.

    Tony thumped his back. “Easy, boy. Some things take practice.” His grin turned wicked. “Good thing you’ve got teachers, but, trust me, once you start fucking, it gets even better.”

    Adam’s eyes widened as Tony’s hand slid down my spine, coming to rest possessively on my arse. “Lesson two starts when you are ready,” Tony murmured, squeezing. “Unless you’ve got homework?”

    Adam sat up abruptly, hay sticking to his damp thighs. “No! I mean….” He swallowed hard, gaze dropping to Tony’s thick fingers, kneading my flesh. “I’m free and… and I like the lesson for a change.”

    I chuckled, stubbing out the cigarette in the dirt. “Then get comfortable, Adam,” as I pulled him down between us, his bare skin warm against us both. “I haven’t had this much sex in years, and I’m loving it, and I am like you, demanding satisfaction.”

    Tony laughed. “It only took a miracle to coax you out of your shell, Steve, but now, there’s no stopping you, it would seem.”

    “Perhaps I’m making up for lost time, Tony,” I suggested, “and Adam here is just a beginner, but I suspect a quick learner. If you’re feeling exhausted, take a seat and see what happens next.”

    Tony chuckled, shaking his head as he rolled onto his side. “Christ, Steve, you’re worse than a cat on heat.” But he didn’t walk away. Tony just propped himself up on an elbow, watching intently as I traced the curve of Adam’s hipbone with my finger.

    Adam shivered, his cock already twitching back to life against his thigh. I leaned in, letting my breath ghost over the flushed tip. “Well, Adam?” I murmured, watching his pulse leap in his throat. “Do you fancy your first fuck?”

    His fingers twisted in the hay beneath us, crushing brittle stalks. The golden boy scent of him, sun-warmed skin and salt, filled my nose as I waited. “With…. with who?”

    Tony exhaled smoke through his nostrils like a dragon considering its next meal. “To fuck or to be fucked, that is the question,” he said, tapping ash onto Adam’s bare thigh, watching the boy shiver as my finger played with his slit now that he was fully erect again.

    Adam’s lips parted in a perfect pink O of indecision. His gaze darted between Tony’s muscled torso, still gleaming with sweat, and my own cock stirring against his hip. “I… I don’t…know how to…”

    “Ah, the question is an answer,” Tony declared. “Steve, he doesn’t know how to fuck. Perhaps we should show him. What do you think?”

    Come on, you too, don’t take the piss,” Adam begged with a chuckle.

    “Fair enough,” I said, climbing off the bale to grab the CY Jelly as Tony made some space. “I want you to fuck me, Adam and take your time. No rush.”

    I returned to sit on Adam’s legs, his naked body flushed with a renewed erection demanding satisfaction. His cock stood stiff against his stomach, thick and pink-tipped, far more impressive than most boys his age. The scent of him, musky and sweet with youth, filled my nose as I squeezed a generous dollop of lube onto my fingers.

    “You ready?”

    Adam smiled and nodded his head as I started to smear the lube onto his magnificent cock. “I’m going to enjoy this, Adam, and so will you,” as I now shuffled up his thighs to straddle his hips, taking his cock in my hand, guiding it into my waiting body. “It’s going to feel tight and warm, and once you’re in, your body will know what to do. Just go with the flow.”

    Tony chuckled darkly from where he lounged against a hay bale, his own cock hardening again as he watched me sink onto Adam’s virgin length. “That’s it, Steve,” Tony murmured around his cigarette, “take the boy nice and slow.”

    Adam gasped, his fingers digging into my thighs as I lowered myself onto his cock inch by inch. His hips twitched impatiently beneath me, his cockhead probing at my entrance before sliding in with a slick pop. “Oh fuck,” Adam whimpered, his blond lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. “It’s so… so…”

    “Tight?” Tony supplied, stubbing out his cigarette and moving closer. “Hot?” He ran a calloused palm up Adam’s chest, tweaking a nipple. “Better than your hand?” as his other hand settled on my hip, guiding my movements as I began to rock.

    Adam could only nod frantically, his eyes rolling back as I took him deeper. The stretch burned deliciously. Adam wasn’t small by any means, and the way his cock twitched inside me told me he was fighting not to come immediately. Tony’s hands wandered lower, one circling Adam’s cock where it disappeared into me, the other sliding to find my own spent erection. “Look at him, Steve,” Tony growled in my ear, his thumb smearing precum across my slit. “He’s never felt anything like this.” His fingers tightened around my cock. “Make him remember it.”

    I rocked forward, letting Adam’s cock drag against that sweet spot inside me before sinking back down. Adam’s breath hitched sharply, his hips jerking upward uncontrollably. “Fuck! Fuck, Mr Shaw…” as he looked at his teacher.

    Tony silenced him with a rough kiss, swallowing his whimpers as I increased the pace just slightly. The barn air grew thick with the scent of hay and sex, Adam’s sweat-slick chest heaving beneath me as Tony worked my cock in time with my movements, as he managed to still kiss Adam.

    Adam’s climax built visibly, his thighs trembled violently, his balls drawing tight against his body. His fingers dug into my hips hard enough to bruise, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as Tony broke their kiss to murmur filth in his ear. “That’s it, boy. Let go. Fill Steve up.”

    The command tipped Adam over the edge. His back arched off the hay bale as he came, pulsing young cum in me with choked, breathless gasps. Tony groaned appreciatively at the sight, kissing down Adam’s throat as I milked him through it, riding out each spasm until the boy collapsed boneless beneath us.

    Tony wasted no time. He hauled me off Adam’s softening cock, forcing me onto my hands and knees before I could protest as Adam remained underneath me. “My turn,” he growled, lining himself up.

    Adam watched dazedly as Tony pushed into me with one smooth thrust, the remaining lube making the stretch easier this time. “Christ, you’re still tight,” Tony grunted, his fingers biting into my hips. Adam licked his lips unconsciously at the lewd squelch of Tony’s cock driving into me, his own softening length twitching with renewed interest. “Lesson three, Adam,” Tony panted, snapping his hips sharply. “A real man always goes for seconds.”

    The rhythm was brutal. Tony’s thighs slapped against my arse with each thrust, his balls swinging heavy against mine. Adam’s gaze was glued on Tony, his mouth slightly open. I groaned as Tony hit that sweet spot again, sparks dancing behind my eyelids. “Fuck, right there!”

    Tony chuckled darkly and angled his hips deliberately, battering that bundle of nerves mercilessly. My cock dripped onto the boy’s stomach beneath me, untouched and achingly hard.

    Adam reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing my leaking tip. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I arched back onto Tony’s cock with a choked cry just as Adam wrapped hesitant fingers around my shaft. “You’re…you’re so wet,” Adam murmured, thumb swiping through the cum beading at my slit. Tony’s rhythm faltered for half a second, his groan rumbling through my spine as he watched his student fist my cock.

    The dual sensations were overwhelming. Tony was pounding my prostate while Adam clumsily wanked me off. When Tony hit the spot again, my vision whited out. Before I knew it, I was shooting thick ropes across Adam’s chest, striping his flushed skin with my release. Tony swore violently, slamming home one final time as he came, his hips stuttering against my arse as he filled me. Adam stared down at the mess on his chest, then tentatively brought sticky fingers to his mouth, tasting me with a look of awed curiosity.

    Tony collapsed beside us, breathing heavily. He reached out lazily, gathering some of my semen from Adam’s sternum and sucking it off his fingers. “Welcome to adulthood, boy,” he smirked. Adam’s answering grin was shaky but genuine, his fingers still tracing the cooling stripes on his chest.

    The barn smelled like sex and sweat and crushed grass. Adam sat up slowly, wincing slightly at the mess on his stomach. “So…” he began, then hesitated, his gaze flicking between us. “Does this make me gay now?”

    Tony barked a laugh and lit another cigarette. “Son,” he exhaled smoke towards the rafters, “right now you’re just a boy who got very lucky,” as he nudged my thigh with his foot. “Though if you want the full membership package…”

    Adam’s blush deepened, but his laugh was genuine this time. He leaned back in the hay, stretching like a contented cat, his body gleaming in the golden evening light filtering through the barn slats.

    “You can come back tomorrow,” Tony said, exhaling smoke toward the rafters. His fingers were tracing idle circles on my thigh. “Unless Steve here has drained you dry.”

    Adam grinned, a hint of mischief sparking behind his exhaustion. “I’ll bring my lunch,” he suggested, his fingers trailing through the mess on his stomach. “Maybe you’ll let me eat it out here while watching you two.”

    Tony’s chuckle was dark and promising. “Oh, we’ll give you something better to watch than sandwiches,” as he nudged my hip with his foot again. “Won’t we?”

    I stretched lazily, the hay prickling my bare skin. “We could always show him how to properly eat out,” I murmured, watching Adam’s pupils dilate at the implication.

    Adam swallowed hard, his fingers plucking nervously at the hay beneath him. His cock gave a valiant twitch against his thigh, already half-hard again despite his youthful exhaustion. “I should…” He gestured vaguely toward the farmhouse, his school clothes still discarded in the dirt. “Mum will be wondering why I’m late for dinner.”

    Tony smirked, tapping ash onto Adam’s bare knee. “Best not give her reasons to ask questions then,” as he plucked Adam’s shirt from the ground, tossing it at his chest.

    Adam stood up and walked to the fence outside the barn, and started to piss. His naked form, his bottom, unbelievably demanding to be touched and the flow of his water, beautiful to behold, was almost too much for me to resist. Shaking his cock afterwards, he scrambled to dress, his movements clumsy with lingering pleasure. His briefs were still damp when he pulled them up, the cotton clinging obscenely to his softening length as he tucked his impressive length inside. And then, pulling up his trousers and tucking in his shirt, provided another instance of desire that I would have to wait to sample.

    Now fully dressed, holding his pullover and backpack, he hesitated at the barn door, silhouetted against the fading light, his hand hovering on the latch. “Tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “After school tomorrow?”

    “I’m sure we can accommodate you, after school tomorrow. I could even give you a lift,” Tony declared.

    Adam’s answering laugh was bright with promise as he slipped out into the twilight, the barn door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud. The scent of hay and sex lingered in the air, mingling with Tony’s cigarette smoke and a nay from the horses in their stalls.

    I rolled onto my side, tracing the sweat-damp hollow of Tony’s throat. “You’re terrible,” I murmured, nipping at the stubble along Tony’s jaw. “Corrupting the local youth.”

    Tony’s hand slid possessively down my spine, coming to rest just above the curve of my arse. “Only the ones worth corrupting if you don’t mind,” he growled, his fingers tightening. “Now, what about one for the road?”


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