Author: admin

  • the true meening of family

    I remeber it like it just happend, the smell, the look in his eyes the why he said my name. it was just perfect.

    “wake up kid, we’re here” said the man who picked me up a while back. i was heading home for my grandmother’s funaral. the base was kind enough to give me leave for three weeks.

    when i woke up i saw we were in my home town wherre i grew up, and not to far frorm my childhood home. so i got out the truk, thanked the man for bringing me this far and headed for the house. when i git there i saw him, andie. andie’s built was the best i’ve ever seen, even in the army. it’s a bidy that a greek god woukd kill to have. he was blond with light blue eyes that looks right into your soul

    i wasn’t to bad, hard abs, no fat anywhere on me also blond with blue eyes with a swimmers and runners body. andie was my uncle-more like the older brother i never had. i was birn when he was 3 yearsw old,so we grew up together and went to the ame school we were nor than uncle and nephew, we were best friends and knew almst everything about each other-exept for one thing. 

    so i saw him on the patio taking a smoke and at first he didn’t reconize me but when he did he came running and grabing me for a big hug. “man alan, how longs it been? and you’ve never looked beter!” andie said after breaking the big hug that nearly broke my ribs. “you haven’t changed a bit andie, still a handsome devil if not more!” i said as we walked inside the house. after all the greating my mum and dad, uncels and aunties me and andie went to put my stuff in my old bedroom, to my seprise me and andie were sharing a room! we’ve shared a room many times in the past but those were different times, when i could still get by not rhinking of sleeping with ny uncle/brother/best friend. i figured if i could do on the base i can do it for a few nights here

    so the funaral came and went, it was very sad and everyone cried. after that it was time to relax and enjoy the holiday. one day when when evryone was out for some reason i went to my room for a nice jerk off that i so desirved after living with andie for 4 nights in a row. so i git in the web, got my laptop and started watching some gay porn. i was robing my 8″ dick thru my gymshorts when out of nowhere andie came out of the bathroom joining to m yroom with only a towel around him stil driping wet! i was ready to jumpo out the window when i saw this devilish smile in his face. “so you’re finally readdy to have some fun are you?” now i’ve known that i was gay for a long long time but i never told anyone. so andie just sat down rihgt next to me and with one hand rubed my now steel hard dick an drubing his own growing dick thru the towel. “i’ve wanted you for so long al, but i could never make a move on you because i didn’t know how you would’ve acteed.” “y-you meen your gay?? h-how? when…UHHHHH thta feels  so good!” the he he let go of the towl and wiped my dick out and without any warrning he swallowe it into his hot, wet mouth and i almost screamd out loud when he did that. “UHHHHHHH FUCK ANDIE YEAH TAKE IT ALL!!!!! SUCK THAT FUCKING DICK” 

    after about 5 min i pulled him off and brought him to my face and gave him a passionat kiss like i’ve never kissed befor. as we made out for what seem d a lifetime he undressed me and both of us were anked on the bed kissing like theres no tommorow. i broke the kiss and moveed down his god-like body untill i met his nippelks and sucked and bit on each on. “OHHHHH AL, FUCK THIS FEELS SO GOOD”. after that i found his happy trail that lead to his huge (9 1/2″ cock that looked like a firewose thats leaking pre-cum. i sucked it all into my mouth and it tased sweeter than mine ever did so i took his whole cock in my mouth and licked the hed of it. he then did a 69 posision on me and after about 10 min he started to give me my first rimjob ever. fuck the feeling was nothing i’ve ever felt before. “ANDIE YEAH BABY FUCK EAT THA ASS UHHHHHHHHHH FUCK YEAH” he put a finger up my ass and fuck it felt so good i puched back on his hand for more the he used two fingers and then three and thats when i couldn’t take it anymore and beged him to fuck me

    OHHHH ANDIE FUCK ME JUST SLIDE YOUR DICK UP ME I WANT YOU SO BAD” i didn’t even have to ask twice, he roled me over and used his spit to lube up his dick an dmy ass and slowlly to put hid dick up my ass, hen the head poped thru this stabing pain shot trhu my entire body “are you ok al, do you want me to stop?” “no! don’t stop please just don’t stop” and with that he went deeper and deeper until all of it was in. he the started a rhythem and with time ther pain became pure plesure. after a while i was pushing myself back onto him “YEAH FUCK MY MAN PUSSY YEAH UHHHHH FUCK YEAH THATS IT HARDER FUCE ME HARDER” the swet was running down him and when he looked at me i could see the love and the lust he hade for me, and the way he sayd my name, “OH AL, IT FEELS SO GOOD, YOUR MAN PUSSY FEEELS SO GOUD AROUND MY DICK” 

    after a while he started to moan loader, he grunted more and his body was as hard as a rock, and then i felt his hot thick load shot up me, and thast drove me to the edge, and shot of my load over my head, on both our chests. he poped out me liced the cum of me and gave me a hard deep kiss and shared my own cum with me

    afteerr that w elayd there just talking and rubing our chests and went to go clean up before veryoone got back. at dinner that night mom asked what we were uo to the whole day :oh, ya know just chillin and playying some games” finall dinner was over and it was time for bed, me and uncle andie had some ‘gaming’ to do

    the end


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


  • Confessions of a Sugar Boy

    Hi my name is Marko. I’m 28 years old, and I’m a Dentist. I am gay, and this story helped me decided to come out. This story is 100% true, and probably the best times of my life while I was at the end of Dental School. For privacy reasons some details have been changed. 

    I was in my 3rd year of Dental School. The classes were getting easier, and I was able to start enjoying some free time from the hard classes and constant studying. I swam in college, and grew up swimming. Swimming was always important to me. I enjoyed wearing tiny speedos, and having a great swimmer’s body. I was at the school’s pool swimming like I always due. The pool is full of older overweight men who can’t swim. There might be the occasional younger swimmer like me, but for the most part recreational. No one else at the pool wears a speedo. I love speedos, and always will. The best thing about being a swimmer is the excuse to shave your legs, so I still shave my legs. I am not a very hairy person, but my legs have always been really hairy. So, I shave my legs a couple times a week just to look cleaner when I swim. 

    On a random afternoon I was swimming, and to my surprise I happened to get a glimpse of another guy wearing a speedo. This turned me on. He was a few lanes down from me, but was wearing a tight black speedo brand speedo…classic. He wasn’t as good as me, but was decent. He looked really tall and tan. After a few more laps, I noticed the guy got in the lane next to me. I stopped at the wall to catch my breath. While I was on the wall, I heard the guy start talking to me.

    He said “Hey man, don’t see many other guys rockin’ the speedo around here. I dig it.” I said “No kidding.” He introduced himself. His name was James. He was tall, and handsome. His hair was dark black and slicked back. His smile was perfect. We made small talk nothing serious. Then both got back to swimming. I could not stop thinking about how hot he was while I finished swimming that day. I jerked off a few times that night thinking about him. 

    One week later, I was swimming my laps, and then I saw James standing above my lane. I stopped. I looked up, and all I saw was his huge bulge in his tight speedo. He asked if he could swim with me since all the other lanes were taken. I said sure. We swam separately for a little bit while he warmed up. We got to talking more, and I found out he was divorced. I told him I was in Dental school. He was impressed with how smart I was…I was impressed by how sexy he was. He didn’t say, but I would guess he was 10 years older than me. He worked in finance downtown is all he said about his job. We swam, then talked, and swam more. We both got tired. I said I was going to go shower off and change. He followed me to the locker room. 

    The showers were one big open area. I usually just rinse off while keeping my speedo on. I never use any shampoo or body wash, and just towel dry my hair when I’m done. Well, I was showering and then James walked into the shower naked with a dope kit full of bathroom things. I could not help but stare at his amazing body. His dick was huge. Not to mention he didn’t have one hair on his entire body (which I guess I didn’t notice before?). He wouldn’t stop talking about stupid things, but I could not stop staring at him. I then decided to take off my speedo. I took it off, and hung it on the wall. I tried not to get rock hard, but it was impossible. I could smell his masculine body wash. I asked him if I could borrow it. He let me borrow all his things. I didn’t really care about brands, but these looked like some expensive brands. Especially the Versace Body wash. It smelled amazing. I couldn’t help but keep pouring that all over my body. He turned off his shower and walked to his locker butt naked and dripping wet. I finished using all his products. I could not figure out if he was gay or not? Some things he did made me think he was, but he acted very straight. Did he think I was gay? I tried my best to act straight around him. I turned off my shower, and grabbed my speedo. 

    His locker was 2 away from mine…He said “what are the odds?” His hair was dripping wet and slicked back. He had amazing hair. He said he came from work, and had to put his suit back on. I just had jeans and a Tshirt. He was talking, and asked what I was doing for dinner since it was about 5:00. I said nothing, and he asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with him just as a couple guys getting a beer and food…”nothing weird” he added. I said “sure why not?” He asked me if I had been to a certain restaurant, I had not…and if I was thinking about the right place it was really expensive? He said it was a little more formal. I said I only had jeans and a Tshirt. He then said I could borrow some of his clothes if I didn’t mind going to his place real quick. I said no that fine, and he had already offered to drive. We finished changing, and walked out his car. His long black hair was still wet and slicked back. His suit looked very expensive and perfectly tailored. My hair was a mess, and my outfit was sloppy compared to his. He unlocked his car, and the headlights to a brand new Range Rover went off. I couldn’t believe he would drive that nice of a car? I said nice car, and he said he just got it. I got in his car, and we started driving downtown. 

    We were in the car making small talk, and we got downtown to the nicest building. He pulled up to the front of the building, and we got out. I couldn’t believe he lived in the most expensive building in the city. He handed the valet worker a $20 bill to park his car. As we walked through the lobby, I could not help but notice how fancy it was. There were shops, and rich people everywhere. Then, the front desk yelled his name. We walked over there, and they asked James “are you here for your hair appointment?” James had forgot he had a hair appointment that was scheduled for 5 min ago. He asked if I cared if he went and got his haircut, I didn’t care. He said I could just watch and wait. The building was so nice and fancy. We got to the salon in the basement, it was the nicest salon I had ever been too. We walked to the back of the shop where a small Italian guy was is in the back waiting on James. 

    James hands me his suit jacket and tie, while he unbuttons his white dress shirt. The barber and James are making small talk. After about 20 minutes they were done with his hair. James looked amazing. His hair was still long on top, but the sides had been taken in. It was slicked back with pomade. Then, the barber put his chair down and started shaving his face…I had never seen a guy get his faced shaved at the barber…it was quite sexy. I was getting a little hard. 10 minutes later he was done. James’ face was clean shaven to go with his slicked back hair. He looked even more sexy. 

    Then, James pointed at me and said “You’re next.” James had sweet talked the barber into cutting my hair. I hadn’t had my hair cut in 6 months. It was long. My hair was dark brown and bushy. I didn’t do much with it ever, sometimes I put some gel in it if I needed to look more professional. I sat down and he put the cape around me while James and the barber stood behind me talking about hair options. They agreed on something, and the barber got to work. He grabbed his clippers and took a lot of hair off the sides…leaving plenty on top. He then got out his scissors and cut a few stray hairs. He washed my hair, and then blow dried it backwards. After several minutes of blow drying my hair, he grabbed some gel and slicked my hair backwards, then parted it on the side. I looked in the mirror. I had never looked so sophisticated or smart. I looked like a real gentleman. Then, the barber did it…he lowered my chair, and started putting shaving cream on my face…then a hot towel. He removed the towel, and then put more shaving cream on my face. Then, the razor was pressed against my face. It felt funny, but very sexy. 10 minutes later, he put my chair up and I saw a completely clean shaven smooth face. I looked so handsome. Then, he asked if I had ever had my eyebrows waxed. I said no…my eyebrows were a little bushy, but I didn’t think they looked bad? He then put some hot wax on my eyebrows, and pulled…it hurt. But, they looked fabulous. I looked like a different person. The barber then washed my entire face off with some sweet smelling lotion. Followed by a lot of after shave. It burned, but smelt very masculine. 

    We left the salon both looking good. We got to the elevator, and James pushed one of the buttons on the top row. James looked over at me, and said “You look like a new man!” I thanked him for the compliment. He then said “That he couldn’t go to dinner with someone that didn’t look their best.” I agreed with him…I could have used the help of a small makeover. There was tension in the elevator. Then, James did something I was not expecting. James touched my clean shaven face, and said “Don’t you love the way that feels?” I could not help but think James left his hand on my face for a very long time. I said “My face feels very smooth.” He then asked if I wanted to touch his face…I felt obligated to touch it…so I ran my hand along his chiseled jaw line. It was very smooth. I could feel my penis throbbing. The elevator kept going up and up. Then finally we reached the top floor. James owned the penthouse. The doors opened and his apartment was incredible. 

    We walked in…then James started taking off his clothes. He said we had dinner reservations in 20 minutes so we needed to hustle. I followed him to his closet. The closet was full of suits and dress clothes. With one whole wall full of shiny dress shoes. James had already taken off all his clothes except for his underwear. They were tiny white Calvin Klein briefs. His dick was packed perfectly in the front. He told me to hurry up and take off my clothes, so he could figure out what to give me. I stood there in just my Nike compression shorts. He laughed, and said “that underwear will not work with suits.” He tossed me some underwear. I caught it in my hands. It felt small. As I looked at it…it was an Emporio Amrmani black thong with a gold waistband. I took off my compression shorts, and slid the smooth cotton fabric over my body. They were small, but just the right size. I had never worn a thong before. It felt incredibly sexy. It was tight on my dick, and my ass pinched the back just right. James said “Those fit you perfectly!” I nodded yes. We were both standing there in just our sexy underwear. It was very hot. Then, James picked out a suit for me. It was dark charcoal. He handed it to me, and then handed me a plain white dress shirt. I quickly put on the shirt and then the suit pants. They both fit perfectly. I thought everything would be too big, but it fit just right. James put on a black pin striped suit with a white dress shirt. James then handed me a pair of shiny black dress shoes. I asked for a pair of socks, but he said I didn’t need them. He said “Guys your age look good without dress socks. Its the new trend.” So I put on the shoes. James put on a pair of black leather dress boots. They were so sleek and sexy. We were still feeling rushed to hurry and get to the restaurant. James came up from behind me, and said “I think you should wear a tie.” So, he grabbed one, and then put it around my neck. His face was so close to mine. I could smell the after shave on his face. James tied my tie tight, and then said “I think thats good.” He didn’t wear a tie…his dress shirt was left unbuttoned, and you could see some of his chest. James said “One more thing before we go.” He walked to his bathroom, and said “Which one do you want?” There were at least 10 bottles of cologne on a counter. I had no idea which one would be good…I never wore cologne. Then, James said “I will pick for you.” He grabbed a Versace bottle, and then sprayed at least 8 sprays of cologne all over me…James said “I think you have to smell good all the time. Don’t you?” James picked up a different bottle, and then gave him self a generous amount of cologne. I could start to smell myself, I smelled very strong and masculine…It made my dick hard. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, just as we were about to get in the elevator. I was hot. I looked like a movie star. My hair was perfect, clean shaven face, and tight fitting suit. James looked really good too…As we rode down the elevator I got a bit of an erection. I didn’t want to make things weird. We were just two good looking guys going for dinner as friends. 

    We walked out of the lobby, and a black Bentley was waiting in front of the building. James walked towards it…He then said “Get in man, we are late!” So, I got in another one of his cars. It was very nice and very expensive…I was beginning to think James was very very rich. We talked about the car for a while. Then James said “Mark you look very handsome. I am very proud of myself. I managed to make you look handsome enough to be my date tonight.” I thought date was a weird choice of words…but I said “Thanks! You look really good too James.” He smiled back at me and winked…I was unsure why he winked at me…I think I had a different idea of what was happening.

    We pulled up to the very fancy restaurant. James got out, and then quickly went to my door. James opened my door for me. I was confused, but thought I would just go with it. James reached for my hand. I grabbed it thinking maybe it was a hard car to get out of? James grabbed by hand, and the would not let go of my hand. He then put his arm around my shoulder, and kissed my cheek. He then whispered in my ear “You are mine for the night.” I didn’t move…I had thought about pushing him off me, but I thought that would be a bad idea. So, I just walked next to him. We got to the door, and he said “after you honey.” The hostess said “Hi James welcome back. This must be your boyfriend.” I didn’t know what to do…I just smiled and nodded to the young girl. We followed her to the table, and James’ arm was around my shoulder the whole time walking…I had never been gay out in public like this…I was nervous, and several people were starring at us? I secretly liked it…a lot…I was still confused though? Was James gay? 

    We sat and ate dinner. James kept grabbing my knees under the table, and then my wrists above the table. Constantly touching me…as his way of keeping me from running…little did he know…I was not interested in running…This was sort of a fantasy of mine…James just didn’t realize that. We had a couple glasses of champagne with our dinner. We were talking about random things. School and work. Then, dinner was over, and it was time to leave. 

    James stood up first, and then grabbed my hand. We held hands until we made our way to the front to get back in his Bentley. James opened my car door for me, and let me in. Then, James got in the drivers seat. We were both quiet. Then, James asked me “Are you okay with how things are going?” I didn’t know what to say, and then I said “sure.” He said “You know Mark, I saw the way you were watching me swim, and you would not stop starring at my dick in the showers.” I nodded. James then said “I am in the market for a good sugar boy to be my companion.” I didn’t say anything. James then said “You know, I’m sure you could use the money. Tonight was a test to see if you could look hot enough to be my sugar boy…and you passed. You looked so hot this evening.” I blushed a little. I then said “Thank you for giving me a makeover, and I enjoy spending time with you. I just don’t know what a sugar boy means?” James then said “I will pay you to hang out with me. You are a very handsome man, and if it leads to the bedroom then no big deal, right?” I was nervous…but secretly very excited and horny. I said “Ok.” 

    We made it back to the building, and back inside to the Penthouse. James poured us both some drinks. James left for a few minutes then came back. He was wearing just a short black silk robe. He told me to go change out of my suit and put on the other robe. I got up and walked to the closet. There was another dark grey robe sitting in the middle of the closet. I took off my clothes and put on the robe. It was the sexiest robe ever. It ended in the middle of my thighs. I thought I should be careful, or my dick could hang out. I walked past the bathroom. I walked inside and looked at myself in the mirror. Who was this new Mark? I looked very handsome and sexy. Did I look gay? I didn’t think so, but it definitely was not as “straight looking” as before. I took a couple deep breaths. I didn’t really know what was going to happen, but I think deep down inside I was very happy. As I was about to leave, I saw all the cologne bottles. I thought what the heck? Why not make myself smell good. I picked up the bottle on the end. I opened up my robe, and sprayed some on my chest and all the way down to my dick. It burned for a quick second, then I could start to smell it. It smelled amazing. 

    I walked back to the living room. James was laying on the black leather couch. He then said “Come sit next to daddy.” My dick started to pulse. I sat next to him, not too close though. He then scooted closer to me. He then put his arm around me, and said “did you use some cologne?” I blushed a little. I said “I did…I could not help it…” He was impressed with me. He then kissed me on the cheek. He asked me if I liked that. I replied with “yes.” He then put his hand in my robe, massaging my chest and stomach. My dick started to grow. He leaned over then kissed me on the lips. This was the first time a man had kissed me on the lips…I lost it…My dick was exploding, and I was horny as hell. We were making out, tongues going back and forth. James stopped, and asked me “If I wanted to go to the bedroom.” I paused for a second and then said “yes.” James stood up and took off his robe. His dick was hard. He reached for my hand, and I stood up…He untied my robe for me. My dick was hard too. He held my hand as we walked to his bedroom. 

    We stood at the foot of the bed, and James pushed me down by my shoulders. He said “alright boy, get to work.” I put his huge dick in my mouth. It felt weird. I had never given a blow job before. I started liking it more and more. I felt myself trying to get every inch of the dick in the back of my throat. He grabbed the back of my head and shoved my head into his dick. I gagged a little, but kept going. He then, pulled me up, and kissed me. Then he said “My turn.” He got down, and put his mouth around my dick. It instantly felt amazing. After a couple minutes I thought I was going to cum. I said “I think I might cum.” He stopped, and then said “Not without you getting your hole stretched out. You have to earn that cum.” He tossed me on the bed, and then shoved his dick up my ass. I was not ready, but he just plowed into me. I was screaming in pain, but it started to hurt less and less. After a few minutes It actually started to feel really good. I started begging him to go harder and harder. It was amazing. I had never felt such pleasure and pain before. After 10 minutes of him pounding my ass, he pulled his dick out of my newly loosened hole. He stroked his dick back and forth. Then turned me over on my back. He said “Get ready for it.” His dick was right next to my face. He said “open wide.” I didn’t know what to do, so I just opened my mouth. Seconds later he shot his load into my mouth. It was so hot. It tasted funny. I thought I might gag, so i spit a little out. He then licked that off my face. I swallowed a little bit. He said “your turn.” He started sucking my dick again. I was rock hard, and about to blow. I said “I’m going to cum!” He said “do it!” I shot my load in his mouth. He swallowed every bit of it…or so I thought. He finished sucking me dry. Then kissed me on the lips, spitting some of my cum in to my mouth. I had no choice, but to swallow it. I didn’t really care anymore, I was on such a high from having sex for the first time with a man.

    We sat there on the bed for a few minutes while we caught our breaths. We cleaned ourselves off. Then put our robes back on. 

    After that night I stayed over at his pent house for the rest of my time in Dental school. He payed for some of my school, and spoiled me with many fancy things. We had so many wonderful adventures. I still text James sometimes. He moved on with another sugar boy, but always invites me to go back. I think about it sometimes, but I’m too busy with work right now. Maybe sometime in the future? It was a great relationship full of love, money, and mostly sex. I was a sugar boy. I eventually came out to my friends and family with the help of James. I don’t think I will ever find a man as good as James. 

  • Death to Innocence

    I was alone, isolated from everyone, left to stew in my own juices far too long in the Malibu house. It was quite a shock treatment after the freeing debauchery I’d experienced the past week. Grayson stayed for two nights. But Grayson was no help to me. He was a fat, ugly, old man–completely sexless. If I were to cast a eunuch for one of my parents’ foreign locale fantasy films, I could have done no better than Grayson. I’d been fucked almost nonstop since my eighteenth birthday. And I had loved it. And I had been made to go cold turkey. I could have come down from the high–if it was gradual. I’m sure I could. But cold turkey was making it worse, keying me up. I needed a man between my legs.

    The day in between the two nights I had to lay in bed alone, listening to his hoarse snoring and knowing there wasn’t anything he could do for what I needed–at least Robert would have held me in his arms and rocked me to sleep–Grayson went shopping for enough food for me to fix for myself for the next two weeks and to fetch my airplane ticket for Philadelphia and the instructions for the line of credit that had been set up for me to draw upon. My mother didn’t call; my dad didn’t call. I had no trouble understanding that they were separating from me. No one else knew I was here–no one with muscles and a smile and a hard cock.

    I lay at night, continuing the scene with my dad that my mother had interrupted. Remembering what I had requested of him–being surprised that I had. I had thought I wanted from him what he gave Emilio that last night. But that wasn’t the case, I realized. That’s what I wanted from Charles Tilton. I wanted tenderness from my dad. I wanted him to pick me up from the couch and carry me up the stairs and to one of the guest rooms–not to his room, where he and Gordon slept, or to my mother’s room, where she and Magda had made love. And not to my room either. But to one of the guest rooms, with no memories other than those that my dad and I would build. And then I wanted him to lay me on the bed on my back, take a pillow and put it under the small of my back, raising my channel to him–like I’d seen in a video of his, not like what the hunks had been doing to me for days, attacking me like animals in heat, not being able to fuck me hard and fast–and often–enough.

    Then I wanted him to go down between my legs with his head and make love to my entrance with his lips and tongue until I moaned and begged for him. And then kneeling between my legs, never taking his eyes off mine, slowly, ever so slowly, entering me and entering and entering and entering, holding there, deep inside me, his eyes telling me of what a special experience it was for him, as it was for me. Holding–until I begged. And then starting a slow pump as I writhed under him and cried out for completion. Filling me with his love and his essence.

    Sweating, having brought myself to a troubled, release, I flopped back on the bed and moaned. I thought it unfair. It wasn’t my fault–well, not wholly. At least not completely.

    There was no indication that my mother had split from my dad either. I had Grayson set up newspaper delivery for me–and I did so solely to peruse the entertainment section for any hint of a break between Scott Sloan and Laura Lake. All I found were reports of the crew for the movie-in-the-making High Timber departing for northern California, for Eureka. The actors and the producer, Theo Kline. No mention was made of Charles Tilton in the earlier reports. And then, days later, I saw a brief mention of Rex Barnard as the director of the film. Just the one, though, and that always could have just been a one-off mistake in reporting, I thought. One of the reports said the Scott Sloan’s wife, Laura Lake had gone up the coast as well.

    Neither one of them contacted me about that; I had to read it in the newspaper.

    I did receive another telephone call. It was from Theo Kline’s office. On behalf of Kline, one of his secretaries thanked me for assisting him for a brief time on setting up the organization for the movie. He had a new assistant now, though, and he knew I would be entering a university back East for the fall session. A check for $5,000 would be in the mail. She didn’t flinch at naming the amount. I’d put in less than a week of work on that job. No doubt, though, she was well versed in how Hollywood worked. I was the son of two major actors. Favors were done, palms were greased. She saw the $5,000 as a typical good-will gift signaled to my parents. I saw it as the cost of my virginity. I’d only been given the job so Kline could maneuver me into the mountains and be the first one to get his cock inside me. I was truly a whore now. I’d given it up for $5,000. I wondered what the going rate for it was in Hollywood.

    I didn’t resent that, though. It was probably a sign of the weird value system I’d been raised to, but I appreciated the work Kline had put into being the first one inside me. In some ways he’d been more of a dad to me than my dad was. He–along with Robert, of course–had been the only one who actually spent time trying to find out who I was, what I wanted to become.

    It didn’t bother me in the least that Theo had done this or claimed his “first” prize. If I didn’t shrink from the thought of my dad fucking me, why would it bother me that Theo did? He had taken me out on the ocean several times on his yacht, the Final Curtain, as I was growing up. And although while we chatted during these outings he was quick to tell me that there was a place for me in motion pictures if I wanted it, he spent some time and effort asking me what I wanted to be.

    I remember, no doubt being influenced by a movie my parents had just made, telling him once that I thought I’d like to be a police detective. Theo had a collection of Ellery Queen magazines on his yacht, and, impressionable lad that we all are at that age, I had been mesmerized about the prospect of being a detective. When I’d said that to my dad, he had laughed. Theo didn’t laugh. He just told me that there were no bad jobs–just people who couldn’t do jobs needing done very well. He looked hard–in a playful, grandfatherly way–at me then and told me he thought I’d make a splendid detective. And I never forgot that.

    The shock of moving from an orgy to isolation had the unfortunate–or fortunate maybe, who can say for sure–effect of making me think over the events of the past couple of weeks.

    Robert had been right about me–so right. All of the things he said would be set loose inside me when I turned eighteen and gave vent to my natural desires and frustrations had come to pass. He’d also told me not to fight it–to enjoy it to the extent I could–but to try to start learning to protect myself. I had to think about that. I didn’t think I’d done too well about protecting myself yet. But it was so hard. Obviously my mother and even my dad had been pushed over the edge when my dad had finally come to me. I would have to think about that. Apparently there were some limits that I hadn’t been taught–that I should think about and start developing.

    But I was still the innocent. And I remembered what Robert said about that too. That I’d be the innocent until I begged for it. That not fighting what other men wanted, going ahead and letting them take it, wasn’t marked against my innocence. It would be when I went to them–and begged them for it–begged them for what I knew would be degrading.

    Thinking about such things was really too much for me at this age, and if I hadn’t been left all alone, in a stark switch of activity, I wouldn’t have thought even that deeply. And thinking that deeply started developing the doubt in my mind. The doubt was about Robert. It was Robert who had me thinking about the state of my innocence, and, at length, my thoughts turned to focusing on Robert.

    How could he have murdered Emilio? Robert wasn’t like that. My dad was the last one I knew to have been with Emilio, and he was beating Emilio. And there was the figure in the corridor that night. A man or a woman? I couldn’t remember which–if I’d ever known. And there was something else, something that had prompted me to leave my bed in the first place. But what was it? I couldn’t remember. I remembered calling out Robert’s name, but that’s only because the person could only logically have been Robert–or Efenia. Only Efenia had a room in the house, though. Robert’s cottage was on the other side of the pool. But Efenia wasn’t that tall–or slim. It was someone else, I was sure of that.

    And jealousy. What jealousy? Emilio was a bottom–I never saw him topping anyone. He was always the one being fucked. And Robert. That had been our problem, the two of us–why we’d never made love. Robert said we were both exclusive bottoms. I just didn’t know. I didn’t know enough about these matters.

    Wanting to clear my brain to take another cut at the logic of it all, I stood and went out to the balcony overlooking the ocean.

    The kiters were out, flying their fancy-structured, many-colored kites along the beach, taking advantage of and using the breezes coming off the water to make their kites dance high in the air.

    They looked so free and elegant. I loved watching them. I wanted to be free like that–to dance on the breeze like that.

    One of the kites went off balance and careened down to the sand up the coast from the house. My eyes followed the line of descent.

    I never saw the kite hit the ground, though, because I first saw him. Slouching against his car on the road above the sand dunes, dressed just in shorts, loafers, and sunglasses. Just standing there, looking at me. Bad boy incarnate. The forbidden enticement every parent warned their child to beware.

    Charles Tilton.

    He didn’t gesture. He didn’t have to now. The isolation had been too much for me. I descended the deck steps and started to walk toward him–and then to run, feet digging in, pounding on the sand, stumbling as I lost my footing, but rising right back up and recklessly running on.

    He stopped the car ten miles up the coast toward Ventura on the Pacific Coast highway, turning away from the beach into an isolated picnic area, deserted on this weekday. He parked the car as far inland as possible, the trunk pointed away from the ocean. He roughly pulled me out of the front seat of the car and around to the trunk and slammed me down on my back on the trunk and jerked my shorts down.

    He fucked me hard and long and deep there, each thrust moving my bare back on the sun-baked surface of the trunk. Seven, eight, nine. He didn’t stop. He kept pumping. I had held my breath until he reached eleven strokes, afraid he’d tease me again and pull out. But he didn’t. He kept on fucking. And my spirit flew up into the air and floated like a kite on the beach. He lowered his teeth to my nipples and punished me. I gasped and groaned and moaned and loved every deep stroke of it.

    I came fairly quickly. He didn’t.

    After arousing me for a second time, he pulled out of me and I slid, exhausted, off the trunk and into a heap on the hot pavement. I begged him to continue fucking me. He laughed.

    Tilton opened the trunk then and took out a car blanket. He walked away from me, into the verge of some spindly-trunked trees gasping for life in the salty ocean breezes, opened the blanket out on the ground, and laid down on his back, his erection still reaching ambitiously for the sun.

    Then he just stared at me. After a moment, I walked over to the blanket, straddled his hips with my knees, positioned his cock head at my entrance–and fucked him to his completion. Doing it all myself. One more step away from innocence.

    He said nothing as we drove up the coast toward Ventura.

    I, though, couldn’t get enough of him. I asked him to pull into another picnic area and fuck me again, but he just laughed. Then I begged him, reaching for his cock as he drove and trying to take it in my mouth, but he roughly pushed me away, into the corner of the seat and kept on driving.

    When we reached his beach house, he dragged me up the steps and into the house and pushed me into the cushions of a couch. He went into the kitchen and took a beer from the fridge and popped the top. Turning, he leaned against the kitchen counter, took a deep swig, and then stared at me, holding the beer poised in his hand, half way between counter and his mouth. He was wearing a sneery smile. A victor’s smile.

    I stood up from the couch and started to roam around, checking out the layout of the beach house. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were on the upper level, where the best view of the ocean was, with two bedrooms and two baths below. Everything was tastefully and expensively furnished–at least until I got to the room on the road side of the downstairs, which must have been the second bedroom. The room was bare of recognizable furniture. The floors and walls and even the ceiling were covered in thick carpeting, in black. I don’t know why I knew, but I did know that it was for sound proofing. The two windows were shuttered tight.

    I stood in the doorway, trying to figure the furnishing of the room out. It was very much out of synch with the rest of the house. There was a sling of shiny black leather suspended from the ceiling by chains in one corner. And, in the center was a vinyl cube-like thing. Wide strips of heavy-duty webbed material were attached to the four corners at the bottom and straps hung down from the upper corners as well. There was a closet, with folding doors, which were half open. I walked over to the closet and folded the doors out. The back wall of the closet was a Masonite board with attachments on it holding a panoply of sex gadgets and toys–whips and restraints and leg separators and dildoes and balls on strings–all things I’d seen in my dad’s stash of magazines and had fantasized about. At the corners of the rooms were stands with video cameras on them, backed by other stands with studio lighting dishes on them. Wires ran from these back to the corner of the cube, wires with clickers on the end.

    I felt him behind me, close behind me, chest touching my back, knees touching the back of my thighs, a powerful cock rubbing on my back. He was naked. His arms came around me and he was palming one nipple and my belly with his hands.

    “Come into the other bedroom.” He whispered to me.

    “What do you do in here?” I asked.

    “What do I do? I do my special guests in here. You aren’t ready for this. Come into the other bedroom.”

    “Please, I want to know. I want to know it all,” I said.

    “You have no patience,” he said. And then he laughed.

    “Please, I beg you,” I whimpered. And then I turned and went down on my knees and rubbed my cheek on his dick.

    “Oh, very well . . . since you begged,” he said.

    And then he gathered me up in his arms and carried me over to the vinyl cube and pushed me down on it on my belly. My wrists and ankles were bound to the restraints at the bottom corners, and he was behind me, hunched over me.

    “You want it, boy, you got it. We begin.” I was blinded by the studio lights when they flashed on, and I heard the whirring of the video cameras start. I heard him laugh and then I felt the coldness of the beer bottle at my entrance. He worked the neck of it into my ass, tipping it over until beer flowed down inside me and around the neck of the bottle and down the insides of my thighs.

    I cried out and then whimpered as he began to slow pump me with the neck of cold beer bottle.

    “Had enough? Want to go home?” he asked in a gruff voice. And then that deep-throated laugh again when I whispered no, that I wanted to stay.

    He pulled the beer bottle out of my channel and then he grabbed my hair in one fist and arched me back sharply while slamming his cock deeply into my ass and making me cry out in pain, surprise, and passion.

    I didn’t care. I begged him not to stop–ever. And he didn’t for nearly a week.

    * * * *

    One Sunday morning, three weeks after I started at Penn State–having already declared that I wanted to study toward a criminal investigation degree–I heard a tentative knock at the door of my small, off-campus apartment.

    I rose from the bed, trying not to disturb the football player deep in sleep from the exertions I’d put him through. He snorted, but didn’t awake, just rolled over and embraced a pillow and moved his pelvis in a motion that had become a habit in the night. I quickly and silently pulled on jeans and T-shirt and padded out into the living room in my bare feet, closing the bedroom door gently behind me.

    I opened the door to two serious-faced men in well-pressed black suits standing patiently in the outer hall, probably hoping that no one was home.

    My dad’s Bentley had careened off the Pacific Highway between Ventura and Malibu and down onto the rocks at the edge of the surf in the early hours of the morning. Indications were that my mother was driving and that the car had left the pavement at high speed. They had both died instantly. Magda Nadar was organizing the memorial service. It would be a major Hollywood event.

    I knew my dad and mother would have liked that.

    I was truly all alone in the world now–and now completely dead to innocence.

    Numb after the two black suits left, I padded back into the bedroom and rolled the football player over onto his back. He was hard, in the throes of a wet dream, and muttering dirty words to himself. I’d picked him because he was one big muscle of glistening dark chocolate, could go ten thick inches, and for the tattoos. I mounted him, easily slid down his pole, and began slowly to ride his cock. He didn’t fully waken, but he responded naturally, encasing my waist with his big hands and helping to raise and lower me on his staff. I lowered my lips to his chest and traced the lines of the tattoo there with my tongue. Then, I moved my face to the hollow of his neck, the tears from my eyes rolling down his neck onto his tattoo, while I rode and rode and rode. The only way I could think of to combat this numbness I felt.

    (Note that the saga continues with the forthcoming Death in Manhattan, which finds Clint a police detective in the NYPD.)


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


  • Mr. Maleficent presents… Sexual Deviance (Series 2)

    I met Dizzy Robinson not long after his arrival. He arrived in the middle of a group session. A meth addict was reliving the story of how she would get high to avoid her abusive husband when he walked in. He hadn’t been in the facility for more than 5 minutes, but because of his timing, they immediately made him sit in on Group. I didn’t recognize him, I’d never been much for a football. I just knew that he was tall and had the smoothest and most even shade of dark skin. He might’ve been about 6’4 and approximately 260 lbs. The guy was very buff, he was on the defensive line so he had a true football players build.

    Dizzy left his two duffel bags at the check so they could go through it and make sure he didn’t bring any substances with him. Meanwhile, one of the counselors guided him over to our group. He remained guarded. He looked around the group several times and locked eyes with me more than once. He nodded to me as if to say “Wassup” without actually saying it. I nodded back to him. There was already something we had in common. Any black person can tell you that when you’re in a room full of black people, you could probably ignore each other, but when you’re the only two black people in a room full of other people that don’t look like you, you tend to make a point of acknowledging each other. In that moment, I already felt closer to him than anybody else in this room and I could bet he felt the same. Would we end on this note? Probably not. One of the older gentlemen in Group was an alcoholic and a huge football fan. He recognized Dizzy before he even took his sunglasses off.

    Roy, one of the counselors took the time to introduce Dizzy to the group.

    “This is Dale Robinson. You guys may know him as Dizzy Robinson from the New York Giants, but in here, he will be referred to as Dale Robinson,” Roy started the introduction.

    Dizzy sucked his teeth.

    “As part of the Sunpoint Drug and Alcohol treatment center, it’s our duty to get to know Dale Robinson, not ‘Dizzy’. We want to get in touch with the you that is inside- the you that is hiding behind this persona. This alter-ego that you’ve created has left Dale spiraling out of control and we’re happy that Dale has come here to regain control of his life,” Roy began to lead the group in a sympathetic applause until that applause was cut short by a snide remark from Dizzy.

    “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said, looking around the group once again.

    The claps quickly came to an end.

    “Ex-Excuse me?” Roy said.

    “You heard me, nigga. You ain’t known me for 10 minutes, but you wanna act like I’m a fuckin’ schitzo case or something? Ain’t no Dale and Dizzy… it’s the same motherfuckin’ person.”

    “You may think so-“

    “I know so.”

    “Ok, Dizzy or Dale- I can tell that there’s a scared little boy somewhere inside of you who reacts the way he reacts because he’s too afraid to face himself.”

    “Sheeeeeit…” Dizzy said.

    I smirked, almost chuckling. Roy could see the expression on my face and wasn’t very pleased about it.

    “Joe?” Roy said.

    “Huh?” I looked up.

    “Is something funny?”

    I could tell Roy was upset, and when I looked at Dizzy, I could tell he was thinking that I’d better be on his side.

    “No… it’s just, he’s saying everything that I said a week and a half ago.”

    “And what’s that, Joe?”

    “That this is bullshit.”

    “If it’s such ‘bullshit’ then why don’t you sign yourself out? Oh right, you can’t because if you don’t complete your stay, your family is going to cut you off financially. And you?” Roy turned back to Dizzy. “Your wife will leave you. Maybe you two can’t see the benefits in this yet because you haven’t hit rock bottom like some of the rest of us in here. Gina’s had her children taken away from her, Monty has lived on the streets. You two have had things given to you… and now you’re here. And we’re all here to save you from smacking right into that rockbottom that won’t be easy to return from.”

    “You don’t give a fuck nigga,” Dizzy chimed back in. “And you keep talking about this ‘us’ shit. Nigga you just here to get paid, right?”

    “I’m here because I care about the mission. I hit my rock-bottom. I got so high on drugs that I took a dare that would’ve killed me. And I’ve come back from that. I want to see you, all of you, reverse direction before you even hit that point.”

    “Yeah yeah yeah…” Dizzy said. “Yo, is this shit over? Cuz somebody need to show me to my room.”

    “I’m going to breakthrough to you Dale. And even if I don’t, someone will and you will thank us.” Roy backed off of Dizzy and officially ended the meeting. Everyone left.

    I had a good feeling that Dizzy was going to be my new roommate. Not because of our connect during the meeting, but because my former roommate left just yesterday and I knew this place wasn’t going to let me have anything I wanted. I wanted to be alone, and just when I thought I would be, it was taken from me.

    I was in my room reading The Firm by John Grisham when another one of the counselors, this time a female stopped by. She knocked, but only to grab my attention. She immediately walked in and showed Dizzy to his bed on the opposite side of the room.

    “Hey Joe,” she said.

    “Hey Miriam,” I returned.

    “I hear that you guys have already met, but I’ll formally introduce you. Joe, this is Dale Robinson. Dale, this is Joe Butler, your new roommate.”

    Dizzy looked upset… not as much upset with me, but more upset with the fact that he had to share a room and how small the quarters were.

    “A twin bed,” he said. “A twin fucking bed…”

    “Yes,” Miriam said. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Later on we’ll brief you on the schedule but dinner is served at 5. If you’re late, you don’t eat.”

    Miriam then walked away and left Dizzy in the room alone with me. He sucked his teeth again.

    “…can’t believe this shit,” he mumbled.

    I returned to reading my book, not paying him any mind. I was def no dick rider, and damn sure wasn’t gonna be one to a nigga I’d never even heard of.

    “Wassup dawg?” Dizzy said.

    “Everything is everything, my nigga,” I returned.

    “Shit, I feel you.”

    The room and the conversation got stale real quick. As I was reading, Dizzy started unpacking his belongings. He put some clothes that he’d folded into his chest drawers that were on his side of the room. After that, he pulled out some pictures of his family and spread them around the room. His wife was beautiful… she was extremely beautiful. He set one on his side of the nightstand that was between both of our beds and he’d put a few on top of his chest.

    “Yo, you mind if I shut this door for a second?” Dizzy asked.

    “Nah, I don’t,” still not paying him any attention at all.

    Dizzy walked to the door, shut it and walked back to the little shrine that he’d built to his beautiful wife. I heard something that sounded like a zipper unzip, and I figured he was about to change clothes. I respected the niggas privacy. Though I was dying to see what he looked like under his clothes, I decided not to. I kept my head buried in my novel and didn’t look up or in his direction at all; I didn’t even try to sneak a peek through the corner of my eye.

    However, I never heard this nigga’s pants come down. His weight never moved or anything at all. In fact, instead, I was hearing another sound. It was a gentle but rapid smacking sound. I knew what it sounded like… but…No. He couldn’t be… is he?

    I broke my promise and peeked at Dizzy. He had his back toward me and he was facing the corner where the chest was and looking at the pictures of his wife. Meanwhile his buff right arm was shaking. He was! This nigga was jacking off. Hadn’t been in the facility for much more than an hour, yet he was beating his meat, no more than 25 feet away from me. Whatever addictions he had going on, I knew that Sex had to be one of them.

    Through the back of his jeans, I could see his buttocks tighten like he was turning coal into a diamond. He let out a mild and contained grunt which was immediately followed by an exhale and a hum. He’d came. He turned his head to look back at me… I immediately put my head back into the book I was reading. There was no mistaking what had just happened. And he knew that I knew what he was just doing.

    Dizzy readjusted himself, placing his dick back into his pants and zipping. He wiped the gizz from his hand onto a rag that he had stashed in his duffel. He put the rag back into his bag and reopened the door. From there, he lied on his twin bed and took a nap until it was dinner time.

    Dizzy kept to himself throughout the rest of the day. He didn’t speak to anyone really. The football fan tried to talk to him, but after being so standoffish, the guy took the hint and allowed him to eat dinner in silence. After dinner, the counselors pulled him so they could show him his bathroom detail duties. He was assembled to a team that had to scrub and wash every part of the public bathrooms twice a day. Everyone in the rehab center had chores, but I had a feeling he got stationed on the bathrooms because of his celebrity. This center was very big on trying to humble its inhabitants. By nightfall, the big buff Dizzy Robinson was exhausted, you could see it in his eyes.

    Lights turned out every night at 10pm. One thing I’d learned is that when the lights turn out, it was best to head on to sleep because when the lights turned on, they expected everyone to be up and ready to get started. I had a little restlessness, something that always happens when my subconscious is uncomfortable. Typically my subconscious becomes leery when I’m sleeping in a new place or sleeping in a new environment. I’d become used to the rehab center by now, the only new thing in my environment was the football player.

    Dizzy battled restlessness too. His might’ve been related to him being in a brand new environment, but I could’ve bet that it had a lot more to do with the fact that he didn’t have alcohol or cocaine pumping adrenaline through his system. He was having the sweats and somewhat of a panic attack. He needed to relax his jittery nerves. He couldn’t make himself a drink or snort a line to self-medicate like he sometimes would when he began to feel like this. He turned to the only other way he knew.

    Deep in the dark of night, Dizzy reached into his boxer shorts in an attempt to console himself. Underneath the cheap cotton blankets, he dry stroked his dick. He played with the flaccid appendage until the play session was able to make him stand at attention. Dizzy thought back on his wife’s sexuality; how big her breasts were and how her ass had a shape that would put a Georgia peach to shame. He stroked, each stroke making a rustling sound in the quiet room. He wasn’t cumming quick enough so he moved onto other fantasies.

    Next, he thought of random groupies he’d slept with when on the road. At one point he got 3 women to agree to a foursome with him. He had sex with all three for hours, making sure that he came in each one of them. He thought back on that night and how he, the big buff black football player defiled 3 white college teens that worshipped his “cock” and were happy to drink his “jizz.” He could almost hear their moans, he could almost taste all three of their tight pink pussies. But this thought too, became redundant. Before he knew it, he peeped at the clock and he’d been jacking off for near 45 minutes. His dick was beginning to get tender from the dry jack and the strength of his grip yanking on it.

    I’d tossed and turned in the bed aside from him, not able to get to sleep. Dizzy’s jacking probably wouldn’t disturb me if I’d already been asleep but it was enough to keep me from dozing off. I tossed again, so now my face was facing his bed. There’d been a significant change since the last time that I’d tossed and faced him, some 10 or 15 minutes before. The big difference was that Dizzy wasn’t jacking under his covers. Through my adjusted night vision eyes, I could see that he’d pulled that blanket back and was stroking this huge dick that had to be standing 12 inches high.

    I salivated at the sight. I’d never seen a dick that big in person, on pornos, yes, but never in person. The few guys that I’ve dated were never that big. Hell, I wasn’t even that big. Watching him stroke, pretending to be sleep, I felt my own dick hardening. What I would do to be able to put my lips around that thing…

    Meanwhile, Dizzy kept shuffling freaky thoughts. He’d juggled many other groupies in his head since before, he’d even juggled movie stars, fashion models and pop singers. Hell, he’d even thought about Gina, who’d been in our Group meeting. No fantasy was working for him. He’d cum probably 4 or 5 times today, so it was safe to assume that he’d beat his dick into an unresponsive state.

    I watched Dizzy’s head tilted upward toward the ceiling as his huge arm beat his dick hard, and then took a break and went back to jacking off just as hard. Dizzy’s dick only had a little precum, but for the most part, he was dried up. And though I couldn’t see, I was sure that Dizzy’s eyes were closed as he was trying to dig deep into his fantasy. I was lusting after his dick, lusting too hard. I wanted to suck it, and suck it badly. I wanted to nurse on it for as long as he would need me to… but Dizzy was a big guy. If I made the wrong move he’d bust me upside my shit. I didn’t want that to happen.

    I began to rationalize things… wondering how I could get that monster in my mouth. I thought that I could ask him… but that wouldn’t go over well. Even if he secretly wanted me to, he would most likely tell me no. Straight or “Straight-acting” guys just don’t admit to wanting another guy to down on them, so asking permission was out of the question. My best bet would be to quietly make my way over there and pray I don’t get killed in the process of trying to cram his dick into my throat.

    I slid off my bed as quietly as possible. Dizzy heard some kind of movement, because he paused jacking it for a second, but he kicked it right back up. I crawled over to his bed being careful not to make a sound. I crept up, slowly lifting my body up on my knees. I was so close to him, closer than I was expecting to get. I was close enough that if I took a deep breath, he’d feel it. I looked up at his face, and just as I thought, his eyes were closed. I turned my head back to his dick, a magnificently standing piece of meat. His dickhead was thick and throbbing.

    Dizzy’s arm took another rest, I ducked back down under the bed thinking that he must’ve seen me and that’s why he stopped. But he didn’t. His arm was just getting tense like he was lifting weights in the gym or something. I peeked up from his bed again, and now I was seeing the monster in full, without his hand wrapped around the base of it. It was huge… so huge… I wanted it. I’d come this far, so it was time to make the big dive. His hand was coming up for his dick again. I knew I had to put it in before his hand landed.

    I leaned over his big body and thrust my face down into it, his big dick creating a deep ditch into my mouth. His big dick slid to the back of my mouth with half of it still sticking out. I reversed, coming back up from his dick, my lubricated mouth leaving saliva coats as traces for where my mouth had been. As I was coming up, I heard Dizzy moan. Good sign, at least he wasn’t hitting me in the face. When his dick evacuated my mouth, I turned my head back to his head. He was looking down at me, but I couldn’t discern the look on his face. Luckily, I didn’t have to.

    “Yo, keep suckin,” he said.

    I grabbed a fistful of his dick and lifted it to make it point at my mouth. His dick was madd heavy. I could literally imagine him beating someone with it like a nightstick. I jacked it a few times with it right in front of my face. I stuck my tongue out to lick the tip of it, working my tongue over the big guy’s piss slit. I worked my tongue around that big ass mushroom tip twice before I finally puckered my lips to kiss the tip of his dick.

    Dizzy moaned breathlessly,

    My lips slowly opened back up and began to grant his huge dick its access, when he decided that I wasn’t moving quickly enough. His tip hadn’t even made it all the way into my mouth when His big hand began pushing on the back of my head to push me down.

    He moaned again, this time in a tone of voice more aggressive than before. “Ah shit,” he said.

    Dizzy released his hold on my head. He brought his hands back up. He lifted his shirt just above his chest and began to play with both of his nipples. I don’t know when they got hard, but they were standing at attention and Dizzy gave them what they wanted. He flicked both of them back and forth moaning and grunting away.

    I could taste the glaze of Dizzy’s precum- the taste ranging between salty and bitter. As displeasing as the flavor was, I was still ecstatic about having the opportunity to deepthroat the sex addict’s huge dick.

    “You like the taste a big dick, don’t you?” he asked. “It feels good in that mouth, don’t it?”

    I bobbed my head up and down his dick, gaining pleasure from letting him enter me. I pulled his dick out of my mouth and began kissing it, worshipping it. I kissed the tip and worked my mouth all the way down, lying kisses on every inch from the tip to the base of his nuts and all the way back to that tip.

    “Mmmmm…” Dizzy let out this smooth purr of passion.

    I continued kissing Dizzy’s body. I moved up from Dizzy’s dick and began kissing his lower abdomen. I kissed along the small hairy trail from his pubes to his belly button. I continued elevating my kisses to his chest. I pushed his elbow out of the way so he could no longer play with that left nipple and I dove for it, kissing and sucking on the perfectly shaped knob that lied in the bottom-center of his left chestplate.

    Dizzy grabbed my head with his big hands, pushing me down on his nipple while he felt my tongue wash his nipple clean by whirling around it. He hissed and moaned, completely captivated by the sensation he was feeling. His nipples were extremely sensitive.

    “Mmmm baby… bite that nipple, baby,” he said.

    I did as he asked. I bit it gently clenching it between my teeth.

    “Oooh shit,” he said, caressing my head and my neck. “You feel so good.”

    I flicked my tongue over the part of his nipple that was inside my mouth as I was biting it. He got an even bigger sensation from that. Dizzy melted, whimpering at my tastebuds lapping over his man tit until he gave me a new set of marching orders.

    “Ah, pull my boxers off and get back to sucking my dick,” he said.

    I followed this order as well, my teeth released from his nipple and I moved toward the foot of his bed. Dizzy kicked the rest of the covers off of his legs so they could be free. After he did, I reached for his boxers with both of my hands and pulled them down to his calves to his ankles until they finally released from his feet. He grunted once again when they finally came off.

    From there Dizzy didn’t relax his legs back into the passive position they were in before. Instead, he had his feet firmly planted on the mattress, his legs bent at the knee and spread eagle with his dick pointing up toward the sky. Dizzy sat up somewhat, resting on his elbows as he looked at me.

    “Unh… come on, come suck my dick,” he said before lying back down.

    I got onto his bed, and buried my head in between his legs. His huge muscular legs closed in and tightened on both sides of my head like he was trying to crush my head with his thighs. His hand grabbed the back of my head and pushed it as far down as it could possibly go with no regard for my health. I was gagging, my air passage completely cut off and he was steadily trying to push more of him into me.

    “Ughhh… yeah boy, suck that fuckin’ dick, suck that motherfuckin’ dick.”

    My gag reflex was stressed and before I knew it, my saliva glands were mass producing a spit that coated his throbbing manhood. He hissed before releasing his grip on my head and allowing me to come up for air. I took deep breaths, gasping for any ounce of oxygen that was around me. While I was trying to catch my breath, he grabbed his dick with his hand and massaged it, getting wet globs of my spit on his hands.

    “You need a break?” he asked.

    “Yea,” I said in between breaths.

    “No you don’t,” he said, before slapping me gently on the face with his wet hand.

    He then grabbed my head and pushed it back on his dick. He didn’t push it all the way down this time though. He simply pushed it down far enough that his dick was lodged back into my mouth. Instead of relying on me to suck his dick, he used the force from his hips to buck upward and push his dick into my mouth. His dick slid to the back of my mouth and returned repeatedly. He was now in full face-fucking mode. His hands were back at his nips, twirling the centers of his chest and his saliva coated dick was sliding in and out of my mouth at the force of his huge legs and hips.

    “Ah, there you go, nigga. There-you-fuckin’-go!”

    His dick jolted while it was lodged in my mouth, I felt it spring. Dizzy was close to cumming. My mind got all fucked up because I knew that at any second now, I’d be feeling shots of his cum spurting into my mouth.

    “You ready for that shit lil’ nigga? You ready to eat a load?”

    “Mmmhmm,” I moaned.

    “Say it again,” he told me. “You ready?”

    “Mmhmm,” I reiterated.

    Dizzy’s legs thrust one last time until they locked in position and set the train in motion.

    “Aggghhh,” he grunted loudly. “Fuck!”

    His dick began to ooze a couple droplets of cum. Only about enough to fill a miniature test tube. For the way he belted, I expected more but the taste was still delectable while it lasted. His warm salty flavored babies oozed out the tip of his dick and while his knees were retracting from their stiff positioning, I made sure my face followed him back to the bed. I lapped over the head of his dick, licking over it repeatedly to make sure I got every little sperm cell left. I swallowed his man juice without hesitation.


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  • The Escapee


    The Escapee
    Chapter 3

    I sat there, locked in that feeling again, being able to hear everything and nothing at the same time. I had to move, to get out, something was coming for me, trying to delay my mission, and I couldn’t stand it. A branch snapped, a twig broke, and searing heat met my flesh. Almost going into shock I was met with another memory; I saw a beautiful woman, this woman has cream skin, dark brown eyes and lank brown hair, she has wide eyes, a broad nose and a pointed chin. But as soon as I was acclimating to her features, the memory was stripped away from me, leaving me bare and raw. As the fire traveled up my body I couldn’t move, I was hopeless. The fire playfully licked at my face, and I noticed that it wasn’t burning me now. I didn’t know its’ purpose why it was there, I didn’t really want to understand it at all. The experience was taken from me as I was doused by something. I looked around, though I could only look up. I assumed it was a person and I was then apprehensive, could it be the man coming to find me and kill me?

    “Hey!” a voice shouted, coming closer, “Are you okay sir?”

    As the last word left his mouth I could finally move again, and I looked up at the boy who towered over me.

    “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I said still freezing.

    I looked up at the boy and his facial expression changed, it looked like he saw a ghost.

    “Kimani?” The boy said cautiously

    “Yes? Who are you?” It seemed like to me I was going to have to deal with this from now on.

    The boy couldn’t speak or move, he didn’t know how he should feel.

    “I am Amarion Osei, we used to be in the same classes…” he rambled on

    “Yeah I get it, um, sorry to ask you this but could you take me home? I don’t know which way to go and you seem very helpful” I asked Amarion

    “Sure, Um you don’t by any chance have an address do you?” Amarion seemed flustered

    “I do, here” I said as he gave me another confused look as I handed him the phone I climbed into his car.

    ***

    “Oh everyone will love that you’re back Kimani, theres been non-stop talk about you in school, though many people think you were kidnapped and killed.” Amarion said with remorse

    “No thats fine, I don’t know where I am anyway. Speaking of which, where are we?” I wondered

    “Oh, we’re up in Exeter, New Hampshire, you used to go to school here. Not like you would remember but anyway,” He said in a more pressing tone “How exactly did you get an iPhone?”

    “A man in a cottage not too far from where you found me gave me it, ironically he kicked me out later. Would you perhaps know him?”

    “No sorry, I didn’t think anyone would live in those woods.”

    “Why?”

    “Nothing more than an old wives tale, but everyone here believes it.”

    “What is it?”

    “A man, not long ago, set out to find his one true peace, except he wanted to burrow himself into a woman and have children. Having the worst luck in all the world he settled here in Exeter. The women were kind to him, because rumor has it that he was as rich as a gold-monger. This man no one knew his name, finally settled down with a woman, and nine months later had kids,” Amarion looked at me again, “You’re bored out of his mind of this story aren’t you?”

    “No, no I’m fine. Keep going” I pressed him

    “Well anyways, six months after his kids were born, a vicious wolf came and slaughtered them all, leaving the man to himself. The man vowed to kill anyone who stepped foot in those woods, and no one’s seen him ever since.” Amarion left a morbid tone.

    “Wow – That’s – I have no words,”

    The car came to a murderous stop, and I looked out the window to see a massive castle. I was left in awe. I felt as if there was more than meets the eye inside. I wondered what waited for me. I wondered if they’d accept me back. I couldn’t deal with these emotions.

    “Um – perhaps you can get us inside?” I asked wanting to jump out the car and go for myself if he would not.

    “No sorry, but you should be able to, just remember my name okay?” He exclaimed

    “Sure – I’ll catch see you later?”Kimani asked questionably

    “I’ll make sure of it,” Amarion agreed

    As Amarion became microscopic in the sun, I looked back at the house wondering how he was supposed to get in.

    ***

    I wandered around for some time, because now it was dark. I had tried every way possible that I could think of, I finally gave up sitting down because my hopes were futile. Out of the corner of my eye a car came up. It blinded me and I covered my face with my hand. I could feel the light switch off and the sound of a door closing. I stood up, but fainted, weak from having no food for some time.

    •••

    You keep going further and further away! Come Back!

    I fear I won’t be able to hold them for so long.

    My strength wanes.

    •••

    I did not know the time when I woke up next. I was in a large bed, larger than the one from the man’s house. I tried to move but couldn’t, my body was so weak, my voice so raspy. No one could hear me. I laid there in suspended animation. My panic and anxiety soon rose, did they drug me? My answers would be soon heard as the door opened, and the woman that I saw from  the vision entered. She sat at the edge of my bed. A man entered next and sat at the other edge. It took me a while, but I saw him.

     The man has quite distinct features. Aside from his dark chocolate skin, he had weary, light colored eyes. His tall physique made up for his bald head. His nose is big, oddly shaped, and his chin is flat.

    “Son… where have you been?” This man asked me in a low tone
    
I wondered wether to tell him the truth or not. I lied. “I don’t know, I don’t remember you, either of you, I don’t remember this house, my life anything. It’s all gone.” I faltered, I didn’t mean to say all of that.

    They looked shocked, whom I assumed to be my parents. But they quickly adjusted their expressions and looked at me in a Mr. Rogers way. I didn’t even know where I heard Mr. Rogers from.

    “It’s okay, we’re here for you, the Academy will be so exited that you’re back. The whole school has been missing their most famous player.” He said again

    “Who are you? Who am I?” I didn’t know why I felt so calm with them. I just met them ten seconds ago.

    “You, young man, are Kimani Taj Azikiwe,” He paused for a second, “Me and your mother are Chad and Melissa, you have 2 sisters, Ife and Bemi, they both go by their middle names Catherine and Samantha. You go to Phillips Academy, which is popularly called Exeter Academy. Now our turn, how did you get here?”
    “I woke up in something cold and white. A man found me and fed me until he kicked me out but gave me your address,” I answered and looked on as my “parents” looked generally concerned for me, I wondered what was going on. “Something Wrong?”

    “Did he touch you? In places you didn’t want him to touch? You don’t have to be scared you’re protected now.” My mother questioned me.

    “What? No! Is something the matter?” I was acting foolhardy.

    “No, never-mind,” She gave me a calming tone. “Did someone help you get here?”

    “Yeah a boy, he said he goes to my school.” I answered.

    “Did He give you a name?” My father chipped in.

    “His said his name was Amarion Osei.”

    My parents took on the appearance of utter-shock again. I wondered what was wrong.

    “I don’t want you talking to that boy anymore.” My father said

    “Why?” I questioned them both

    “He’s a faggot.” My father said furiously

    “What is that?” I asked Unknowingly

    “Something abnormal.” Chad fumed

    “Chad! Why would you ever use that Word?” She turned to me, “He’s Gay, it’s when a guy likes another guy.”

    “You should have a problem with it Melissa, aren’t you a good Christian?” My dad retorted

    Meanwhile, I didn’t understand why he had such a problem with guys liking each other. I kept my mouth shut and just listened in on their argument.

    “A good Christian doesn’t hold such trivial beliefs. Rather, they love everyone.” My mom answered feasibly

    “Oh shut it you know it’s true! Faggots should be extinct… Like the Jews under Hitler rule. He had one thing right.” My dads facial expression showed no contempt for what he just said.

    “How could you say such a thing? We have to stop this fighting. We have to focus on our son.” Mother tried to ease the arguing

    “I’m going out for a drink.” My dad left the room

    As he left I looked to my mom, not caring for what words were exchanged but because I was hungry.

    “Sorry about that child, me and your dad don’t really get into arguments like that.” My mother lied though I didn’t know it at the time.

    “Alright, may I get something to eat?” I asked her.

    ***
Boy, I can’t hold on any longer.

    Boy, Come now.

    Boy, Here I am.

    ***

    The sun touched my palpable skin. It gave me affection and warmth. But I did not want to get out of bed, it was too comfortable for me. I stayed in there for a while until I became restless and anxious of what I was going to do this day. I wish I could remember my dreams. I had suffered a terrible nightmare and woke up in a cold sweat. Though I didn’t remember what it was, I hope it wasn’t that stalker-wolf again.

    I felt something stand up straight, and hard, I looked down and saw my erect member peering at me with open eyes. The very thought of doing something like this disgusted me. Though, I was so aroused by whatever dream I had that my subconscious did this to me. I wanted to touch it, to feel it grow, and to feel it’s hot seed come out from under.

    I was flabbergasted, I didn’t know where those ridiculous thoughts came from. Quickly rushing into the shower to cleanse myself off from this retched feeling gutted into my body. The shower was cold, but I stuck through it. Getting out of the shower I saw no change, I thought I would. Maybe it would be best to walk around for a while, or to will it down. or maybe. I thought of endless solutions that wouldn’t help my cause. Even if I tried stiffing it down my pants the very length of it would penetrate through. Putting on my clothes and still seeing no change, I didn’t care of my appearance then and walked downstairs. Suddenly putting into thought another action seemed to calm it down, and I was relieved.

    Finally coming downstairs I prepared to make myself something to eat, but I didn’t know how. I reached a door, but I did not know what it was for. Dare I open it? I dared, when I opened it I saw rows upon rows of food everything already prepared. I salivated. I did not know which one to choose, or which one tasted the best. I took out all of them, I said to myself I was only going to try them. I was wrong. After 30 minutes my stomach was bloated and I could not think for I was so full. I hated feeling like this, I wanted to stick my finger down my throat and make myself vomit. The sensation came over me so fast it made my stomach churn, my throat burned, and I was so disgusted with myself. I went to the bathroom and promptly emptied my stomach in the toilet. I sat there and cried when I stopped. I wanted to stop everything, cut it short, I didn’t know how I would make this up. I found and unclipped a razor and brought it to my jugular. I was so scared. I didn’t know what was coming for me on the other side. I slit my throat just as my mom walked in.

  • Last Man Surviving – A Reality TV Adventure

    LAST MAN SURVIVING

    A Reality TV Adventure

    By P. J. Nevada

    Copyright 2014 P. J. Nevada, LLC

    LICENSE NOTES: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This story contains sexually explicit content and language and is intended for adult readers. It may contain content that is disagreeable to some readers. This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    Last Man Surviving

    I don’t like job interviews. I sat uncomfortably in a suit and tie in the brightly lit room in front of a desk. I looked around the glass and chrome office. Not my thing. I prefer a more laid back vibe. So here I was in the middle of this Century City, Hollywood, California television network office complex. What I really wanted was to get back to my much smaller and more relaxed office back in Redondo Beach. The man behind the desk suddenly looked up and grinned at me. With perfectly white teeth, every hair on his head cemented into place, and a wide smile, you could tell he was a television exec.

    “I am so sorry,” he said, hanging up the phone. “It was New York, I had to take it. You know how it goes.”

    He picked up the file in front of him. “Oh, that’s right, you’re Nicholas Johnson, the attorney, right?” He looked back at me.

    “Yes, that’s me,” I answered.

    “So tell me, Nick, can I call you Nick? Why are you here?” he asked, putting down the folder and picking up a pen to take notes.

    “Nick is fine. Well, to be honest, I’ve been a fan of your program “America’s Survival Reality Show” for quite a few years. I like watching the people who you leave on some tropical island or remote location and see how they do. You know, to see who figures out how to make it to the end and get past the other contestants. Let’s be honest, the three million dollar prize would really be nice,” I explained.

    The man behind the desk stopped writing and looked up at me. “Five million, this year the total prize is five million dollars.”

    “Damn, that’s life changing!” I said enthusiastically.

    “Yes, for sure,” he continued. “I need you to discuss two things for me. First, you will be away from your home for at least a month, probably out of the country, and of course I cannot give you any specifics,” he added with a grin. “Secondly, how comfortable are you with a lot of physical activity and contests, such as possibly climbing, swimming, diving, and other challenges you may have seen on other seasons of our show?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

    I looked at him carefully, trying to figure out what he wanted me to say. “Well first off, as to the time issue,” I began, “I am an attorney working for myself. A couple of months ago, I decided working for a large LA law firm was not my thing. Yes, the salary was amazing, but the hours sucked. Eighty hour work weeks, no thank you. I had no personal time and couldn’t enjoy the beach and the ocean. I love to surf but I never had time for it. I lost two boyfriends solely because of my job, and had zero social life,” I said. “And yes, I am gay and hope that is not a problem for you and the network,” I added defiantly.

    “No, not at all, Nick,” he countered. “So your work plans now?”

    “I have enough saved to let me coast for a few months. I plan to lease some office space and open the practice in the next few months, hopefully after this show, if I am selected. The truth is, I’ve been working full time since college so I’m looking forward to this break.”

    The man behind the desk gave me a reassuring nod and a smile.

    “As for my physical ability, I was always the jock at school. I loved gymnastics and baseball, and of course, swimming and surfing. I’ve also done quite a bit of rock climbing and enjoy anything that is outdoors as a rule,” I explained.

    “Yes, yes. I saw that in your application, and thank you for your photos of you in swim trunks. You realize that we needed that for the network. So you have no problem being seen on national television running around shirtless?” the executive asked me, his eyes twitching upward as he spoke.

    I looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he had any ulterior motive with such a question. “Are you asking me if I’m afraid to be exposed at all?”

    “Something like that,” he answered.

    I stood up and took off my jacket, keeping my eyes on him. I undid my tie and pulled it off, quickly unbuttoning my shirt. The man behind the desk sat unmoving, apparently unfazed. Not wearing an undershirt, it was only a moment before I stood before him shirtless, my bare chest on display.

    He looked me over slowly, his eyes showing his approval.

    “Need I go further?” I innocently asked.

    “No, not at all. You proved that you are comfortable not being fully dressed.”

    “I’ve seen enough of the shows to know that sometimes people skinny dip or shuck their clothes due to the heat. I’m cool with that. I’ve certainly spent enough time at the beach wearing barely more than a speedo at times.”

    My executive’s eyes widened with that comment.

    We chatted a while longer after I put my shirt, tie and jacket back on. He informed me that I was definitely in the running and that there would be a final meeting and interview before selections were made. There would also be a medical exam if I proceeded to the next level of the process. I thanked him for his time and I headed out.

    I was happy to drive out of hectic downtown Los Angeles and hit the 110 freeway south until I was back in Redondo. I grabbed some board shorts and quickly changed, eager to get out of my suit. In no time, I was sitting on the beach enjoying the fresh ocean air, peeling off my tee shirt and relaxing. I missed the smell of the ocean and the salty air. Hopefully my new life would afford me as much ocean time as I wanted. I looked over a few of the guys walking by and enjoyed having a couple of them look me over as well. At 30 years of age, I still had the looks of someone much younger. My unruly mop of blonde hair and tanned body defined me as a typical southern California surfer dude. At 6 feet in height, I kept my weight to a trim 170 pounds and loved my defined abs. One particular guy, maybe in his mid-twenties, walked past me at least three times, glancing my way and flexing as he passed. Nah, not my type, I thought.

    My mind was overwhelmed with what I was getting myself into. Part of me thought I was crazy to want to be on a reality show but another part of me looked forward to showing off on national television walking around buff and shirtless. In a former life, I must have been a model. That television exposure, plus a few million bucks would definitely jumpstart my social life when I returned to civilization.

    A week later, I was back in Century City. This time, I wore a sport jacket and some Dockers pants, assuming they were dressy enough. The friendly lady calling me about the appointment warned me to be prepared to stay for a few hours. When asked, she said nothing about my chances. It was 10:00 a.m. as I sat in a room with maybe 50 other guys, looking like a real cross section of the population. I saw white, black, Hispanic and Asian guys of all sizes and ages. Some looked like they were only 18 or 20 years old while others looked to be in their thirties, forties, and even a couple in their fifties. I sat quietly, watching, taking it all in. I assumed the female contestants were being handled on another day or in another place. Every now and then, someone at the front of the room would call out a name or two and those guys would be led out of the room. I found it interesting that sometimes the guys called out would return and take their seat, but some never came back.

    “Hey, man. You think you have a shot at this thing?” a voice to my left asked.

    I turned to look at him. He was a nice looking black guy. His hair cut short, wearing jeans and a nice button down shirt.

    “Don’t know,” I half muttered.

    He put his hand out towards me. “Hey, the name’s Denzel. How ya doing?” he asked.

    We shook hands. “Nick here. I’m doing fine, just not sure what I’m doing here putting myself through this crap. I have no clue what they’re looking for.”

    Denzel leaned forward. “I heard that if you make it to the final steps, you really have to push it to make an impression, hoping the interviewer has some authority with the decision,” he offered, keeping his voice low.

    “Interesting,” I responded.

    “I’m 29 years old, by the way. And you?” he asked.

    “I recently turned 30. So are you married or single, Denzel?”

    Denzel frowned as he spoke. “My old lady split. We were together 8 years and she ran off with some guy. She’s a bitch and a half! So I thought I could use a break from the real world. How about you? Wife or girlfriend?”

    “I’m gay; I’m not into the female scene,” I answered.

    “You are one smart fucker!” Denzel offered with a grin. “No bitches to mess with!” he added with a smirk.

    I shrugged my shoulders, unsure how to respond. “I have nothing against women. I’m just not interested in them sexually.

    “You know something? No bitches means no drama!” Denzel said.

    “Hah! Guys got their own drama. You’d be surprised.”

    We talked some more. I found out that he worked for the post office and accumulated enough vacation time to try out for the show and take over a month off from work. I explained that I was an attorney between jobs.

    A little while later, Denzel, two other guys, and I were called up and led into a small room. A young woman came in with a clipboard.

    “Gentlemen,” she began, “congratulations! You are part of the final 40 applicants. At this point, we are going to do some photo tests to see how you look on film. The final step will be one last interview.” She looked around the room. “Any questions?”

    I raised my hand. “Yes?” she responded, looking at me.

    “Where are the women? I only see guys here,” I asked.

    “Good question. This year we are trying something new. We are currently filming a females-only show and today we are putting together the cast for the guys-only show!” she announced proudly.

    “Nice!” I said, supporting her enthusiasm.

    After she left, the four of us guys took our seats and picked up some of the various magazines lying on the tables near us. The first guy was called, an older guy, maybe in his late 40’s. Twenty minutes later, he stuck his head in the door and shot us a thumbs up sign. Damn, that wasn’t good for me, I thought. The second guy was called out but we never saw him again. Half an hour later, someone called for Denzel.

    “Good luck man,” I called out as the door closed behind him, hearing a muffled thanks in return.

    I sat quietly reading a magazine, my heart pounding from nerves until 20 minutes passed and the same lady as before came in the room. “Nick, are you ready?” she asked.

    Damn. Denzel never came back, I thought. I was disappointed at the loss of the only friendly face I knew in this whole affair. I followed along the hallway and was led into a room set up with lights and camera equipment. In the corner I saw Denzel. It looked like he was finishing up his photo shoot, standing in his pants without his shirt. It took me a minute to stop staring. His bare chest was impressive. His dark skin was smooth, very well-muscled. His pecs stood out and he had the best abs I had ever seen. His waist was trim and tight. Denzel looked over and gave me a thumbs up as he put on his shirt, putting himself back together.

    I was directed to sit in a chair on the side as the woman who brought me in talked to the photographer, a man standing next to some lights.

    She turned to face Denzel, who was dressed. “Okay, Denzel, you’re done today and we’ll be in touch. So far, so good. The photographer was happy with your photo session,” the woman said.

    Turning to the photographer, she continued speaking. “Bob, this is Nick and he will be your last shoot for today. We’re sending the rest of the applicants upstairs to the other studio.”

    “Thanks, Meg. Sorry I have to split early today,” Bob, the photographer replied.

    “Lock up when you’re done,” Meg replied. And with that, she escorted Denzel out of the room.

    “So you’re Bob I take it,” I asked, giving this guy the once over. He was about my height and probably a couple of years younger than me. Bob had dark red hair and fair skin. From his waist down, covered in a pair of jeans, his hips were as slim as his legs. However, from the waist up, his body flared outward with impressive lats and shoulder muscles. He wore a blue checkered shirt and no undershirt. A small patch of red hair poked out of his collar, the top two buttons of his shirt open. I couldn’t decide if I thought he was too cute or too sexy.

    “So how are you doing today, um Nick, right,” he asked as he looked down at a clipboard and then up at me. I nodded a yes with a smile, not quite sure what to expect.

    “Well, this will be real simple, Nick,” he began. “I’m actually one of the judges to see who makes the cast. Since I will be one of the on-site producers and cameramen, I need to make sure the camera loves you,” he explained.

    “Fair enough,” I said, realizing this guy was important, very important.

    “First I will take some head shots, close ups, then a couple of bare chested poses, for those beach scenes,” he explained.

    “So we at least have a beach where we are going, huh?” I said, prodding for some clues.

    Bob looked at me grinning. “IF … you are going. But, yes, we almost always have a beach, Nick. You won’t get any other information from me!” he teased.

    I was positioned where to sit Bob began snapping away. I made sure to do everything exactly as directed, hoping I would get his attention. Five million dollars, five million dollars, I repeated in my head. When he was ready for me to take off my shirt, I kept my eyes on him and kept talking, forcing him to watch me. Five more minutes taking photos, he was almost done, I saw my opportunity.

    “Bob, can I ask you a question?” I asked.

    “Sure, Nick, what?” he answered.

    “I’d like to do some extra poses for you, different ones, to see if I can stand out somewhat. Do you mind? I asked innocently.

    Bob looked up at me as he looked at his watch. “Sure, Nick. Why not. You’ve been easy to work with and I’m ahead of schedule. I was actually thinking of calling Meg to see if she wanted me to shoot a couple more guys.”

    “We’ll see,” I said as I unsnapped the top of my pants and lowered the zipper slightly, seeing Bob’s eyes widen as he picked up his camera again. “I’m sure the camera will find me wearing only shorts while on the beach,” I remarked.

    “Yes, that is true, Nick.” Bob started to move around me, taking the photographs at a slower pace this time, not sure what I was up to.

    I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks, walking around him barefoot.

    “I’d certainly not wear socks or shoes on the beach, would I?” I asked with my eyebrows raised. He nodded his head up and down, still taking pictures, watching my actions.

    I lowered the pants zipper a little more, letting my fingers slip casually inside the waist band of my white underpants, a pair of tighty whities.

    Bob continued clicking his camera, but I could see I was pulling him in, frame by frame. I pulled my pants down, turning half way away from him, allowing him to see the profile of the bulge in my underpants. His eyes took it all in. I kicked off my pants entirely and grabbed a chair, sitting down, spreading my legs suggestively. I looked up at him with a smirk on my face.

    “Is this a good pose, Bob?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

    “It’s definitely better than the ones I took with the other guys before you,” he said, putting the camera down and smiling back at me.

    I got up from the chair and walked towards him slowly, wearing only my underpants.

    “You look warm, Bob, I bet from all those pictures you had to take of so many guys who may not even be selected.” He grinned back at me, nodding his head.

    “And you said you would be on the island with us, huh? I bet it’s in the Pacific Ocean!” I said, standing directly in front of him.

    “You know, Nick, I can’t tell you that it’s one of the islands of Tahiti,” he said, his smile widening as his eyes scanned my body. I reached out and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, revealing an impressive chest dusted with short curly reddish hair.

    “I’ve never dated a redheaded guy before,” I said slowly as I admired his muscular chest. “Or had sex with one either, for that matter,” I added with a wink.

    Suddenly I felt his hand on my crotch. “White fabric doesn’t photograph very well. It glares in the picture,” he said, rubbing my swelling cock beneath the cotton material of my briefs.

    “I am so sorry, Bob,” I said as I quickly pulled my briefs down and off, allowing my growing cock to pop up into his waiting hand.

    “Is this better now, Bob? I’d never want any glare,” I purred.

    With my hands slowly exploring and caressing his chest, I worked his shirt off, letting it to fall to the floor. I moved in closer, feeling his body heat next to mine. He continued a slow stroke of my hard cock as I opened his pants. They dropped, revealing Bob went commando, no underwear at all. He stood before me naked, his cock crowned with light red hair, grew more and more erect.

    Bob moved into me as we fell into a tight hug, our hard cocks pushed up against our bellies. Our mouths locked, tongues moving to find each other, beginning their courtship dance. Like two slippery eels, our tongues wiggled about, darting in and out, exploring new territory. Our raw lust increased until we found ourselves on the floor, working into a 69 position. My mouth found Bob’s ball sac and kissed the wrinkly skin. Taking one ball at a time into my mouth, I sucked and licked as Bob moaned in delight. He meanwhile went straight for my throbbing cock. Not wanting to be undone, I moved onto his cock, licking the head first and then the underside, being sure to cover it all. With my hands clutching his plump ass cheeks, my lips tightened around him, giving him a good, tight suck.

    Bob remained attached to my cock as his head began a back and forth motion, triggering my hips to begin a slow pivot movement so I could properly face fuck him. Our moans grew as our bodies heated up to keep pace. I knew I was close and could tell by the rising sound of his moans and groans that Bob was also close. Sucking busily on the floor of some office for the chance to win big on television somehow spurred me on. I tensed and felt the rising tide of my cum. I began to shoot out as Bob’s cock stiffened in my mouth. I felt wave after wave of his own warm cream hit the back of my throat. I kept his cock in my mouth as he calmed, allowing me to take all that he offered.

    At the other end, Bob was doing the same. He tenderly licked me clean until he was finished. A few moments later, we pulled apart and found ourselves sitting naked side by side, still panting, on a small couch nearby.

    “So, will your wife or girlfriend be with you in Tahiti during the filming of the show?” I asked, our bare hips and knees pressing together.

    “Nope! I’m gay!” he said with a wide smile.

    “What a coincidence,” I said, smiling widely. “I’m gay too! Small world, huh Bob?”

    He stood up and walked towards his clothes which were lying jumbled on the floor.

    I also got dressed. “Thanks for the time. I truly had fun with you today!” I said.

    “Me too, Nick. Thanks for the little thrill!”

    “Little?! We’re both a good eight inches! Not so little I my opinion!” I teased.

    “So, Bob,” I began, what’s the next step here after today? When do I hear something?”

    Bob turned and walked over to me, standing inches from my face.

    He lowered his voice to speak, his eyes serious. “Sir, the producers shall meet to review the candidates’ files. Most will be eliminated tomorrow and receive a letter right after that. Some may be asked back for another meeting, but a handful will receive an acceptance letter to be on America’s Survival Reality Show. Does that answer your question sir,” he stated, without any emotion whatsoever.

    Bob surprised me and leaned forward, planting a big sloppy kiss on my lips. He raised his eyebrows and turned his mouth to my ear.

    “Go call your utility companies and set up automatic bill pay from your bank account to cover at least 5 or 6 weeks of your absence, beginning the first of the month, hot stuff,” he whispered, causing my heart to skip at least three beats!

    “Oh?”

    “Don’t call us. We’ll call you!” he added with a wink.

    Holy fuck, was all I could think. What the hell was I getting myself into, I wondered.

    Three days after my rousing photo session with the cameraman, who apparently was also one of the producers for the show, I received my letter inviting me to be a contestant. Since this was going to be a male-only cast of buff guys willing to tough it out in the wild, I figured this should be a most exciting undertaking.

    During the next week, I dealt with my bills and utilities and told a friendly neighbor to keep an eye on things for a month or two. I packed my suitcase in preparation for a tropical journey, being sure to include my personal essentials. We were not allowed to bring any electronics like cell phones or computers. My adventure was beginning.

    So here I was sitting in a business class seat of an Air Nui Tahiti jumbo jet to Papeete, capital of Tahiti. Looking around the plane, I appreciated the upscale treatment. There were seven seats across in each row. Two on each side and three in the middle. I lucked out with a window seat and an empty seat next to me. It was a nine hour overnight flight from Los Angeles and I was excited yet nervous, not sure exactly what to expect.

    Bob, my cameraman buddy, walked down the aisle and stopped to say hello. “Hey, Nick! Are you holding so far?” Bob asked.

    I returned his warm smile. “I’m doing great. Thanks again, by the way!” I said with a knowing look.

    “Hey, for what it’s worth, you were always a top contender; you’re smart, articulate, and have a hell of a rocking hard body!” Bob said in a hushed voice.

    I thanked him again as he took the empty seat next to me and we talked about the flight. Bob told me about some of the other contestants scattered around the plane.

    Bob motioned to the other window seat at the far end of my row. “That guy there is named Scott. He’s close to 20 and a student. Slightly nervous about the long flight, he’s way cute, and looks really good on camera.”

    I leaned forward in my seat to try to see who this guy was. I could barely see him but with short black hair and a Mediterranean complexion, he seemed cute enough. “So how good was he to photograph?” I asked with a dirty grin, knowing how far my own photo session went with Bob.

    Bob leaned in closer. “For the record, Nick, you were the only applicant who had a “special” camera session,” he answered with a leer.

    “Anyway, he’s super straight, so we are out of luck!” Bob determined. I looked at Scott and wondered.

    Bob got up to return to his own seat. A short time later, Denzel walked by and noticed me. Seeing the empty seat next to me, he plopped down.

    “Hey man!” Denzel said excitedly, grabbing my hand and shaking it. “We both made it, isn’t that sweet!” he added.

    We chatted for a while and he went into his anti-female rant again due to his longtime girlfriend dumping him. He started asking again about my sex life.

    “Denzel, the truth is a guy’s physique is what gets me going, and a guy can give me anything a girl can. Period! To be honest, guys know how to pleasure another guy better because we all have the same parts!” I explained.

    “I don’t know if I can give up pussy, Nick. Hanging onto them titties! Mmm mmm!” he said, almost blushing as he explained his preferences.

    We chatted and teased until they dimmed the cabin lights, indicating that it was time for the passengers to sleep.

    Here’s my chance I thought, to get this guy and start building an alliance that I could use in the game. I leaned my head closer to Denzel and began to speak in a low voice.

    “Denzel, I know what you are used to, but I bet I can make you agree that a guy can give a better hand job or blow job than any girlfriend of yours could offer,” I said with eyebrows raised, watching his reaction in the dim cabin light.

    “A bet?” he asked, taking my bait. “You offering? Like right here, right now?”

    “Yeah, why not? Don’t you deserve a good thrill? Besides, who knows when you’ll be able to get off again on a remote island filled with just guys,” I said, making my cock twitch thinking of a remote island of only men.

    “And I don’t have to do anything?” he asked, as I began to reel him in. “And the bet?” he added.

    I thought for a minute. “First, let’s switch seats so you’re near the window and I’m blocking you. You don’t have to do anything at all. Once you cum, I’ll trust you to tell me if it was better than any female who gave you head,” I explained. “If I’m right, you owe me a vote on the island when we have to eliminate someone. You vote for whoever I name. If I’m wrong, you control one of my votes. A true gentlemen’s agreement, alright?’

    I watched Denzel’s face. He was quite torn but I could tell he was slowly biting down on the hook. He looked back at me with a grin.

    He’s mine, I thought, as I stood up and grabbed a blanket and my jacket from the overhead bin as he slid over into my window seat. I looked around seeing the nearby passengers were either asleep or into a movie, wearing those thick padded headphones. At the front of the cabin, the flight attendants’ area was dimly lit, their curtain closed.

    I sat down next to Denzel and opened the blanket across our laps and we both reclined our chairs. Before I could say anything, Denzel slipped his hands under the blanket and undid his pants. Damn, talk about an eager victim, I thought.

    Looking around my seat, I saw a button that allowed me to lower the middle arm rest separating our seats. With the armrest down, I scooted closer until our hips touched. I looked over at him, seeing the slightly apprehensive look on his face.

    “Any time you want me to stop, say so and I will.”

    Denzel offered me a smiling, concerned face. “Okay, thanks,” he responded.

    I slipped my hand under the blanket and rested it below his chest, trying to get him to relax into this. I stroked his belly gently, pushing aside his loosened shirt, exploring his bare warm skin. His abs were awesome; firm, smooth and defined. I think I was about to enjoy this as much as him! Rubbing slowly, I could hear him take in a deep breath. Once he seemed relaxed, after he looked around once or twice, I moved my hand lower, feeling his small patch of tightly curled pubic hairs.

    “You must trim?” I asked in a hushed voice, looking at him.

    “Yeah, I do. You?” he asked.

    “Always!” I answered. Curiosity about me was a good sign, I thought.

    My hand slid lower under the blanket until I was grasping his growing cock. It felt long and cut. And hot!”

    I leaned in closer and sensed his breath quickening. With his cock getting harder, I knew I was doing well. I leaned in closer. “You doing okay, buddy?” I asked

    Denzel leaned in to me. “Man, this is hot; you are awesome! It feels real good,” he offered. “Does this qualify us for the mile high club?” he joked.

    I laughed, still pumping him. His cock began to leak precum, allowing me to jack him more aggressively, my mouth starting to salivate. I looked up at him with an evil grin and leaned down, getting onto my knees on the floor and going under the blanket between his legs. Denzel began to stroke himself as I moved closer, my face butting up against his moving hand. Denzel gasped, figuring out what I was up to! I pushed his hand out of my way and planted my mouth on his rock hard cock. I heard a soft “Oh fuck!” escape his lips as my mouth took over.

    One of my hands caressed and cupped his balls. My other hand grasped the base of his nine inch cock while my mouth furiously moved up and down, my lips gripping tighter around my target. Denzel’s hips began to buck in his seat as my clenching fist began its assault on his cock base, my mouth working the top half. Sensing him getting close, I began to tug on his balls and move my hand under them, pressing firmly against his bare skin.

    I heard him take in a deep breath. His butt pushed hard into his seat as his cock pulsed in my mouth. I felt his first wave of cum shoot out against the back of my throat. I sucked hungrily and urged out two more streams of his juice. I lapped at his cock, making certain I captured all of his cream as his body calmed. Feeling around his deflating cock with my tongue, I sensed the right moment to remove my mouth, putting his cock back in his pants, zipping him back up and snapping his pants closed.

    With all in order, I eased out from beneath the blanket and scooted back into my seat. I looked around quickly, mindful that those who were sleeping had remained asleep. Back in my seat, I leaned over to face Denzel.

    “So?” I asked in a bare whisper.

    “All I will say is that you sure as hell have my vote, man! Who knows, I may need to sell you some more votes if I last long enough on that island, Nick!”

    “Always open for business, pal,” I offered with a grin. A few minutes later, Denzel leaned back over towards me again.

    “You don’t mind if I head back over to my seat do you, Nick?” Denzel asked.

    “Not a problem, go grab a nap. I probably will too.”

    Denzel patted me on the shoulder as he got up to walk back to his seat. “Later,” I called out in a whisper, not wanting to wake any of the nearby passengers.

    I leaned back in my seat, taking a deep breath, and tried to fall asleep. After a short time, and unfortunately still awake, I grabbed my toiletry bag and headed to the bathroom to freshen up, hoping that I could clear my head and relax for some good snooze time. I took a very long pee and then washed. I grabbed my toothbrush and tooth paste, cleansing my sour smelling mouth. With my face washed, feeling refreshed, I turned towards my seat, but stopped. I walked toward the other aisle instead, walking slowly in the near dark, seeking a different destination. I was in luck. That other contestant, Scott, was sitting by the widow and the seat next to him was empty. I watched for a moment and noticed that he wasn’t sleeping. In fact, he seemed very restless.

    As I walked slowly, as I was passing his seat, he looked up and over at me and grinned. By the expression on his face, I knew he was not enjoying an otherwise calm smooth flight, so I took my opening.

    “Hey, how are you doing?” I inquired quietly.

    “Not so hot. I hate flying!” he answered.

    I grabbed the empty seat and stuck out my hand. “Hey, I’m Nick, also on the survival reality show.”

    “Cool,” was all he could muster.

    “It’s not so bad,” I began. “It’s a good airplane and this airline has a great safety record.”

    “Really?” he said. “I’m Scott by the way. I must be nuts for going on this show!”

    “Hey, that’s what I was thinking also.”

    “Well, at least there’s a chance for a big payout!” Scott responded.

    “Anyway, I’m an attorney, I’m 30, and I’m gay!” I announced.

    “Cool. I’m 20, a political science major hoping to go to law school,” Scott answered. “And I think I’m bi!” he added.

    “You think?” I asked.

    “Well, I’ve tried both and I’m still not sure.”

    “Hey, it’s not an either/or decision, Scott. You have plenty of time to figure things out and see what works for you!”

    He smiled back at me.

    “You should try to sleep,” I suggested. “Want some company for a while?”

    “Yeah, sure. That would be awesome,” he said with a widening grin.

    I pulled out a pillow from the overhead bin and put it behind my head as I reclined back, patting his leg reassuringly. I loosened the top of my pants a little to get more comfortable.

    Once my eyes were closed, I was soon dozing along to the low steady hum of the smooth flying jumbo jet. I fell asleep to the thought that the grand prize win would be life altering, figuring that I’d have some good sex filled days on a tropical location. Certainly a good way to clear my mind between jobs!

    My mind drifted to the memory of my fun suck off of Denzel. My mind floated as I could feel each suck on my own cock, remembering each suck I gave Denzel. And the feelings grew more and more pleasurable in my dream. They kept getting stronger. I was having a wet dream triggered by this recent memory. Or was I? I began to wake, definitely feeling a mouth on my cock. I opened my eyes, recognizing that I was still in the darkened airplane. A blanket was spread across my lap and someone under that blanket. Holy Fuck!

    I instinctively looked over to find the seat next to me empty. Scott was sucking me off! And doing a damn good job at it! My hips bucked and I started to thrust forward to the mouth working my cock so well. I looked around, everyone else still asleep as my orgasm approached. I gripped the arm rests of my chair and stifled a groan as I my balls erupted. Scott sucked me hungrily, taking my load when I came. My heart was pounding. It took a few moments for my body to ease, relaxing into a post-orgasm calm.

    My hand reached out to caress the highest bump of the blanket, trying to locate Scott’s head. I heard my pants zip back up, indicating I was being serviced by someone who was very considerate.

    The blanket lowered, revealing Scott’s face, his expression looking up at me with one of apprehension. I could tell he wasn’t sure of my reaction. He glided back into his seat, his gaze still fixed on my face. I smiled and patted his hand, releasing him from his worry.

    “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice deceiving him with a slight stutter.

    “Why would I be? Thanks for the wake up surprise.”

    “You looked so hot sleeping there next to me. I couldn’t resist!” he explained.

    I leaned my head closer. “Scott, just promise me that I will get to return the favor.”

    He nodded his head eagerly up and down, assuring me I made another friend, adding another member to my alliance.

    “I guess I can go back to my seat, as I have a hunch you’re not as tense flying anymore,” I said with a grin, standing up, patting my clothes back to some sort of orderly appearance. I walked quietly down the aisle and back over to my seat. Sitting down and buckling in, I had no problem falling asleep instantly, having enjoyed the last few hours of the flight very much.

    Some hours later, I stretched and opened my eyes to see the sun streaming into the cabin of the aircraft. I looked around as window shades were slowly being lifted, passengers were stirring, getting themselves organized and put back together. Breakfast was served and most people, including myself, made their last trips to the bathrooms to brush teeth, comb hair and wash up, getting ready for landing.

    After a good flight and taxiing to the terminal, we left the plane and felt the gust of warm and humid tropical air. Walking a few yards through the terminal, I saw Bob, my photographer pal holding a sign with the name of the “Survival” show. I stood next to him as other contestants circled around us. Denzel gave me a thumbs up, his face still bleary from the long overnight flight. Scott sided up to me with a wink and the eager face of a typical 20 year old. Scott was still young enough to stand the test of a long flight. I looked around the group of guys standing next to me. I counted nine of us, including Bob.

    Shortly after, a really good looking tenth guy, with cell phone in hand, deep in conversation, came up to stand next to us. Bob looked around and grinned. “Okay, gentlemen, looks like we’re all here. This guy on the phone is the show’s host. You may recognize Dick Summers from previous shows. Say hi to the guys, Dick!” Bob directed. The guy on the phone waved his hand with a quick grin and got back into his conversation. I looked over Dick carefully. Every hair was in place. His face, lightly tanned, could easily be on the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. With a trim body, he filled out his clothes nicely. Too bad he wasn’t a contestant that I could play with in our tropical locale.

    “I’m Bob, one of the cameramen and associate producer. You’ll see me and a couple other cameramen around but after today we will not talk again. Rules, you know!” Bob explained.

    “We’re headed for the Le Meridien Tahiti Hotel in Papeete where you can freshen up. Later today we will have our meeting explaining the game and how it will all go down. Today, the afternoon is free to crash or explore or whatever you want. Tomorrow we fly off to our destination,” Bob added. “Now, it’s off to customs and baggage and our hotel,” he further directed.

    After a short drive in our van, we made it to our hotel. All of us were stoked, having caught several glimpses of the bright blue tropical Pacific Ocean. It was hard to believe we were in the legendary South Seas! I was really excited. We drove maybe twenty minutes in one vehicle while our luggage was taken in a small pickup truck. We arrived at the hotel, walking into the lobby and the front desk where Bob and our host, Dick, were checking us in.

    Dick turned to face us.

    “Good morning gentlemen! Welcome and thanks for participating on our reality survival show,” he began. “Its 10:30 a.m. right now,” he announced, looking at his watch. I’ll give you some time to settle in, shower and do whatever you want. We’re here for one night only. Tomorrow after breakfast, we have a quick flight to the remote island where the game will begin,” Dick explained.

    We all nodded in agreement, excitedly looking at each other, sizing up our competition.

    Dick cleared his throat. “At 2:00 p.m. today, I need all of you down here in the lobby. We will have our orientation and game rules meeting which should last for about three or four hours.” I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was really cute, even though I figured he was a few years older than me. Our eyes locked for an instant and we both quickly turned away.

    We were all given room keys and told our bags would be sent up to us. From what I could tell, the contestants’ rooms were scattered throughout the hotel. I was in room 969. Denzel walked by me and we each flashed our room numbers. He was on the fourth floor. I headed towards the elevators. Just as the doors were closing, Scott jumped through the closing doors. A couple of other contestants were in the elevator with us so I kept quiet for the ride. I hit the ninth floor button as Scott pushed past me to hit the 12th floor button, slyly poking me in the ribs as he did.

    I got to my room and opened the door. It was a nice sized room with a king bed and a large window with a balcony facing the azure blue Pacific Ocean. I looked down from the window and saw two impressive swimming pools with palm-covered huts scattered about. Too bad we couldn’t spend our entire time at this hotel.

    A knock on my door alerted me to the arrival of my suitcase. I plopped the bag on a large chair and opened it up, taking out a pair of dark blue board shorts, black briefs, and a white polo shirt. I really wasn’t tired enough for a nap. I was way too revved up being here and thinking about what was waiting for me, but I needed to take a shower first.

    I walked to the bathroom and was wowed by the size of it. It could have been the bathroom for a small gym. I tossed my assorted toiletries on the long sink counter and stripped off my clothes, seeing myself in the mirror and couldn’t help but grin. Still catching the eyes of 20 year olds, I thought to myself. I gave my cock a couple of quick pulls and turned to admire my still firm bubble butt cheeks. I gave them a pat and turned on the shower, stepping under the fancy “rain fall” shower head. The warm water felt good flowing over my body, still stiff from the long flight. I was tempted to have a nice slow wank but decided I had enough activity on the flight coming over. Besides, the area immediately surrounding the hotel looked interesting enough to deserve some exploration.

    With the thought of discovering new territory, I hurriedly dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist, leaving the bathroom to go get my clothes. I walked over to the window and opened the glass door, stepping out onto the balcony, enjoying the warm tropical air flowing over my body. It felt so good. I gazed out at the beautiful ocean and savored the tropical tranquility. A quick knock on the door brought me back to reality.

    Still in only my towel, I walked to the door and opened it, surprised to see Denzel giving me a nervous grin as he pushed past me to enter my room.

    “I didn’t want anyone to see me here. I’m not sure if we are allowed to talk to each other.”

    I mischievously looked him over. Dressed in a tight beige polo shirt and a pair of navy shorts, Denzel looked quite sexy. His darker skin was highlighted by the clothes he wore. His legs and butt were muscular and really filled out his shorts nicely while his shirt fit beautifully over his ripped torso. His pecs pushed against his shirt to the point of poking his nipples right into the fabric. Denzel’s arms, especially his biceps, stretched the shirt sleeve material to its limits. After he looked around the room, he noticed that I was wearing only a towel.

    “Oh man, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked.

    “Nah, just hopped out of the shower about to get dressed. I may wander about outside. It looks interesting.”

    I watched Denzel looking over my chest and arms. “You got some good muscles there, especially for a gay guy, you know?”

    “Ha! You should come to my gym. You sound surprised that someone gay wouldn’t be muscular. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not!”

    “Sorry. That came out wrong,” Denzel offered sheepishly.

    “It’s okay, Denny. Um, can I call you Denny?” I asked.

    “Sure man,” he replied with a grin. “My best buddies call me Denny.”

    “So gay guys can’t be muscular or masculine?” I added, teasing him with a grin.

    “I guess you caught me off guard. You look good, that’s all,” he answered.

    I walked towards my bed, where my clothes were laid out. I could feel Denzel’s eyes watching me and decided to have some fun. With my back still towards him, I dropped my towel, exposing my firm, rounded, smooth ass. I heard him take in a deep breath.

    “You um uh, want me to wait outside?” he stammered.

    I picked my white shirt up and turned to face him, letting him have full view of plumping cut cock hanging over my balls.

    “Why? You embarrassed? Besides,” I began, as I looked down over my naked body, “there’s nothing left for me to expose, huh?” I added with a chuckle.

    Despite him being a grown black man, I swear I detected a faint blush in his face. I slipped on my polo shirt and took a step towards him.

    “Besides, considering the blow job I gave you last night, I think I can consider you a close enough friend for me to feel comfortable around you,” I offered with a smirk.

    Denzel’s and my eyes locked for a minute. I couldn’t tell if he felt like a caged animal or an animal ready to attack and pounce on me.

    “Relax Denny, any red blooded male or female from time to time will admire any other red blooded male or female,” I explained. “It’s only natural,” I added.

    I let him continue to look me over as I slipped on my black briefs and then my shorts. Once finished, I slipped on a pair of sandals. I walked up to him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving him wide eyed and unable to speak.

    “Thanks for looking me over, Denny. I appreciate the compliment,” I said. “Makes me think I still got it! Anyway, you should probably leave the room first. We can meet up on the street and wander around together.”

    As I put my wallet into my pocket and grabbed my watch, I noticed Denny still standing there, rubbing the front of his tenting shorts.

    I stopped and turned to face him, standing near him. “You want some, don’t you, buddy?” I asked slowly, feeling my own cock twitch.

    “I don’t know what exactly to ask for,” Denzel responded slowly, weighing each word as he spoke. “Nick, I’m not gay, and I’ve never felt aroused by another guy. I really like girls.”

    I stepped closer to him and put my hand on his chest, feeling his firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. He took a deep breath when I touched. I moved closer, leaving us inches apart as my hand, suddenly with a mind of its own, travelled across his pecs, finding his nipples, caressing and squeezing them, before moving on to his abs and belly.

    “Stop worrying about titles. So are you trying to sell me another vote, Denny?” I asked with a mischievous grin.

    Denzel stood, looking embarrassed, taking in a deep breath, as I continued to seductively feel him up.

    “Price for a second vote just went up,” he announced, his eyebrows rising.

    I looked at his face closely, my hands holding him at the hips, my mouth inches from his. “A higher price?” I whispered. I leaned in for a kiss on his mouth, seeing how this otherwise straight guy would respond. He held his ground, returning the kiss with his full, soft lips. A smile appeared on his face.

    “Tell me your price and I’ll see if I’m interested,” I said, teasing him.

    “I want to fuck that sweet ass of yours,” he said slyly.

    “Hmm. I really don’t know Denny. Not sure if I’m buying!” I said, leaving him dumfounded.

    “You did say you’re an attorney right? So is this a counteroffer?” Denzel asked.

    I grinned back. I moved my arms over to him and tugged at his shirt, grabbing it at the bottom and slowly raising it, pulling it up over his head. I tossed it to a nearby chair. I turned back to him, my hands caressing his bare muscular chest.

    “Here’s the new offer,” I began slowly. “My ass and your second vote on the game will be mine, but we’re going to do this slowly. I want to enjoy your sexy, hard, body in the daylight. Last time I got to touch, but I saw nothing under that blanket,” I announced, smiling as I finished stating my conditions.

    I looked into Denzel’s eyes, which remained wide while I made my offer. Still standing close before him, I removed my hands from his chest and pulled off my own shirt, exposing my muscled torso. His eyes dropped from my face to my chest as he took it all in. Without taking my eyes off him, I pulled at my shorts and let them drop to my feet. I stepped out of them, kicking them aside, leaving me standing in my underwear. Before Denzel could react, I pulled at his shorts and dropped them, surprised he went commando, remaining naked before me. I brought my hand forward to cup his beautiful, full sized balls. His eyes went wide, taking in a deep breath. I stepped even closer, our faces barely touching, his growing cock pushing up against me. “So we got a deal, Denny?”

    Denzel grinned while I stripped naked, our hardening cocks pushing up against each other. I resumed holding his balls, caressing them gently. I felt his hand on my balls, confirming that we indeed had a deal. Leaning in, I kissed his neck and jaw, watching him close his eyes as he fell under my spell. My hands reached around him, pulling in close, our cocks grinding into each other. I smelled his skin, breathing deeply, smelling citrus. Obviously, he had also just taken a shower. I reached down to his cock and felt sticky liquid on the tip, evidence of his leaking precum. After a few moments, I pulled back and stepped away, his eyes showing the distraught look of a lost puppy. I smiled reassuringly when I walked over to my bag, rummaging through it, withdrawing my hand clutching a small bottle of lube.

    I stepped over to the bed, motioning for him to join me. I squirted some lube onto my fingers and putting my hand behind me, evenly greased up my asshole, pushing in as much as I could. Taking more of the cool gel onto my fingers, I reached over and grabbed Denny’s member, stroking it evenly over his hard rod, back and forth a few times for good coverage. His hips bucked and he let out a low moan with each stroke I gave him.

    “Ready, Denny?” I asked.

    Denzel nervously stepped behind me as I got on all fours on the bed, facing away from him, my ass positioned for him. Like an old pro, he moved forward, rubbing his cock and placing it against my rosebud. With his hands on my bare hips, he eased forward, his cock head teasingly puncturing my rosebud, slowly going in. I let out a low groan as he pushed his beautiful brown cock straight on home. At the half way point, it was Denzel’s turn to moan as he began pulling out, initiating back and forth fucking. Slowly at first, he picked up speed, with each thrust applying more force and more pressure. After a few more thrusts, I was feeling no pain. He was hitting my prostate love button on each pass, making my cock, hanging long and hard between my legs, leak onto the sheets below. The feeling was amazing; Denzel sure knew how to fuck. All I could think about was his stupid girlfriend who didn’t know how good a fucker she had dumped.

    “Ooh yeah, take it, take my cock, ooh yeah, take it,” Denzel moaned as he fucked me.

    I growled in response, enjoying the pleasure. This was good; this was really good. “Mmm yeah, give me that cock,” was all I could repeat. “Fuck me. Fuck me!”

    I clenched down my ass muscles and Denzel moaned even louder, his body thrashing hard into me now, the bed rocking. He slammed me really hard, freezing in his forward position. I could feel his cream shoot deep into me. How he had that much spunk still in his balls after I drained him last night at 30,000 feet over the Pacific Ocean amazed me.

    Denzel finally pulled out and fell onto his back next to me, panting like he ran a marathon, his skin smelling of sweat and sex. I flipped onto my back next to him, grabbing my leaking cock to jack, finishing myself off. I knew it wouldn’t take much as I was already aroused and hard. With five strokes I erupted. My cum shot high onto my shoulder, chest and even my lower belly. I let out a loud sigh of satisfaction.

    “You were awesome, Denny!” I said, my face turned towards him with a smile.

    “You too!” he replied. After a few moments to recuperate, we both sat up. I grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the bathroom. I knew that large shower would be able to accommodate both of us. I turned on the shower which had two shower heads and we stepped in. We began soaping up, cleaning off the cum clinging to our bodies and leaking out of my ass. At one point, Denzel was facing away from me and I soaped him up. From his muscled shoulders to his strong back, I rubbed and lathered and explored. I went lower to caress those beautiful bubble ass cheeks, pleased he let me play. He flinched once or twice when my fingers “accidentally” touched his ass crack or “mistakenly” poked his hole. I didn’t need to push the issue. He had certainly “come” far enough for my satisfaction. We finished up and I tossed him a towel, grabbing one for myself as we both dried off. I openly admired his amazing physique, observing him stealing glances at me as well.

    “So much for exploring the area around the neighborhood. It’s almost two o’clock and we have that meeting downstairs,” I commented.

    “You’re right,” Denzel said with a satisfied smirk.

    “Maybe you should go downstairs first and I will follow in a few minutes, meeting you in the lobby,” I suggested.

    A short time later I emerged from the elevator in the lobby and walked to our meeting room. There was a table with some coffee and tea and cans of soda with glasses of ice. Once everyone was there, the meeting began. Eight of us were seated at one table while opposite was another table with Dick, Bob and two other guys seated facing us.

    As things were described, I learned that the two new guys were also cameramen/assistant producers, like Bob. The four of them would direct and orchestrate the show. We were not to communicate with the cameramen and we would find notes at our campsite from Dick telling us when and where to meet him or what tasks or challenges we were assigned.

    The rules and the goal of being the last man standing were explained, and we would be eliminated based on either losing an event or contest or by being voted out by the other players. We had to work together to set up camp, finding wood, rope and would be supplied with bags of rice and beans. The rest was up to us as to how well we got along. The last two contestants remaining would go head to head and then the five million dollar prize would be awarded.

    The entire game would last about five weeks or six weeks on the island. We would not be introducing ourselves formally until the game began. In the morning we would take a short flight to Makatea Island, located 130 miles north of Tahiti. A small sea plane would carry us over. Tonight, we would find in our rooms a small nylon duffle bag and whatever we could fit into it was what we could take to the island. No electronic devices were allowed.

    The island itself, which was 5 miles long and 3 miles wide where some natives lived, was not inhabited right now. The 100 or so islanders were moved and paid handsomely for their month long vacation away from their homes.

    In the meantime, we were free to wander about near our hotel or could go into town to find some dinner. We could also spend the evening at the hotel pools or relax in our rooms. We were asked if we had questions and the obvious concerns about food and bathroom facilities were raised. And yes, food was on our own, but for the rice and beans. And yes, pooping was on our own too, although young palm leaves were suggested for a good wipe!

    After the meeting ended and we stood up, most of us headed for the doors to leave the hotel. On the way out, I saw Scott and gave him a warm greeting. Outside, I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned around.

    “Hello, I’m Mark. I’m 40 and an accountant,” he said. He seemed to be about my height, but stockier. While I offered him a friendly smile, he seemed to look at me with hesitation.

    “Nice to meet you Mark. I’m Nick. I guess we’ll have an interesting month, huh?” I said, trying to make conversation with this pickle faced guy.

    He stared at me for a second, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you the gay one?” he asked.

    “As a matter of fact, yes I am,” I answered.

    “You do know all fags go to hell when they die? Don’t you?” he asked, with that asshole face scowling at me now.

    “You don’t say? I wasn’t aware of that, Mark” I replied without skipping a beat. “I guess I’ll be there with the adulterers, tax cheats and other pencil pushers like you?” I said, remembering he was an accountant. He sneered at me. I openly grinned at him with the knowledge that my time with Denny and Scott would pay off nicely in getting this muthah fucker voted off the island first! I walked quickly away from him, leaving him standing with his lower jaw still hanging open.

    With a satisfied smirk, I knew that I was about to have one helluva good time. Walking along the palm tree lined street from the hotel towards town, I saw another guy from our meeting, figuring that it was my turn to make a contact.

    “I hope we can find a decent restaurant down this road,” I offered, siding up to this guy.

    “Hey, you’re also on the show, right?”

    “Yup! The name’s Nick. I’m from California.”

    “I’m Virgil. I hope we can find a good barbecue place. I heard they have great pork ribs here.”

    “Sounds good to me,” I added.

    Virgil was quiet, but seemed friendly enough. Average height and build, balding, I guessed him to be in his mid or late 40’s. I looked back over my shoulder to see asshole Mark and two other contestants heading off in another direction.

    Virgil and I settled on a nice outdoor restaurant, located maybe two blocks down the road. Another guy caught up with us. He introduced himself as Mario, a nice laid back guy who told us he was a cook and 25 years old. He had a warm friendly manner about him. At maybe 5 foot 9 inches in height, and maybe 160 pounds, his straight black hair and brown eyes made him attractive in his own way. He didn’t talk about any significant others so I assumed him to be single. I also read him to be straight, just for the record. Before we ordered, I saw Scott and Denzel walking by and waved them to come over and join us. The five of us hung out for a couple of hours, chatting comfortably, but each of us knew that once on the island, we would all become the competition and the obstacles to get to that big prize.

    The sun went down and the breeze picked up. We walked back to the hotel and said our good nights, needing to get into a competitive mood that each of us would need. Back in my room, I found my small nylon duffle bag and went to work figuring out how to get everything I would need for the next several weeks of reality game show battles. I took shirts and shorts and some toiletries. I had a several disposable razors which I knew could each last a week. Fortunately my smooth skin didn’t need much shaving, and my goal was to maintain a smooth face as much as possible. I also brought along some soap, sun block and moisturizer, knowing the sun and the salty ocean air could really mess me up.

    Although I don’t consider myself very vain, I knew we had a television audience watching, and the producers always kept two kinds of people at least halfway through a show. There was always the trouble maker, who was good for ratings, and then the clean cut cute guy who played the underdog. That’s the role I was shooting for, hence the clean face and nice shirts. I also packed a thong and a Speedo bikini bathing suit, knowing that they would be helpful in any necessary seductions. Amidst the face and hand lotions, I also packed a couple of bottles of lube and a box of Trojans. Sandals were added to complete my bag which I could barely close. With some tugging, I was able to zip it closed.

    I looked at the clock and it was late enough. I washed up in the bathroom and stripped naked before hopping into bed. Before shutting the light I set the alarm clock for the time they suggested and had no problem falling asleep. Tomorrow was going to be the beginning of a most unusual and exciting experience. I dreamed of being on the island, gathering materials from a jungle and trying to build a hut. I dreamed I was in the middle of a busy construction site, with guys calling out orders, bringing materials, hammering nails and sawing wood. And more hammering, more pounding and banging again. And more banging. The apparent commotion forced me to open my eyes. I still heard the hammering. No, it was banging. Banging? Shit! Someone was at the door. I jumped up and turned on the light. I was asleep for maybe only an hour.

    I got out of bed, walking to the door. I was about to open it when I looked down at myself, noticing that I was naked. I unlocked the door and opened it only part way, craning my neck around the door to see who was out there. On the other side was Scott, standing there in a yellow tee shirt and blue boxers.

    “Hey Scott!” I said groggily. “What’s up?” I asked.

    Scott offered me a weak smile. “I can’t sleep, Nick,” he said.

    “I can!” I responded, with a snap in my voice.

    “I guess I’m not use to being alone in a hotel in a strange place,” he said.

    “And you signed up for a month on a remote island?”

    “You going to let me in, Nick?” he asked, almost pleading.

    “Um, um, I’m um…… not dressed Scott!”

    Admitting I was naked, Scott’s face suddenly beamed like the kid offered a big bag of candy.

    “Good” he declared, and suddenly found the strength to push the door open against me and barged in.

    “Sex will help me sleep, Nick,” he said as he pulled of his t shirt and dropped his shorts on the floor before jumping into my bed.

    Well, I thought, I certainly can’t kick some sexy cock and balls attached to this kid out of my bed, now could I? After all, I am going for the audience’s favorite nice guy. The things some of us attorneys will do for the benefit of the public, I mused to myself.

    I shut the lights and crawled into bed.

    “My lube and condoms are already packed, buried in my bag for tomorrow Scott, so we may have to figure something else out,” I said.

    “Lube on the island! How thoughtful, Nick!” he exclaimed as I felt his warm naked body crawl on top of me, kissing and caressing my face and neck. As tired as I was, my cock needed no further urging. It was erect and throbbing, leaning on my belly under Scott’s body. In no time, I felt Scott’s smooth body crawling down, his mouth working lower and lower to its intended target – my cock.

    “Hey, I’m the one who owes you a suck off, remember?” I reminded him.

    “No problem hot stuff, we’ll flip around after I get you off!” he explained.

    On his knees, Scott was expertly working my cock. He tongued at my pubes, played with my balls, pulled and tugged on my sac as his mouth tightened over my cock. I was convinced this tropical air was definitely making my cock get hard faster and stay harder longer. Time on this all man island was going to be a lot of fun, I realized. I closed my eyes as I was guided into a wonderful feeling of bliss. There was no way I still had any cum left in my balls, but I was wrong. My hips and ass began to grind into the sheets of the bed as Scott took more and more of me down his throat. I was caressing the hair on his head, keeping him in place over my throbbing hardon until I felt my orgasm arrive. My hips bucked, thrusting up to meet his amazing mouth as I shot my load. I didn’t have as much as usual, but hey, an orgasm is an orgasm right?

    Scott licked me clean, finally lifting off my body, moving to face me and planting a deep hot kiss on my mouth. Hip lips parted as mine followed his lead; our tongues meeting and playing. I could taste the remnants of my pungent cream still in his mouth. After a brief tongue battle, Scott pulled off me and flipped onto his back.

    “Okay Nick, ready when you are!” Scott announced. I looked over to him and smiled. This is the guy doesn’t know for sure if he’s gay, bi or straight? I smiled thinking about it. Well, I have a headline for him. If he’s this hungry to suck and be sucked, well, he should be able to easily figure this one out!

    I leaned over him, seeing his smooth firm body in the moonlight streaming through the window, and knew this was a true delicacy. His chest muscles had a nice divide down the middle, with small dark nipples staring at me. Scott nearly had a six pack of abs, the skin so smooth they showed off the young muscles beneath. At 20 years of age, he was already a hottie, and I bet at 30, with some good gym time, this guy would be smoking hot. I looked further down and could see his trimmed pubes above his cock, which was already hard and throbbing.

    With my target in sight, I dove down, my mouth open, eager to take this piece of hot flesh. My lips tightened and went to work, knowing I’d hit the right nerve. Scott began to claw at me, squirming underneath, his strong young legs thrashing as I sucked his cock tighter and faster. His moaning increased as his arms pulsed like the rest of his body. I had to hold his hands to keep them still as I continued my assault. As I held and stroked his body, he did the same to me. Another soulful groan revealed his orgasm. Scott’s hips bucked towards me as I held on, my lips locked tight, pushing him to greater ecstasy. His body shook as his balls drained into my mouth, which I dribbled back onto his belly. We moaned in delight for several more moments.

    I rolled off him. “Nice, huh?” I asked.

    “Awesome!” he sighed, rolling onto me again and offering another kiss, and another tongue duel.

    “Not so bad!” he announced. “That was cool tasting my own cum after you sucked me off!”

    I turned on my side to face him in the moonlight, smiling contentedly.

    A few moments later, Scott was out of bed, looking around the room in the dark while naked, searching for his shirt and boxers. He found them and dressed, walking back to the bed and leaning over to kiss me again.

    “I bet I can sleep really well now, Nick!” Scott said softly. He walked to the door and opened it, peeking around the doorway down the hall to make sure he wasn’t seen, and out he went, before calling back in a whisper: “Good night, and thanks, Nick!:

    Tomorrow was going to be a big day, a very big day, I realized as I rolled onto my side. I easily fell asleep and stayed asleep until my alarm went off in the morning.

    I woke up early, shaved, showered and dressed. I packed my suitcase and threw the small nylon duffle back over my shoulder and went downstairs. My suitcase was to be held by the hotel. I went outside to the waiting van to join the rest of our troupe. Good ol’ redheaded Bob, my favorite cameraman/producer grabbed my bag and with a quick smile, ushered me to take a seat. I found myself seated next to Mario and off we went.

    It was eerily quiet in the van on the way to the airport’s charter terminal where we found our waiting plane. After a quick flight, and a few last minute cautionary words, we eight contestants were left on the beach on our own. We knew that the first order of business was to collect whatever fallen palm trees we could find and create some sort of shelter.

    Clint, a big and brawny guy, identified himself as a construction worker so we let him take the lead for the project. Looking to be maybe in his late 30’s, with brown hair and brown skin, his hairy chest popped out of his muscle shirt. He turned to our homophobe Mark for additional direction, so I took note to recognize their apparent alliance.

    Another guy who made himself known was a guy named Rod. With long blonde hair and a tan complexion, I was taken aback when he announced that he was a doctor. His bright yellow, low-collar tee shirt revealed a smooth, tan upper chest. I had him pegged for another West Coast surfer dude. I immediately took a dislike to him, watching him order everyone around as to where they should leave their bags, what rocks to move, and other silly items of business that he took upon himself to manage.

    Rounding out the last of our beach-bound tribe was Virgil, the quiet guy I met last night, who sadly looked incredibly out of place here. I’m sure he would have preferred to be sitting in front of a television with a six pack of beer in his lap. The poor guy looked lost, wandering from one guy to another, offering his help. I gave him a quick greeting and with Denzel and Scott in tow, we moved over to help move a couple of palm tree trunks around until we were able to set up two open-sided huts, covering them in palm leaves we strung in place with the vines we found scattered about.

    With the dust settled, and everyone nearly out of breath, sweating and exhausted, we found ourselves divided between the two beach front structures. Denzel, Scott and Mario joined me in the first hut while Mark, Clint, Doctor Rod, and Virgil settled into the second lean-to. Looking over at the other group of guys, I immediately targeted Virgil as the guy I would work on for any upcoming votes. Mario got a fire going on the beach, preparing the rice and beans which was supplied to us, while the rest of us found some sticks lying on the beach which we sharpened against some rocks and tried our hand at spear fishing in the water.

    I could describe the events that followed but that would lead to some rather embarrassing images. None of us had any talent, although Virgil nearly took off one of his own toes several times. And to our utter amazement, we actually were able to catch a handful of fish that would prove sufficient for Mario to prepare a halfway decent dinner for us. After we ate, all eight of us wandered about, making small conversation as we went. I walked along the beach, exploring and admiring the beauty of this tropical locale. I found Virgil and stood next to him looking out on the water. He proved to be a friendly enough guy, urged onto the show by his wife. We talked for a little bit and he excused himself, heading back to our huts.

    “Good talking to you, Nick,” he called out.

    “Same here, man.”

    I walked a little further to find Mario, our cook, sitting on a large rock.

    “Mario, I can’t thank you enough for that great meal. Considering where the hell we are, in the middle of nowhere, dinner was really good!”

    “Thanks, Nick. I appreciate that! As long as you all know that I can cook and keep everyone fed, I figure no one would be eager to vote me off too soon,” Mario joked.

    “Well, you have my vote, Mario!”

    I sat down next to him, trying not to crowd him. “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”

    “Hell yeah, as long as we don’t go crazy being out here for too long,” Mario offered. “By the way,” he began in a low voice, looking around. “Mark, Rod and Clint tried to get me into an alliance with them. They said the rest of you were fags, pagans and morons.”

    I had to laugh. “Well, that’s a new label for me, part of the fags, pagans and morons team. Which of us is doing the animal sacrifice at sunrise?” I teased.

    Mario laughed. “I know that you are gay. I’ve watched you and that kid Scott checking each other out.”

    “Does that bother you at all?” I asked.

    Mario grinned, still staring out over the water, shrugging his shoulders. “My brother is gay, and I love him, so what do you think?”

    “Thanks for that,” I mumbled under my breath.

    Mario turned to me, leaning in close. I could barely make out his facial features as the sky darkened. “After all, Nick. A man has needs, and since my girlfriend isn’t here, a blow job in the dark is still a blowjob, isn’t it?” Dumb I am not, and I don’t need to be clubbed over the head to catch his drift. I leaned in for a fast kiss. “Feel like getting sucked off right now, Mario?”

    In a flash, Mario was standing, undoing his shorts and pulling down his briefs before sitting back down on the rock. My hands caressed his firm shoulders and chest as I maneuvered in front of him. Lowering myself between his legs, I caressed the inside of his thighs, hearing him let out a low moan. “Been way too long,” he announced.

    His delicious cock was in my mouth, my tongue sliding up and down the underside, bringing him to his full erect size. Mario leaned back, one of his hands caressing my head as I worked his cock. Gaining friends and getting some fun at the same time. Not bad, I thought. I sneaked a peek to my left and right, but even in the dark, I could not discern anyone else’s presence. Mario must have been hard pressed for an orgasm, because it didn’t take long for me to get him off. With a low guttural rumble and a gasp, his cock stiffened in my mouth as he began to shoot. I dribbled his seed out of my mouth but made sure that he was drained completely.

    Mario pulled himself together, pulling back up his briefs and shorts before we parted. We determined that it would be best for him to go ahead of me, and I took the opportunity to take a quick dip in the ocean. I stripped naked and dove into the water, making sure to wipe my chin and shoulder free of any of Mario’s orgasmic evidence.

    My time in the water was amazing. Still possessing some of the warmth from the earlier tropical sunshine, the ocean felt really good. I splashed around for a while before heading back to the beach. I got dressed and walked back to our camp, seeing the fire our group maintained since we made supper.

    I arrived at my hut to the commotion of a message having been received from the show, signaling that it had begun. Our three cameramen/producers were hovering about, either observing conversation between the contestants, or drawing us apart for individual comments that we wished to make. I was happy to learn that the guys in the other group already referred to us as the pagans, which thrilled me, knowing that they were identifying themselves as the bad guys, already attacking us, for the benefit of the television audience.

    Mario and I shyly locked eyes for an instant, forcing him to blush at the thought of our brief encounter. We were also told that a contest was scheduled for the morning which would result in the elimination of two players. Mario, Scott, Denzel and I were all tired enough from our long day allowing us to relax easily. Despite beds made of palm leaves over the hard sand, we were soon dozing. Off in the distance, I could hear that loud-mouth Mark and the arrogant Rod already shouting orders to each other. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

    Morning came and breakfast was a repeat of dinner – rice, beans and fish. With cameramen in tow, we were led up a hill away from the beach to cleared zone looking like a soccer field with nets at each end, but combined with the elements of an obstacle course. The field was all sand, uneven, with hill, moats and small pools of water scattered about. Our host explained that this was an individual soccer game challenge, with two balls at a time at play, and we would score individually. With the two balls set in the middle of the field, we were placed on the sidelines, a whistle was blown and the game began. We all ran towards the center and Denzel and Clint were the first to take control of the balls and began their runs, over and around the obstacles.

    Mark made it a point to push and bump into me as often and aggressively as he could. I was able to hear Dick Summers announce our plays, and he made it a point to comment on Mark’s deliberate, aggressive behavior. I gave as good as I took, but was quite upset when Mark turned his sights on Scott, going after him even more aggressively. After about 40 minutes of play, a whistle was blown and the game ended. We were squired over to one corner and sat on the ground to be presented with the results. Denzel was the clear winner so he was safe, and then it was revealed that Clint, the biggest guy on the island had the lowest score and was eliminated.

    “We do have a change in results, however,” Dick Summers began. “Although Doctor Rod had the next lowest score, he will not be eliminated. Sounds of surprise echoed amongst the contestants. “Our on-site medical crew looked at Scott, who was injured when he collided with Mark and fell, tearing a ligament. It was determined that Scott cannot remain on the island; and instead will be airlifted from the island this afternoon for medical treatment.”

    With a loss from each hut, things were not improved as to any possible vote that night come about. Wandering back to the beach, I went over to Scott to check on him. He was sitting on a chair next to some of the other cameramen, who were not filming at the time.

    “That bastard Mark tripped me intentionally. I didn’t even have the ball,” Scott sneered.

    “That fucker,” was all I could say.

    “Just get him for me,” Scott pleaded.

    “He’s already my prime target. Don’t worry. Sorry to lose you though, Scott. I was hoping to spend more alone time with you,” I whispered with a dirty leer.

    Scott shot me a thumbs up as I returned to the beach and our hut, wanting to check in with Denzel and Mario. I told them about Scott and what he said, and we agreed that the first vote should target Mark. We were allowed to wander about the beach the rest of the day. We tried to straighten up our hut as best we can, considering that the tropical breezes kept blowing sand and leaves back inside. After that, we returned to the water to collect fish for supper.

    After dinner, as we three laid in the dark, we talked about our lives back home and what things we would do with the money if we won. We were then allowed a few days to rest.

    Sometime later, we were sitting around, looking out at the ocean. At one point, Mario moved closer to me.

    “Nick, I had a chance to talk to Virgil when I was cooking.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Virgil absolutely hates Mark and Rod. They’ve taken to ordering him around and practically made him their servant. He told me he saw Mark trip Scott without any reason. He’ll vote for Mark first chance he gets. We have to promise to get rid of Rod next.”

    “Consider it done. Tell him that,” I happily announced.

    The next morning, we woke to find a light warm rain falling. With Dick Summers and the cameramen around us, we were informed that today’s event was going to be a treasure hunt through the jungle which was about a mile down from the beach. The six of us would search for five medallions that would make us safe. The last player would be automatically eliminated.

    “And after dinner,” Dick added, “there would be a vote to eliminate one additional player. With three players from each hut, I knew that anything could happen. Our timing set, we were walked to the jungle area and the game began. We ran without plan, not even knowing what these medallions looked like.

    Suddenly I heard Denzel shouting. “I got one, I got one.”

    Still running and searching, I heard Doctor Rod, yelling, but he didn’t sound happy, so hopefully he hadn’t found a medallion. As I ran, I tripped and fell on a vine, falling and landing on my back. I looked up to see a small red chain and a coin the size of a silver dollar hanging on a branch over my head. I found one!

    Several minutes later, in quick succession I heard both Mark and Rod shout out that they had found their medallions. I made it a point to not announce mine, even though I had a cameraman following me and recording my fall and discovery.

    Mario was next with his medallion and a whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. I was disheartened to realize that it was Virgil who was without a medallion. Back in the clearing on the beach, it was confirmed that Virgil lost and would be leaving right away. We said our goodbyes. I was sad to see this decent guy leave us so soon. He certainly wasn’t my first choice.

    Our dinner ritual was repeated, but it was much quieter than normal. Mark and Rod kept themselves apart from Denzel, Mario and myself, occasionally looking over at us as they spoke in hushed tones.

    Nick, can I speak with you for a moment please?” Denzel asked, as he led me away from Mario.

    “Yeah Denny, what?” I looked back over my shoulder as I saw Rod walk over to Mario, who was still tending to the fire pit.

    “Can we go after Rod instead of Mark tonight?”

    “How come, Denny?”

    “When I found my medallion, that racist dog let loose a string of obscenities and profanities at me that I haven’t heard in years. He used every anti-black name he could think of. And Virgil told me that he was antigay as well,” Denzel offered.

    “Let’s talk to Mario. As long as we take out both of those bastards, I don’t care who is first,” I admitted.

    Denzel and I walked back to our hut, moving towards Mario, when the three cameramen and Dick Summers walked over to us. I gave Dick a grin but he quickly looked away. Before we even had a chance to look at Mario, we were each handed a card and a black marker and told to write down the name of the contestant we wanted to vote off. Holy fuck! We hadn’t talked to Mario about our changed plans, I thought in a panic.

    Figuring that Denzel was going with his new plan, I reluctantly wrote down Rod’s name. Our cards were collected as we were told to sit around the fire pit, the three cameras rolling, watching us for our expected reactions. Denzel’s card was read first.

    “Denzel picks Mark.”

    I shot Denzel a panicked look. “I went with the original plan not knowing if we would change it!” he announced, a look of surprise on his face.

    Mario’s card was read next.

    “Mario picks Denzel.”

    What? Oh my god. Rod must have talked Mario into turning against us, I realized.

    Mark’s and Rod’s cards were read next. They both picked Denzel as well. Denzel sat there shocked. My card with Rod’s name was shown, but the vote was clear. Denzel was asked to leave. We said our quick goodbyes as Denzel offered me a thumbs up and then shot a middle finger over at Mario.

    In our huts that night, I could hear laughing coming from Mark and Rod but silence pervaded my hut. Mario wouldn’t look at me.

    The silence was overwhelming. “What the hell could Rod have said to you to make you change your vote,” I finally asked quietly.

    Mario remained silent for a while before finally moving closer to me. “Rod said Denzel had gone to them to switch sides and you guys were planning on throwing me out.”

    “That’s ridiculous,” I responded.

    “That’s what I said,” Marion offered. “Until Rod pointed out that you two walked off without me to talk in hushed tones, looking back at me.”

    “Holy crap, Mario. Really? Denzel wanted to tell me that Rod was a racist and called him quite a few colorful phrases revealing his true colors, so to speak. We looked back watching Rod approaching YOU! We were about to ask you about our plan to see if we would switch our vote and get rid of Rod instead. Fuck!”

    Mario shrugged, moving back over and lying down, letting me know in no uncertain terms our conversation was over. Damn, damn , damn. I needed a new strategy. I thought and thought, hearing Mark and Rod laughing about their success over near the fire pit. We had the next few days to relax, just hanging around.

    A few days later, one evening after we ate, I rummaged through my duffle bag until I found what I needed and changed. I looked back over at Mario, who had have fallen asleep. I stood up and walked towards the sound of the surf, barely seeing where I was going but for brief reflections on the water from the fire, as I walked towards the ocean. I dove in, splashing noisily around for a little while and got out, being sure to tug down my red speedo bathing suit slightly lower than normal, exposing the top of my pubes. I walked directly to the hut where Rod and Mark were sitting, making sure to stand behind the fire so that they had a good glimpse of my wet, near-naked body.

    “What the fuck are you doing over here, you fag?” Mark called out.

    I chose to ignore the talking sphincter and put my hands on my hips, paying attention solely to Rod. “Congrats on a bold move, doc. I would never have guessed that such a move would work. It was brilliant.”

    “I doubted it would. I didn’t realize how stupid Mario is,” Mark added, trying to get into the conversation.

    I kept my eyes locked on Rod, watching him as he looked me over closely. “Just had to get rid of the black guy, that’s all. No hard feelings,” Rod offered in his defense.

    I stood quietly, shrugging my shoulders as I brought one of my hands to my bare wet chest, stroking my abs slowly and innocently. I watched Rod watch me. “Night boys,” I shouted out as I turned to leave.

    “You weren’t watching that gay weirdo, were ya, Rod?” I heard Mark asking.

    Heading back to my hut, I was grinning to myself.

    The next day, I remained in my red Speedos. With cameramen in tow, we were told to combine our huts into one large one. Again, Rod took the lead and I followed his directions with a friendly smile. As we were told to stack our things in one particular area, I made it a point to kick some of Mario’s things about, making his area appear much messier. Mark couldn’t yell at Mario fast enough, but I kept quiet and maintained my distance.

    With the new combined hut completed, the four of us were sweating profusely, so we needed a dip in the ocean. Rod was first to bail, stripping to his boxers and running to the water, diving head first into a large crashing wave. “I’m next,” I shouted, running in after Rod.

    “Well,” began an indignant Mark, if queer Nick is in the ocean, I’m not going. I’m sure I’ll catch some disease,” the ignorant bastard announced loudly. All the better, I thought. Swimming out towards Rod, I reached under the water and pulled down my Speedo, letting it fall off my body as I swam further out. Getting closer to Rod, I splashed about, diving under the water when he was watching me, making it a point to let my bare ass surface out of the water each time.

    “Water feels so good, doesn’t it?” I commented when I was close enough to be heard.

    “Um, yeah, sure,” he responded nervously.

    I continued to splash around, not trying to hide myself at all, even though most of me was under the water. I noticed that Rod was steering us into the more shallow area of the water. Whether he was trying to escape me or get me to be exposed in water that wasn’t as deep I wasn’t certain.

    “So, Nick, are you going to try to turn me against Mark?”

    “Nah, I have no reason to do that. Besides, I figure that our next event will be a challenge or contest of some sort, and Mark is the oldest one remaining.

    “But with all of his anti-gay comments and slurs,” Rod offered, revealing his surprise and curiosity.

    We were able to stand up in the water, which barely covered my crotch. My abs were now exposed. I looked back to shore and could see both Mario and Mark standing at the water’s edge watching us. I turned to face Rod, most of my bare ass facing the beach, putting a hand on Rod’s shoulder. “Listen Rod. I’ve learnt a thing or two in my life being gay. Those guys that yell the loudest about gay people, these guys who constantly focus on sexuality and orientation and gender, well, I don’t have to say more, do I?” I offered with a wink. ‘Keeping Mark around makes me happy. He is so curious, you know,” I offered with a wink.

    “Bullshit, I don’t believe you.”

    “I’m not saying a thing, Rod. I never kiss and tell,” I whispered as we both walked towards the beach.

    “You owe me a new swimming suit,” I called over to Rod, making sure the other guys heard me. As I got closer to Mark, he stepped away from me, his eyebrows high seeing me stark naked.

    “Mario,” I loudly announced, you should have jumped into the water. It was nice and hot, and refreshing too,” I said loudly. I looked back over my shoulder, heading for the hut to find some clothes, as saw Mario, Mark and Rod all heading off in different directions. This should keep them all wondering, I guessed.

    Back in the hut, I laid down, waiting for the show to announce what event we could next expect. Mario slinked back into the hut, looking around and finding both Mark and Rod gone. I knew that he wanted to talk, and was probably still hesitant since he turned against Denzel.

    “And?” he finally asked.

    “There going after you next,” I calmly stated.

    “What?”

    I could see the shock on his face from the lie I was feeding him.

    “Rod said that you couldn’t be trusted because you turned on Denzel so easily,” I added, shrugging my shoulders. “Sorry,” I added.

    It wasn’t long after that we had another contest for the game. With cameramen out in force, a race was set up along the beach. As we ran, different stations had to be completed; first completing a big jigsaw puzzle, then climbing though netting, and finally untangling rope knots. In the heat of the sun, the race was torturous, but my prediction was correct. Mark did have the most trouble keeping up and thankfully, lost. Our show host announced the results and on camera, we said our goodbyes. Mark was taken aback at the dirty looks he received from the three of us. And just for fun, I flashed him a quick wink before he turned away.

    That night, we had another tropical shower, as Mario, Rod and I lay quietly in our hut. Surprisingly, the rain added to the temperature and the humidity climbed. With cameras gone for the day, I stripped naked to go to sleep. Mario and Rod couldn’t help but look over at me, probably wishing that they were as brave to shed their clothes for the hot night. We were all restless, tossing and turning, as tomorrow was supposed to be our final day, with a winner determined by sunset.

    We made idle conversation about nothing in particular, until we thought we heard something outside in the dark. We listened carefully for a few moments, trying to determine who or what was out there. The rain stopped and we sat up, surprised when in walked Bob, my red-headed cameraman, another cameraman that I didn’t really know, and our show host, Dick Summers. The crew never come into our hut before, never venturing further than an on camera interview with our hut in the background. The two cameramen carried in their equipment before anything was turned on.

    Dick stood up at the door, looking us over. His short black hair, cut short, tried vainly to stay in place, despite the humidity. In a light blue buttoned shirt and a pair of jeans, his slim body screamed for release. Probably in his late thirties, his slight swimmer’s build hid his age well. I remember reading in the tabloids that he was dating some young starlet, and then dating another one a week later. But there never seemed to be any serious or long time girls on his arm. There were suspicions of course as to his sexuality. But here he was standing in front of me, with his gaze drifting a couple of times to me and my naked crotch. At this point, I didn’t feel the need to get dressed for anyone’s benefit.

    “Well, gentlemen, as this is your last night roughing it. We wanted to talk to you individually and try to get a little insight about each of you for when we do our full end of show interviews on camera,” Dick explained.

    “That sounds like a good idea,” offered Rod.

    Mario stood up. “So who goes with who?”

    “Sam, why don’t you take Mario outside somewhere and find a quiet corner to go over some questions,” Dick said, motioning to the other cameraman, who immediately smiled at Mario as they stepped outside.

    I looked over to Bob, giving him a hopeful smile, only to have it cut short. “I’ll take Rod here,” he said, as he led Rod out of our hut next.

    I remained seated on the floor, cross-legged, cock and balls hanging, waiting for Dick to speak.

    “Guess that leaves us, huh, Nicholas?”

    I stood up, giving my ball sack a quick scratch. I liked the sound of him calling me by my full name. It made things sound more serious for some reason. “Do you care if I don’t feel the need to grab some shorts, Dick?”

    “Your call,” he said, trying not to look down at my junk.

    We walked down the beach for a while, the moon poking through the clouds, lighting up the beach. Arriving at the same big rock on the beach where I first played with Mario, I sat down. I patted the rock next to me, motioning for Dick to sit down. “Its amazing out here, isn’t it?” I said.

    “It is one of the better locations we’ve used for our shows.”

    I sat quietly, looking out at the ocean, with the moon’s reflection dancing on the water. “I love swimming in these waters. The water is so warm and soft, if that makes any sense.”

    “The production schedule keeps me in this hot trailer on the other side of the island. I sweat like a pig most of the time and can’t do anything more than stare at the water,” Dick admitted.

    Turning to face him, I was very surprised. “You’re shitting me. That’s awful. To be so close and unable to enjoy it.”

    Dick shrugged. We remained silent a while longer until I stood up and pulled him up with me.

    “What?” he gasped in surprise.

    “Be quiet, you just lost your position of authority, if only for the moment.”

    I smiled broadly at him while my fingers quickly undid the buttons of his shirt. I pulled it open and slid it off over his shoulders. I was pleas that he kept himself in such good shape. With only moonlight assisting me, I could see some decent pecs and abs, covered in a light dusting of hair. He smiled back as a light tropical breeze wafted across his clammy skin.

    “That feels nice, but I shouldn’t be partially undressed.”

    “Partially, Dick?” I said with a laugh as my fingers busily went after his jeans, unsnapping them and pulling down the zipper. I dropped to a crouch and tugged off his loafers and socks while he put a hand on my shoulder to steady himself.

    “Oh Nick, you can’t. I shouldn’t,” he pleaded.

    I tugged down his pants, noticing that despite Dick’s please, he wasn’t stopping me. I looked up at him, his feet kicking off his jeans, and I reached up and pulled down his white BVD’s. He was nicely hung, and plumping up as he stood above me.

    “You stripped me faster than my wife does,” Dick commented.

    “Wife? What wife? I didn’t know you were married, Dick. What about all those tabloid girlfriends?”

    “My agent’s idea. All for image I’m afraid. And the wife was a college girlfriend. We rarely see each other,” he explained with a sad shrug.

    “So let’s get wet,” I shouted, grabbing him by the hand and dashing into the waves. We splashed and dove under the water, getting our heads wet. We both emerged a few feet out, still able to stand; the water level just coming to our armpits, our shoulders and heads above water.

    “Your right, this does feel amazing,” Dick admitted.

    “And even better skinny dipping,” I added, reaching over and giving his cock a quick pull.

    “Hey,” he shouted, surprised by my grope.

    I remained standing in place, closely facing him, a smirk on my face.

    “So it must be hard not having you wife strip you, while you’re out here in the Pacific without her,” I said, prodding for more information.

    Dick shrugged again. “She produces a show in England, while I’m mostly in California. We’re friends still, but it never worked out for us.”

    “Sorry to hear that, Dick. It must get lonely.”

    Dick just stared. “She has someone over there tickling her fancy.”

    “Damn, that’s awful,” I said as I took a step closer to him, our faces maybe a foot apart now. My hand reached out and cupped his balls, but he didn’t step back. “Don’t you have someone tickling your fancy these days, Dick?”

    I watched him take in a deep breath of air. “Not since I was in college. He was my roommate.”

    “So what happened?”

    Career came calling and a guy in my bed wouldn’t look good on my resume. So I got married instead. We were apart a month later.”

    “I imagine these days, that wouldn’t be the case, Dick.”

    He laughed. “It might even help it, to be honest.” Dick took the next step forward, looking deeply into my face.

    “Did you know we were planning to highlight you as the hero of the show, the good guy?”

    “Oh?” I innocently replied, planting a quick kiss on his lips, feeling his hard cock poke my belly.

    “Yeah. And once Bob told me how well your photo session went, well, I found you quite intriguing.

    “Intriguing?” I repeated, before opening my mouth for a much better kiss. Our arms coiled around each other, as we pulled ourselves closer, our mouths hungrily locked in some hot French kissing. We both moaned, our bodies enveloped by the warm tropical water. The heat emanating from our bodies grew.

    “Do you think we can try a quick fuck here in the ocean?” I whispered.

    “Always worth a try,” Dick whispered back. “Plus, I’ve always had an eye on that ass of yours, ever since you teased Rod in front of Mark. Brilliant move, by the way, after they blindsided you by voting off Denzel.”

    Our hug broke, I turned my back towards Dick, pushing my crack against his crotch. I rubbed up and down against his body, the warm water making us slick, and he pushed his cockhead against my hole.

    “Oh yeah, fill me up. That feels nice.”

    With a few more moves, I felt him pop inside me. The ocean water helped, but not as much as I hoped for. Dick wrapped his hands around my belly as he pushed again. I let out a light groan but being filled up more than compensated for the discomfort. His slow thrusts picked up speed, I howled in response.

    Dick reached around, finding my cock, beginning a slow stroke under the water. “Oh god, oh god,” I moaned, getting pleasurable sensations from both sides.

    “Shih, we don’t need an audience, especially the night before the final contest,” he warned.

    I loved being held so tightly, my back covered by his warm muscled chest. And then he came. Dick grunted, his face buried in my neck. I didn’t cum, but I was rock hard. I knew once the cooler air hit me, I was doomed to lose my hard-on and shrink anyway. But my ass felt so good, I didn’t care.

    Once we pulled apart, we walked to the beach hand in hand. My steps were wobbly, partly from the surf, but mostly walking bowlegged having been just plowed so completely. “That was nice, Dick.”

    “Thanks. It was, and I so needed that!”

    We found Dick’s clothes and he got dressed. I of course remained naked, and as expected, my erection was soon gone in the night air, just as expected. Turning to head back to the hut, I walked with a contented smile.

    “You owe me an orgasm, Dick.”

    He laughed. “I received a call from the coast yesterday.”

    “About what?” I asked.

    “Apparently, the ratings have been pretty good for the shows we’ve already aired, and the studio wants us to have a first place AND second place winner.”

    “No shit, that’s awesome. I hope racist Rod doesn’t win anything.

    “Oh really,” Dick said with a smirk. “So what were you saying about an orgasm a second ago?”

    I stopped walking. “I never came with you. I may lodge a complaint with the studio execs,” I teased.

    Dick smiled warmly at me. “Nicholas, I have a question to ask you first. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way,” he said rather cautiously.

    I remained quiet, waiting.

    “I’d like to look you up when we get back to California.”

    I was pleasantly surprised by his comment. I stood quietly, processing what he said. “Dick, you are sort of married. I don’t get into that scene. I am flattered though; I really am. I’ve watched how you managed the show, and treated everyone so kindly and respectfully. And you are a good fuck, for you age of course,” I teased. “But I don’t quite consider you available yet.”

    Dick laughed nervously, but the disappointment was clear on his face. “You’re right, Nicholas. “Life is too short, and I think I need to face facts and get the divorce I’ve been putting off for way too long.”

    “What facts, Dick?”

    “Well, the marriage is over. My wife lives with her boyfriend overseas. And secondly, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a woman anymore. She’s happily wrapped up in her career over there anyway. I need to do what’s right for me. And being with a man is what I want.”

    “Wow, that is news. And I have a career, too.”

    “But it’s a career and a life in California, not Europe. This season is the last for America’s Survival Reality Show. I want to do some executive producing of other shows keeping me mostly in California.”

    “Okay, Dick. Well, based on all of that, I would very much like to hear from you when this is all done.”

    A wider smile could not be found anywhere else on the planet except the one of Dick’s face at that moment. We walked back to the hut and I stepped inside, finally picking up a pair of shorts and slipping them on.

    “Gentlemen, tomorrow will be a big day, so get your rest. Thanks again for all of your efforts here,” he concluded, before throwing a dirty look in Rod’s direction. Mario and I talked a bit, as he described some of the questions he was asked.

    “Yeah, those were pretty much the same questions I got. How about you, Rod?”

    Rod grumbled, looking annoyed and not saying much more.

    “So are we having a contest, or a vote, or a game or challenge tomorrow?” I asked.

    “I don’t have a clue,” Mario offered. Rod said nothing, giving a shrug in our direction.

    Morning arrived with clear blue skies. A nice tropical breeze kept temperature and humidity to comfortable levels. With several cameras filming at once, Dick, dressed in suit and tie, welcomed us to the final show and thanked us profusely for our efforts during these last few weeks. They did go by quickly, I realized.

    Dick went on to inform us that due to an incredible response, the prize money was going to be handled differently, and the winner would receive three million and the runner up would get two million dollars. Apparently the rules required a five million dollar total payout, and that was still going to happen. With our odds increasing, no one was complaining.

    The rules for the day were announced next. We would run an obstacle course along the beach, to be followed by reconstructing a large cinder block puzzle, the pieces made of Styrofoam. Finishing times would determine the winner. We were separated and interviewed on camera, one at a time, by Dick. The interviews completed, we went back to the hut to relax for a few minutes. Shortly after we sat down, Bob came by and asked for Rod, who followed him out.

    I looked through my clothes and decided to change for the final event. I grabbed a see-through blue mesh shirt and put it on. I dropped my shorts and put on a black jock strap and a pair of short nylon running shorts. I thought a sexy look for my final appearance was appropriate, especially to show off for Dick. I thought about his invitation and was intrigued. He was cute, successful, and clearly established. The emotional maturity was also a plus, but that marriage issue concerned me. After all, talk is cheap.

    It wasn’t long before we were called outside. Rod was nowhere in sight.

    “Sadly, our popular Doctor Rod decided to resign from the competition and leave our show immediately,” Dick began, offering me a slight grin out of the corner of his mouth. “He felt his behavior and some of his inappropriate language towards another contestant rendered him unfit to properly represent this show. We certainly appreciate his integrity and wish him the best. With that out of the way, let’s get ready now for the final challenge between our two favorites, Mario and Nicholas. Gentlemen, we wish you the best of luck.”

    We were led to the starting line, and a brief moment later, the whistle blew and we were off. Running along the beach, holding even with Mario, I thought about my days on the beach and all that had transpired here. I was certainly ready to return to civilization and enjoy a good hot meal and a real shower. Then it hit me. Holy Fuck, I could do no worse than come in second as runner up, receiving two million dollars. Two million dollars! Even after the damn taxes peeled away a third, I would still have over a million and a half for myself. Quite a cushion for starting a new law office, I realized.

    The race path took us into the ocean a couple of times, not going any deeper than our waists, and my mesh shirt and nylon shorts proved invaluable, not soaking up any water to slow me down. I glanced over at Mario, whose cotton tee shirt and cotton shorts hung on him low, dripping wet and heavy. He tried to squeeze them as he ran, but it cost him time. I was safely out in front and rounding a turn, seeing the large Styrofoam blocks waiting to be assembled.

    I got to the blocks and sized them up, trying to see how they fit together. I moved them about in several combinations until I could see that they were supposed to form a large pyramid. Once I realized the larger pieces made up the base, it was clear sailing from there. I became aware Dick had been calling out our status and was practically screaming now, describing me finishing the puzzle and heading into the home stretch run. I looked back over my shoulder to see Mario arrive at the puzzle site as I began my final dash. Tears welled up, realizing I was not only going to win the grand prize, but also had a new potential man in my life. I ran like hell, seeing Dick and the cameramen and our hut on the beach, waiting before me.

    **

    Pushing my cart through the aisle of Whole Foods, I felt a tug at my sleeve. “Aren’t you that cute guy who won America’s Survival Reality Show?”

    “Yes ma’am. I am. I can’t believe you still remember, that was almost four months ago.

    “Well, you were my favorite,” the middle aged woman added. I thanked her and moved on. Gathering a few more items I needed to make dinner, I headed outside and smiled at the sun. I hopped into my white Jaguar and put the top down, smiling at one of the few toys I treated myself to with the winnings. I drove down the road, passing the building I almost rented for my law practice, and was glad to not have followed that path.

    Pulling into my driveway, I grabbed my two bags of food from the front passenger seat.

    “I’m home, babe! They had those mushrooms you like so much. What are you making?”

    “Doing stir fry tonight, Nicholas. Oh, by the way, you got that modelling contract for Andrew Christian underwear. Nice going.”

    “No way! That’s crazy that they want me!”

    Dick walked over, waving an email at me. “I told you the exposure from the show was priceless.” He leaned over and gave me a hug and kiss, taking the bags from me.

    Dick put the groceries on the counter. “Plus my ex said she had a Rolls Royce promotion coming together for you in England.”

    “That’s so nice of her. I can’t believe she wanted to do it after you told her about us.”

    “Hey, I told you she was already looking for an excuse to divorce so she could marry Reginald. I didn’t realize they were together for three years! Can you imagine?”

    “I hope she comes to the wedding.” I stood behind Dick, wrapping my hands around him, holding him tight. “I still want to go to a beach resort with you where we can fuck all day long and never get dressed.” I kissed his left ear sloppily.

    “When this latest project is over, we’ll take a honeymoon. It just may be before our wedding. I need one more month. Then I’m all yours, lover,” he cooed, slipping his hands under my shirt, caressing my belly, pulling the shirt off my chest. My only response was to peel off his shirt as well.

    “Are we going to fuck on the kitchen floor again?” I whispered.

    “Complaining?” Dick asked as he pushed down his shorts and briefs, exposing his already growing cock.

    “But the stir fry vegetables are watching,” I teased.

    “I thought you liked having an audience, Nicholas?” Dick said with a lascivious grin.

    “Now Dick, you know I have no interest of being a porno star!” I teased back.

    Dick leaned in for a big open mouthed kiss, our tongues dueling. I have a home video in the bedroom that says otherwise, you sex hound!” he said into my ear as I felt one of his fingers slowly invade my pleasure pit, trying to loosen me up.

    “You sex fiend,” I moaned as I lowered myself slowly to the kitchen floor.

    THE END

    Hello! I hope you enjoyed reading my story!

    If you have read this book online, and have the opportunity to review and/or rate this story, please feel free to do so at the website from which you obtained this book. Please give me the encouragement to write more stories! Thank you.

    Please look for these other erotic, romantic titles by P. J. Nevada:

    Doctor Jock: John Stevens, a hot and sexy university jock and long-term ladies’ man, needs some medical help with an injury and ailment. And he needs the help of buff Doctor Dave Richards, also a jock. But John is no fan of doctors, he thinks that they’re all nerdy and stuck up. John’s coach says he needs serious medical help. Can two jocks, both competitive by nature, work together? Can a macho man take it like a man?

    Detective Sam: Will Peterson comes home from work to find his apartment has been robbed. Sexy and buff Detective Sam is assigned to the case. He’s there to check out the situation and eventually checks out Will as well! With a nice slow seductive buildup to some really hot scenes, follow Will and Sam as they check things out and get into some mighty fine detective work. Cavity search anyone?

    Jake’s Story: Jake, a high school senior, is school jock and popular, but he really doesn’t have it all. Derek, an out-of-place geeky guy, is just as lost at school and in his life. Follow their story as they realize how much in common they have, which sets them apart from the rest of their school, or does it? This steamy and erotic gay romance offers you the insight into their struggles and triumphs.

    Cop Stop: Scott is a young man who puts everything into his career. One night, he has a run in with the law. The moment he is stopped by the highway patrolman on a dark lonely road, his destiny is forever changed. The event puts his future on a new and exciting course filled with romance, emotion, and of course, hot sex.

    Dirk & Bone: Dirk Petersen, macho college jock on the soccer team has it all figured out, with teammates enjoying his friendship and girls at his feet. Bone Jackson, on the other hand, is the oddball music geek who plays deejay at the local tavern as a part time job. As different as night and day, they somehow find common ground, and the fireworks soon erupt in this hot romantic tale.

    New Orleans Hustle: Meet Tristan, owner of a gay bar in New Orleans, trying to balance his love life with the issues of a running a popular bar. Having to deal with local police, street walkers and problematic employees, Tristan’s hectic and steamy life seems to be out of control sometimes. But with a little voodoo influence, his life may either explode or truly find the best love ever in this romantic erotic tale!

    Three Guys: Three college roommates, Roberto, Paul and Greg are the best friends. One boring weekend, they have the opportunity to get away from it all at a remote cabin in the woods. Soaked to the skin in an unexpected rainstorm, they are forced to spend time together before the warm glow of a fireplace. Being gay, straight and bisexual, their secret desires and fantasies soon come bubbling to the surface. Once the storm outside fades, and the sun returns, the three take their steamy action outside, where new relationships are forged.

    Rodeo Cowboy: Handsome city boy Zane, looking for adventure, finds himself in rural Montana enjoying the local rodeo. While watching a scene filled with buff studly men working their bodies with the bulls and the broncs, an accident knocks Zane out cold. He wakes to find Brody, the strapping muscular rodeo cowboy, looking over him. A slow friendship forms between the two, as they stay busy working and building up a sweat on Brody’s ranch. Can their budding relationship survive and flourish?

    Taking My Sister’s Husband: My sister married this hot guy named Jason. Since I was gay, I kept my distance from him, afraid I would jump him one day and ravish his sexy body. We were all friends in college but I didn’t want to hurt my sister. But the sexual chemistry between us just sizzled, and Jason soon felt it too! When push comes to shove, mother nature always wins out! Follow the emotional and arousing journey

    AND MANY OTHERS!

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  • Death in Manhattan

    “You don’t want to go in there.”

    “I know I don’t,” I said. But I pushed on past Lieutenant Kahn and entered the hotel room.

    I saw the young man who purported to be Matt Dent first. His body was huddled in the corner directly across the room from the entrance, crouched down and arms up as if he could protect himself from the vicious slashings of the knife. He, of course, could not.

    I barely glanced at the bed, knowing what I’d find–Brad spread-eagled and cuffed at all four points. I turned away and moved back out of the door. Blood. So much blood. I was amazed that the human body could contain so much.

    I was hyperventilating. Danny came out of the room and tried to fold me into his arms. I shrugged him off.

    “We were supposed to meet at 7:00,” I muttered. “I was with you at 7:00. If I’d been there–“

    “Then it would have been both of you like that,” Danny said. “It was a setup. You’d probably be dead now too if you’d made that meeting.”

    “Still,” I said. I couldn’t say anymore. I turned and fled to the elevators. I turned back around, waiting for the elevator, and saw Danny standing there, looking at me still. He had a pained look on his face. I couldn’t blame him. None of this was his fault. If he’d gone too–along with me–as backup, we probably would have managed. But we didn’t include him. We kept him in the dark.

    Outside the entrance of the hotel, I stood leaning up against the wall and took several heavy breaths, trying to get control of myself. I was looking wildly around the street, trying to find something to focus on, something that would stop my world from spinning.

    My eyes stopped on a figure standing across the street. My feet knew who it was before my brain did, and I started running toward him, dodging cars as I crossed the street. He turned to run, but stopped just long enough to not be able to melt away when I yelled the name “Wolfgang.”

    I cornered him in an alley. I saw the flash of light on metal as he drew a gun. But I was faster.

    It was a kill shot to the gut–but not one with immediate effect.

    “Who did it?” I demanded, as I crouched down over his body.

    He grimaced and looked up at me with a questioning look.

    “Yeah, you’re going to die, and I’m sorry I can’t make it more painful,” I answered, brutally. “Tell me who killed those men up there.”

    “When I left, Bruno was there. I’d done Stan, but not the cop. I just made sure he was all ready for Bruno. I did nothing but get him strung up.”

    “Stan? the guy we knew as Matt Dent?”

    He just groaned, but he didn’t contradict me. So, I went on. “Bruno? Bruno Meister? He’s here in New York?”

    It was useless to wait for an answer on that, though. Wolfgang was dead. I took out my cell phone and made the necessary call, and then I was on the move again.

    * * * *

    It wasn’t just Bruno I was after. There was something else. Brad had been working on something else. There had to be a reason why he and I had been targeted–why someone had gone to the effort to set us up with a fake brother of Marcus Dent and put us where we could be swept up and dealt with. There had to be someone in the department–someone who was threatened by our unauthorized investigation. It had to be someone who knew we were still snooping around a case that had been buried nearly two years ago. Someone who could get the case buried in the first place.

    Brad had been working on this. He had to have notes hidden somewhere. And it couldn’t be at his precinct office or even on his personal computers. It had to be somewhere well hidden. I knew where.

    I raced back to our apartment. As soon as I opened the door, I knew that I’d been right. The place had been tossed. Everything we owned was out on the floor and had been ripped to shreds. I didn’t care about that. That was good. They’d done me a favor. I could never live here again. I couldn’t use anything we’d ever shared again.

    I went into the kitchen, behind the island, and stooped down. The pots and pans had been pulled out of the cupboard under the island and were strewn around on the floor, but I felt around in back of that and was assured that the false backing was still there and in place. I grabbed a steak knife and started prying at the edges of the plank. I was sure Brad had had a more elegant way of getting his secret compartment open, but I didn’t have the time or patience to figure it out. I had to know.

    His notes were there. I quickly read through them and then picked up my cell phone and dialed a number.

    “Where are you, Clint? We found a body in the alley, just as you reported. Wolfgang, did you say?”

    “Yes, Lieutenant. He pulled a gun on me. I wanted him alive, but he didn’t give me a choice.”

    “Where are you?”

    “Brad’s apartment. It’s been ransacked, but I found what they were looking for. Lieutenant, the link. The missing link between the Meister gang and the police. It’s what Brad was working on–why he got killed. It’s Brad’s lieutenant, Chuck Steele.”

    “I’m not surprised. I’ve thought that for some time. You got evidence?”

    “Brad almost had it all together. There’s enough here to pin Steele down, I think.”

    “Stay right there. No going after him yourself. And, Clint, I know what Brad was to you. I’m putting you on leave. You’ve talked about going to Montana to fish. This is the time for that. Leave the cleanup to us here. You hear me?”

    “Yes, Lieutenant,” I hear you. Hearing him and following his instructions were two different things. I’m sure he knew that. I’m sure he realized that my mind was already locked on tracking Bruno Meister down.

    He was right about this not being the time to go after anyone, though. I was exhausted and completely played out. I sank to the floor and waited there until Lieutenant Kahn and other team members showed up, took possession of the notes Brad had compiled, and made a cursory effort to put the apartment back in order.

    “Don’t bother,” I said weakly. “I won’t stay here any longer. Just leave it.” Then I turned to the lieutenant and asked, “Where’s Danny?”

    “He’s gone home. He said you wouldn’t want to see him.”

    The lieutenant was diplomatic enough not to pursue that any further.

    Two hours later I was standing in the street outside Danny’s apartment. I had been standing there for more than an hour–fighting with myself. Not knowing what I wanted, and yet knowing.

    He answered the door in just his sleeping shorts. Magnificent as always.

    “You want to come in?”

    “Just hold me,” I murmured. “Yes, I want to come in, but just hold me.”

    “Whatever you want,” he answered.

    He knew, though, that I didn’t just want to be held. And he gave me what I needed most just then. I was so weak in the world of men. There was no denying that anymore. But I was a damn good detective. I couldn’t remain faithful to Brad, but I sure as hell could track down his killer and make him pay.

    [Note: This series continues with the already-posted Book Three, “Death on the Rhine.”]


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


  • The Russian

    Chapter 5 – Max Humiliation (Part 2)

    Evgeni pushed Max’s chair into the Dining room so he faced the table. He walked over to me a threw aside the jacket I was still using to cover up my naked body. Max looked away, but one of Evgeni’s friends turned his head back towards me. Evgeni led me to the table and layed me down on it.

    Here I am laying naked on the dining room table, 3 feet in front of Max. I was harder than ever. Evgeni fingered my asshole and I let out an unexpected moan. Max was watching me, but still his boxers laid flat. Evgeni stripped and began his work on me. His cock began pushing into me, and like the slutboy I am, I accepted it right in. In and out and in and out, I loved the feeling so full with Evgeni’s massive cock. I glanced over at Max and we made eye contact for a moment before he looked away. I looked at his boxer’s which still layed flat.

    Evgeni maneuvered my body so my head was lying towards the edge and he motioned for Vlad to fuck my face. Vlad did not hesitate. One dick was thrusting into my ass and another into my head as it hung off the table. They went at me like this for awhile before I finally heard one of of the Russian’s exclaim something. To my disappointment, Evgeni and Vlad stopped fucking me. I sat up to see what was going on and I should have guessed….Max was sitting in his chair, red-faced, and with an erection.

    “A deal is a deal” Evgeni said to Max.

    “Fine. Just get it over with”, Max replies angry and annoyed.

    Evgeni walks up to max and stands over his lap with his cock pressing against the side of Max’s face. Evgeni keeps rubbing the tip against Max’s lips but Max is not opening his mouth.

    “What’s the problem?” Evgeni asks.

    “It’s gross, I….”, Max shouldn’t have spoken because Evgeni took the opportunity to shove his cock in his mouth.

    Evgeni didn’t go easy on Max, and I watch amused. He was fucking his face so hard that Max’s chair actually started to fall backwards onto the ground. Evgeni just went with it and kept fucking Max’s face on the ground. He pulled out and jizzed on max’s face.

    “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”, Evgeni says almost out of breath.

    “No, just cut me loose now”, Max said sternly trying to blink away cum from his eye.

    “No no no. The deal was you give each of my friends a blowjob.”

    Vlad wasted no time. He jumped right into position on Max as he layed on the ground duck-taped to a chair. He began thrusting his huge cock into Max. When he was done, he did the same thing Evgeni did, pulled out and jizzed on Max’s face. Each other remaining 4 men did the same. By the time the last Russian was fuckign Max’s mouth, Max almost seemed to be enjoying it. That or trying to get it over with.

    “Alright cut me loose”, Max demanded.

    “I said all of my friends”, Evgeni replied calmly and looked over at me.

    A jolt of fear ran through me, “No, it’s ok. I don’t even want to.”

    Evegeni chuckled, “who rejects a blowjob?”

    “I’ve known him a long time, this would be weird”

    “No, what’s weird is him trespassing on my property and trying to video tape my personal life to blackmail me. That is what’s weird”, Evegeni looked at me with a slight anger in his eyes. “Besides, he looks to be enjoying himself.”

    I looked down at Max who’s face was just completely covered in cum. He looked up at me, “It’s ok Dan, help me get this over with.” He said it with a smirk. My god, I think he is actually enjoying it!

    “…alright”

    I didn’t like seeing him like that on the floor, so I titled his chair back up into the correct position. I stood in front of him, my boner pointing towards his face, and before I moved forward, his head reach out and began sucking my cock.

    AaaaaAAaaahhhhhHHHHHHH!!!

    Max isn’t even bad at this. I guess I am the 7th person he’s given a blowjob. He twists his neck while he sucks and slurps on my dick. I can’t believe how good he is at this. I guess I don’t  get blowjobs often. Michelle only does it once every blue moon.  I stand there looking at the ceiling in pure ecstasy. Max was sucking my cock, my oldest friend was giving me the greatest blowjob ever. Without even thinking I cummed into his mouth. He enthusiastically kept sucking until he got out every last drop.

    “See, was that so bad?”, Evgeni walks up behind me.

    I look down at Max, covered in cum and smirking, “No it was quite good actually”, I say.

    Evgeni cuts Max free, and throws him a towel to wipe his face with.

    “Thanks”, Max says, “…for the towel, I mean”

    “I never want to see you again”, Evgeni replies.

    Max starts walking towards the door, and I run up behind him, still naked. I didn’t know what to say though, but saying anything would be better than just watching him leave in silence.

    “We’ll talk later, okay?”, I say dumbly.

    He looked into my eyes in a way he’s never done before in the 15 years I’ve known him. “Yeah, ok”, he said before walking out the door.

    I turned around to see Evgeni staring at me. “Your friend is a slut boy too.”

    “What, no., I wave off the notion, “He is the farthest thing from it”

    “He enjoyed it, we all could tell”

    “He wanted to get it over with”, I rebuke.

    “Either way he better not show up here again”

    “He won’t.”


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


  • Venture Capital

    ** DISCLAIMER**

    The following story is a work of fiction. It contains bisexual themes of an erotic and explicit nature between adults and a 18 yo boy; if this offends you or is illegal for you to read, possess in electronic or printed form, please stop reading now. The views and opinions expressed by the characters are not necessarily those of the author.

    It is illegal for this document to be copied in any manner (paper/electronic), except for the enjoyment of the individual reader, or hosted on other websites, published, or be altered, changed, or utilized, without the expressed written consent of the author. The characters and the surrounding story in this work are the sole intellectual property of the author. Unprotected sexual acts are depicted — if you choose to have unprotected sex, be aware of all the possible risks for both you and your partner, making sure your partner (partners) are informed, and be disease free and HIV negative. Rapid testing is great but nothing is 100%.

    COPYRIGHT 2015; All rights reserved.

    ***** AUTHOR’S NOTE *****

    I am writing this story from the perspective of a 18 year old boy, Carson, discovering what it is to be … bisexual. In the process he finds love.

    This chapter is written from the perspective of Carson.

    I use “————–” to indicate the passage of time, as necessary.

    Tyler

    ** NOTIFICATIONS LIST ***

    For those of you who want to be notified when my stories are released,

    send an e-mail to [email protected] indicating you want to BE ON THE LIST — I will send you a pdf version when I submit.

    **** IMAGES OF KEY CHARACTERS ****

    I have IMAGES of all of the characters. I am happy to email them, should anyone want a ‘visual’ — please put “RE and the story name – NEED PICS for VENTURE CAPITAL” in the subject line.

    ====>> I have NEW images associated with this chapter.

    Realize, however, that I used them as a basis only.

    I know some people are visual, where others prefer a narrative, and still others are a confluence of the two.

    Tyler

    Venture Capital – Chapter 5

    Sam and I had breakfast every morning, talking about various aspects of the upcoming project. I practiced some things, seeing what worked and what didn’t; the more time I spent, the more I was into things. Sam encouraged my relationship with Adam; although we continued to make love once a week. One morning, dad walked into my office to discuss some briefs … it was hot feeling Sam leak from me as we talked.

    Diedra and I continued to date, although my heart was really … well, elsewhere. Sometimes I’d be eating her out, trying some new moves; all the while Adam’s load was churning around inside me. I couldn’t stay the night at Diedra’s; her mom was already suspicious that we were ‘doing it’; we often had to sneak around.

    Whoa, had a big scare when Diedra missed a period; she changed pills and that hasn’t happened again.

    We decided, no wrappers; it was more, well, natural. The feel of her wetness hugging me … awesome; watching my juice seep from her after sex, wickedly awesome.

    ————————————————————————————-

    It was early summer; evening. I had spent most of the day with Adam; he was looking for an apartment. He had to be out of the frat house the week before the semester started, mid-August.

    We sat drinking Vodka tonics, as I told him about Sam’s project. He listened intently, asking a few pointed questions about venture capital, in particular angel investment. One question was, I guess, more pragmatic than the others: How do you see this positioned, long term?

    I really had to think about that one.

    “I’m not sure, babe,” I thought for a bit, “really,” shaking my head, “not sure,”

    “Well,” he slipped behind me, arms wrapping around my belly, “you have time, so consider it carefully,” he paused, his fingers slipped through mine, “you know I’ll support you in anything you choose,”

    “Yeah, I know,” I looked up at Adam, “but it’s not just me,” I paused, our eyes locking, “it’s us,”

    “Yeah, babe, I know and I’m thinking as us,”.

    Adam made another round of drinks. We sat in the big room, near the mantle; the cavernous room looking in; Adam’s arms around me, our toes playing in one another’s. I liked him all around me.

    “You good?” I turned my head around looking into Adam’s eyes, his twinkled back.

    “Yeah, way good,”

    “I love you babe,” his lips nibbled my neck, “so much,”

    “Love you,” leaning my head against his.

    ————————————————————————————

    Sam had a meeting; Thursday was turning out to be a busy day. Briefs were due at noon in New York, so I was at the Firm at 5 am so the final drafts would be ready for his review at 8. I filed everything electronically at 10:52. I was stepping out of Sam’s office after placing the receipt on his desk.

    “Hi Carson,” I looked up and there was Anna. She was wearing a dark blue linen skirt, tanned legs shimmering. Two upper buttons open, a silk blouse subtly drawing me to cleavage; the contour of her nipples pushing through a low cut laced bra. A smartly brimmed linen hat accentuated her delicate face.

    My cock swelled; I turned slightly, hiding it.

    “Hi Mrs. Peterson,” my mouth on the verge of parched,

    “Carson, please … call me Anna,” she put her hand on my arm, her perfume pressing softly against my nose.

    “I’m sorry,” I wet my lips a little, “Anna,”

    “I was looking for Sam. I was just out shopping and thought I’d take him to lunch,”

    “Oh, sorry Anna, Sam is scheduled to lunch with my dad and Emerson Fields,”

    “Ah, yes, Sam did mention that to me,” following me to my desk, “the Field’s account is, uh, growing now, isn’t it?”

    I smiled, “Yeah, quite a bit,”

    Anna sat in a chair next to my desk, crossing her legs. Her delicate feet wrapped in thin supple leather; I quickly shuffled some papers, straightening up my desk a little.

    “Well Carson, I guess it’s just you and me,”

    “huh?”

    “Since Sam is out, I think it only appropriate to extend the offer to his intern,” she smiled, pulling a strand of blond hair aside.

    I looked around my desk, absently checking my ‘to do’ list; a small tremor exposing my nervousness.

    “Well,” I said, “guess that would be cool, as long as I’m back before Sam,”

    “I guarantee it Carson,” she said; standing, arranging her blouse as her lips smoothed lipstick, then picked up her bag.

    Anna led the way, her scent … well, dope.

    We entered the parking garage; chirp and blink showing our direction. I opened the door, sinking down into the soft tan leather of the S65 AMG; shiny burlwood, new leather smell all around. The purr of the car under us as we zoomed out of the garage; soft music in the background, Anna’s scent drifting through the air.

    We drove into the country club, pulling up to the clubhouse. I rushed to get the door, following her lines as she entered the restaurant. The maître d’ put us at a small quiet corner table, next to an ornate wood pillar; the window gave unobstructed views of the fairway.

    “How are things Carson?” her voice lyrical,

    “Very good,” I hesitated just a bit, “Anna,” She smiled, knowing I just remembered to say her name. “I’m learning a lot. Sam is a very good teacher,”

    “Yes he is Carson, one of the best,” she dropping a lemon slice into her water, “that’s how we met you know,”

    I shook my head, “Didn’t know that,” arching an eyebrow, “so, are you an attorney too?”

    Anna laughed, her smile beaming through me, “No, a paralegal. When Sam and I met, I was working in a different firm,” she laughed again, “an intern, actually”. Her dimples sent shivers through my balls.

    “So, things progressed, and, ” she gestured with her hand, “Voi-la!”

    “Nice,” looking at her over the rim of my water glass. Our eyes met, hers lingered … deep blue, eyelashes thick, lush.

    “Yes, quite nice, Carson. It has been ten years,” lingering, ” feels like our first,”. “Sam’s a really good person, Carson, one of the best,”

    “Yeah,” I nodded, “he is very special,” my eyes drifted to the fairway, watching an older gentleman line up then make his drive. Good form, well executed. My eyes drifted back, her eyes still on me.

    “He has a lot of respect for you Carson,” she took another sip, “and knowing your parents as closely as we do, it is no surprise,”. Anna put her glass down, placing her hand on my forearm, “You come from a long line of successful people; people who know what they want, and do everything to achieve their goals,”.

    Tapping on my forearm, “You excel in sports, academics, and from what Sam has told me, will make a stellar attorney,”.

    I blushed. Anna’s soft fingers, electric on my skin.

    “Thank you Anna,”.

    We ate lunch; Anna had me back at my desk five minutes before dad and Sam walked in.

    ————————————————————————————–

    I saw Anna a lot at the office; becoming far more comfortable around her. We ate lunch several times a week; Sam only joined us once. I was enjoying her company … I mean, a lot … I know Anna did mine. She was quickly becoming a close friend.

    It was Wednesday. Breakfast as usual. Sam was timing the project; he told me there was a certain window of opportunity. I had prepared everything at the bank, following his instructions to the ‘T’. I gave him the deposit information; he carefully looked it over, turning to me.

    “Nice, very nice indeed,”

    I smiled. It was nice getting a pat on the back from him; really nice.

    “Carson, there is a small change,”

    Sam reviewed the changes.

    “Small change my ass!” I looked at Sam, eyes widening. I began to have doubts, serious doubts.

    Sam told me that there was no need to worry.

    I wasn’t so sure.

    I sat there, mulling everything over … part terrified … part galvanized. Sam let me mull, looking up from his omelet occasionally. Finally his eyebrows arched. I nodded. He smiled.

    “Good, then I will let our principal know we have a deal,”

    As we were leaving for the office, Sam put his arm around me hugging me close.

    “I’m glad your onboard kiddo,”

    I leaned into him, “yeah”

    ————————————————————————————-

    The hot water beat against my back, suds slipping down the drain. It had been a long week. Diedra left Wednesday with her family to see her grandparents on the Coast. Adam and I had dinner last night; he, reassuring. I stood letting the heat totally relax me. I was committed now; things would be dope or doom.

    I put on a pair of navy low rise drawstring warmups, deciding to free ball; red shirt; flip flops. Dad was out of town with Sam until tomorrow night; mom was at a baby shower. I walked downstairs, saying “bye” to three of my brothers; doubt they ‘heard’ me. I left a note on the fridge letting mom know I’d be back in the morning. I drove through Ann Arbor, the sun receding.

    ———————–

    I rang the bell; the door, ornate; lights inside … rainbows through the leaded glass. My stomach, sinking.

    The door opened.

    Now, totally sure.

    “Hi Cars,”

    I stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind me.

    “Day good?”

    “Yes, yours?”

    “Unbelievably good,”

    I followed, through a hallway to the kitchen.

    “Champagne?”

    “I thought we’d set the mood,”

    “I like mood,” cock engorged.

    I watched as Anna poured two flues; a dark blue negligee defined the contours of her body … her scent lingering in the air.

    What a rocket! A major, major rocket!!

    I walked behind, fingers slowly moving around her … fine silk intimately separating us. My cock pushed firmly against the small of her back; her ass gently pushing back. I smelled her hair … sweetness.

    We parted, Anna turned, fingers slipping through my hair as she handed me a flue,

    “To us,” I saluted,

    “To us,” her eyes flirting,

    We sipped champagne, Anna pressed against me; my excitement, hard, between us … Awesome … fingers sliding down, following her curves, grazing her nipple … I couldn’t help the small shiver going through my body.

    Anna leaned in, the soft fullness of her lip lightly on mine … a surge of prenut tingled through my shaft; we kissed, eyes closed … then again; her finger tracing the outline of my chest … electricity. Her toe sneaking under my foot; flip-flop pushed away, then, the other one. Champagne foaming on my tongue, as Anna’s toes slowly slipped along my ankle, faintly pushing though my hairs … delicate.

    Anna’s finger slowly undid each button of my shirt, tracing my abdomen; lingering on my navel. Awesomely awesome.

    Our lips locked, my tongue slipped through, exploring … Anna moaning softly, her finger now tracing the angle of my jaw. Wetness seeped through, warmly against her; cock, throbbing; her tongue responding, dancing on mine.

    I held the softness of her ass checks, cupping each in my hands; slowly, grinding into her, pushing my hardness along her cleft,

    “Anna,” I whispered, she moaning a response. My fingers slid up into the small of her back, she arched forward, pushing into me. I kissed along the softness of her cheek … nibbling down, following her neck … inhaling; nose imperceptibly tracing down, lips brushing against the form of her nipple, it’s erect pillar … tightening,

    “aaah,” her breath released.

    I continued, my tongue quickly flicking along her cleavage, then, lips softly on her nipple; lazily moving up the other side … warm breath on her neck. Anna shivered, her hands gripping the back of my head.

    I stood, kissing her lightly; eyes, looking into each other. Enjoying the feel of each other; sneaking peaks between deep kisses.

    I took our flues, setting them on the counter.

    Anna’s fingers slipped through mine … following, as she led me upstairs.

    Anna sat on the bed, I stood; her fingers tracing my hardness … releasing the string on my warm ups; cock slowly freed. I felt the warm ups drop around my ankles; balls hanging low, meat throbbing. A pulse of prenut pushed through, drooling out my slit. Anna scooped it in her finger, wiping it on her tongue, licking her finger … teasing; eyes locked in mine … fucking hot!

    I moved forward, she scooted up on the bed; I climbed up, my leg between hers … hands by her knee, separating her; fingers gently gliding up the inside of her legs; her negligee pushed up, exposing … sweetness. I pushed her legs apart with mine, looking deep into her as I grazed my cock head … wetness seeping over her pussy lips; eyes locked into hers.

    I pulled her up, our lips merged; her taste sweet, as I kissed her; the fine bands of her negligee slipping off her shoulders, my hands slowly exploring her breasts, softly tweaking her nipples, lips sucking. She arched her back, I slipped the negligee down, its silkiness flowing along her skin, gliding over her toes. I held it to my nose, lingering, smelling her, then with a smile, throwing it behind us. She, laughing as it hit the wall then slid into a heap.

    I hovered, heat vibrating between us; the tip of my cock head spitting, spraying her. Our lips met, tongues swirling.

    Unbelievable sweetness.

    I slid down, her legs separating. I brushed my cheek along her knee, flicking my tongue underneath, then … slowly up the inner part of Anna’s thigh, her smell … chouette … staring under the small of the other knee, easing up inner thigh, lips, stopping, to explore … silky full bush tickled my cheek.

    I flicked my tongue at the top of her slit … Anna arching her hips, moaning softly. Tongue dipped along the outer fold of her opening, slithering down then up the other side; a drop of dew oozed from between her labia; my tongue lightly swirling through, lapping … tasting her. I arched up, cock throbbing above her … a pulse pushed through the shaft, slit separating … a fine mist coating her moistness. I hovered, cock head pulsing as it gently caressed her; pussy lips rippling with anticipation.

    I hovered … tongue flicking each nipple; my bush resting in her wetness. I kissed her … then, again.

    Pure sweetness.

    I descended, skimming over her; my arms sliding under her knees, pushing her legs up. Exposed … Anna’s nectar drooling out, her pussy lips glistening … wetness. The tip of my tongue slowly teased in, wiggling as ascended toward her clit … nectar bathing my buds, her sweetness, mine. Above me, soft moans, mumbling my name.

    My lips slowly, gently sucked on her pussy lips; I moaned into her; Anna’s legs quivered. Deep moans into her; legs, shaking. I stiffened my tongue, ever so slowly pushing inside, then, twisting back and forth … Anna writhing under me … her moistness pooling; creamy nectar.

    Cock, raging … needing … wanting.

    I pushed my tongue onto the hardness of her clit.

    “Ahhh Carson, yes!” tongue swirling around; clit jumping, fully erect.

    “ohmygod   oh    oh    ohmygod,    oh    oh Carson!     YES     YES!!!!”

    gentle sucks … clit dancing … gentle sucks. clit jumping,

    “carss ohmhgod oh yesssss, fuck yessss, ohmyGODDDDD” she screamed as my sucking increased,

    “Yesss   yessss   yessss,” Anna’s clit seized … squirtingsquirtingsquirting; my lips softly clamping around … her legs jumping … the tang of her orgasm exploding over my tongue; Anna’s essence gushing into me.

    I want her, need her!

    I rose, sliding along the silky smoothness of her skin; her breasts, soft, cushioning me. I lowered myself, our lips interlocked … tongues dancing … heat surging between us; sweat tricking down my back, between my ass cheeks. My balls, heavy, low in their sac … cock, throbbing. Our heartbeats, jumping.

    “I need you,” I whispered over her, Anna nodding her ascent, “I want you,”

    “Yes,” she panted, “I want you,”

    I raised Anna’s legs, her moistness beading on the heat of my head.

    Slowly I lowered myself, cock head penetrating; the tightness of her cunt closing around me.

    Slowly, very slowly I began to take her … throbbing moistness gripping around me … pulses of prenut pushed through my shaft, spraying into her as I advanced,

    Anna’s cunt … tightness; sucking … pulling me … deeper.

    Finally, my balls slid underneath her, dripping with her nectar; Anna contracting around my cock, hips gyrating, massaging me.

    I arched, pushing up in her,

    “aaaahh,” she breathed, “fuck me,  p l e e z z e       f u c k     m e !”

    I slowly slid back, cunt gripping me, until … just the tip was inside … then, arching, I plunged deep, twisting around inside her, my cock arching, pulling up inside her,

    “ahhhh fuck!” she screamed, her head flexing toward me,

    Slowly I slid back, cunt gripping, until … just the tip … then, arching, plunged deep, twisting around inside, then lifting. Sliding, then plunging. Twisting around, lifting. Sliding, then plunging. Twisting around, lifting.

    Anna’s pants and moans resonated between the pillows, skin moist, as I began to fuck her.

    Sliding, then plunging, lefting. Sliding, then plunging, lifting. Sliding, then plunging, lifting. Tight wetness slurpily sucked around my shaft. Sliding, plunging, lifting … sliding, plunging, lifting …

    Wet ‘whaOOMP’s‘ clashing on the headboard interwoven with our moans.

    Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge.

    Me, arching into Anna, twisting around … pulling on her clit, over and over and over,

    Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge. Slide, plunge.

    Intensity, feral; rabidly taking Anna.

    Our moans … louder and louder; deep throbbing pressure building inside … balls pulling up, shaft expanding, cock head flaring … my hands drawing Anna’s legs tightly around my neck,

    “AAAAAAAWWWWWWWWW,” load rushing through my shaft, slit flaring, as a torrent of nut deep,

    WOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHHHH     nut rocketing into Anna, pushing her cunt walls apart,

    WWOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHHHH    seed rushing into her, gurgling around my shaft,

    “AWWW,” I moaned, chest heaving, my ass clenching then relaxing,

    WOOOOOOOSSSSHHH    rushing in,

    Anna’s cunt clamped around me, her hips seizing, body shaking, as she climaxed again … cunt wringing shaft,

    ‘WOOOSH’ ‘WOOOSH’

    “Uh, I’m still cumming,” my voice puffs of breath, “still cumming baby … uhhh”, Anna climaxing simultaneously underneath me,

    “Yessss    Yessss    Yessss,    ohmy   ohmygod” her clit spraying,

    whoosh

    woo sh h h h     nut now oozing; my prostate milking the last drops into her.

    I lay on Anna, cock remaining hard inside her for a while; her cunt massaging me … lips nibbling hers, she nibbling back … my seed settling deep; clitoris recovering.

    The fragrance of our union, heavy … Anna in my arms; my cock slowly softening, slipping from her moist heat.

    Anna placed a pillow under her, arching her pelvis up. I nestled in beside, pulling the sheets over us. We lay, softly kissing …

    my hand gently rubbing her belly … as well fell asleep.


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


  • GibTown Grabber

    based on a fictional account from the deep depths of my imagination

    “This is it? This is where…where he lives?”

    I nod my head, ‘yes’.

    We are driving down from Tampa on the Tamiami Trail, early this Saturday morning. This is where this man, this high-strung reporter, seated next to me, stirs restlessly, in the passenger side of my car, waiting impatiently and fidgety as we travel to our appointed destination.

    I see the etchings of doubt, laced, on his youthful face. When I told him I could give him a spectacular story, he didn’t believe me, he laughed, quite loudly over the phone, over what I had for him. Of course, his doubt didn’t stifle his inherent curiosity, his investigative streak or his eventual arrival at my house. He was intrigued, just as I was when I first saw the man, whose home we are on our way to.

    “Yep,” I answer him as we pass by the tilting, bullet-laden city limit sign that leads us into the town of Gibsonton, Florida on US 41.

    “There are bullet holes riddled on that sign,” the reporter says to me with a startled look on his young face, as he looks back, anxiously through the rear window of my car.

    I smile, awkwardly, I know those holes, unnerve him. They do so to me too.

    “So this is where ‘the Grabber’ lives?”

    He asks me, again.

    “Yep, he prefers, ‘the GibTown Grabber, though,” I say.

    “GibTown?” he asks.

    “GibTown, “I say, “You know, for Gibsonton.”

    “OH! It looks like a damned redneck backwater shithole, that you hear so much about that dot the South,” he says, with a winched detestable expression on his haggard looking face, “Are you sure this guy is for real?”

    I nod my head, ‘yes’.

    The man is real. I can assure him but he must see so for himself, I cannot convince him without his own eyes locking their gaze on the man, we are to see.

    US 41 or more precisely, Gibsonton, has strings of ragtag buildings, closed businesses, and houses in need of much-needed repair and many, many neglected and tumbling, ramshackle rusted trailers with falling down porches and discarded vehicles up on cinder blocks in their front yards. The failing economy has hit this backwater, south of the metropolitan Tampa area, hard.

    “This is the carny town, I told you about. This town has a unique situation when you called me wanting to do a feature story on something particular and special…odd,” I tell him.

    “Is it true?” he asks, “what you told me, is it really true?”

    I nod my head again, hearing him doubt the authenticity of my story.

    “Yes, it’s true,” I answer him.

    “This is where that sideshow performer was murdered, too, wasn’t it?”

    Yeah, The Lobster Boy murder, this is where that happened back in the 1990’s,” I tell him.

    “Oh?” he says, puzzled.

    I had told him of this on one of our many phone conversations.

    “So this town is filled with those labeled as ‘freaks’?”

    I nod my head, repeatedly. This guy appears to have a remembrance issue, I have told him that too. I have told him, all of this. How can you call yourself a newspaperman and have a problem remembering the simple facts.

    We turn down Phillips Avenue and grow closer to our appointed task.

    “I hope we do not have far much further to go, I am melting in this Florida heat,” the reporter says as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

    The man’s button-down shirt is opened to the fourth button revealing a muscular defined and hairy chest, a man ripe into his youthful masculinity.

    I told him to dress-down, dress comfortable, as it gets quite humid down here, he insisted on wearing long khaki’s and a button-down shirt, minus a tie. He is drenched in his own perspiration but I warned him. He did not listen. He had never been to Florida before and did not understand the humidity in such a tropical climate.

    “We’re here,” I say as I pull into an empty lot, located next to a chain link fence, covered by rough-hewn lattes of pine, with the bark still on the hand-sawed planks attached by wire to the fence.

    “OH SHIT!”

    The reporter says, rather loudly, when he sees the white trash way the fence is concealed.

    He looks over at me.

    I am sure the bullet-riddled sign and the dilapidated state of disrepair of the town as we passed through it and into it, is the reason for his obvious leeriness.

    “Is this safe?” he asks me, with noticeable air of caution in his cracking voice.

    “It is safe, “I say, “Once we get behind the fence, you will better, awright.”

    “Okay, I trust you,” the reporter says but I do not believe him, his face shows his obvious hesitance.

    As we both get out of the car, he, the green-horned reporter, sees the sign, hanging loosely from a rope looped through one of the pine tree lattes of the rickety fence.

    It reads:

    NO CLOTHING BEYOND THIS POINT

    “OH SHIT,” the young man says as his eyes grapple with the intent of the message on the sign.

    He looks at me, with noticeable stress on his face, more obvious than the previous one he had in the car.

    “This isn’t serious, I hope,” the kid-reporter says as he adjusts his packaged cock in his khaki’s.

    “I’m afraid, it is,” I tell him.

    “He’s going to expect me to strip down to my underwear?” he asks.

    “NO! You will be completely naked,” I say, “It is a rule for all men who to call on him, for whatever reason.”

    I get another leering stare from him, as he rolls my words around in his scholarly head.

    “He will not tell you his story unless you are naked,” I say, “…but I figured if I told you that, you wouldn’t have come. Would you?”

    He does not answer me, he just goes over me with one of those ‘fine-toothed comb’ looks.

    “Let’s go get this interview,” he says.

    I go around him and hit the buzzer, located at the gate on this side of the fence.

    “Marty, it’s me with that reporter-kid I told you about,” I talk into the intercom.

    The gate buzzes and we usher ourselves into the private residence. We step from the dirt of the empty lot to a homemade sidewalk, which leads directly to a front screened-in porch on a large doublewide mobile home.

    “A trailer, why am I not surprised?” the youthful reporter says as we take a couple of steps on the roughly fashioned cement walk, “at least it’s neat.”

    “Yep,” I answer back.

    “I AM AROUND BACK,” a shout comes loudly from the back of the mobile home, “COME BACK HERE.”

    I look back at the kid.

    “Follow me, kid. I hope you are ready for this?” I say.

    He looks at me with an awed, stunned expression on his virginal-looking face or maybe it’s ‘the deer in his headlights’ look, anyway, he is anxious.

    We step from the concrete to the soft lush green grass of the yard, dodging a birdbath, a large enamel-claw foot tub, filled with daisies and other assorted plants.

    The young man shakes his shaggy longhaired head, his locks whip around, fanning in a clean sweep, as he surveys the decorated yard of what I am sure, he thinks he is an uneducated hick. The man would be wrong but he will find out for himself.

    He lugs his side-strapped bag over his shoulder. It holds his equipment to hold this interview, to gather what he needs to pen his feature story.

    The young man’s khaki pants are wet, the crack of his ass, has a damp trail from the small of his back to the underside of his solid brown pants. The kid is sweating up a storm. I told him it was humid-hot and to dress cool.

    We come to the back of the trailer and Marty is sitting on a wooden latticed patio-porch, around a table with several chairs, he is naked above the waist with a large colorful beach towel draped over his slim waist, concealing his midsection, although a noticeably hairy treasure trail leads from his bellybutton to the top of the towel. His cock is unseen. There is a longneck bottle of beer on the table, sweating and releasing its moisture to the hot Florida air. In addition, there on the table, are two plush beach towels, neatly folded. I can guess they are for the kid-reporter and me.

    “This, the kid, who wants to talk to me,” Marty says as he sees the young reporter and me.

    “Yeah, I am,” the reporter, answers him. Fully aware of the attitude directed at him by the partially covered man, acting as if he is not here. He extends his hand to shake the seated man’s hand but then pulls back and tucks it against his leg.

    “You know the drill,” Marty says, “get naked or no interview.”

    The kid looks over at me as I slowly pull the tee I am wearing over my head, while my baseball cap falls to the grass-covered earth.

    “Leave it there, Mark,” Marty says, “don’t pick it up.”

    Marty leers at the young reporter before he harshly speaks to the kid.

    “Whatcha waitin’ for, boy, get your damned ass, naked, or you get NO interview,” Marty’s words sound of disgust and anger but they are come-by, rightfully, he is angry, justifiably. His anger comes from the many years of deference that been directed at him because of his unique circumstance.

    The kid brings his side-bag from over his weighted down shoulder, placing it on the corner of the patio, leaning it up against the leg of the table.

    I drop my shorts and I am naked. I am underwear-less, since I do not possess any.

    The warm air feels good on my naked flesh as I stand under the bright sunshine of the Florida clear-blue sky. I reach and fondle my cock and massage my balls. I like being naked. I run my hand across my moderately hairy chest, feeling my nipples react to the harsh summer heat.

    The kid looks at me as he unbuttons his green plaid shirt, the buttons are unfurled slowly before he yanks the shirt from his youthful masculine hairy body. He is muscular, in his prime, our conveyance of chest hair is almost virtually identical. He squints under the light of the summer Florida sun as the light bounces off the side of Marty’s two-toned blue and white painted doublewide.

    “STOP!” Marty yells at the kid.

    “WHAT?” the kid shocked by the verbose order, stops his undressing as he unbuckles his belt from his pants, letting it part his unsnapped slacks, revealing the underwear underneath, a pair of red bikini, snuggly packed, briefs.

    “You undress him, Mark, take the pants off the kid,” Marty looks at me, as he demands I do his bidding.

    “HEY! I can undress myself,” the kid responds, further adding to the hesitation that is already apparently welled-up in the lad.

    “If you want this interview, you will let Mark finish up with your disrobing,” Marty smiles as he knows the kid will do it. He runs his hand through his sweat-soaked matted hair, tweaking his nipples with his fingertips of his right hand. They stiffen among his caressing touch.

    Marty is accustomed to getting what he wants.

    I walk to him, feeling my cock hit either side of my thighs. With each ricocheting action, I feel my cock; begin to stiffen in its resolve.

    “What’s your name, kid?” Marty asks as I grab either side of the kid’s pants, yanking them and his underwear down in one swift motion.

    “My name is Pete, Pete Reynolds,” the reporter says as his freed cock, nearly hits me in the face once it’s let loose from its sweaty packaged bikini’s.

    “Pete has a nice peter, I thought so, when you walked up,” Marty says as his hand, casually drops to the strategically placed towel that covers his hidden mid-section, and rest on his covered cock, “your bulge was quite pronounced.”

    Pete smiles at the middle-aged man that seats leering at the both of us while we pander to his wishes.

    “You get much, pussy, Pete?” Marty says, toying with the young green reporter’s male ego, “I am sure they like that cock of yours.”

    “I do alright,” Pete says, “I fucked a girl from the bar I went to near Tampa International, last night, she had no qualms with my skill.”

    “Your cocky,” Marty says, “I like that, but you are packing quite a piece, yourself, so I can see your arrogance is well-founded.”

    Marty shifts in his seat. The towel falls, somewhat, from around his waist, revealing a whisper of dense hairy brunette pubes, peek from the ‘V’ shaped configuration of his overlapping towel, as it seats in his place.

    “Touch yourself, Pete,” Marty says, “let me see you jack that wonderful tool of yours, boy, for me. Stroke that rod.”

    “Maybe another time,” Pete says.

    “Maybe I will reconsider this little interview, then, after all, “Marty says, “good day to you, son, you too, Mark. I am sorry you wasted your time coming all the way here and you, boy, coming from Chicago.”

    Pete brings his hand to his thickly haired cock, letting his fingers, tickle, his immense cockhead, watching it amass the much-needed blood in its tiny vessels that fill his manhood and bring it to spontaneous erection.

    My cock twitches as the young man, strokes his member from dormancy to sustaining life, teasing Marty with his skill and prowess.

    “Am I goin’ to get my interview, if I do this? If I stroke myself, for you?” Pete asks as he complies with the, uhmm, request.

    My own cock grows without any added stimulation, as I stand from my stooped stance from the act of lowering Pete’s trousers. As I stand, my cock, rears itself to life, spearing through the open space between Pete and me, glistening in its nearing hardness.

    “YES! You will get your interview,” Marty says, “…and I will get my little display, ahh, show from you, laddie.”

    Pete moves his hands, both of them, slowly up, then, down the length of his member, letting it reach its full eventual potential.

    “Good boy,” Marty says as the jack-off by Pete commences on his inflating cock.

    “So how was that girl’s pussy, last night?” Marty says, “Did she milk you of that boy-seed I know fills those low-hangers, dangling between those legs of yours?”

    “Yeah, I shot my load,” Pete says.

    “In her pussy?” Marty inquires further.

    “Yes,” he answers swiftly back, “I shot deep within her manicured little tight twat, I shot so much, the cream ran out because it was so much.”

    “How many times did you fuck her, boy?” Marty says as he fondles his beach towel covered cock. His cock moves under the large beach towel, like a giant boa constrictor coming to life, hidden in the dense thick foliaged bushes.

    “I fucked her three times, last night,” Pete says, “…and one time before Mark picked me up this morning.”

    Pete says as he looks over at me. My own cock grows fiercely stiff as Pete relates his liaison with the paid whore from his rendezvous last night.

    Pete moans, loudly, as his cock has reared to life, showing the full glory between his youthful legs.

    “How old are you, boy?” Marty asks as he lingers longingly at the stroking cocked man in front of him.

    “Twenty-seven, I am twenty-seven,” Pete, answers.

    “You married?”

    “HELL NO! I AM NOT MARRIED!” Pete exclaims quite loudly, “I am not sure I will ever get married. I have no interest in being tied down.”

    “You ready for your interview, Pete?” Marty asks.

    “Yeah, I just need to set-up my recorder, so I get your answers, correctly,” Pete says.

    “Get your equipment set up, grab a towel and sit down so we can start,” Marty says, as he places his hand on the towel in his lap, massaging his cock, and the mount created by it,”…just keep that dick of yours hard, Pete, you too, Mark, you stay hard, too.”

    Pete and I say, “Sure,” simultaneously.

    I am so horned up, I am not sure I am going to be able to keep from shooting my load. It has been days since I busted a nut, I think to myself.

    “You have a nice cock, too, Mark,” Marty says, “…but I have seen it, how many times now?”

    “I am not sure,” I say, “…but you have seen it a lot.”

    As I answer Marty, Pete looks at me, I wonder what he is thinking.

    “So you two, do know each other?” Pete says as he looks at me, while a lone single drop of pre-cum forms and leaks from his hard cock, “more than what you have lead me to believe, Mark.”

    I feel my cock twitch when I notice Pete’s excretion of seminal fluid from his throbbin’ erect cock.

    Pete looks at me. I do not answer him.

    “You do. You do know each other,” Pete says, “…that is why you called me, isn’t it?”

    I do not answer him, I go about arranging the ‘stage’ for this interview.

    To speed things up, I place a towel on the open, one of the available two chairs where Marty is seated, with his towel, still covering his crotch area.

    Pete places his recording device on the glass top patio table, when he turns, his cock bounces from the side of his thighs, flapping like a flesh-flashlight on each side of his leg. The pre-cum whips, carelessly, from his piss-slit, leaving a string-like clear thick discharge in its wake. Pete does not do anything, not even acknowledging what his still-somewhat hard cock is actively releasing from deep down bowels in his balls.

    Marty leans and arranges the chair, so that Pete can be near him. As he does this, more pubes are revealed and the hilt of his covered cock, exposed, somewhat. Seeing that the towel has fallen, Marty pulls it back into place, concealing the root of his penis.

    “Sit here,” Marty says, as he readjusts his butt back in his seat after leaning forward,”…before you sit down, give your cock, another stroke, for me, first.”

    Pete does, he glides his hand, casually up, then down the length of cock, another gob of pre-man-cream is expelled. He smears this discharge on his engorged cockhead, making sure it is coated thoroughly with his pre-semen. His cockhead flares bright red, filled with life-giving, life-sustaining blood, it throbs with his stroking.

    “I am ready, now,” Marty says, “have a seat.”

    Marty taps the arm of the metal-lattice armed chair, covered in the brightly colored beach towel, which awaits the young firm ass of the greenhorn reporter.

    Pete sits his ripe ass, in the chair, his cock, flops with these motions, further releasing more of his essence for Marty and I to see. As he sits, like most men, he man-spreads his legs, giving his balls, room to move and relax. His cock, points skyward toward the warm Florida sun, as if it is being drawn upward, magnetized by the light and sexual tension in the air.

    “Can I ask my questions, now? Pete asks, his words, sharp, exasperated. The game, obviously, irritating him. He feels he is being played, some pawn in a game he wasn’t aware of, until now.

    “Sure,” Marty responds, just a short, just as sharp, “Ask away, stud. I know you have questions, questions, only I can answer.”

    “When did you realize, you were different, that you weren’t like everyone else?” Pete asks, as he spreads his legs wider, once he finds a comfortable place in his chair, and another dripple of pre-cum leaks from his towering erect cock between his hairy thighs.

    “I was in the fifth grade, “Marty says, “I was changing in the locker room. It was then, I realized, I was different.”

    “Special? That you were special?” Pete interjects.

    “No, not special. Different,” Marty reiterates.

    “What happened, then?” Pete says.

    I am seated in the third chair, opposite from them, as they sit, face-to-face, hearing Marty relate his tale again and seeing the stunned looked on the kid’s face as he answers questions I have heard before, asked under very different circumstances, but the reaction is still the same.

    I fondle my own cock, it’s hard, too, like Pete’s, it leaks, pre-cum, like Pete’s.

    My hands stay on my genitals, one on my cock, the other one, cups my balls, massaging them as I leer at Pete’s visible erection that continues to produce more liquid from his manhood.

    Pete looks toward me, as I engage in my ongoing activity with my man-toy. He does not seem deterred by my personal interaction with my schlong; it is mine, after all, my own personal play toy. It is why I was fortunate enough to be blessed with it between my legs.

    “So what happened?” Pete asks again.

    “It was closer examined,” Marty replies.

    “…and?” Pete says, as he slides to the edge of his chair, rapt with intrigue, his towel sliding underneath him as he moves closer to Marty, wanting not to miss a word said.

    “It surpassed others my age, then,” Marty says.

    “…and, now, too,” Pete interjects.

    Pete looks to Marty’s covered waist, the towels jumps as it responds to the poignant questions. His, Pete’s cock, jumps, too, giving-up another gob of juice, he does not spread his cum over the cock, he lets it drip, drip like a fountain as he, too, reacts to the question, he posed to the towel clad naked man in front of him.

    “Is it difficult? You know, being different?” Pete asks as he unconsciously brings his right hand, once again to his cock, travelling the length of it, milking his balls, as another drop seeps from his wide piss-slit. He smears his cum over his extremely hard cock and that same hand to his lips, tasting his cum.

    “I cannot do that,” Marty says, “it takes to long.”

    Pete looks to his waist. He shifts in his seat, his hard throbbin’ cock makes it uncomfortable for him to sit, still.

    “I need to stand,” I say, “my cock is leaking a lot.”

    Pete and Marty, both, look to me, in unison, while Marty looks to Pete’s erect cock.

    “You do have such a nice cock, Pete,” Marty says, “I like seeing it throb as you release little drops of cum.”

    “Thanks,” Pete says.

    “Mark, does too, doncha think, Pete?” Marty says.

    “Yeah, he does,” Pete says as I see his eyes follow my right hand as I glide my delicate fingers up and down my shaft as I push myself to even harder limits.

    Pete brings his hand to go in time with my rhythmic stroking of my cock, matching me with my ‘frustrations.’

    Pete’s cock is in a furry nest, the hair creeps from the crack of his ass, making it way in a blustering patch of thick pubes, in his loins, a real man’s spectacular show of masculinity. I guess him to be about nine, maybe 10 inches, he is girthy, full, some would say, beer-can-like. It is a small tower, located in his nether region, an alluring symbol of pride, for him, and all those fortunate enough to see it.

    In the distance, I hear a siren. The police, I surmise, as it makes it way on US 41. It momentarily distracts the three of us, bringing us back to a harsh reality, and the close proximity we are to the rest of the world, as we all sit naked, in the backyard of Marty’s property, behind his doublewide trailer I lean on the wall, next to where we sit and stroke my cock, as Pete asks another question.

    “So when was the first time, you did it?” Pete asks.

    “Did what?” Marty asks.

    “It?” Pete says, “…that you did, IT?”

    Marty pauses, removes his hands from his towel-draped waist and places both of them on the armrest of his lounge chair. As he moves his arms to the chair sides, he wiggles in his seat, as the cock, covered by the extra large beach towel, moves, noticeably with his gyrations.

    “The first time I did ‘IT’ was a few weeks after I was seen in that locker room,” Marty says, he is not smiling, he slinks his head down.

    “You were not even a teenager, then, just a boy but a boy unlike other boys your age, mind you,” Pete interrupts, totally disbelief crosses his face at the realization of the incident, “how’d you know what to do?”

    “A neighbor arranged it with an 18-year old prostitute,” Marty says, “it was a slow process, but it happened. Of course, I was not a big as you are NOW but I was close, mighty close. He watched me and joined in. I did not know what went where but her face showed amazement when she saw what a big piece of equipment I had from someone so young.”

    Pete strokes his cock. The cum manifest more from deep within his balls, coalescing in more visible drops.

    I stroke my cock as I see more expelled from the young reporter’s swelled member.

    Marty is leering, his eyes, bugging out, licking his lips, at me, where I stand, leaning, against the side of the trailer. Then, he looks at Pete.

    “Why doncha lick Mark’s cock, “Marty says, “Show me your oral skills.”

    “I’m not gay, Marty, I like pussy,” Pete says, without hesitation.

    “Can I taste yours, Pete?” I say before Marty makes the suggestion, I know it would be his next comment.

    Pete looks at me, then down at his over-indulged prominently displayed erect cock with the constant drips of cum continuing to be emptied from it.

    “Sure. Okay,” Pete says, matter-a-fact, with a stoic look on his face.

    I leave my resting place against the wall and make my way to Pete, standing in front of him, where he sits in the chair. My cock, within a foot of his face, throbbing and exerting its own influence in our shared presence as our dripping cocks continue with their outward fountain of man-cream from both of our members.

    “Put this in your ass, Mark,” Marty says as he pulls a 10-inch battery-operated dildo from underneath his beach towel. The color of the dildo is bright blue, primary-hued, it shines bright against the pale flesh of the hand that is holding it.

    Marty twists the end of the sex toy, it whirs to life, a slight buzz fills the air, as Marty swallows the toy down to its black base, taking all of it into his esophagus. The wetness of his saliva soaks down the toy, lubing its entirety.

    The wet toy, in its vibratory actions, vibrates in his hand as I grasp the shaking toy from his grip. I feel my cock, twitch, expelling another dollop of cum from my stiff cock. It drips from cock, hitting the stained boards, the evenly spaced latts, that form the outdoor patio/porch.

    “Stand up, Pete,” Marty orders and Pete complies, without hesitation.

    Pete stands, his cock, forms a ‘V’ from his abdomen, a mini-triangle from his thick matt of pubes. The angle is tight, as his balls, hanging low, pull up the tight muscles in his ‘other’ muscle between his legs.

    I plant the base of the dildo, between the cracks of the boards, forming the patio in Marty’s backyard. It fits tightly between the spaced latts of the outdoor porch. It does not budge from the position where I place it.

    The lube spit makes the dildo, ease smoothly and unimpeded into my ass, as I slide down on its length, lowering my body upon it, filling me.

    As I glide down the blue toy, I extend my tongue and grab, his cock, bending ‘that’ muscle into my mouth, its erectness, harder than I thought possible a man could sustain in such a state of arousal.

    “OHHH! OHHH!”

    Pete moans as I work his tool.

    Regaining, limited composure, Pete resumes his questions as I continue my stimulation of his engorged glan.

    “Did you like it? Was it fun? What you did when you were with the prostitute?” Pete asks a moan is withheld, as he finishes his question.

    His cock pulses in my mouth as he finishes his question.

    “I wasn’t even thirteen, yet, a teenager,” Marty says, “it felt good, so, yeah, I enjoyed it.”

    “Did you? Did you, release?” Pete asks as I feel a large gob of pre-cum, not cum into my mouth.

    “Yes. Yes, I did,” Marty says, “It was the first time, I had ever done so.”

    As I pivot up and down on the vibrating dildo that fills my hole as I take swallow after swallow on Pete’s high-strung prick, he releases gobs of pre-cum into my mouth, his salty-sweet taste savors my taste buds as I suck and suction harder more from his balls.

    Marty leans forward, grabbing and reaching for Pete’s exposed nipples.

    Pete leans down and draws closer to Marty, making access easier for stimulation.

    The sighs emanate from Pete as he is tweaked by the forty-something man he is suppose to be interviewing.

    “Is this why you are called ‘the Grabber’?” Pete asks as he sighs from the dual stimulation of his person.

    “It’s one reason,” Marty says, “…and this.”

    Marty grabs his concealed cock after releasing his tight squeeze of Pete’s hairy-circled nipples. He roughly grabs his concealed and covered cock, working it furiously with his hand over the beach towel draped appropriately hiding his equipment.

    “OHHH! OHHH!” Pete squeals as a small dripple of pre-cum exits his cock, sending shocks waves through his body as he nears climax.

    I feel the ooze slither down my throat.

    “He cummin’ more, Mark?” Marty says, as he grabs my head, forcing me down, forcibly, tighter, onto the cock that fills my gullet.

    I nod my head, while I continue to ride the vibrating dildo that rams, under my own machinations into my tight ass.

    “OHHH! OHHH! OHHH!”

    Another outburst from Pete as I feel the head of his cock, hit the back of my throat.

    Like a cobra rising from the basket, Marty’s cock, appears from the clutched concealment of the overlapping towel, revealing what lay underneath.

    The towel is parted, showing what has been hidden since the interview commenced.

    As the secret is uncovered, Pete, in extreme agitation, pulls from my mouth, turning to see Marty’s prize. The reaction caused by this exposure and awe of the penile fascination, Pete blasts his load from his cock, coating the chest, pubes and portions of Marty’s face with his thick goo, it streams down the muscles of the middle-aged man, rivulets run through the hairs covering the endowed man, still seated.

    “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Pete screams as his wad is expunged, released its totality from his pent-up, drawn-up balls.

    His breathing slows from its fast pace, as his heart resumes its proper beats.

    “I have one last question, “Pete says as he grips and squeezes his slowly flaccid tweaking cock of the last drops of his juice.

    “Yes,” Marty says, as he runs his hands along his lengthy member, stroking it, as best he can, regardless of it hearty length.

    “How big is it?” Pete asks.

    “I am 14-inches,” Marty says, “I was 8-inches back in the fourth grade. It made me different but posed other instances too.”

    “I can imagine,” Pete says, still breathing heavy as the last drops fall from his spent cock.

    “AHHH! AHHH!” I hear myself near climax as the two have ignored me and continued with the visual fascination between the pair.

    “Give me that load, Marky!”

    I rise, hearing the dildo fall from my spread hairy ass-cheeks hitting the wooden boards as I spray my bountiful wonder white man-seed upon the exposed man, towel undraped, with The World’s Biggest Penis, or so I have been told.

    Like the mighty boa constrictor, and near as thick, his glorious manliness protrudes through the hairy forest of his deep brunette pubes, it dangles vicariously and is not easily concealed in a pair of shorts, slacks or jeans.

    “So why do you make the people who visit you, go naked?” Pete asks as his hand travels the length of his deflating cock.

    “Because with a cock like this,” Marty says as he squeezes and grabs his cock, so hard,”…that I cannot get it in a pair of pants or shorts without being stared at, besides I like looking at cock, myself, even though NO ONE measures up to me.”

    Pete nods his head, in agreement.

    “Ready to finish this interview, Marty?” Pete asks.

    “Sure,” Marty says, “Maybe another load can be coaxed out of that cock of yours again.”

    Pete smiles, as do I, as I feel my own cock, begin to grow hard, again.

    THE END