Author: admin

  • The Furlong Gene

    “So what are you thinking of right now, Jake?” I asked him, watching his hand whacking away at his big dick just like mine was sliding up and down my own similarly large hard-on. “Maybe a girl fingerin’ out her pussy and gettin’ it all hot and wet, ready for you to eat it…?”

    My cousin grinned at me, checking out my chopper getting jerked, as the fattened plum-head of his massive cock swelled more shiny and took on a darker shade of purple. “Sounds pretty good, Shane, but what else you got?”

    “Okay… how about some fit dude bendin’ over and spreadin’ his arse-cheeks open… so you can see his juicy little pucker, lookin’ moist and hairy?”

    The huge girth of Jake’s cock chubbed up still further and became as hard as steel in his frantically pumping hand. The veins webbed across its surface rose upwards in bulbous knots and a sudden gush of precum oozed out from the gaping slit and spread out in an oily sheen across the surface.

    “Oh yeah!” he chortled. “That sounds totally fucking hot!”

    He flogged himself even faster and I wondered how long he was going to last. His heaving ball-sack strained with the weight of his massive over-filled knackers. I’d always thought that I had a big pair of cods – I used to get embarrassed at school about the way they stood out in two egg-sized mounds on either side of my trouser zipper – but Jake’s were a step up even from that!

    “I’d kneel down behind him,” he grinned, “and shove my face right in there. Have a good lick of his tight little tush!”

    “You so wouldn’t!” I laughed, surprised how horny I felt to hear him talk like that.

    “I fucking would!” he beamed at me, and I knew he really would.

    “So let me get this straight,” I smirked back. “You’d stick your tongue up some guy’s festy brown hole over a girl’s hot pussy?”

    “Only if I got to fuck him!” he replied, staring at my thick rod as my fist kept slamming up and down it.

    “No shit, mate?” I asked. I was getting close myself. “You’d really wanna butt-fuck another dude?”

    Jake chortled and nodded but I still couldn’t believe it.

    “Strewth, like actually do him up his clacker?” I queried, pounding at my dick. “For real, with your dick chockers up his arse?”

    “Of course I would,” Jake laughed. “I’ve done it loads of times!”

    “What… you mean, with other guys?”

    “With guys who are up for it, yeah, why not?! It’s just as good as any other sex!”

    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing – but, God, it was cranking my bone! My cousin rooting other lads’ arses while he had a girlfriend he was at it with too!

    “And you actually get them to bend over… the two of you goin’ at it… one behind the other like a couple of gays?”

    Jake laughed again. “There’s nothing gay about it! You should try it, Shane! It’s the best, man!”

    “Better than fuckin’ a girl?”

    His hand was now pumping his massive prick so fast that the bed was shaking. The headboard right behind where I was squatting was hammering against the wall so loud that his dad in the next room would probably think his son and his nephew were actually doing the thing they were just talking about.

    “I dunno about that,” he chuckled. “But it’s pretty fucking tops!”

    “What’s so good about it?” I panted, feeling my nuts starting to tingle as the endless thumping of my fist up and down my big shaft right above them made them jiggle about between my legs. “What’s so great about shagging another guy’s arse?”

    “You have no idea ’til you’ve done it!” Jake gasped. “It’s so intense when it’s two dudes… the two of you so horny… so sweaty and so up for it… both with rock hard cocks and both desperate to nut off!”

    “And you shag them like that? On your bed at uni?”

    “Or they shag me!” he grinned. “Or we take it in turns!”

    “Fuck!” I called out, my hand a blur on my throbbing bone. The head of it was so bloated and the purple skin was stretched taut and shiny with my goo. “You let other lads stick their woodies up your chuff?”

    “I fucking love it!” he beamed at me. “I love having huge knobs splitting my arse in two! Big thick boners with fat bell-ends to really work my boy-cunt and get me gasping!”

    He leered at my cock and I knew he was imagining it banging away at his ‘boy-cunt’ as he’d called it. I cried out, breathless, as my jizz started firing off in long strings from my gaping slit and while I was still cumming, Jake grabbed my left hand and thrust it between his legs, under his giant nuts.

    “Feel my arsehole!” he gasped as my sprog kept flinging. “Feel how wide and stretched it is from all the big cocks that have been up it!”

    I raised my fingers upwards and groped at how puffy and swollen his huge anal ring felt. It was wet from his sweat and slimy from his bum and the sensation of it, while on one level disgusting, was on another hugely exciting from the knowledge of what had cleaved it open and inflamed its clamped muscle to such an outrageous size.

    My cock started spurting with renewed vigour just as Jake’s began a much more powerful eruption. I ran my finger around his spasming entrance as he cried out, “Ah yeah! Feel my big fuck-hole!”

    Thick ribbons of his cum were spraying from his big pole and he grinned at me, revelling in having me see him enjoy his climax. We both kept wanking frantically, milking our cocks for all they were worth, and as his orgasm subsided I worked the end of my finger up his hot wet hole and grinned into his surprised face when it made him start creaming off more powerfully again.

    When our jizz had finally abated and we’d clambered off his bed, we laughed at how covered in spunk we were and how the tip of my finger had a moist brown smear on it.

    “All that stuff about bum sex?” I asked him as we cleaned up in his bathroom. “Was it just… you know… wank-off talk?”

    “What do you mean?” he asked, wiping his chest off with toilet roll. “Are you asking if I have actually done stuff with other dudes? If we’ve screwed each other’s butts?”

    “Well, yeah,” I shrugged, washing my hands more thoroughly than I ordinarily would. “I guess what you said was just you messing about, was it?”

    “Of course it wasn’t!” he called over to me. “A lot of guys these days, Shane – well, in England, at least – are a bit more… well… I guess, ‘adventurous’ about sex than maybe they were say twenty or thirty years ago…”

    “But you’re straight,” I queried. “You’ve got a girlfriend and, from what you’ve told me, the two of you are pretty serious.”

    “I suppose that’s the whole point,” he said, tossing the scrunched up tissue into the toilet and flushing it. “The stuff I do with other guys isn’t serious at all. It’s just sex… a bit of fun with no strings… the two of us busting our nuts, that’s all.”

    “Is it as simple as that?” I asked him through the mirror above the sink. “I mean, don’t you form… you know… attachments or whatever?”

    “Fucking hell, mate!” he grinned back at me. “I just have sex with dudes – it’s not like I’m gay!”

    “Is there a difference?” Now I was genuinely confused.

    “Of course there’s a difference,” he laughed. “Gay guys have relationships… they move in together and go shopping for curtains and stuff like that. The shit I get up to… well, there’s nothing meaningful about it. It’s just mates messing about when the girls aren’t around.”

    “It’s a bit more than that,” I countered. “I mean, sex is supposed to be… you know… ‘special’ maybe…?”

    I realised how lame I sounded but I couldn’t think of a better way of putting it.

    Jake roared with laughter as I’d expected him to.

    “You wanna get with the times, mate! You guys out there in Oz are still living in the ‘fifties!”


    I’d planned on staying with my dad’s brother, my Uncle Robert, for just a few nights to start off my backpacking around the UK before heading across to Europe. As it turned out, though, I had such a beaut time with him and his son Jake – so much happened that was fun and eye-opening – that I decided to stay with them for the whole six weeks of my trip.

    My upbringing in Brisbane was conservative to put it mildly. My dad ran our house like a monastery and any references to sexual stuff – even just having to ask for different underwear when my junk was getting too big for my jocks – was totally off-limits.

    Now that I’m eighteen, life in my dad’s house was feeling cramped and claustrophobic. I guess that’s why it felt so liberating to bunk up with Uncle Robert and my cousin Jake.

    The very first night when I was getting ready for bed, Jake just walked right into my bedroom in his underwear and sprawled himself out on the chair by the desk. I couldn’t help but notice he was stashing a pretty big mound in the pouch of his boxers. Looking back, it’s obvious he wanted me to see it.

    “Don’t you English guys knock when you come into a room?” I asked him with a broad smirk to show him I wasn’t really that fussed. Back at home, though, there’s no way we’d just walk into each other’s bedrooms without knocking and waiting to be asked in.

    “Me and dad have an open door policy,” my cousin grinned. “Except when I’ve got Ellie, my girlfriend, over or dad’s entertaining Debbie who he’s sort of seeing on and off.”

    “Don’t you like your privacy?” I asked him, unbuttoning my jeans.

    “I’m not saying the doors always stay open,” he shrugged. “But we both like to see what each other’s getting up to!”

    “Sounds all right,” I chuckled, thinking how refreshing it was to be in a house with guys who were so relaxed around each other. I’d always enjoyed the carefree atmosphere between me and my mates in the locker-room after football, and I hoped it would be a bit like that here in my uncle’s house.

    “I so dig your accent!” Jake laughed. “The way you say ‘all right’… like ‘aw roigh’… how is it?… ‘ahr roight’… no I can’t do it…”

    “Don’t even try, mate!” I laughed, deliberately emphasizing my Australian twang. I found it pretty funny that Jake found my accent that strong because both my parents were born in England and so back home people are always saying I sound like a pom.

    When I pulled my jeans down, Jake called out, “Whoa! Looks like you inherited the Furlong gene!”

    “The Furlong gene?” I asked, unsure as to why seeing my underwear had caused such a reaction.

    “Yeah, you’re making a hell of a bulge in your boxers!”

    “Oh, that,” I blushed. “It’s a bit embarrassing really.”

    “You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” he laughed. “You should show it off like I do!”

    He raised his hips from the chair and rubbed the straining front of his tight stripy boxer trunks as if he was proud of the enormous mound made by his thick floppy cock and the twin bulges of his nuts.

    “You mean it’s a family thing?” I asked, stepping out of my daks. “There really is a Furlong gene?”

    “I dunno if there’s an actual gene,” he grinned. “But I’m just as hung as my dad – maybe a bit more so – so we’ve always joked that it must be inherited.”

    “Your dad? You’ve seen his dick? You guys joke about knob size?!”

    “Of course I’ve seen his dick!” Jake laughed. “He used to get hung up about nudity and stuff, but he’s pretty cool about it now. I mean, it’s all guys together in this house, isn’t it?”

    “I guess…”

    “What about your dad’s dick?” Jake asked. “He must have the Furlong gene too…?”

    “I’ve no idea,” I shrugged, sitting down on my bed to take off my socks. “Things are really different back home. My dad – your Uncle Richard – is a real wowser if I’m honest. He won’t tolerate what he calls ‘smut talk’ and we never see each other in just our undies, never mind in the buff.”

    “In that case, you’ll find this house a bit of a shock to the system, Shane!” Jake laughed.

    “No, I reckon I’ll like it,” I smiled, finding it surprisingly fun to dag around with my cousin both wearing just our underwear. Jake obviously liked flaunting his over-stocked bulge for me and I found that I also quite enjoyed the way he kept glancing with admiration at the way I was filling out the front of my own well-stretched boxers. “It’s nice to able to unwind a bit!”

    He got up and walked over to the bedroom door. “I better leave you to it, bud. You must be knackered after the long flight and all the travelling.”

    “You can say that again.”

    “It’s nice for us to finally meet after all this time. I’ve been suggesting to dad, since I was like three or something, that we should go out to Oz so I could meet my cousin Shane. There’s only… what… two years between us…”

    “Yeah, I’ve always wondered why dad was so reluctant to come back over to the UK and meet up with the rellies – especially Uncle Robert.”

    “He usually gets called Rob,” Jake told me with a smirk. “Only call him Robert when you want to fuck him off.”

    “Oh right,” I said, wondering how many times I’d called him Uncle Robert on the drive back from Heathrow. “Thanks for letting me know.”

    Before leaving me to get some desperately-needed sleep, Jake said, “The wifi password is ‘tipple’, the name of our old cat, and there’s a shared drive with the letter F with a shit-load of porn on it. Just in case you want something to… er… help you sleep!”

    “Doesn’t your dad ever notice it’s there?”

    “Notice it’s there?” Jake laughed. “He practically lives there! There’s a directory called ‘rob’ and another called ‘jake’.”

    “Wow!” I laughed. “This is a pretty open household, isn’t it?!”

    “Dad’s stuff is… well… of a very specific type and probably not for the squeamish, but my stuff’s pretty wide-ranging and you’ll probably find something you like if you hunt around a bit.”

    “I’ll… er… take a look tomorrow,” I said, unsure of how to respond to such a bizarre invitation. “I’m pretty bushed right now and I think I’m just gonna hit the sack.”

    “Whatever you like,” he nodded. “Might be something to do when you wake up at three in the morning and can’t get back to sleep.”

    He went off to bed and I found that, as tired as I was, my interest in what Jake had said was preventing me from getting to sleep. My mind was way too active and there was no way I was going to be able to just lie there and naturally doze off.

    I got my tablet out of my backpack, logged into the wifi and quickly found the shared drive that Jake had mentioned. I didn’t look in his dad’s stuff – I figured it would be full of nuns or schoolgirls or something equally predictable – but instead dived straight into the directory called ‘jake’.

    Would the computer in his bedroom show what I was doing? Would he know which directories and files I was looking at?

    I wasn’t sure but I was too curious to care.

    There were several subfolders and I tried the one called ‘hot’. I tapped on a couple of the movies and found they were pretty standard porn – a girl taking a jacuzzi with a guy coming in to join her and a young stay-at-home mum having a plumber come to visit – but something about them struck me as slightly odd. It took a few more movies for me to figure out what it was: the camera’s main focus was always on the guy rather than the girl.

    In just about all of the porn I’d seen back in Oz, any guys showing up were basically just a cock on legs: you never got to see their muscles or their faces and you sure as hell never got a lingering shot of their behinds. But this stuff was like straight porn which had been filmed by gay guys. The cameraman seemed fixated on showing off how big the bloke’s prick was and how firm his arse-cheeks were – the girl was kind of ignored no matter how cute she looked.

    A folder titled ‘cool’ was full of bisexual threesomes. At first I was like ‘meh’ – that stuff’s never really appealed – but after flicking through a couple I realised, again, that this wasn’t run-of-the-mill. It wasn’t two girls and a guy like most of the bisexual stuff I’d seen – it was always two guys and one girl, and the guys always got it on together far more than they got up to anything with the bored-looking girl.

    “Okay,” I thought, “he likes his porn with a few cocks in it. It doesn’t make the dude gay. And anyway he said he has a girlfriend.”

    I clicked on the directory called ‘fun’ and that was when I started to wonder. This was all gay stuff with the dudes looking buff and the emphasis exclusively directed at the anal. These guys were screwing each other’s big solid arses every which way they could – more ways than I knew about since dad always has the family filter switched to max back at home. I realised that, while there was a huge variety in the men’s ages and races, the one thing they all had in common was that they were all proudly showing off the most humungous cocks I’d ever seen.

    I’d sneaked a look at gay porn before – which guy hasn’t? – but the dudes in that had been cutesy pretty-boys, kissing each other’s skinny little dicks and looking longingly into each other’s eyes. This stuff was in a different league with these worked-out hunks ramming their massive pricks up each other’s big gaping arseholes and butt-fucking roughly with their sweat making their straining muscles glisten.

    Was this what Jake was into? Was this what he considered ‘fun’?

    Grabbing my cock and wanking it – it had grown hard in my shorts from all the porn I’d seen – I watched two men frantically fucking doggy-style and wondered if Jake flogged himself off looking at this kind of stuff.

    Did his girlfriend know her bloke had a gay side? And that his gay side liked his men well buffed-up and with cocks as long and as thick as their forearms.

    I clicked on movie he’d called ‘best.mp4’, knowing that this was probably one he would regularly return to when he was jerking off. The movie showed a guy in a sort of video booth, kneeling in front of a big hole which had been cut in one wall. It didn’t surprise me too much when some other dude’s huge hard-on was slowly pushed through it nor that the kneeling bloke eagerly took the thing into his mouth. After a minute or so of really sloppy cock sucking – which was kind of hot to watch, actually – the dude pulled his cock away from the hole, turned around and shoved his backside slap bang against it. I assumed the cocksucker was going to stand up and work his knob between the guy’s cheeks but instead he stayed kneeling and – to my gasping surprise – started feeding on the bloke’s arse, pushing his tongue right into his hairy crack.

    “Oh Jake! Fuck!” I called out as my own cock started spurting.

    Even as I was cumming – still spraying my jizz all over the t-shirt I’d worn for thirty-odd hours since putting on back in Brissy – I was hoping to God my cousin couldn’t see which of his movies had made my balls start heaving.


    “You boys were especially noisy last night,” Uncle Rob said at breakfast the morning after Jake and I had masturbated on his bed. “A sort of odd, rhythmic, headboard-thumping noisiness.”

    I blushed, praying for my toast to pop up, but Jake just laughed and said, “Oh yeah, we were just wanking off. Don’t worry, dad, I wasn’t defiling my little cousin’s innocence. Not just yet, anyway.”

    He chortled with laughter but I blushed even deeper and just stared fixedly at the toaster. I so couldn’t believe he’d just said that! Couldn’t he have pretended were like – I dunno – sawing some wood or something?

    Jake had been the one to start it. I’d found I couldn’t sleep, even though I’d been tired on and off most of the day, and when I’d got up to take a pee at about twelve, I’d noticed his bedroom light was still on. We’d chatted together in our jocks, talking about music and stuff, and then Jake had asked – totally out of the blue – if I fancied jerking off with him before we both turned in.

    Even before I could say no I’ll take a pass on that mate, his semi-hard dick was out of his shorts and he was beating the thing off saying, “I so fucking need this!” The thing was floppy but huge – way bigger than mine at half-mast – and I suddenly felt a wave of fascination watching him tug his foreskin up and down as he slowly boned up to full size right in front of me.

    He’d thrown me a smile – a really cheeky, naughty smile – and whispered, “Come on, cuz… join in with me… if nothing else, it’ll help you sleep!”

    Finding myself cracking a fat of my own, I pulled the front of my own boxers down and started stroking my own big chub alongside his. Soon the frame of his bed was creaking like a see-saw and the two of us were telling each other what sort of things turned us on.

    It had started with girlie stuff, as you’d probably figure. Jake told me what he fantasizes about getting up to with his girlfriend Ellie, and I told him about Shauna, a girl back home I think is sweet but have been too chicken to ask out on a date.

    “Did you look through my porn folder on the F drive?” he’d asked, bashing away at his big dick with such force that his bollocks were thumping up and down against his wrist.

    I’d nodded and he’d added, “See anything you like?”

    “There was more dude stuff on there than I expected, to be honest,” I replied.

    He’d turned to me and grinned. “Nothing wrong with a bit of cock and bum fun, Shane.”

    “You into guys as well as girls then?” I asked, becoming aware that both our hands were stroking a whole lot faster.

    “I know a nice dick when I see one,” he’d told me. “And a hairy arsehole can be a turn-on too.”

    I’d smiled, surprised but appreciating his honesty, and that’s when I’d started questioning him about whether he preferred pussies or pricks and what sort of stuff he’d got up to with dudes. Soon we were both whacking off at full speed, making his bed pound with our rhythm and his headboard thump loudly against his dad’s bedroom wall.

    It had seemed so horny last night but now that it was morning and we were all standing around in the kitchen, instead it seemed so mortifyingly embarrassing.

    “It’s okay, Shane,” Uncle Rob said soothingly. “There’s no problem if you guys want to masturbate together. My own bedsprings still get to creak occasionally!”

    “It’s… it’s not that,” I stammered. “It’s just in my house, with dad being so… well… strict… it’s not something we ever talk about.”

    “Oh yes,” Uncle Rob grinned. “Your father was always a touch on the puritanical side. Even when we were growing up.”

    “I’m used to being in a very traditional household,” I explained. “I get embarrassed pretty easily because of that, especially about sexual stuff.”

    “That’s okay,” Uncle Rob said, coming across to affectionately pat me on the arm. “Until recently, I used to be like that myself. Things have changed a lot in this house over the last couple of years and I hope that it’ll be good for you to be around us and see how things work for the two of us.”

    I wasn’t sure what he meant so I just shrugged and said, “I hope so.”

    Jake bellowed with laughter as he filled up his orange juice. “You make it sound like we’re the Adams Family or something!”

    “We are a bit… er…. odd,” Uncle Rob replied.

    “We’re the future, Shane, mate!” Jake chortled. “In twenty years or so, everyone’ll be living like we do!”

    Again I had no idea what he was talking about – maybe they’d had one of those systems installed where all your lighting and stuff gets controlled by an app on your phone – so I just smiled and nodded.


    “So how do you crack onto guys?” I asked Jake a couple of nights later when we were dagging around in his bedroom. “I mean, are they mates you hit on or are they random guys you meet up with somehow?”

    Jake laughed. “You’re pretty interested in the dude sex I get up to, aren’t you?”

    “Why don’t you call it what it is – gay sex?” I smiled.

    “Because it’s not gay sex – I told you that. There’s no romantic stuff, no getting heavy with each other. It’s just two guys messing around together when their nuts are full of spunk and they’re running hard-ons that won’t go down.”

    “You make it sound… I dunno… clinical… mechanical…”

    He chuckled at that. “Seriously, Shane, it’s anything but! Even without the schmaltzy stuff, sex with another guy can be really steamy!”

    He was right – I was pretty interested in this, but I wasn’t sure exactly why.

    I was by now finding that I was really enjoying my time with Uncle Rob and Jake. I’d only intended on staying a few nights before heading off with my backpack, but being around them had turned out to be so much fun that I’d extended it to a week.

    Uncle Rob was really sweet – so much more laid-back than my dad that it was hard to believe they were brothers – and he’d clearly clicked with me as the nephew he’d never known. We went out every day, the three of us and Uncle Rob’s mate Guy, and the four of us had quickly bonded and had become as comfortable around each other as long-time mates.

    I’ve always felt awkward around girls, if I’m honest, and over the last couple of years I’ve realised that I can only really be myself in all-male company. Hanging around with Uncle Rob, Jake and Guy was something else, though – it seemed to take my enjoyment of being one of the lads to a whole new level.

    Jake and I were soon getting along as well as brothers and Uncle Rob and Guy were a bit like a pair of brothers too. There was a closeness to them, an easy naturalness in the way they chatted and had fun together, and I got the feeling – as stupid as it sounds – that they were like our two dads, with me and Jake as their kids in the back of the car.

    Tonight hadn’t been any fun at all, though. Uncle Rob’s girlfriend, Debbie, had come over for a meal and all the banter and jokes had very abruptly stopped. The meal was formal and the conversation stilted, and as soon as we’d been able to, Jake and I had disappeared up to his bedroom together.

    “Have you ever done any dude stuff?” Jake asked, and I assumed he meant sex with guys.

    “A couple of years ago, when I was like sixteen or something, I used to jerk off with my mate Pete,” I told him. “Over at his place, right after school.”

    “Did you jerk each other’s dicks too?”

    I nodded and blushed. I didn’t know why I felt so hung-up about admitting stuff like this since, not only had I wanked off with my cousin a couple of nights earlier, he’d proudly told me that he had full butt-sex with other guys, both as giver and receiver.

    Jake smiled. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Shane. It’s really nice – a bit fraternal, I guess – for guys get intimate with each other, even guys who both happen to fancy girls.”

    I nodded again. “Yeah – that’s how it felt. I liked being with Pete like that, rubbing our dicks together and smiling at each other. It was fun to reach over and flog each other off. Sort of naughty but nice, if you know what I mean.”

    Jake grinned. “A bit like the two of us the other night…?”

    “Yeah,” I smiled. “A lot like that.”

    Then he asked, “Did you ever reach a bit further back and finger each other’s hot little butts?”

    “No,” I giggled, amused by his phrasing of the question. “It wouldn’t really have occurred to me to do something like that and I’m sure it would never have crossed Pete’s mind in a million years.”

    “Did you ever suck each other off? A bit of sixty-nining with your school trousers yanked down…”

    I shook my head. “Again no. It would have seemed too gay for me to suggest something like that, even if I’d have wanted to. I know you say it isn’t necessarily gay for two guys to play around together, and I kind of get that… but to me back then, it would have seemed like I was coming onto Pete if I’d suggested we should suck each other’s dicks.”

    “Pity, mate,” Jake smiled. “You missed a good time.”

    “I doubt it… Pete was a Queensland lad and very old fashioned. It would have been totally awkward doin’ anything like that with him.”

    “Would it fuck!” Jake chortled. “Well, maybe at first, but once you’d got started and got past your embarrassment, believe me, mate – you’d have been well into each other and slamming your pricks down each other’s throats!”

    “You reckon!?” I laughed back.

    “I know it!” he grinned. “You should see me and my mate Marcus! We were a bit weirded out by getting sexy with each other the first night we did stuff, but now we’re like a pair of fucking rabbits!”

    “So it is your mates you mainly crack onto?” I asked, recalling my original question.

    “Mates… friends of friends… guys who give me the eye…”

    I was about to ask him how he knew he was being given the eye, when Jake suddenly remembered something and sat bolt upright before grabbing his phone.

    “I’ve got some stuff on here you might wanna see… me and Marcus fooling around in my room at uni…”

    “What… havin’ gay sex… er, dude sex, I mean…?”

    “Yeah, playing around together on my bed. I’ll let you see what the two of us look like… as long as it won’t freak you out too much!”

    “Of course not,” I quickly agreed, hardly believing what he was offering to show me. “I’d be really interested…”

    He scrolled through his movies and located the one he wanted. As he found the right part I was wondering if I could get my hands on his phone and have a squiz through the rest. How much fun would that be?!

    He passed me it and I stared at the screen in awe. I couldn’t believe how fabulous he and his mate looked, writhing around bollock-naked together on his messed-up doona.

    The mate was blond haired, muscular and as fit as fuck. He and Jake were wrestling around together, laughing and trying to pin each other down, and I realised both of them were trying to get their hard-ons into the other one’s mouth. I kept seeing the mate’s cock, bobbing stiffly around between his legs, and although it had a good meaty size it didn’t look quite so impressive compared to Jake’s massive shlong which kept flashing into view.

    “How do we look?” Jake asked me eagerly.

    “Kinda tasty,” I understated it, with a sheepish grin.

    “Only kind of?” he chuckled, leaning over to see the screen. On the movie, he’d managed to roll his mate over and was jabbing his big curving dick roughly into the blond boy’s bubble-butt. They were laughing wildly together, as Jake’s broad purple helmet kept pushing in between the pert round arse-cheeks underneath him, until the mate managed to buck him off so that Jake ended up being the one pinned-down with a hard-on looming over his giggling face.

    “Okay, I admit it,” I grinned. “It actually looks pretty spectacular…”

    “You’ve seen guys doing stuff together in porn… did you think that was ‘spectacular’ too?”

    “The stuff I saw at home was a bit… I dunno… kissy-cuddly for me… the boys were too girlie and it was more about the romance. You two guys look like mates having fun together… just two lads enjoying getting sexy with each other’s fit-looking bodies…”

    Jake smiled, liking the compliment, and then asked, “What about the stuff of mine you took a look at on the F drive?”

    “Yeah, I liked that,” I admitted, annoyed that I could still feel my cheeks blush even though I clearly had nothing to be ashamed about in this house. “It was kinda tasty too.”

    Jake smiled and grabbed the phone from me. “I’ll move it on to the best bit.”

    He passed it back to me and I saw that they were now sixty-nining. Jake was on top, bucking his hips and driving about half of his long, sweeping cock into his mate’s gaping mouth. His own lips were slurping up and down his mate’s thinner erection, consuming and expelling it with rough, rapid movements.

    “Jesus Christ!” I said, totally entranced by the sight of them.

    The mate had his fingers wedged in Jake’s butt-crack as he sucked him, groping around as if searching for my cousin’s well-worked hole. Jake pulled off from his cock and I heard his tinny speaker voice call out, “Oh yeah!” The mate’s hand started sliding in and out between his flexing cheeks and I realised I was watching Jake having his arsehole fingered.

    “So how tasty is this?” Jake asked me. “Still only ‘kinda’…?”

    “I reckon the front of my jeans can answer that one for me!”

    Jake looked down at my zipper and laughed at how hefty my bulge was. Then he beamed an encouraging smile at me, pleased no doubt that I was overcoming my embarrassment about what I was packing down there.

    I returned my eyes to the movie and saw the mate release Jake’s cock from his mouth. He pushed his head upwards, licking my cousin’s big, solid nut-sack and then kept going, still licking, as he worked his nose and mouth into the furry crack his fingers had just vacated.

    Jake did the same, licking lower between his mate’s thick, chunky legs. He gave the ball-bag a good kissing as he headed south, and then pushed his face still lower and craned his neck to get a taste of the hairy furrow behind it.

    I looked up at Jake, puzzled. “Are you guys now doing what I think you’re doing?”

    He grabbed the phone off me and looked at it. “Oh shit!” he laughed. “I’d forgotten we did that!”

    “Were you licking each other’s arse-cracks?”

    “We were rimming each other, yeah. I told you I like to eat dude-butt!”

    “Can I take another look at it?” I asked. “It’s like a sixty-nine but a bit more… I dunno…”

    “Bummy?” he grinned, almost triumphantly. “It’s an anal sixty-nine, or at least that’s what I call it.”

    He passed me the phone and I had a good perv at him and his mate with their faces buried hungrily into each other’s arses. They were feasting on each other, both kissing and licking their buddies’ wrinkled poopers, with their noses wedged deep between each other’s squat muscly cheeks.

    “Do you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” I smirked at him.

    “I sure do,” he chuckled, “but she keeps wondering why I’ve got such shitty breath!”

    I had to laugh at that. “You dirty bastard, Jake Furlong!”

    “We share a lot of genes, you and me, bud,” he reminded me. “I bet there’s a little bit of you that’d be into that kinda thing.”

    “No way!” I called out. “The stink of another guy’s back-alley would floor me for def!”

    “It doesn’t stink,” he said back, “at least not in a bad way. I mean, you’d think it would – you’d think it would be gross – but it’s actually really sexy shoving your face in another dude’s dirt-box!”

    “Sexy?” I asked incredulously. “It’d make me spew! Fuckin’ oath it would!”

    “If it’s so awful why did it turn me and my mate Marcus on so much?”

    That was a good question and I gestured for the phone. “Pass it here, mate… let me see you guys doing it again…”

    I peered at their cocks thrusting between their sweaty chests as they mauled each other’s butts. Their thick rods were both rock hard and their swollen helmets were glistening. It looked like they were pumping out precum as fast as their tongues could dribble spit, and I wondered if – just maybe – rimming a guy’s arse would really be as horny as Jake claimed.

    “Okay… fair enough,” I nodded. “You both look like you’re pretty cool with it…”

    He chuckled and grinned at me. “Have you ever eaten out a girl… her pussy I mean?”

    I shook my head, knowing I was blushing again. “I haven’t done very much at all with a girl, if I’m being totally honest.”

    “Well, you can believe me, mate,” he grinned. “Eating out a girl is hot, but tongue-fucking a dude’s bunghole is smoking!”

    “I reckon I’m gonna have to take your word on that, Jake!”

    “I reckon you don’t have to,” he replied, his face becoming more serious.

    When I threw him a questioning look he went on, “I mean, you could give it a try if you’re curious. We’re cousins so it’s kinda like keeping it in the family…”

    At first I didn’t understand – the dregs of the jet-lag and all the wine I’d drank to dull the awkwardness of the meal slowing my faculties. But then I realised what he was saying, and asked, “You mean you’re offering me to lick your backside…?”

    “Not lick it, just have a little sniff… see if you like it.”

    “Come on Jake, get real,” I tried to laugh. “You’re my cousin and I reckon you’re ace, mate, but I’m not gonna go sniffing around your doody-hole!”

    He smiled back at me. “I’m only offering because you looked so interested in seeing me and Marcus doing it, and you admitted it could be ‘chipper’ which I assume means good…”

    “I don’t wanna knock yer back, Jake, but it’s your cutter… your fucking mud-flaps, dude.” I had to really force myself to act like this was a normal conversation; that this was just dicking around talk between two doofy lads.

    “You can’t be that grossed out by it!” he laughed. “You didn’t have much trouble shoving your finger up it when we were wanking off!”

    “Only ’cause you grabbed my hand and pushed it back there!”

    “I didn’t make you stick your finger out, Shane! Or force you to slide it up my fudge tunnel!”

    I laughed back. “Yeah… you’ve got a point there! But putting my face down there, mate… it’s a bit of a big ask…”

    “I’m not asking you to do it,” he shrugged. “I’m just making the offer if you want to see what it’s like. I’d keep my shorts pulled up if you think my bare arse would be too weird.”

    “You seem bloody keen to get my face stuck in your butt…”

    “I just want to be your guinea pig to prove that it’s dead sexy. Not doing it with me specifically, but doing it with another guy… maybe a lad you know back home…”

    As whack as it sounds, the way he was selling it was making me start to feel quite tempted.

    Jake’s permissive approach to sex was proving a real lightning bolt for me. I’d never been that interested in homo stuff, but the Jake’s attitude towards it – as something that was laddish and playful and a bit of fun between mates – was giving it a new appeal that I was curious to explore.

    Would I do something like this back home in Brisbane, I wondered? Maybe I would if I found a guy with the same easy-going view, and only if I could do it in a way that my dad would never get wind of.

    “I’ll just hitch my jeans down,” he went on, “so you can have a little sniff of the back of my boxers. If it grosses you out, we’ll just have a laugh about how skanky my arse is. But if you like it… well, at least you’ll know that it’s something you might want to try sometime.”

    “What if your dad comes in?” I asked, feeling about twelve.

    He shrugged. “He wouldn’t see it as a big deal… but it’s not very likely ’cause he’s probably smooching with the lovely Debbie.”

    I wondered if they’d have sex and if we’d hear them. The walls in this house didn’t seem especially well soundproofed.

    Jake stood up and grinned. “You want a little whiff of my boy-butt, then?”

    I nodded, hardly believing I really was about to do this. He turned around and undid his belt and the buttons on his fly.

    “You won’t fart will you?” I asked.

    “Of course I fucking won’t,” he snapped. “I want you to enjoy it.”

    He yanked his daks down so that I could see his butt-cheeks looking plump and pudgy in his tight-fitting Diesel boxer-trunks. Their colour was light blue and I was relieved that between his two round buns there was no sign of anything like a skid-mark.

    “You’re def not having me on?” I asked, wondering if he was secretly filming me about to press my face into his butt so he could take the piss afterwards.

    “No way!” Jake assured me. “I showed you how much I like doing it… that movie wasn’t like staged or anything… you could see it was pukka, mate!”

    Well that much was true. You couldn’t set up something like that as a joke.

    I knelt down behind and took a hesitant sniff about two inches away from the material of his shorts. I couldn’t really smell anything. At best, there was a very slight whiff a bit like locker-room sweat.

    “Not from way out there, man!” Jake huffed, reaching down to urge me forward by the shoulder. “You’ve got to push your face in a bit, get a proper smell of my crack!”

    “I’ll go in as close as I’m happy to, Jake,” I called up to him, shrugging his hand off me. “Don’t try and push me further than I want to… if I don’t like it, I don’t want you to force me…”

    “I’m not gonna fucking force you, bud! You just need to get up close… get the full effect!”

    I really wasn’t sure about this, but I pushed my face into the material of his jocks and took a long, deep sniff of them. To my amazement, they smelled kind of interesting. Not shitty or grodey like you’d expect from a dude’s bum. More sexy and manly – like the locker-room odour I’d just got a whiff off, but now much stronger and more intense, a sort of distillation of the blokey funk you get after a really rowdy, sweaty match.

    I sniffed again, more deeply, and even wedged my nose between his cheeks, feeling like a dog sniffing another dog’s butt. The smell inside his crack was even richer and sexier and I actually felt my cock starting to tingle in my jocks at how thrilling and intoxicating this guy’s smell was back here.

    “Do you like it?” Jake called down, the broad grin in his voice showing that he knew full well how much I did.

    I pulled out from his underwear and called back, “It’s like loadsa guys all together after sport… so pungent and potent it makes your head spin!”

    “Do you like that kind of smell?” he asked.

    “When I’m part of it… yeah… it feels like you’re all in the team… it makes you feel as if there’s a connection between you…”

    “Well, that’s what rimming’s like,” he smiled. “You get a real buzz of togetherness and intimacy. I dunno why but it makes it even more intense that it’s another lad you’re feeling it with…”

    I could now see exactly where he was coming from and, even though it still felt totally deaky to be kneeling here sniffing my cousin’s butt like this, I was pleased he was showing me the appeal of the ‘dude sex’ he obviously found such an important part of his love life.

    I was flattered that he was, in his way, teaching me this stuff, so I could maybe do it for real if I found the right sort of guy with the right attitude.

    He yanked the back of his shorts down a bit, revealing to me his bare butt-cheeks.

    “Whoa! Rein it back in, fella!” I called up, but Jake just grinned down at me.

    “Have a sniff of the real deal, mate. Once you’ve had your nose in there, I swear to god, you’ll be gagging to rim somebody!”

    I stared at his bum, equally tempted and appalled by the wiry fur bristling out from his crack. I could just about smell it from back where I was: earthy and bitter, thick and enticing.

    “I dunno, mate,” I muttered. “It’s your fuckin’ bare-nuddie arse, Jake.”

    “Just a little whiffter, Shane… just to see what it’s like…”

    He was a bit spotty between his cheeks, especially low down where his dick-stretched ringpiece would be hiding. Apart from that, though, I had to admit my cousin had a nice-looking butt. The cheeks were chunky and solid and had a squat roundness to them, although the hairy crack between them might take a bit of getting used to.

    I leaned forwards and eased my nose into his warm, fuzzy cleft. Even before I’d breathed in I knew the smell was delicious. Just the merest hint of it, a few stray molecules diffusing up my nostrils, brought about in me the most incredible rush.

    I moved further into him, gaining in confidence, and inhaled his most private of musks as deeply as I could. I loved the dry acrid scent in here – who could have known that a guy’s arse could smell so exciting! My cock was steadily pumping up like an airbed rhythmically expanding and thickening inside my shorts.

    Jake called out in encouragement, “Ah yeah! Get right in there!” and bent over for me to get further stuck in. I wedged my nose as deep as I could into his wiry crack, burrowing my face into his round, supple cheeks.

    I couldn’t get enough of his stink… except, it wasn’t really a stink. It was a lovely, rich and intensely masculine smell, something that I knew would be subtly unique to Jake. It was personal and special, I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. It made me feel like we were as close as two guys can get and, in spite of all our years of separation, we had a deep, powerful bond.

    Then I licked him – Jesus, I can hardly believe I actually licked his chuff – and tasted the flavour of my cousin’s hot, swollen ring.

    He loved the feel of my tongue on his well-fucked tail-pipe and grabbed the back of my head and pushed me forward. He shouted back to me, “Come on, lick me out! Eat my fucking dumpster… slide your tongue in and out!”

    I wanted to rim him – I reckon I was even more turned-on as Jake had been when he’d been feasting on his mate’s blond butt – but I kept reminding myself that this guy was my cousin and that made me pull back against the demands of his hand.

    I got to my feet, panting for breath, and I realised my cock was as hard as granite in the front of my jeans.

    “I’m sorry, Jake,” I gasped, “I can’t go that far… you’re my cousin, mate!”

    Jake turned around, hitching his jocks back up, and smirked at the very obvious full-grown mongrel my daks were struggling to contain.

    “Cousins can get married,” he said. And then seeing my startled reaction, quickly added, “I mean that it’s legal for cousins to be intimate… that’s what I was trying to say.”

    “I know it’s legal, but it wouldn’t feel right, that’s all…”

    “But you enjoyed it?” he asked, fastening himself up.

    “It was fuckin’ ripper, mate!” I grinned, wondering how much my face stunk of his arse. Good job Uncle Rob wouldn’t be expecting a goodnight kiss when he turned in for the night.

    “I really didn’t think I’d go for it,” I went on, adjusting myself and thankful that my chopper was already starting to soften after its sudden blood rush. “I guess I must like boy butt and I never even knew it!”

    He laughed at that. “You are so like me first time I did it,” he said. “I reckon we’ve got a lot in common, you and me.”

    “The Furlong gene again?” I asked him with a chuckle.

    “Could well be,” he nodded back.

    I suddenly saw that the movie on the phone was still playing.

    “Fuckin’ hell, mate!” I called out. “You’re having your arsehole rooted for real on there!”

    Jake was on all-fours and the blond guy was squatting down behind him, fucking my cousin very roughly up the arse.

    Jake grabbed the phone and laughed at the sight of the two of them. “Oh Jesus, Shane! I’m really sorry, bud! Are you totally appalled by that?”

    I took the phone off him and looked at him having his backside slammed hard and fast by another guy’s cock. The blond guy was loving it, that much was obvious. He was really into knobbing his mate’s bumhole and his big, dangly bollocks were slapping against the back of Jake’s thighs.

    But Jake too was clearly enjoying getting rooted. His huge cock was raised up at full crank and pointing forwards underneath his belly, and his face grinning enthusiastically as he called out encouragement to spur on the blond guy’s thrusts.

    “I’m not appalled, no,” I told him. “I don’t find sex between dudes disgusting or anything like that!”

    “When we wanked off together you seemed kinda shocked that I was up for giving anal…”

    “I just hadn’t realised that guys who don’t consider themselves gay would do stuff like this together…”

    He nodded. “So now you know that’s what I’m into… that quite a few lads I know get together like this… how do you feel about it?”

    “I dunno…” I shrugged, glancing at the fit mate on the screen banging away at my cousin’s mud muscle. “I guess I’m just wondering why the fuck you’re not wankin’ your dick off when you’re so obviously loving having him shag your brains out!”

    Jake laughed at that and grabbed the phone back off me. He swiped the playback forward and showed me how things progressed after his blond mate must have cum.

    Now Jake was the guy with his dick ball-deep in butt. He was going at it like a stallion, holding his mate steady by grabbing his shoulders, pounding his hips against the blond guy’s buttocks and making long, sweeping jabs with the entire shaft of his big cock.

    “If I’d wanked off, I’d have missed breeding his arse!” he chuckled.

    I smiled that he’d call it that. Of all the stuff he was doing to his mate’s bum, breeding must be the least likely outcome.

    “Is that how you like doing it best?” I asked. “Lookin’ at the back of the other guy’s head…?”

    “I prefer giving,” he nodded. “But I like taking it too.”

    I stared at the screen, watching my cousin have an orgasm up another boy’s bottom. It looked like he was really seeding the guy, making long, powerful thrusts right up into his guts as he climaxed, and I wondered if after having dude sex, as he called it, it was normal for both guys to have to go and sit on the loo.

    “Which way round do you think you would like it?” my cousin asked me.

    I shrugged. I really had no idea.

    “I never really thought about it,” I told him. “I’ve never thought o’ gay stuff as my bowl o’ rice.”

    He crouched down on the floor and got on all fours with his bum sticking out.

    “Get down behind me,” he said. “Shove your crotch against my arse. See how it feels to be in the position Marcus was.”

    I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of this, but as we both had our jeans on it wasn’t like we could do anything for real.

    I knelt down behind him and shuffled up between his shins. I grabbed his hips with both hands and pressed the front of my jeans against the cheeks of his bum. His arse felt lovely and solid, even through the material of his jeans and undies, and I was surprised at how pleasant it was to be in the bum sex position with another young guy.

    “Ah, that’s dead nice, that is,” Jake said, gyrating his butt-crack up and down my soft squidgy dick. “You’re packing a nice bit of meat between your legs, Shaney boy!”

    I chuckled at the silly name he’d given me, holding his hips firm as I worked my bulge against the tight furrow between his cheeks.

    “How’s it feel for you?” he asked. “You getting horny?”

    “Not really,” I smiled, still bucking my hips as if I was doing my cousin up the butt. “But it feels more comfortable… more natural… than I would have expected.”

    “More natural?”

    He was really working his back-end against my package – really pushing the lower part of his crease, where his little brown eye would be winking, as hard as he could into my big floppy cock. It was obvious that this was turning him on and I sort of wished that it was doing something for me.

    “Yeah… I guess I would have thought it would feel weird to be like this… in an anal position with another dude, I mean. But it feels all right, actually… not especially sexy, but not uncomfortable either.”

    “Look at yourself in my wardrobe mirror,” he suggested, trying to rub my dick hard with the crack of his arse. “Does it look wrong for you to be like this with another guy?”

    I peered over at us, him kneading my crotch between his round beefy buns, and me upright behind him, grinning eagerly like my cock was getting itself some serious brown love.

    “No,” I replied, “it doesn’t look wrong at all. Part of me likes it… but mainly ’cause I know how much it would ape my dad out if he could see me like this!”

    Jake laughed and pulled away from me. “Okay, mate – if this isn’t doing it for you, let’s swap positions. Maybe you’ll like bending over and having my set of gear poking into your arse…”

    We changed roles but I wasn’t expecting to enjoy being the guy out front either.

    “I’ve never particularly enjoyed bendin’ over before,” I said, thinking that things like tying my shoelaces had never held any excitement for me. I’d certainly never fantasized about having a guy rub his pecker against my bum.

    But once I was crouched there on all-fours like he had been, and he was holding me by the hips and pressing his obvious half-bone against my arse, I realised that being like this was, for some reason, extremely erotic.

    “Sorry if I end up with a full-on porker, mate,” Jake said. “This position has quite a few… shall we say… pleasant associations for me!”

    I could feel his sconge growing steadily harder through his jeans and I was surprised at how fast mine was also growing bigger and thicker in my boxers.

    “Wow!” I muttered. “This is… er… quite something!”

    “You getting a stiffy of your own?” Jake chuckled.

    I looked across at his wardrobe mirror, amazed at how arousing I looked offering my bum to Jake’s crotch and bending over like I was ready to receive his cock up there. It looked proper gay – how could it not? – but at the same time it seemed so spectacularly hot. Why had I never thought about doing this before? Why had I never imagined myself in this position when I’d been beating off?

    “I can’t believe I’m actually runnin’ on full horn!” I laughed.

    He grabbed my hips more firmly and worked the mound of his growing rod against me. “I’m getting there too, mate… I just love doing doggy with another dude!”

    I ground my bum against Jake’s growing shaft through both our daks, loving how hard and solid it felt between my cheeks and amazed at how hot the two of us looked in his wardrobe mirror.

    He grabbed my shoulders and started thrusting roughly against my buttocks and I laughed at our reflection, both amused and incredibly turned-on by how sexy we looked pretending he was doing it gay-style with my bum.

    “You really like this, don’t you?” Jake asked, humping my arse like he was enjoying the feel of the friction against his dick.

    “I reckon I do, yeah,” I gasped. “I didn’t think I would… but… oh God! It feels so fuckin’ horny bendin’ over for a dude like this!”

    “You’re a proper little bum boy,” he laughed. “I bet you’d love a nice big blokey cock ramming away at your tight Aussie arse!”

    “I reckon I would,” I said back, realising I was panting. “I reckon it’d be sexy as fuck!”

    “I knew you would! We’re both Furlongs, mate… we have a lot in common!”

    He was right – my cock was now leaking and aching as it chaffed against my boxers. The front of my jeans was tenting painfully outwards and I wanted nothing more than to yank my zipper down and wank off while Jake forced his big swollen bulge into the crack of my backside.

    Without warning, Jake’s bedroom door swung open abruptly and his dad walked in on us like this, simulating butt-sex together. I blushed scarlet and tried to pull forwards away from his son, but he held my shoulders firm and kept rubbing his hard-on against my bum as if he hadn’t noticed we’d been interrupted.

    “Excuse me, gentleman,” Uncle Rob called over to us. To my surprise, instead of giving us aggro, he actually looked amused to have caught his son pretending to root my arse on his bedroom floor.

    Jake kept bucking his hips against my bum and I realised he didn’t care that his dad could see us in what was essentially a gay fuck position.

    He looked over to his dad and panted, “I’m just checking to see if Shane has the Furlong gene, dad!”

    Uncle Rob peered pointedly at the front of my straining jeans and chuckled, “I think it’s safe to say he has, Jake!”

    “Yeah, he definitely has the dick gene,” Jake grunted, grinding his large, solid lump between my cheeks so hard and so fast there’d be a nasty stain on the inside of my jocks. “But I think I’ve found another similarity!”

    Uncle Rob smiled and then said, “Look guys, Debbie and I are heading off to bed, so keep the noise down, if you would.”

    I found myself nodding obediently, still crouched there on all fours, unable to stop myself working my arse against Jake’s relentlessly thrusting mound.

    Before leaving the room Uncle Rob turned and quipped, “Just one word of advice, fellas. I find that what you’re doing works a whole lot better when you’ve got your trousers and underwear pulled down a bit!”

    Jake brayed with laughter but I just flushed an even deeper shade of crimson. Was he saying he didn’t mind if we hitched our clothes down and started butt-fucking for real? That while he was shagging his girlfriend, he was okay with hearing his son using his cousin’s arsehole to match his rhythm?

    Jesus, what sort of house had I pitched up in?

    In spite of Jake’s protests, I pulled away from him and said I was calling it a night. I went back to the spare room, locked the door, and decided I’d load up my backpack next morning so I could head off around Europe as I’d originally planned. I thought Jake was gold and I liked Uncle Rob too, but all this sex stuff was just way too weird.


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  • How to suck uncut cock

    Tricks on sucking uncut cock, a beginners guide written by a pro

    When you’re lucky enough to find a guy that’s uncut, don’t get grossed out or reject him because his parents made the choice to leave him intact. Enjoy what he has and heres how to orally please him. Most guys keep under their skin clean, it’s just a few guys that let it go and that’s kinda gross. But I’ve never found one to know if it is, I’ve heard it’s gross.

    Anyway……

    A bit about the skin. The inner foreskin is specialized skin. It’s moist and keeps the head protected from our clothing, Keeping it tender and soft. The skin of the head is very close if not the same as our lips. And I know we all know how to keep them moist, with our tongue or moisturizers or lip balms of some kind. The guys that are cut, their soft skin has ” keratinized” which is basically dried out and lots it sensitivity. When you see an unit cock head hard or soft, it’s usually soft, smooth and moist. Cut guys, dry, wrinkled and a bit rough. But there’s ways to help that, if you’re ever interested. Some guys have free motion of their skin and that’s always good. Those that don’t have what’s called phimosis, which is a tight opening at the opening of the foreskin. If you find one of these guys, do not pull back on the skin, ask him how far back it can go. Each guy like this has his own limits and respect these limits or you could cause lots of pain and even damage. Some guys are lucky enough to have extra skin, this is called acroposition which is a long foreskin. I dated a guy who had at least an inch of extra skin. For me this was incredibly hot to play with. There’s lots you can do with these guys, lots to nibble on too.

    When things get going, don’t just pull back the skin and suck like a cut cock. There’s more to it. Get his whole cock wet with your tongue, licking everywhere, it’s easier going up and down.

    Pull the skin all the way forward. The pucker of skin has over 30,000 nerve endings, who would have known. Slowly trace the pucker of skin with the tip of your tongue, just barely touch the skin, that’ll make him crazy. Another trick, is to gently nibble that same pucker of skin. Do it gently, practice the pressure by nibbling on your tongue to get the right amount of pressure, too much and it’s biting and thats a bad pain. So many if the uncut guys I have sucked, love getting nibbled on. Not sure why or how it’s pleasurable, but it is.

    One of the tricks I’ve learned will make his eyes roll back in his head and see his brain.

    If he’s lucky enough to to have a foreskin that pulls back all the way, he will love this. Carefully pull back the skin, remember gently. This is erotic & sexual, you don’t want to hurt or cause any bad pain. Slowly pull it back to reveal the whole head or glans in technical terms. On the underside of the head, where the two sides of the rim if the head meet, is where the foreskin attaches to the cock and the head. Most uncut guys don’t know that this is called the frenulum. This is one of the most sensitive spots of his cock. Sorry cut guys, yours is been removed for vanity reasons when your foreskin was removed, talk to your patents about that.

    That little spot is very delicate. Slowly lick up and down the frenulum with the tip of your tongue. Then with just the tip, very quickly, flick your tongue side to side. That’s when his eyes roll back and he sees his brain.

    Another thing that’s fun to do, as long as his skin pulls back all the way or even part way, is pulling the skin forward and sticking the tip of your tongue into the opening and trying to slide your tongue between the inside of the skin and the head. The guys love that.

    If the guy has phimosis, tight foreskin opening, one thing you can do I’d to us a bit of pressure and massage in circular motions, side to side or up and down on the skin right where the frenulum is.

    And if your comfortable doing it, when he cums, let him shoot in your mouth and show him his load, then swallow it. Guys no matter what, gay straight bi, they all love when you do that.

    Just remember, he’s got more nerve endings and take your slow sweet time on his cock. He will enjoy all the attention you’re giving him. Most guys just suck the guy off and back to what ever he was doing or in some cases, back to the wife, lol.

    Hope this helped some of you or gave you some more tricks. Also, each guy has his own thing that he likes, or dislikes. Always ask him what he doesn’t like done first, it’s easier to remember those than all the likes.

    And if you have questions, just ask me. One time I was chatting with a guy while he was grocery shopping, telling what I wanted to do to his cock & foreskin, he got so turned on and rock hard, that he shot his load while in the store. That’s how good you can be with the right skills.


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  • A Day at the Gloryhole

    A Day at the Gloryhole

    I had a day off and the wife Barbara was out of town. I was sitting at home looking at porn on the internet and decided it would be fun to go to an adult bookstore and see some action in the flesh. Even though I was straight I loved watching other guys jack off through a gloryhole.

    I hit I-20 and shot up the expressway to Kennedale. When I pulled into the parking lot the front was full so I had to park out back. A good sign. Inside I bought the required amount of token and pushed my way through the curtain to the booth area. I’d been in the booth for about five minutes when I heard the door open and close as someone entered the booth next door. He dropped tokens in the slot and the monitor came on and lit up the booth. When I put my eye to the hole he was dropping his shorts. Then he jacked off to a video and left. I was really hot and pretty soon another guy, jacked-off and left. Then I heard the door of the next booth open and close again. When the monitor and the light came on I leaned over and peeked through the hole. All I could see a guy’s hand fondling his crotch. Of course I was hoping that he would masturbate so that I could see his dick. He didn’t masturbate, but I did get my wish. When he took his dick out, instead of masturbating, held it toward the hole so that I could get a good look at it.

    It was then that I remember that the signal if you wanted the guy to stick his dick through the hole was to laid your index finger in the ‘hole’ then. Not sure why I was doing it, my hand shook, with a combination of excitement and fear, as I slowly place my finger in the hole.

    He had his dick in the ‘hole’ so quick that he almost laid it on my finger.

    As a novice I had no idea what I was supposed to do, so I touched it. I couldn’t believe the feel. Even soft, it radiated both power and heat. It seemed to be a separate enmity from the rest of his body as it pulsed with a life all its own. I played with it for a while and then eventually I got up the nerve to ease back its foreskin and kiss its head.

    I guess the other guys got bored, because he jerked his dick out of the ‘hole’ and stormed out of his booth.

    My next try proved a little more successful. It was hard to tell through the ‘hole’ but the guy appeared to a young Hispanic with a small un-cut dick. I was still pretty inept since I’d never done this before but at least this time I manage to get it into my mouth and make him cum. He was only about half hard when I took it in my mouth. But it quickly grew and hardened. When he cummed it had a salty taste and felt all slimy as it oozed over my tongue and down my throat and I loved it.

    Another guy entered the adjoining booth, without even waiting for an invitation he stuck his dick through the ‘hole’. It was only about four inches long, but nice and fat and looked very suck-able. Still excited from sucking my first dick, I quickly took it in my mouth and slurped on his dick for a few minute until his balls erupted and I was swallowing his load of hot gooey cum.

    When the guy left the door didn’t even close before another guy took his place. When he saw through the ‘hole’ that I was still down on my knees, he didn’t waste any time getting his dick through the ‘hole.’

    His dick was a little bigger and just as suck able as the last guy’s. He held out a little longer, but once I clamped my lips around his shaft and started bobbing my mouth up and down it wasn’t long until he was cumming in my mouth and down my throat.

    I was about ready to leave when I heard someone else enter the adjoining booth, I leaned over to see who it was. I was looking through the hole and when he put money in slot and started the video the booth lit up, I could see him standing up rubbing his cock through his pants, which is a bIG turn on for me. I could see by his hand it was a black guy.

    It wasn’t long before he unzipped his pants and pulled out a huge un-cut beautiful black cock I’d ever seen. It was an ebony monster, perfectly shaped and it had to be at least 9-inches long. I watched, feeling hotter than I could ever remember. He noticed me looking and turned toward the hole so that I’d know that he wanted it sucked.

    For some reason I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes from the ‘hole’. His dick was so big and black that I was awe struck. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. It was pulsing with a life of its own.

    To this day I don’t know how it got there, but when I looked down my finger was in the ‘hole.’ When, in response to my finger, he stuck his dick in the ‘hole,’ I couldn’t believe the raw power and the heat that I could feel radiating from it. As I leaned forward my face was so close that I could see the blood throbbing through the rope like veins that lined its ten-inch length. The golf ball size head looked like a huge purple plum peeking out of its coal black foreskin.

    My hand still had a mind of its own, as I helplessly reached out and touched it with one finger. When I bravely wrapped my hand around it, it felt like a piece of flesh-covered steel. It was so alive that I could feel its heat on my face, as I leaned forward and inhaled its wild untamed earth aroma. I could feel my eyes glazing over with lust, as I eased back its foreskin and touched its dark purple shaped head to my lips. I had to open my mouth so wide to get its big head between my lips and into my mouth, that I almost had to un-hinge my jaw.

    Even with both hands wrapped around the base, I still had more than a mouth full of black dick to suck. I almost couldn’t contain my excitement as I circled the base with a thumb and index finger, I slowly worked my moist mouth up and down its length.

    His balls suddenly clinched up and his dick swelled even fatter. My mouth was so full that I couldn’t have gotten his dick out of my mouth, even if I’d tried. His balls exploded and scalding hot salty cum spewed into my mouth like lava out of a volcano. When he erupted, I was on a backstroke and my lips were wrapped around the base of his head, so I felt the full force of his gooey cum crashing against the back of my throat as it gushed into my mouth and oozed over my tongue and down my throat.

    He left and I was a confirmed gloryhole freak! 

    The end…


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  • A Blowjobs Afternoon

    A Blowjobs Afternoon

    My girlfriend Linda was out of town and I can’t find my friends, so I needed something to pass the afternoon. I often went to the local Adult Bookstore to trade blowjobs on a Saturday afternoon. Besides loving to suck and to be sucked, I think it makes me a better fuck with my girlfriend Linda on Saturday night. 

    Well, this afternoon, I had nothing else to do and didn’t need to save anything for Saturday night. I decided this trip to the Adult Bookstore would be one to remember I loaded my backpack with my Polaroid camera, film, a small battery powered lamp to light the booth and a small towel to keep my knees off the cum-covered floor. I also had two rolls ($20 worth) of quarters. 

    I drove the 15 miles to my favorite bookstore with its glory holes with the mission to suck and be sucked until I was all sucked out. 

    The guys behind the counter know what was in my backpack and have no problem with me bring in my ‘supplies.’ I’ve traded blowjobs with them right behind the counter when there were no other customers around. 

    I got an additional $5 of tokens and headed downstairs. 

    This bookstore had 2 pair of glory hole booths. I took the one furthest in back. I spread out my towel, turned on the lamp and got the camera ready. 

    By the time I put a token in the slot, there was already a cock poking through into my booth. This one was short, barely 4 inches, I’d guess, but it was thick with a huge reddish-purple head. I licked it up one side and down the other. I swirled my tongue around the head, under it and tried to French kiss the pee-slit in the end. 

    The moans on the other side of the wall told me he wouldn’t last long. 

    I have two rules for Glory Hole Cocks. The first, if it stinks I want nothing to do with it. The second, I only suck guys who suck me. They don’t have to make me cum, swallow or anything like that. But if they won’t take my cock into their mouth, why should I suck them? 

    So I pulled my lips off this short, fat cock and waited until he pulled back. When he pulled back, my cock followed his cock through the hole into his booth. I didn’t have to wait long to feel those hot lips on my cock. I didn’t need to cum right away. I expected to be here for quite a while. When I tried to pull back, he just held on to my cock and kept sucking. I blew a big load and heard him swallow it all down. 

    I pulled back and his cock followed mine back into my booth. I was back on my knees, but I could barely get my lips around this huge cock-head! I was afraid of dragging my teeth across his cock, so I just licked it like a lolly-pop. 

    When I felt he was about to cum, I puckered my lips around the slit end and sucked his cum like I was sucking a milkshake through a straw. Hot, thick, and salty, a great load. 

    I have pictures of the big reddish-purple head sticking through the wall and of my big puckered kiss as I slurped his cum. 

    A moment or two after he pulled out and left, another finger signaled through the glory hole for my cock. I gladly accepted a very aggressive blowjob but pulled back without cumming. 

    With a finger in the hole I signaled for his cock and a small, very small yellow Hawaiian/Asian looking cock came through. I quickly snapped a picture of it. I love small cocks. They get so hard. I took it into my mouth, this was more like French kissing than a blowjob. Mostly tongue action. In a minute or less, big strands of hot gooey cum coated my throat. Then, he was gone.

    The next cock was very long, very thin and very black.

    If I had brought lube, this one would have gone up my ass. I took several pictures of this one, just to document how long it was, as well as how much I could take down my throat. There had to be 9 or 10 inches sticking through the hole. I’ll admit, I got carried away enough that I forgot rule number two. I started devouring this black stud’s dick and gave him total deep throat with plenty of tongue action.

     After a while of sucking and bobbing up and down on his thick shaft, I had his cock lodged in my throat as he dumped a suddenly a jolted by a hot gush of thick cum which choked me a little. 

    I was so caught up in lust that I never checked to see if he would suck me. I kept sucking as he softened. 

    He pulled out, zipped up and was gone. 

    When the next guy entered the booth, I noticed that he didn’t close the door. There were three or four guys standing around, presumably waiting for their turn. 

    I thought if he wanted them to watch, they could watch him suck me off first. I stuck my cock through the hole and he started to stroke it. I heard him getting encouragement from the guys watching and then I felt him take my cock deep into his mouth. I let him suck for about three minutes and then I pulled my dick back into my booth and dropped to my knees. 

    No signal was necessary. His cock was through the hole by the time my knees hit the floor. It was ‘average’ size about 6-inches, pink and circumcised and pointing almost straight up. I got a picture as soon as it came through the hole. I wrapped my lips around the head and decide to just polish the hell out of his knob with my tongue. 

    I sucked hard, keep the teeth away and give short it fast strokes around the head. When he started cumming I thought it would never end. There was gush after gush, after gush. 

    When he left, the next one in line came in and again left the door open. And again I thought they should watch him suck me first. I only let him suck me for a minute or so and then I dropped to my knees and watched through the hole as he stripped. 

    When he pulled down his underwear, a bigger than average cock flopped out. He stroked it a few times and then moved forward pushing his semi hard dick through the hole. 

    I was really getting into it so as soon as it came through I grabbed hold of it and engulfed it all the way down to his pubic hair and started sucking it, As I worked my tongue on the head of his now very big and hard cock, it was apparent from his moaning that he liked what I was doing. 

    At this point I started to moan as I bobbed up and down, I knew the others outside the booth heard me, I wanted them to. 

    It didn’t take long before his cock swelled even larger and I felt the first blast hit the back of my throat. I had the head deep in my mouth and had to back up to receive his load. On my tongue. 

    He pulled back, I sat there on my knees cum dripping down my chin and watched as he started to jerk it off for his final load. 

    Not knowing what to do I stuck my tongue through the hole. 

    I felt the head of his cock resting on my tongue as his cock again began to pump out more cum. Then he pushed his dick back through the hole and left it as I finished sucking it limp. 

    This went on for a little over 90 more minutes.

     I’d set a goal of sucking off a dozen guys but my total was 14. Four were black guys…the long skinny cock, two big, uncut cocks and one hard, cut, jet black cock. Three were yellowish Hawaiian or Asian,  little index-finger sized, rock hard cocks full of cum. 

    The remaining seven were generic white cocks…four cut and three uncut. 

    I was sucked by 13 guys and cummed in 2 different mouths. That made it one really great afternoon.  

    I shot three packs of Polaroid film, which was barely 2 pictures per cock. I only shot one picture of a few of the cocks, because I shot 3 or 4 of the couple ‘trophy’ cocks. 

    This was in the summer of 1977, long before we’d ever heard of herpes or AIDS. 

    Now that I’m older I’m glad that I have my pictures to help me remember this great afternoon. 

    The end…


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  • The Pretty Boy Sleep System

    Previously in Part1: Bobby, an aspiring underwear model, got a job sleeping naked chained to a mattress in the display window of a high-end bed and bath store. All seemed to be going well, but in retail sales it is always so difficult to sell the display model of anything. An unscrupulous salesmen sweetened the deal by offering Bobby as an accessory. Nobody told Bobby. Now, he is shrink-wrapped to a mattress being transported uptown in a moving truck.


    Poor Bobby never had any comprehension at all of the joyous, unprecedented celebration in the showroom that attended his departure. A red letter banner had been strung up across the store entrance saying Two Hundredth Pretty Boy Sleep System Sold! Inside of the store, Christoph had just accepted an award for Salesman of The Year because of his hard work to close this same 200th sale that Bobby unexpectedly got wrapped up in. There were kudos all around for the efforts of the sales team, and the mood was self-congratulatory.

    By coincidence, Christoph was also departing the showroom floor at exactly the same time that Bobby was making his grand exit. Strangely, even though Bobby and Christoph each owed some debt to each other for the achievement of this great milestone, neither one of them acknowledged the other at all. Christoph was departing to go on a three week cruise to The Bahamas as a reward for his sales achievement; Bobby was headed to an altogether different destination, but his journey would be no less of an adventure.

    Several of the partygoers remarked critically about the extremely unprofessional way that Bobby conducted himself at the celebration.

    “Did you see how when Christoph left, Bobby made no gesture at all to congratulate him for his achievement – didn’t even acknowledge him?”

    Another guy observed that Bobby was a bit of a showboat who always had to be the center of attention. “He doesn’t have enough class to just step back and let Christoph have his moment without hogging the limelight for himself.”

    “Yeah, really. That kid needs to just get over himself. He’s got a big cock, alright, but it’s not nearly as big as his ego.”

    Someone else laughed uproariously.

    “Well, he’s so young. I just attribute it to immaturity. He’s clearly just not ready to swim with the big boys.”

    “But, didn’t it seem sometimes like he was really spaced out, like, almost catatonic even. That was weird, wasn’t it?”

    “He’s probably stoned out of his mind on drugs. All these super-models are zonked out half the time on drugs.” (It is always fun to say mean things about super-models at a party, because it shows everyone that the speaker knows lots of super-models and can generalize.)

    Another person came with something important to share. “Well, Christoph told me that … yesterday … Bobby … suddenly came storming out of that display window in a rage, marching through the showroom buck naked … (and, you know how he parades himself around all the time) … and … he demanded that Christoph stop what he was doing immediately and run out to buy him lunch!”

    “He needs catered food service now? What a fucking prima donna!”

    “He humiliated Christoph in front of an important customer. It almost seemed like Bobby was trying to sabotage Christoph and jeopardize his award.”

    “What a manipulative little bastard! I had no idea he was like that.”

    Another salesman joined the discussion also. “OK, now I have a real bombshell for you. Listen. Ernie told me that Bobby told him some really strange things … perverted sex things, you know … that in turn led Ernie to suspect that Bobby might actually be … (whispering significantly) … a male prostitute!”

    “I knew it.”

    “Well, you know why they had to bring in that industrial steam cleaner and spend so much time cleaning up the display model, don’t you?”

    “No. Why?”

    “Crabs.”

    “Are … are we all right? We don’t all have to get checked out now do we?”

    They all suddenly realized that they never really knew the real Bobby, and this manipulative, depraved, drug addict with crabs had somehow wormed his way into their lives. They felt so relieved now knowing that he was gone.

    James sat with Bobby in the back of the moving truck while Sam drove them all uptown. At one point he squeezed Bobby’s big toe and said, “You be a good boy now. You’re going to make someone very happy.”

    Sam and James transported Bobby slowly uptown through the dense, honking, irritable gridlock traffic that characterizes midtown Manhattan during the holiday shopping season. Progress was grinding and slow. Sam and James also had several other deliveries to make along the way. No hurry. They’d started packing up at 5:00 am sharp. They finally left the store a little after 9:00 am. They stopped for a late breakfast at the Empire Diner. They had plenty of time to deliver Bobby to his new home by the 4:00 pm cut-off. Bobby was fine. You’d occasionally see him wiggle his toes.

    Again, there was shuffling around and some swearing. Bobby and the mattress were wedged diagonally into an elevator, then edged corner by corner down a narrow hallway. There was some hassle with a door that had to be taken off its hinges to get him in.

    When someone yelled “Surprise!” and several others in unison blew loud party horns, Bobby mistakenly thought it was just his penis transponder again passing through yet another security corridor. He was unwittingly rolled into the middle of a surprise birthday party in which he was the surprise. Sometimes a girl jumps out of a cake. Sometimes a naked boy rolls in shrink-wrapped to a mattress. Comme ci comme ça.

    “Oh my god! I’ve never seen anything like it! Alvin, you shouldn’t have!

    “It’s so … so ……… so ….”

    “Thank you, dear! It’s lovely!”

    With a practiced ear you could tell that the recipient was straining to be polite and gracious about an epic gifting fail, and the gift giver was trying to salvage the situation by pointing out all of the attractive features that the receiver might have missed at first glance.

    “He’s a really good looking boy, Terrance, don’t you think?”

    “Come here. Look at his big feet. See how they wiggle when I tickle him? I just thought he looked amazing when I saw him in the display window with his foot sticking out under the sheet. He was adorable!”

    “Terrance. Look. Look. Have you ever seen sheets with a thread count like this? I never have!”

    There were other gifts to be opened also, and toasting with champagne, blowing out of candles, and distributing slices of birthday cake to everyone. The movers discreetly asked Alvin if he still wanted the items moved upstairs to the bedroom now.

    Alvin said, “Oh, of course. Terrance is just a little overwhelmed at the moment. But, I guarantee he will fall in love with that mattress as soon as he lies down on top of it!”

    Alvin might have been looking at the king sized mattress itself when he said that — or he might have been staring fascinated at Bobby upside down with a mattress tag hanging out of his taint, his fat mushroom head submerged in piss pushing on the wall of a clear plastic egg like a sea creature, and his trembling muscular legs spread impossibly wide across the entire width of it.

    The birthday party wound down, and the last guests left before 8:00 pm. Terrance took a glass of Chardonnay up to the bedroom to have another look at this thing. Unpacking had progressed to the point where the mattress was in its frame, and the frame mounted on top of the base, but the four posts and oak headboard weren’t yet mounted, and the nightstands and accessories were scattered in parts on the floor. The bedroom was a mess. Alvin was kneeling beside Bobby on the floor where they were both sorting and counting an assortment of bolts and screws that were supposed to go somewhere.

    “Now, let’s see. ‘…Turn hex bolts #8, #16, #24, and #32 counterclockwise using the 1/8 inch allen key until they synchronously mate with docking slots X5, X10, X15, and X42…. Use a torque wrench to adjust each bolt to 350 ft lbs….’”

    Bobby asked, “What’s an allen key?”

    Terrance asked, “Alvin, I thought you said this thing would assemble itself. Why are you on the floor helping?”

    Bobby hadn’t eaten for two days. His penis was heat sealed in a plastic egg. His ball sack hurt with a transponder tag embedded in it. He was drugged up with a balloon log in his ass, and he didn’t feel very well.

    Alvin said, “I’m just helping him out to move things along a little. He seems a little shaky.”

    “Alvin, would you please come out here in the hallway and talk with me for a minute?”

    Alvin patted Bobby’s head, mussed his curly chestnut hair, and reluctantly went out in the hallway to “talk.”

    Whispering, Terrance asked, “Alvin…. Alvin, did you really get this for me? Because… because, I remember … when we were hinting about birthday presents,… when we were making plans for my birthday,… that I might have thrown out a few suggestions for things to get me,… say, a new coat, or … a motorcycle, or … a trip to Greece. It is possible. Maybe it slipped my mind, but I … I truly do not remember … ever asking for … uhm (how should I put it?) … a sex slave chained to our bed!”

    Alvin said, “Now, now, Terrance. Don’t be like that. You’re making it sound dirty.”

    “Alvin! What the fuck are you thinking? This is not a gift for me! This a gift for you! And, for that matter, if you felt so strongly compelled to go out and buy a boy,… why in the world … (whispering again) … why in the world did it have to be a white boy?”

    Alvin had committed one of the worst transgressions that you can ever commit in married life. He bought his partner an extravagant over-the-top gift (which he honestly, truly thought that Terrance would enjoy,) but which he might also incidentally want for himself. It was almost unforgiveable.

    “Alvin, is this really a gift, or is it some kind of a message? You’re tired of me now, is that it? My ass is not tight enough for you anymore? You’re movin’ on up, and you need to go out and buy rosy cheeks, over there, out of a store to fuck him instead?”

    “Baby, it’s a gift from love in my heart. There’s no secret message. Please believe me.”

    Alvin felt awful about Terrance’s reaction and his harsh judgment. The real truth of it is that he saw Bobby chained to the bed in the display window and fell completely in love with him. He automatically just assumed that Terrance would see a beautiful angel with its wings ripped off chained to their bed, because that’s all he could see with his love-struck eyes.

    Back in the bedroom, Bobby ran empty and curled up more-or-less into a ball on the floor. He had handled the shock of events and the day’s ordeal remarkably well, mainly because he’d been bound up so tightly for transport that it was physically impossible to collapse earlier. Alvin finished putting the set together. They all three went to bed unhappy – Bobby passed out on the floor, Alvin and Terrance in their comfortable new bed but far apart from each other. 

    “Keep that thing over on your side,” said Terrance.

    Late into the night Bobby woke in his sleep in the dark and tripped over his chain, disoriented. He nudged Alvin. “Sir, I’m cold. Could I please have a blanket?”

    Alvin rubbed his eyes out of sleep. He said, “You can come under here with me, boy. I’ll keep you warm.”

    “Do I have a choice?”

    “Do you want to have a choice? If you want to have a choice, I’ll give you one, but if you don’t, then get your ass up here.”

    Bobby got up into the bed side-by-side, back-to-stomach with Alvin. There was a slight clinking of the chain, but the bed didn’t transfer motion at all from one side to the other; so, Terrance asleep on the other side didn’t wake.

    With him so close, Alvin couldn’t resist getting his hands all over his boy (oops, Terrance’s boy!) under the pretext of warming and comforting him. He ended up with one hand rubbing Bobby’s chest and the other exploring his ass.

    “Is there going to be fucking? Because, I should probably mention to you one of the features of The Pretty Boy Sleep System is it’s engineered for perfect bounce and sinkage….”

    “Most definitely baby. I think you made the sale, but I’m just checking you out for now. You had a rough day, and there’s time for that. Call me Daddy.”

    “You paid a lot for me … uhm … Daddy?”

    “A small fortune. Try and go to sleep now.”

    “Oh, OK.”

    At the start of his captivity it upset Bobby that he couldn’t even read his own care and use instructions, because the mattress tag was up in his taint and the print was so small. This is what it says:

    ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

    UNDER PENALTY OF LAW THIS TAG MAY NOT BE REMOVED

    This article contains ALL NEW MATERIAL consisting of:

    one hot boy, one stainless steel chain,

    one stainless steel ankle manacle with built-in lock,

    one key (only to be used in emergency),

    one integrated theft protection device.

    CERTIFIED HEALTHY, IMMUNIZATIONS UP TO DATE:

    December 10, 2015

    _________________________________________________________

    THIS MATTRESS IS INTENDED TO BE USED: Often

    Always lie on top of the mattress.

    Do not lie under the mattress as suffocation may occur.

    Daily PrEP and condom use recommended.

    _________________________________________________________

    CARE INSTRUCTIONS

    Hand wash using a damp cloth and air dry only.

    Do NOT machine dry. Do NOT use bleach.

    Rinse anus and mouth with water frequently to maintain freshness.

    Liquid-only diet recommended for easy clean-up.

    Daily strenuous exercise advised for physical fitness.

    Firm discipline and frequent corporal punishment recommended to build character and facilitate bonding.

    Warning: excessive damage to testicles will void product warranty.

    _________________________________________________________

    Meets requirements of 16 CFR Part 1633 flammability standard for mattresses. 

    Hypoallergenic

    _________________________________________________________

    SIZE: KING                  MODEL: BOBBY

    _________________________________________________________

    Made by his mom and dad in the USA.

    He had been delivered to his captors in shock and disbelief, but as soon as he got himself together he took stock of the situation he was in. People often tried to say that Bobby was just a pretty boy, but he had more sense than was credited. It was immediately clear to him that he could not afford to sulk, pining for his lost freedom and derailed career.

    Option one: He makes a scene and throws a fit. He resists and fights and makes it difficult on them. He trashes their bedroom. The likely outcome of that is they will be dissatisfied with the purchase. They will return him to the store, and that would be good, right? Probably not, because there is an active secondary market for used bedding materials to be repackaged and resold to second-rate fleabag motels. They would rip out his current tag, and they would stitch in new one just like it, except that it would say “This article contains ALL SECOND HAND MATERIAL SANITIZED IN ACCORDANCE WITH LAW.” He could easily see himself next chained to a vibrating bed in Las Vegas with mirrors in the ceiling being fucked wide open and heavily used by gamblers with whiskey breath reeking of cigarettes, conference goers, wannabe prize fighters, magicians, and meth heads. He’d be all used up and wasted by twenty-five if he even lasted that long. This would not be a good outcome.

    Option Two: He runs. With time and dedication to the task he might find a way to pick the lock and escape out the door. But, then he becomes stolen property. Bobby had little doubt that they could quickly triangulate on his balls, track him down, and then transport him right back. Again, it would be a bad outcome.

    No matter how difficult and humiliating his current predicament, there was still more he could lose. It reduced down to a forced choice for Bobby – really only one option. If he was going to preserve even any shred of personal dignity and prospects for any kind of life, he needed to put the losses behind him and accept this. Not only just accept it – He needed to actively cooperate in making himself a sex toy for his new owners, needed to actually work at it with devotion and enthusiasm to delight them so they would keep him. The consequence of not keeping him would be too terrible. And, he was already catching the vibe that Terrance didn’t like him.

    The amazing thing about Bobby is that no one had to explain this all to him. He saw the implications and got it immediately. Like so many young people starting out, Bobby thought that his career path was in one direction, but chance and fate and malicious coworkers intervened. Underpants were no concern to him anymore. Unbeknownst to anyone, he was a unique perfect fit for this new career that he fell into by accident.

    Alvin came awake in the early morning. The sleeping boy was still in his arms spooned against his body. Just the smell of the boy was making him hard enough to drown puppies. He recalled his partner over on the other side of the bed. Terrance was fortunately yet asleep. So, Alvin nudged the boy awake and put him back down on the floor. No harm done.

    Not long afterwards the alarm went off, and the two men crawled out of bed to go to work. Bobby hopped to his feet also, which surprised them.

    “Gentlemen, is there anything I can help you with this morning?”

    Alvin said,

    “That’s alright, boy. See how helpful he is Terrance?”

    Terrance said, “Uh no, pussy boy … I mean, pretty boy. I’m capable of dressing myself just fine. Thanks anyway. On second thought, yes, you can do something. Turn around and look at the wall. I don’t want you eyeing me when I’m putting myself together in the morning.”

    “What a good boy you are!” Alvin patted Bobby’s rear end, and Terrance fixed on him a meaningful look that said, “We will talk more about this in the kitchen.”

    When they were drinking coffee in the kitchen, Terrance said, “I know you were playing with that thing in the bed last night. I’m not stupid, you know.”

    This is another real pain-in-the-ass thing about relationships. Even when you go to all the trouble to get a precision engineered sleep system that’s silent and transfers no motion, your partner will still somehow figure out what you are doing. What could he say?

    “Sorry. You slept well though, didn’t you?”

    “Yes Alvin. I admit it is a very comfortable bed. But, maybe it’s just not right for us. Maybe, we should return it.”

    “He’s such a nice boy, Terrance. Couldn’t you give him a chance? What do you have against him?”

    “It’s dick is too big. It offends me. There should be nobody in my own bedroom with a bigger dick than me, Alvin.”

    Alvin felt sorrowful pain in his chest that he was going to have to send the boy back. He felt heart-broken, but if it came to that, he wasn’t going to spoil their whole relationship over a bed set.

    Terrance had to go upstairs to get something, and when he came in the bedroom Bobby hopped up again and put his face in the wall. Bobby said, “Wow! Your coffee smells great! I just love a good cup of coffee in the morning.” He was building bridges of communication.

    “Oh really, do you now?” Going back downstairs again, Terrance yelled down the stairs, “Alvin, the mattress wants a cup of coffee. Maybe, you should brew another pot!”

    Then, he had to pause going down the stairs laughing at his own joke, which he thought was hilarious. Oh, that was funny. In that moment he first started to think about a possible upside to this. He could definitely come up with more one-liners about this. He might be able to stretch this out into a few weeks or months of laughs at Alvin’s expense. His heart started to warm to the rich criticism and ridicule value that the situation had. Then there was the gossip and sympathy factor from all the stories he’d get to tell his friends about Alvin carrying on with this white boy. It had potential. Maybe, this would be a gift that keeps on giving.

    Back downstairs, Terrance said, “Look, honey, I’m not saying it has to go back right away. You go ahead and play with your little toy for now. All I’m saying is, just don’t go throw away the packing materials, because when you are done with your little high-school crush, that thing needs to go back.”

    That was the end of discussion for now. Terrance was an English professor at Columbia and had a class to teach. Alvin left for his job in the financial district. (That’s why he was the one who saw Bobby in the shop window downtown.)

    Paulina lets herself in mid-mornings to straighten up. She is the housekeeper. She encountered Bobby when she came in to straighten the bedroom. For someone else it might be a shock and surprise to find a naked boy chained to the bed when straightening up the bedroom, but for Paulina it was Tuesday. She’d been told that they had a house guest.

    “Buenos dias, Señor Mattress.”

    “Oh … uhm, hi. Nice to meet you,” said Bobby.

    The one thing that did surprise her was that the bed was all straightened up before she even got here. She immediately liked this Mattress.

    “Hey! Excuse me, miss? Do you know … if there’s any way for me to … uhm … use the bathroom?”

    “Qué?”

    “Um … el baño,… por favor?”

    “Ah, sí. Potty chair.” She brought out a little kid’s potty chair.

    Bobby was incredulous. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

    It was shaped like a green frog and made a “ribbit” sound when he sat down on it. Daddy had picked out this potty chair especially for him. It would be the only way he’d be allowed to go from now on. Bobby’s face turned bright red. He had no other choice and he really had to go. Paulina was waiting impatiently. He couldn’t believe they were making him do this.

    Bobby didn’t at first understand why Paulina now came back and stood over him with a water bottle and a turkey baster.

    “Lavarse el ano,” she said.

    He got the idea after she filled the baster with water, gave it to him, and pointed at his butt.

    “Oh, I see. You’re coming on to me now, aren’t you lady? I know I look hot on the potty chair, but please try to control yourself.”

    Paulina did not really understand this weird naked man, but she did find him amusing. She hoped that her bosses would give her a bigger bonus. 

    Finally, he was done with that whole business, and she took the chair and the baster away.

    “Tu lavas,” she said and gave him a damp cloth to rub over his face and body to clean himself up.

    Bobby noticed for the first time he had three days’ worth of hairy scruff coming in on his face and neck and that the little hairs on his pecs were already starting to come out. He was used to shaving every day, and he kept his chest smooth and is pubes trimmed down because, well, nobody wants a hairy underwear model. But, Paulina didn’t have anything he could use for shaving.

    Paulina did have food for him though – well, sort of. He got his choice of prune or clamato juice and choice of one of several different flavors of Muscle Milk protein drink with an extra bottle of water that he could hold onto for later. He felt relief to get something in his stomach. The liquid diet was OK with him. He’d been on diets before.

    “I was so hungry, Paulina. Gracias”

    Bobby didn’t have anything else to give her for gratitude; so, he offered her a sip of his banana flavored protein drink. From that time on, he always tried his best to be on good terms with Paulina. 

    His new owners had tasked their housekeeper to satisfy all his most basic physical needs and to tidy him up as if he were the washing machine, the toilet bowl, or any other appliance that they owned. They wouldn’t want to be bothered about any details, such as feeding him. Bobby definitely could not afford to piss off Paulina.

     

  • Tails of Rump Rangers

    Tails of Rump Rangers

    
The lean mean ex Army Ranger rolled off his partner onto his back, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. The former Army officer had just experienced the most explosive climax of his life from a couple three hours of mind-blowing man sex. Once he caught his breath he bellowed, “Hooah!”

    Lying on his back trying to catch his breath and cool down the six foot one inch 185 pound ex Ranger asked in between short breaths, “How was that Baby?”

    Chase tried to answer in staccato rhythm, “Awesome, just fucking awesome… Never had such an intense fuck, especially from a beginner… And that orgasm… Wow… Just fuckin wow!” Chase exclaimed.

    Derrick’s size 11 feet hit the floor. While still sitting nude on the side ofthe bed the 30 year old looked down upon his younger male partner and said, “So cool the way you fuck me back. I mean, like you were really into it all the way you didn’t just lay there like a dead fish.”

    “No other way to be,” Chase said.

    Smiling, Derrick reached over to grasp his partner’s member and said, “That’s just about the coolest thing I ever done in my life.” Before he finished his statement he began to fondle his partner’s semi erect member while he lowered his head towards Chase’s abdomen where he began lapping and slurping the splooge off his creamy tummy.

    After licking Chase’s firm flat stomach clean Derrick took his partner’s creamy white penis into his mouth. He intended to get Chase off again before they took a break and returned to the casino. The smell of cum still fresh on Chase’s pubic area permeated Derrick’s nostrils while the sweet taste of cum filled his mouth.

    “Oh yeah,” Chase gasped. “Suck my cock,” he demanded.

    Derrick lowered his mouth onto Chase’s cockhead. His moist lips pushed down the shaft to the little tuft of hair at the base of Chase’s cockshaft. The hair began to tickle his nose.

    The small clump of curly orange hair about the size of a silver dollar was the only hair that remained on Chase’s trimmed pubic area. Derrick drew his moist lips back about halfway on the penis shaft where he began breathing life back into the burgeoning cock while his mouth moved up and down the fist couple inches. Derrick’s freehand roamed below playing with Chase’s balls, rolling them around inside the scrotum, and then he began fingering his partner’s previously fucked asshole. Chased moaned.

    Chase’s cock had expanded inside Derrick’s mouth filling it to capacity. The ex Ranger’s tongue began to bathe the knob with saliva. With each pass his tongue caressed the crimson cockhead like a child doing a cherry Tootsie Pop. Each time Derrick’s tongue swirled over the crown and around the corona Chase moaned and said, “Lick it… Lick it…Work the head.”

    Then Derrick changed tactics. His tongue began to circle the purplish coronal ring before finding that sensitive spot just below the urethral opening where his tongue titillated the piss slit. His tongue licked on the beautiful cockhead until he’d cleaned every bit of cum from it. Then as quick as he’d grabbed his partner’s cock to begin sucking on it Derrick released the hard member moving up to suck on Chase’s erect nipples.

    With tenderness Derrick’s tongue flicked and titillated both hard pink nipples, one and then the other, each bud about the the size of pink erasers on a standard pencil. Chase’s nipples had always been sensitive to touch something he’d discovered early in life. During his youth Chase’s nipples would become hard when cold or shirt fabric rubbed against the little buds, bringing them to attention.

    “Bite on them,” Chase said. “Not to hard.”

    Yes, nipple play aroused Chase McMaster since he was a boy, arousing him to the point that he could sometimes orgasm from nipple play alone. He enjoyed having his nipples played with, sucked on, tweaked, and even lightly bitten before and during anal intercourse, but not after orgasm.

    Derrick bit down on one hard nipple with gentle tenderness and then let his tongue brush across the tip, causing more moans. While Derrick concentrated on titillating the hard sensitive nipples Chase begged, “Fuck me again. I mean you’re still hard… Fuck me again.”

    The ex Ranger released his grip on the hard nipple, stood and then smiled at his partner. He asked, “You sure you’re ready… I mean can your ass take another fuckin this soon?”

    “Oh yeah, fuck me while I’m still hot… Fuck me and make me cum again.”

    Derrick reached over to grab a new rubber from the nightstand. Once in hand he tore open the packet and then rolled the condom the length of his hard cock. With Chase’s ass now in the air waiting to be lubricated Derrick grabbed the lube and began filling Chase’s anal cavity. The ex Ranger began pushing the lubricant inside with his finger tips watching Chase’s asshole wink while opening and closing. Derrick then began drilling him with his middle finger. Each time his digit entered Chase’s asshole the simulating sensation caused him to jump and cry out, “Oh yeah, finger fuck me… Get that fuckin finger all up in there.”

    Chase had found pleasure fingering his asshole as a young man while masturbating. Derrick continued to diddle Chase’s warm receptive asshole, making sure he rubbed the remainder of the lube all around his partner’s rusty bullet hole for smooth as silk entrance. Of course Chase would tighten his sphincter muscle around the invading middle finger when it penetrated.

    Once well-lubed Chase rolled over on his back, so Derrick could move into position between his legs. Derrick prepared to penetrated his partner missionary style. Most times Chase preferred being fucked face to face. He enjoyed watching the reaction on the face of the guy fucking him; plus, the position made for better penetration, and then once inside, Derrick’s large cockhead with prominent coronal ring made contact with Chase’s sweet button.

    The ex Ranger also enjoyed the missionary position because he could lookinto Chase’s alluring green eyes. Derrick guided his hard member towards the target. He began to penetrate, slipping his spongycockhead inside the anal cavity. Derrick noticed a slight grimace on Chase’s face, so he hesitated a few seconds before pushing the entire seven inches all the way inside. All the while Chase smiling up at him said, “That’s it… Ease that big fuckstick inside me and fuckme… Fuck me full and slow.”

    Derrick a multitasker could fuck his partner while he stimulated Chase’s nipples with his forefingers and thumbs. During the ordeal Chase’s nipples had become hard as diamonds and sensitive to every touch of Derricks fingers. With Chase’s legs locked around Derrick’s waist he moaned, bucking up into Derrick’s entry trust. Chase said, “Oh yeah fuck me and make me cum again… Fuck me and make me cum.”

    “WILCO,” the ex Ranger said. “You got one fine ass for fuckin.”

    “Damn, you gotta genuine gift for fuckin a guy in the ass,” Chase said to the novice fucker.

    Ten minutes into the mission Derrick pulled his throbbing member out of Chase’s ass with a plop and began maneuvering his partner onto all fours, so he could fuck him doggy style. Once he got Chase into position Derrick began to plow his partner’s ass with vigor; however, Chase’s hole felt a little dry, so Derrick pulled out to put more lube in his partner’s asshole to ease penetration friction.

    Again, he began banging Chase with a rhythmic pace listening to him moan and wail, “Oh yeah, fuck me… Fuck me hard… Fuck me and make mecum.”

    In between strokes the ex Ranger would smack Chase on the buttock and each time Derrick hit Chase’s ass he would yell, “Fuck me… Fuckme!”

    Derrick’s response, “Hooah… Hooah!”

    Chase’s firm buttock had begun to turn bright with scarlet handprints. Allthe while he continued wailing with pleasure. Both men knew it would be a while before they climaxed because they’d experienced explosive orgasms about an hour prior.

    Chase wanted to ride his partner cowboy style to get better prostate contact, so the two men moved into the new position for Chase to mount Derrick and begin riding him with the virility of a rodeo star. With more lube in his ass Chase rode Derrick’s cock with reckless abandon. He refused to let the bucking bronc throw him. The rider would conquer the horse.

    The men grappled and thrust into each other with grunts and groans Chase yelling for Derrick to fuck him. Finally, both men pale with exhaustion climaxed almost simultaneously.

    Wearyfrom nonstop fucking the two ex Rangers collapsed on the bed hearts racing, breathing rapidly and sweat pouring off their bodies. After afew seconds Chase exclaimed, “Man, that was an incredible fuck!”

    Speakingin more subdued tone Derrick said, “Fuck yeah.”

    “You’resupposed to be the beginner how the hell did you learn so quick?” Chase asked.

    “Many nights online reading and watching gay porn… Also bought a couple dildos online for practice.” A couple minutes later Derrick got upand said, “I gotta go grab a shower Baby.”

    “Sure…I’m gonna lay here for a few,” Chase said.

    AsvDerrick walked towards the bathroom he said, “I sure dig the fuck outta fuckin you, but next time it’s your turn to do me.”

    “Uh-huh.” A soft reply came from Chase, now lying face down on the king bed in the casino hotel room, drifting off. Chase McMaster had wanted to hear those words from his former Ranger buddy for years. Over come by an electrifying euphoria after being well-fucked Chase lay on the bed basking in the afterglow from one of the most blissful sessions of anal intercourse in his young life.

    Disclaimer: The story Tails of Rump Rangers a sexually explicit work of fiction is written for the purpose of adult entertainment. If sexually explicit adult stories offend refrain from reading any further, this story contains sexually explicit behavior and strong language among consenting adult males. If you are not of legal age to read adult stories do not read anyfurther. This story is protected under applicable copyright statutes. Readers, you may have seen this story on another site. This is arevised edition.

    The story Tails of Rump Rangers is in no way meant to disrespect or demean the elite warriors who make up and serve in the United States Army’s Ranger Battalions, or bring any type of discredit or dishonor to the fine dedicated young warriors who make up the Ranger Battalions of the United States Army’s 75th Ranger Regiment. The author, contrary to popular belief, feels that warriors who follow the bisexual/homosexual lifestyle can, should, and someday will beallowed to serve their country honorably protecting and defending our nation and the world from oppression and tyranny. What two people do in the confines of their bedrooms does not define who or what they are in life. Rangers lead the way, death to all who threaten our freedom –Sua Sponte!

    What United States Army Rangers do is so physically and psychologically demanding that few can pass muster or do the job. The Ranger program is the Army’s most rigorous leadership training school. Fewer than half the soldiers that start the grueling course finish and half of those who do graduate are forced to repeat at least one of the course’s segments before they are allowed to wear the black and gold Ranger Tab along with the tan beret. Thosewarriors who complete the United States Army Ranger program wear the Ranger Tab, 75th Ranger Regiment scroll and tan beret as a badge of honor. To all those brave warriors who have served or are serving with the United States Army’s 75th Ranger Regiment the author extends heartfelt thanks and job well done – Sua Sponte!

    Sua Sponte, Latin for “Of their own accord” is the 75th Ranger Regiment’s regimental motto. Modern Rangers are four-time volunteers: U.S. Army, Airborne School, Ranger School, and service in the 75th Ranger Regiment.

    If you care to contact the author, Randall Rumster, to express appreciation, disdain or any concerns do so at the following e-mail address: bn2rumpranger “at” yahoo “dot” com   Subject line: Tails of Rump Rangers


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


  • I discovered Gloryholes

    I discovered Gloryholes

    Let me tell you about my first experiences with gloryholes. I was 18-years old and living on the east coast. I’d always been fascinated with sex and had acquired a large collection of porn magazines over which I’d jerk off daily. I’d seen an adult bookstore out on the highway near my home but because of my age I’d never gone inside. But one day after I turned 18 I got up the nerve and went in. 

    There was a large square room with racks of sex magazines on the walls. These weren’t just the Playboy and Penthouse that I was used to. These were hardcore picture books of every kind of perversion you could imagine. I loved it. 

    There was a beaded curtain covered doorway leading to another room and there were about 15 or 20 guys hanging around the door. I went through into the back room and in the dim light saw two rows of booths in the center of the room, and more booths along the walls. 

    There were a bunch of guys coming in and out of the booths and more guys just hanging around. I looked in one booth and saw a TV monitor behind a Plexiglas window with a slot into which tokens could be dropped and a cheap folding metal chair. The ambiance of the adult bookstore video booths for the first timers it can be a gross place with the old cum smell and sticky floors. But once aquatinted with the shabby décor, you learn to let it turn you on. 

    I got some tokens from the change machine near the door and went into a booth. I locked the door, dropped a token in the slot, sat down and started watching the movie. A minute or so later, I noticed a large baseball size hole cut into the wall of the booth. Then the door of the next booth opened and closed as someone entered it. A moment later, the hole lit up when he dropped a token in the slot. I continued to watch my movie, dropping tokens in the slot as needed. 

    After a few minutes, my attention was attracted by movement to my right. I looked down in the dim light, I saw a finger rubbing the edge of the hole in the wall. Being 18 and very inexperienced, I just ignored it. After a few more minutes, the guy in the booth left and someone else came in. 

    This was a little strange to me, so when I finished with that toke, I left my booth and went to a booth that didn’t have a hole in the wall so I could jerk off in peace. I started going back to that adult bookstore and others nearby on a fairly regular basis. 

    One day when the booth without the hole was occupied, I went into another booth. This time, after a few minutes, when someone came into the booth next door he didn’t just rub his finger on the ledge. He put his entire dick through the hole. 

    Well, I was shocked and very unsure what to do, so I just sat there looking at this hard crooked looking dick sticking out of the wall. After a few minutes, he pulled out and left. I left soon after that. But the memory of that dick stayed with me. I’d never seen another man hard before and for some reason it had turned me on. Enough in fact that, that first time I went right home and jacked off to a great orgasm. 

    Then one day I decided that I’d put my dick through the hole and see what happened. I went into a booth and waited. A few minutes later, the door of the booth on my right opened, closed and the movie started. I watched the hole, paying no attention to the movie on my own door. 

    A minute later, a finger appeared in the hole (Still unknown to me the universal sign that I want to suck your dick) beckoning me. I stood up, unsnapped, unzipped, opened my pants, pulled down my underwear and stuck my now very hard 7-inch uncut cock through the hole. Almost immediately, a warm, wet mouth enveloped my cock. Having never had a blowjob before, I was instantly in heaven. Whoever that guy was, he was good. I’d never felt sensations like that before. I hugged the wall of my booth and started to shake. After a short time, I started to feel like I was going to cum. I started to pull out but he just increased his sucking. A moment later, I exploded into his mouth. I couldn’t believe how good it felt. He licked and swallowed every drop and I was in ecstasy. 

    A moment later, he released me and I pulled back through the hole and sat. I couldn’t stop my legs from shaking and I was thoroughly exhilarated. As I left, I swore to myself that maybe someday I’d try sucking someone else’s dick. 

    My life went on pretty much as usual. I went to the bookstore once or twice a week, got a blowjob and left. 

    Eventually I met a girl, Cathy and we got married but I continued to sneak out to the bookstore whenever I could. 

    One day about 5 years after my first blowjob in that booth and after receiving innumerable blowjobs since, I went to a different bookstore to try something new. I got my tokens from the clerk and went into the first booth I found with a gloryhole in it. As I sat there waiting, I pulled my pants down and played with my cock. 

    A few minutes later, the door of the booth on my left opened and closed as a man entered. I waited nervously, watching the hole. A moments later his fingers appeared in the hole. I stood up, pushed myself through the hole and it was immediately covered by a mouth and he started sucking my cock. After a few minutes, he stopped and took his mouth off my cock. I waited a moment and then pulled myself back through the hole.

     He then stuck his dick through the hole into my booth. Well, here it was. Time to pay the piper, so to speak I thought to myself.

    Ignoring the cum and piss drenched floor, I went to my knees and after a short pause to screw up my courage, I grabbed his dick. It felt smooth and very warm in my hand. I was mesmerized. His was the first dick, other than my own that I’d ever touched. I stroked it for a moment, moving his foreskin up and down and marveled at how hard and yet soft it was.

    After a moment as I knelt in front of it and thought, “In for a penny, in for a pound.” I put that stranger’s dick in my mouth and started giving my very first blowjob. This was such a wild sensation. The head of his dick was spongy and soft, and the shaft was very hard. I took him as far into my mouth as I could and tried to do the things that I enjoyed having done to me. After a few minutes, I stopped and he pulled back through. 

    I stood up and put my dick back through the hole and he sucked me for a while. When he stopped again, I decided that I wanted to make him cum. I was pretty aroused by now and the thought of making him come turned me on in a perverted sort of way. When his dick came through the hole, I started sucking and licking him for all I was worth. Bobbing my mouth up and down his hard shaft. After a few minutes, I could feel him grow larger in my mouth. Then he just exploded. He started shooting warm, salty cum into my mouth. As I swallowed as fast as I could, he just kept squirting and squirting. 

    This was so thrilling. I’d made him cum. When he finished, he pulled through and I put my dick back through. He finished me off in a matter of moments. That was the beginning of several years of getting and giving blowjobs through those holes in the walls. I still do it 10 years later, although it’s getting harder and harder to find the glory holes anymore. My wife Cathy doesn’t have a clue that I do something so perverted and I guess she never will. Even though Cathy freely sucks my dick on a regular basis, I plan on continuing at the bookstores because no one gives a blowjob like another guy and that’s for sure. 

    The end…


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


  • Young Asher and Deflowered Mick Go for Round 2 of Hot Sex

    ASHER SHARES PART 2 WITH THE READERS

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

    As we headed to Mick’s condo, I laid a plan to introduce my 30-year-old friend, the local high school P E teacher, to join the wild side of erotic gay sex for at least the evening.

    “Hey Mick, did you enjoy that wild sex at the movie theater this evening? Man, you really got into the act for a shy virgin. My ass felt awesome in that soft virgin ass,” I suggested.

    “Yea Asher, it was fantastic sex that I’d fantasized about for years. Wow, your cock felt awesome inside me. Thanks for introducing me to such a great man sex trip. But I’m really worried because it is now public that not olny am I gay but your family might not ever speak to me again for our fucking in public. I don’t think I could get my cock up again tonight because I’m not only worried about what your family will think but I’m sure that I will get fired from my  teaching job. My life is turned upside down.”

    Being the wild irresponsible one, I responded: “Fuck Mick relax. My family loves you and they already know that I’m a gay slut so they will not blame you. Fuck that teaching  job. You can make lots more money being a hot gym trainer and free from all those Puritans. Fuck you only live once.”

    “Asher, I wish I was more like you. You always say fuck the public and do what what feels good. Maybe you’re right. I admit tonight was awesome and fun man.” 

    “Mick, I’ve got a great idea. Lets stop by the 24-hour, 375 days a  year adult gay bookstore. I have lots of buddies who work there and I know the big fucking daddy who owns the store. In fact, he has fucked me several times. I’m a friend of several of the regular gay slut customers. We can show you a great time.”

    “Shit, why not Asher. I’m getting into this wild side thing. And my whole world is collapsing around me anyway.”

    I introduced Mick to 60-year-old Sebastian, the store owner. He is known as the big black daddy standing 6-feet and 6-inches, hits the scales at 230 pounds, a former wrestler and sexy dark African American stud.

    I pulled Sebastian off to the side and gave him the entire story about what happened at the theater earlier and said: “Hey Sebastian, Mick is shy and has been reserved up until now. I think he is ready to join me on the wild side. I fucked the hell out of that man pussy and boy is that great fresh meat. You would love your dick in that ass. How about getting us some weed and helping Mick relax. Maybe you can get that big dick of yours in that mushy ass tonight? We can meet you in one of those private rooms in the back How does that sound?”

    “Fuck yea, fuck shit, I’d like that. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Maybe I’ll also bring a sex toy for him to enjoy?”

    “Fuck yea Sebastian, lets do it.”

    I showed Mick some of the gay videos and sex toys. I could see that he was getting excited as a tent began to develop in his pants.

    “Fuck Asher, I’ve never been in a gay bookstore before. I’m getting really hard and horny. Thanks for bringing me here.”

    “Fuck Mick that is great. You’re now getting into the spirit. The wild life can be so erotic. Lets go to the back rooms. Some of my buddies will be there fucking the regular sluts who come here every night to take a big cock and eat cum.”

    “OK Asher, I’m ready to follow you. Lets go.”

    Little did Mick know what was about to happen to this innocent and unaware friend of mine.

    We took a seat in one of the dim lighted rooms and we began to hear wild action down the dark hall. There were moans and sounds of horny sucking cock and fucking ass. We heard dirty talk bouncing off the walls such as: “Oh suck my cock you stud, eat my ass, drive that fucking finger deep in my ass, holy shit your cock is so BIG that it hurts, come in my mouth you whore, come in my fucking ass, take that hard cock up that pussy you bitch,” and on and on.

    I noticed Mick’s face had become flushed, his cock was growing in his pants and he looked totally in heat. I saw him grab his crotch and rub hard. My plan was working. At that moment, big daddy Sebastian came into the room, locked the door and lit those joints. I was surprised when Mick took one of them and began to smoke. Soon all three of us were high as a kite and horny as hell. Sebastian and I removed all Mick’s clothes and then followed by getting butt naked ourselves.  Man we three dudes had some hard bobbing cocks.

    We placed MIck on his back on a long table. I got on one end of the table as Sebastian got on the other end. I pulled Mick’s legs up on his chest exposing his puckering ass. I held on to his ankles giving Sebastian a clear view of that awesome ass. Sebastian took a huge 10-inch black dildo, lubed both the dildo and Mick’s pulsating ass and said: “OK Mick, I’m going to fuck that ass of yours with a huge dildo. Are you ready?”

    Mick’s only answer was that he raised his ass up off the table giving permission to big daddy and the dildo. Sebastian rammed that monstrous dildo all the way inside that tight ass with one thrust. I heard Mick groan as if in pain. But he took the whole fucking dildo. Maybe it was the effect of the marijuana but man he sucked that dildo right into his inner ass. He began to beg Sebastian: “Oh fuck yea, oh my god, fuck me harder. Give me that dildo Daddy.”

    I was shocked to see shy Mick turned into a wild slut before my eyes. Sebastian fucked the hell out of that ass for several minutes while Mick begged for him to get harder and drive it deeper.

    I became so turned on that I managed to get my crotch above Mick’s head, pulled his legs even tighter on his chest and filled with pure lust, I said to Mick: “Baby, you slut, open that mouth and take my rock hard cock in that throat.”

    Fuck, not only did Mick eagerly open his mouth to receive my boner but as I drove my leaking tool deep into his throat, he began to use his hot tongue to massage my leaking cock  and he sucked the spewing pre-cum from my piss slit and swallowed it. Man he was giving me an awesome blowjob while getting his ass fucked with that hard dildo.

    While hearing the sucking and moaning sounds from the other rooms, Mick was enjoying getting both holes service at the same time. It was an incredible sight. Finally, Sebastian used only one hand to drive that dildo deep in that pussy as he used his other hand to began stroking Mick’s aching cock. Wow, Mick was getting first class attention to his body.

    I then noticed that Big daddy was getting very aroused for a different kind of action. He pulled that dildo out of Mick’s ass and said to me: “Hey Asher, I’m so horny watching that dildo fuck that fresh meat, I’ve got to have a piece of that fresh meat for my cock.”

    Sebastian had the biggest champion black cock that I’d ever found at 12-inches with a huge cock shaft. As his black cock was bobbing up and down, he took a bottle of lube and drenched that donkey cock. He put his snake at the entrance to Mick’s pussy and began to shove it in that ass as Mick somehow managed to open that ass to take the entire cock all the way inside his very inexperienced ass. Big Daddy turned into a primitive animal as he slammed his donkey tool deep in Mick’s ass over and over. Holy shit, it was some sight to watch. Mick must have been high on that weed because he not only took that horse cock but bagged Sebastian to fuck him harder and harder. My friend Mick was taking Daddy’s cock that was my favorite one. I loved to be fucked by big black cocks.

    Mick began to beg: “Oh Big Daddy, fuck me, shove that donkey deep in my ass, yea Daddy breed my ass.”

    Sebastian became so horny that he wanted to get fucked at the same time, when he said to me: “Asher, fuck what an awesome ass. Asher, come get behind me and drive your fucking hot cock up my ass.”

    I rushed in total lust to that side of the table and with no waiting for a signal, I drove my rock hard leaking cock up that big open black ass. Holy fuck, Big Daddy began to use his deep experienced ass muscles to grip my cock so hard that I felt pain. He squeezed my cock until I knew I was about to be milked. Man he knew how to milk a man’s cock with his ass. The fucking of both asses went on for about ten minutes when both Sebastian and I lost control and began to ejaculate in those two asses. Sebastian dumped a huge load into Mick’s ass as I gushed a huge load up Big Daddy’s ass.

    Now Mick needed to get off so I got down and took his stiff cock in my mouth and as I sucked hard Mick did not last. He exploded with a huge load of his sticky thick cum to the back of my throat. I collected the warm cum in my mouth and fed it to Mick and then we kissed with cum running out our mouths onto our chins that Sebastian licked off of us.

    We got dressed and thanked Big Daddy Sebasian for a great fucking session and went back to my Mick’ condo for a shower. We slept naked together in his warm bed. I knew that we would be returnig again to the gay bookstore.

    The End: I hope you enjoyed!!!!!

  • All That Argentine Jazz

    The dimly lit room showed every sign of transition toward desertion. The closet door was open, the closet empty, other than two sad-looking wire hangers. Two drawers of the bureau were pulled out. Both were empty. Clothes once tucked away in these recesses were strewn on the two chairs in the room and hanging on hangers from the top of the closet drawer. One suitcase was already packed; another one had been moved, open and half packed, to the floor from the bed, where two naked men were stretched out against each other.

    The bedclothes were tumbled and entwined the bodies of the two men, indicating both that the two had been going hot and heavy at it and that the battle had not been planned. Such was the case. What also was quite clear was that the older, thinner, taller man had won the battle. They were lying on their sides, the younger man’s buttocks nestled into the older man’s groin and the older man’s arms and legs, caught up in wads of sheeting and coverlet, entwined around the body of the younger man so that the younger man was completely controlled, a prisoner of the older man’s desire and sustained penetration. Both men were panting lightly.

    The long, thin, slightly up-curved, sheathed cock of patrician and effete visiting Julliard music composition professor, Clayton Ambrose, was still buried to the root in the anal canal of the short, trim, perfectly formed blond, strikingly handsome, second-year Charleston College music major student Neal Burton. Both men felt the cock going flaccid, diminishing in hardness, if not length. Clay knew and Neal strongly suspected that the older man had come almost immediately after penetration.

    “You didn’t finish with me,” Neal whispered, his voice revealing a sense of disappointment. “If it’s our last time, I wanted there to be fireworks.”

    “I was lost in the moment, realizing this is the last time. I would have tried to hold longer, but I felt you were close,” Clay responded. “You were close, weren’t you?”

    “Yes. I hoped we could come together.” Close? Neal thought. You’d just started. But Clayton Ambrose had been his mentor and initiator; he wasn’t about to argue more deeply than this with him. What he had said had come spontaneously from the disappointment of leaving their relationship like this.

    “I want it all,” Clay responded. “I do want us to come together. I too want the last time to be special. You know what I want.”

    “Yes,” Neal answered. He’d never done it before Professor Ambrose had come to Charleston as a visiting lecturer and had seduced him, but they had often done it that way since and Neal had become accustomed to it. He turned his face to Clay’s and they went into a kiss. For a few moments he thought the professor might harden enough for another finish, as the kissing and Neal’s moaning caused by Ambrose’s thumb and index finger having found and started to work one of Neal’s nipples had caused the professor to breathe heavily and his cock to start to harden–harden enough that the professor could take three more long, shuddering slides.

    But then he broke away from the clutch, pushed Neal on his back, and raised and twisted his own body as he reached around to the nightstand for another condom disk. The twisting brought his cock close enough to the surface that the glans dragged across Neal’s prostate, causing Neal to jerk and shudder.

    “Oh shit, oh fuck,” Neal gasped. “Finish me proper, Daddy. Please give it to me.”

    Basically cruel by nature and pleased with the control he had over the young man, Ambrose dragged the bulb over Neal’s prostrate a couple of more times to hear him beg, but then he pulled out. Neal’s own cock, thick, and prodigious in its own right in its current hard, throbbing state, stood straight up from the blond, curly V of his trimmed pubes, with Neal flat on his back.

    Ambrose laughed and, slipping the condom off his own cock and aiming it for a nearby trashcan, lowered his face to take Neal’s cock in his mouth–again listening to the young man’s moans and listening for the approach of some edge that would end his play. Before that could happen, though, he released the cock from his mouth and tapped it a couple of times, to hear Neal groan and to feel the cock lose a fraction of its hardness.

    They both held nearly a full minute, Ambrose waiting for the wave of Neal’s preparatory contractions to cease and listening to Neal begging in a whisper, “Just fuck me, Daddy. Don’t tease me like this.”

    But Neal knew that, since Ambrose had come already, all of this was just play for him.

    Without responding, Ambrose placed the disk on the tip of Neal’s cock and rolled it down over the sides. Wetting his hand with lube, he slicked up the cock as Neal moaned and then raised up, slung a leg over Neal’s thigh in an elegant, fluid motion, fisted Neal’s cock until he could get it positioned at his asshole, and slid down on the cock.

    Neal was panting and moaning as Ambrose lowered his face to take possession of Neal’s lips with his, fisted Neal’s wrists, held both of Neal’s arms captive above and away from his head, flat on the surface of the bed, and started making love to Neal’s cock by raising and lowering his buttocks and sliding forward and back and from side to side on the buried cock.

    When Ambrose was ready–and he always seemed to know how close either one of them was to coming–he pulled Neal’s right hand down to his cock, which was wrapped in both of their hands when Ambrose shot off up Neal’s chest and Neal jerked and spasmed his own ejaculation inside the professor’s channel.

    Afterward, Neal sat, still naked, on the side of the bed and watched Ambrose move around the bedroom of his Charleston College-owned condo on Coming Street–a name that continually amused Ambrose–and expertly folded shirts and trousers.

    Everything was elegant and refined about the professor, from the way he moved his slender, but well-muscled nude frame around the room; to how precisely in place was his flowing, wavy gray hair, despite having just come out of a sex session on the bed; to how wrinkle free his shirts and trousers would be when they got to the end of the journey that marked the close of his residency at Charleston College.

    Both men had enjoyed their couplings when he was here; neither had been under the illusion that it was anything more than temporary. For Ambrose it was a necessary servicing wherever he was for any length of time; for Neal it had been the start of a new lifestyle and was worship of an accomplished professor and for the extra time the professor spent with Neal on his music technique. Ambrose had taught Neal a lot about sexual technique too, not least the technicals of edging and of the sexual flip-flop.

    That didn’t make parting a piece of cake for either one of them.

    “When do you drive away?” Neal asked, as Ambrose moved about the room.

    “Today. In a couple of hours.”

    “So, we won’t have the night?”

    “No.” Ambrose’s tone had a genuine tone of regret to it. “No. I find I have to leave earlier than anticipated. In fact, you’ll see there on my dresser–that envelope–a ticket to the Carlos Ferrari Argentinian jazz concert at the Spoleto Festival tomorrow night. I’d like you to take it–as a parting gift. He’s all you are preparing to be in music: a jazz and classical pianist, Spanish guitarist, singer, and composer. I hope you’ll go to the concert and think of me and of how important pursuing your desires beyond the music are in honing your creativity.”

    “Thank you,” was all Neal could think of to say on that, but he was having trouble letting go. “You say in a couple of hours. But not right now. And I can see that you’re hard again.”

    “So I am,” the professor said. He fucked Neal again on the bed, doggy style, clutching Neal closely from above, stroking him hard and deep, possessing Neal’s lips as the young man turned his face to his, and diplomatically not bringing attention to the tears that rolled down the young man’s cheeks. Finally, at the finish, giving the young man the finish he’d been begging for.

    Clayton Ambrose had done this several times before–picked out a talented, luscious, and willing student, either male or female, to possess for short periods of time. It was usually at least a minor regret he had to leave them, if only because of the investment he put into them surrendering to his needs and whims. He wasn’t into looking back. Neal was the most difficult one to leave. He had been so ripe and innocent and willing to do whatever Clayton wanted.

    For Neal, though, this was a first–and a momentous first at that. He had no idea if or how he would be able to get into such a relationship again–or even if he wanted to be dominated that way again.

    “Do you have any regrets?” Ambrose asked as they were cooling down in each other’s arms for the last time.

    “Regrets? Regrets for what?”

    “That I took your male virginity. That I turned you?”

    “No, of course not,” Neal answered. “I’m glad it was you. You have taught me so much in all ways.”

    “It hasn’t been just me, has it? I never demanded monogamy.”

    “No, but not often–not before you and none others that give me what you do.”

    “Will you promise me one thing?”

    “Of course, but what?”

    “I want you to take another lover immediately. I don’t want you to slip back. You need this for your art, for your craft. Someone who can further hone your artistry.”

    Neal didn’t answer right away. This would be a hard role to fill. He’d actually given the matter a lot of thought already but hadn’t made a decision. He didn’t even know how to go about finding another lover. Clay had done all of the finding, all of the seduction, most of the fucking and sex education. At no time had Neal felt he had any control over any of it. Neal had had no illusions that Clay had been a predator, taking advantage of his position, and although Neal had struggled against it that first time, letting Ambrose have his way only because the man how power over Neal’s future, Neal had been deceiving himself. Ambrose had given him what he had secretly desired and had freed him from indecision and inhibition. Neal had no idea how to go about the hook-up process in more than a casual meeting way.

    “Promise,” Clay repeated.

    “Of course,” Neal answered, not sure himself if he’d ever have another deeper-level male lover.

    * * * *

    “Is this seat taken?”

    Neal looked up in surprise and involuntarily smiled, initially mistakenly thinking that Professor Ambrose hadn’t left yet after all and had come to the Ferrari Spoleto Festival concert just to be with him. Spoleto was a two-week music, theater, and dance festival, started by the composer Gian Carlo Menotti in the late 1970s, and held in the facilities of Charleston College annually in May. Although Neal was hanging around after the end of the school year to build up his portfolio of musical compositions, he would not have been able to afford to attend any of the Spoleto programs on his own means. The man who was standing by the empty aisle seat next to where Neal was sitting was tall, handsome, elegantly dressed, and of the same late forties age and the same wavy gray hair as Ambrose was.

    “No, by all means use the seat,” Neal answered, trying to take the edge off his smile. The man smiled warmly back, leaving Neal embarrassed that perhaps he had misunderstood Neal’s smile as some sort of come on. Or were Neal’s thoughts just too consumed by Clay’s request–well, more of a command–to find another lover immediately. Was Neal seeing possibilities where they didn’t really exist?

    “I do need an aisle seat and the recital hall is filling up quickly. It’s surprising there’s still this aisle seat available.”

    “I was sitting in it until a minute ago,” Neal answered. “But I could see that I could view the musician’s hands on the piano keyboard better from this seat, so I moved over.”

    “See his hands better–ah, I guess that means that you study music yourself then,” the man said as he sank down into the aisle seat. “So, are you a music student?”

    “Yes, here at Charleston College. I’m lucky to be able to come to this concert. I am studying the same music styles this Carlos Ferrari composes and plays. Are you a musician too?” The man looked refined and artistic, in the same vein that Clayton Ambrose was. Neal didn’t recognize the man as being with the college faculty, but he could be. Neal knew he shouldn’t be so presumptuous–or hopeful–but the man could have fallen right into the role of Clayton, and Neal would open to him. Clayton had hinted and Neal had realized that he needed another man like Clayton.

    Neal’s openness to this–because of the similarities of the men and because of Clay’s request still ringing in his ears–did prove to cut through a lot of preliminaries that normally would have been there.

    “No, I’m just a banker,” the man answered. “But I do appreciate music–especially the music of Argentina. I’ve done some study of that. And I speak the Argentinean form of Spanish. My name’s Peter Wentworth.”

    He was looking expectantly at Neal, who felt heat coming off the man–not temperature heat; sexual heat. He was so much like Clayton Ambrose. Neal wondered if this similarity in looks and demeanor between this Wentworth man and the professor was misleading Neal into sensing that the man now sitting close beside him was interested in him on a prurient level. It may just be this similarity, he had to acknowledge, but it made Neal tense and trembly and he felt–and hoped the man didn’t see–himself going hard. Neal, the wound of losing Ambrose still so open, just went with the flow.

    Later Neal was to wonder how many young men other than him had been seduced and made to ejaculate in his shorts by the expert hand of older man while sitting in a crowded hall during a concert. But by the time he thought about, it didn’t mean much to him anymore. Ambrose had left him achingly open to the approach. Wentworth couldn’t have been blamed for recognizing that, Neal reasoned.

    Wentworth was leaning into him and giving him a very warm smile, and their shoulders and forearms were touching–giving Neal a buzz of electricity. But the seats were set close together, so Neal couldn’t be sure to read anything into this. The man’s hands were sensual, the fingers long and manicured–and hovering as if at the least invitation they would come down on Neal’s exposed knee and massage it in a way that could translate–in Neal’s fevered imagination–to the feel of it masturbating Neal’s cock. Neal was wearing shorts and sandals without socks. He suddenly was feeling undressed–certainly underdressed for the venue, although the festival was pointedly casual and other men in the hall were similarly dressed.

    The man’s sense of casual was much more refined and stylish than Neal’s was, and he was very much aware that he was out of this man’s league. But he’d been out of Clayton Ambrose’s league too–if you didn’t take into account Ambrose’s pleasure at debauching younger men.

    Neal was aware of the tripping of his imagination on sensual clouds enough to tell him that the fingers on the knee were just his fantasizing. But when he looked down at his knee, he saw that Wentworth, indeed, was lightly massaging it. That, of course, would have been the perfect time to get up and change seats. But he was here first, dammit, and the hall was filling up quickly. And besides . . .

    Neal couldn’t help himself, he looked over and down at Wentworth’s lap. Elegantly cut trousers or no, there was every evidence that the man was hard and built just as long as Professor Ambrose. He looked up to see that the man had been watching him and was smiling as he spoke.

    “. . . like to meet him afterward?”

    “Excuse me, I didn’t hear you,” Neal said, embarrassed that he was fantasizing about the man’s equipment and those fingers on his knee while Wentworth had asked him a question.

    “I said that, since you say you are studying the same musical disciplines and techniques as Carlos Ferrari offers, would you perhaps like to meet him after the concert?”

    “Well, yes, certainly I would. But I doubt that’s possible. There must be others who already have–”

    “Oh, he has no other engagements after tonight’s concert, and I can introduce you to him. My bank is sponsoring his appearance and I’ve been hosting him. I am responsible for seeing that he has a pleasant time in the States. I speak his dialect and he speaks very little English. I’ve been translating for him. Which I suppose means I need to go on stage to usher him out now and introduce him. The lights are going down. Would you be so kind as to make sure this seat is saved for me to come back to?”

    Wentworth was rising and moving up onto the stage–and to the back, where a door was opening to let the performer enter. Now Neal knew why the man had said he had to have an aisle seat–and also why he could offer to introduce Neal to Ferrari.

    He also knew, with a shudder, that he’d protect the seat next to him with his life.

    The introductions made, Wentworth returned to his seat. But before he left the stage, he’d leaned down to Ferrari, who was positioned at a Yamaha concert grand piano, with microphones between him and the audience and a guitar on a stand behind him, and whispered something to Ferrari. The performer looked out into the audience, apparently directly at Neal, and smiled as Wentworth whispered something else to him.

    Carlos Ferrari was no taller than Neal was. He was sensitive-looking as many musicians are. Perhaps in his mid thirties, he was dark complexioned, sensual, with black, curly hair–perhaps even permed hair–that reached to his shoulders. He was dressed simply in a white, billowy shirt and brown trousers. Like Neal, he was wearing open-toed sandals. Both his toes and his fingers were long and slender, and, like many Latins, his arms and hands were in perpetual motion as he talked and played.

    Wentworth returned to his seat. As he sat down next to Neal in the near total darkness of their row–there was no one in the two seats to the other side of Neal–and in the seconds before the music started, Wentworth leaned over and whispered to Neal, “Carlos is gay, you know. And goes both ways.”

    Neal said nothing. He told himself that it was just a spontaneous piece of “I am close enough to him to know what he likes” banter, and nothing more. That didn’t stop him from trembling or for this to convey to Wentworth where their shoulders and arms were touching.

    Ferrari played three songs on the piano. First a busy jazz rendition and then two slower pieces, with rolling arpeggios that made Neal think of the gentle coursing of a river. And, sure enough, when Wentworth went back up on stage to translate a short commentary on the music for Ferrari, he said that these were Ferrari’s own compositions and were about life on the river.

    “Carlos lives near the Puraná River in Argentina,” Wentworth told the audience. “He loves the feel and sound of the river running by his bedroom window. He says the second composition is of an image he once had of his lover having moved down river and of him maintaining an emotional connection with this lover by going to the riverbank and looking down into the water at his own reflection and imagining that the reflection floated down the river to be received by his lover.”

    After the audience has applauded this, thanks to Wentworth Neal envisioning a male lover in a way that hadn’t been revealed to the rest of the audience, Wentworth said the next set of songs would be love songs to this lover.

    All the time Wentworth was translating this commentary, both he and Ferrari were looking directly at Neal and smiling–or so it appeared to Neal. When he returned to his seat and Ferrari was beginning to play his next set, Wentworth leaned over and whispered to Neal, “I told him a music student wanted to meet him and pointed you out. He said he was pleased. He also said this set of love songs was being played with you in mind–that you reminded him of his down-stream lover. The lover is a young man who looks very much like you. I hope that doesn’t upset you.”

    “No, certainly not,” Neal whispered back. “I’m flattered.”

    “And, if I’m not mistaken, you are aroused. Does Carlos arouse you?”

    “I am very impressed with him. He makes wonderful music.”

    “Carlos told me that you were arousing to him. Are you fine with that–in meeting him after the concert. Am I right in having assumed that you take cock?”

    Neal paused only a few moments, looking up at the stage, seeing that, although Carlos was playing the piano and singing now too, in a soft tenor, that Carlos was looking out into the audience–in his direction.

    “Will you let Carlos fuck you?” the man persisted. “I have to set him up with someone to lay with him after a concert like this. He needs it to unwind.”

    “Yes, I’m good with that,” Neal whispered back. Not exactly a long-term lover that Clay had made him promise to acquire immediately–but a stopgap. And evidence that Neal could manage this himself. Of course, he was actually more aroused by Wentworth.

    “As his host, that pleases me,” Wentworth said. Well into the second song of the love song segment, Neal felt the tips of Wentworth’s fingers on his knee. He moved his hand to cover Wentworth’s hand but made clear in the movement that he wasn’t trying to push the hand away.

    Why was he being so easy, Neal wondered, as he felt the heat of the possessive touch on his knee. It probably was because of what he had promised Ambrose and how nervous he was about how to go about that. It wasn’t that Neal was promiscuous. He wasn’t–and he hadn’t even been voracious for it until Professor Ambrose had come into his life. He’d sucked and been fucked occasionally since coming to Charleston and after Ambrose had shown him the ropes. It was all part of going out into the world, he’d reasoned. And the college was well known for its eclecticism and liberal mindedness. But he hadn’t been as casual and open to it before as this. He thought it was from panicking at Clayton leaving so abruptly. Neal wanted to continue such a relationship as that, but he had no idea how to fall into what he’d had with Clayton. He had no experience in casual cruising–not something that fell into a more regular relationship.

    This encounter, beyond causing a surge in his libido, was at least a temporary answer to his “where from here?” concern.

    Wentworth went back on stage to introduce the guitar segment and when he returned and Ferrari started to play, Wentworth leaned over and whispered, “His music is divine, isn’t it?” His hand went to Neal’s knee and was rhythmically squeezing and releasing pressure with the beat of the guitar music.

    “Yes, gorgeous,” Neal responded.

    “He says you are giving him inspiration–that he can feel the heat between you across the footlights. He asked if you would lay with him. I told him you will.”

    “Yes,” Neal answered.

    “And will you open your legs to me too? I know I’ve been speaking for Carlos, but you make my blood boil as well.”

    Rather than verbalizing an answer, Neal spread his legs in the seat and moved his hand to Wentworth’s knee. Wentworth’s hand was already climbing the inside of Neal’s thigh, traced the line of Neal’s hard cock, and grasped it through the material of his shorts, squeezing and releasing to the beat of the guitar.

    “Just relax,” Wentworth whispered, “and come for me in your shorts. Don’t be embarrassed. No one can see us, and I want assurances that you are the young man I need tonight.”

    Giving a low moan, before that set was finished, Neal creamed his shorts. Wentworth could tell from the young man’s jerk and the relaxing of his muscles, that he’d had an ejaculation.

    Before rising to introduce the last set, Wentworth leaned over and whispered, “Thank you. I will make it worth your while.”

    After the concert; after Wentworth and Neal had held back for others to cover Ferrari in adulation, which clearly both embarrassed and delighted the Argentinian musician; after the three of them were alone in the small dressing room assigned to Ferrari and the door to the corridor was closed and locked, Wentworth pushed Neal’s back up against the wall next to the door and, placing his hands possessively against the wall on either side of Neal’s shoulders, came in for a kiss.

    Neal surrendered to him, but his eyes went to Ferrari, sitting at a dressing table, his face to a mirror. Ferrari was all eyes, staring at the other two in the reflection of the glass.

    Seeing where Neal was looking, Wentworth smiled and said in a low, growly voice, “Carlos likes to watch at first. He wants to watch me fuck you and then later, in the hotel, he wants you to fuck him. Am I right that you go both ways?”

    “Yes,” Neal murmured, embarrassed again that he was being so easy–but he also was so needy for it–and giving passing thought to how transparent he must be for the man to assume correctly that Neal would both give and take, something Neal only recently had learned from Clayton Ambrose.

    Neal’s T-shirt was being pulled over his head. “Carlos wants you to be naked,” was the only explanation Wentworth gave. In high heat now, Neal didn’t really need any explanations.

    Wentworth went back to possessing Neal’s lips as he maneuvered Neal’s right hand down between them, giving a sound of amusement deep in his chest when Neal shuddered at what his hand encountered when Wentworth guided it to his groin. Neal ran his fingers down the length on Wentworth’s cock through the material of his trousers, finding him long, thick, and hard. Wentworth unzipped his fly. Neal’s hand entered on his own accord, found the slit in the briefs, and ran his fingers over the flesh of the still stiffening staff.

    Ferrari continued to watch, bug-eyed, in the reflection of the mirror.

    Neal heard the unbuckling of Wentworth’s belt and the belt buckle ring on the concrete floor as the trousers puddled around his ankles. He came out of the kiss, his eyes capturing Neal’s gaze, a slight, sneery smile on his lips; looking, no doubt for some sign of reluctance or doubt, but finding none. His hands went to Neal’s shoulders and applied gentle pressure. Complying with the obvious request, Neal sank to his knees, his hands sliding Wentworth’s briefs down his legs as Neal descended, his mouth immediately opening to take in Wentworth’s cock.

    After a few moments, Wentworth pulled Neal back up to his feet. As he did so, Neal felt the contours of the disk Wentworth had in his hand, and knew instantly that it was a condom.

    “Carlos wants me to fuck you here, against the wall,” Wentworth said.

    Neal’s eyes went to Ferrari, turned from them at the dressing table, but intently watching them through the mirror, his tongue licking his lips, lust overflowing in his eyes, his hand grasping a freed cock. Neal’s first thought was, “and what do you want, Mr. Host?” but he already knew what he wanted. “Yes,” he whispered.

    Neal both felt and heard his own belt buckle being undone, his shorts sliding down his leg, Wentworth’s hand on his cock, stroking it.

    “God, you’re built big for your height,” Wentworth growled. “Carlos is going to love you.”

    Neal felt the slight tug under his knees on both sides, and, understanding, pulled his feet out of his puddled shorts, and climbed Wentworth’s hips with his knees. Clayton had done him against a wall before; Neal knew how this worked.

    Neal felt the bulb of the cock at his entrance and moaned. “Here it comes,” Wentworth muttered in a raspy voice.

    “Yes, yes, fuck me,” Neal whispered. Then he gasped and gave a little cry as the sheathed cock entered him and started working its way up inside him. He threw his arms around Wentworth’s neck, pressed his cheek into the older, taller man’s hairy chest, his shirt already having been unbuttoned and flared, and whimpered and groaned as the cock started to mine and pump his passage, increasing in speed and intensity until he, first, came on Wentworth’s bare belly, and then Wentworth came deep inside him, with a jerk, inside the condom.

    It was only as they climaxed that Neal realized that Ferrari had been singing, his voice rising and its timbre becoming more frenzied as Wentworth’s thrusts intensified.

    “Now we go for drinks and then to my hotel,” Wentworth muttered, while going flaccid inside Neal. Neal was still moaning and trembling in satisfaction.

    Later in the night, Carlos Ferrari sat, naked, on a chair in Peter Wentworth’s Mills House Hotel bedroom suite, strumming his guitar and watching as Wentworth fucked Neal from behind, bent over the end of the king-sized bed. Wentworth covered Neal’s back closely. His fists grasped Neal’s wrists, spreading Neal’s arms wide on the bedspread on either side. Wentworth’s teeth were closed over the nape of Neal’s neck like that of a cat holding her kitten steady and still. His cock, as long as Ambrose’s, but thicker, pumped Neal’s channel deep. He started slow, governed by Ferrari’s stroking of his guitar and built to a fast and furious pace as Ferrari added complexity, rhythmic beat, and fast finger picking to his playing. At a loud, discordant chord on the guitar, Wentworth arched his back, jerked, threw his head back, and exclaimed his ejaculation to the ceiling.

    He released Neal’s wrists then and stepped back from him. Whimpering, Neal drew his knees up into his belly in a fetal position and, still trembling from the ferocity of the fuck, panted and moaned softly.

    The guitar music stopped, and Neal felt hands on his knees and shoulders, coaxing him to turn on his back, spread his legs, and let the legs flop over the end of the bed. He complied and looked down to see the top of Ferrari’s curly head as he knelt between Neal’s knees, ran his sensuous fingers up Neal’s thighs to rest at the top of the thighs and thrum Neal’s lower belly softly and rhythmically, as Ferrari’s mouth swallowed Neal’s cock and rhythmically sucked the young music student to a throbbing hard. Thus prepared, Neal watched as Ferrari rose, climbed over his hips, lowered his channel on Neal’s cock, and, facing him and looking intently into Neal’s eyes with slitted eyes of his own, started to ride him.

    Later still they moved into a threesome, with Neal covering and fucking Ferrari from behind, while he, in turn, was covered and fucked again by Wentworth.

    They slept in a three-way tangle, which occasionally resulted in a random cock in a random hole, a brief flurry of pumping action, release, and sleep.

    When Neal woke in the morning, both men were gone. There was an envelope on his neatly folded clothes on a chair that contained tickets to each of Ferrari’s remaining three concerts at Spoleto and an invitation to join Ferrari after the concerts. There also was a check for $500, signed by Peter Wentworth on the Wentworth bank.

    * * * *

    Neal found that it was exhausting sitting at Carlos Ferrari’s bedside in the Paraná hospital and listening for the next shallow breath, holding his own breath until Carlos’ next one came–never certain there would be a next one and knowing that at some point there wouldn’t be another one. The musician’s breathing had become so shallow and the waiting so tedious in the dim sterility of the Argentinean hospital room through the night that Neal fancied he was able to relive a day of their life in each of the spaces between one uncertain breath and the next.

    He knew that the time could become perpetual between breaths at any given moment. The doctors had said that it could be any time now. He had wanted to move Carlos down to Buenos Aires, to a more modern hospital and a more experienced set of doctors, but Carlos had forbidden it, saying he’d been born and raised in Paraná and wanted to die here. Such was the respect that the city had for his music that he was receiving the best care they could give him here–at no expense. Carlos had never been one to accumulate money and goods.

    Of course he had accumulated Neal, and now, after twelve years, was fading away under the death sentence of pancreatic cancer, leaving Neal with nothing other than memories–or so Neal assumed. Neal didn’t begrudge this, but he also knew that he wouldn’t receive the regard and support from the people of Paraná that Carlos had. He’d be left, destitute, in this isolated country where he’d not yet, even after twelve years, been able to fully master the Argentine dialect of Spanish–well, the Paraná dialect, which was distinct from what they spoke in Buenos Aires and of little use to him if he wanted to make money from music in the capital city.

    Long after that last breath had been whispered, Neal sat, holding Carlos’ hand. Carlos had been everything to him this past twelve years. Neal had given everything up to follow him from Charleston to Argentina–and then to wherever else in the world Carlos’ renown as a musician had taken him.

    Neal didn’t cry at the finish. He was all teared out–and a bit numb. He was just grateful that Carlos, who he had loved well and mutually satisfactorily for over a decade, was mercifully released from the pain he had endured to manage “just one more” composition. Carlos had dedicated the composition to Neal.

    Neal felt the pressure of a hand on his shoulder, and some instinct told him that it was Peter Wentworth, even though the three of them rarely–but explosively when it occurred–had met over the years since Spoleto in Charleston.

    “You are just a bit late,” Neal said in a flat voice. “He’s gone.”

    “I’ve been here from time to time over the last week,” Wentworth said. “I flew down not long after I heard he was ill. Thank God it didn’t take long once it was inevitable.”

    “Yes, thank God for that,” Neal murmured. “You have been here for a week but didn’t make contact with me? I didn’t know you were here.” Neal was hurt. Wentworth could have given him some support through this ordeal. Had Peter forgotten everything they’d gone through? Was he abandoning Neal as well?

    “I couldn’t bring myself to contact you–not until . . . well, you know, out of respect for your relationship with Carlos.”

    “Yes, I understand,” Neal answered. And he did understand when it was put in that light. In all the time the three of them were together, sexually, it had been Wentworth who Neal melted to. Neal could concentrate on pleasing Carlos when it was just to the two of them, but he naturally gravitated to Peter when he was added to the equation. But both of them realized that Neal was there for Carlos, and both of them had restrained themselves in respect for the musician whose talent had brought them together. Wentworth had even declared that they should meet rarely, to avoid the temptation. It was OK that they fucked with Carlos there, but Wentworth really wanted to have Neal all to himself.

    “There are no impediments any more. Can you come away now–to my hotel?” Wentworth asked.

    “Yes,” Neal said, letting go of Carlos’ lifeless hand for the last time. There was nothing left here for Neal anyway–at least for this time. There was no reason not to go with Wentworth.

    Wentworth fucked him on the foot of the bed in an old, exclusive hotel with large rooms and a shaded balcony. Open French doors led out onto the balcony and the unexpectedly comforting sound of the busy street noises below and let in a breeze to caress the steaming bodies of the fucking men. Neal was on his back, his legs being held raised and spread by Wentworth as, his forehead plastered to Neal’s and his eyes capturing Neal’s to catch every nuance of Neal’s response to the working of the cock inside Neal’s channel, Wentworth adjusted his stroking technique to cause Neal’s eyes to slit the most and his moans to deepen the farthest.

    Wentworth had put a CD of Carlos Ferrari’s music on while they fucked, which both men found comforting and arousing. Always in tune with Carlos’ music, Wentworth harmonized the working of his cock with the texture of the tune playing on Carlos’ CD. This is the first time they’d done this to a recording, though. In times past, Carlos had controlled the fuck with his own singing live.

    Afterward, the two lying in each other arms stretched out on the bed, turned slightly toward the French doors and the cooling breeze on their lightly sweating bodies, Wentworth murmured, “Did Carlos ever tell you how we picked you out–picked you up–in the first place?”

    “No,” Neal answered, surprised. “I didn’t realize there was a story to that. I just thought you gauged me as easy–rightly. I still can’t believe you were assured enough to just ask me straight out if I took cock. And I can’t believe that I answered ‘yes’ straight out and that you jacked me off right there, in the crowded auditorium during the concert. It wasn’t so much that I was easy as that I was vulnerable at that moment.”

    “Yes, I was told you’d be easy. But I also was told that you weren’t really promiscuous, wasn’t a rent-boy type–that you’d be sweet and with a sense of innocence, albeit willing and pliable.”

    “You were told? Told by whom?” But just then, the image of a long ago lover–not his face, but the slenderness and grace of his body, the long cock, slightly upturned–entered his mind. “Professor Ambrose? Clayton Ambrose?”

    “Yes, Clayton. I knew Ambrose–through Spoleto, of course. I was looking for someone to service Carlos while he was at Spoleto in Charleston. He played with so much more inspiration when he had a young man to fuck him–and the coupling of men to watch. The videos on the Internet were not working. I told Ambrose of my need–I didn’t realize at the time that it was my own need as well, but of course it was–and he said he was leaving Charleston and had a relationship with a young music student–you–that he regretted just walking away from. He offered you because he thought it was what you needed, not just because I needed someone to service Carlos during the concerts. I gave him the ticket to the concert to give to you. I hope you’re not–”

    “No, it’s fine,” Neal whispered, putting the finger of one hand to Wentworth’s lips as the fingers of the other hand went to the older man’s rejuvenating cock. “I did have my own need at the time. But I felt like such a slut just to give it that easily.”

    “Neither of us thought of you as a slut. We both could see your need. You were sweet. Carlos was especially taken with you–although I shouldn’t say that. I was taken with you too. But I had host responsibilities. Carlos wouldn’t have seen you as a slut to have asked you to return to Argentina with him.”

    “I can be a slut, though,” Neal said, with a little laugh, as he moved his lips down Wentworth’s body and swallowed his cock.

    Wentworth fucked him this time doggie style on the bed, covering him close from above, as Neal, cheek to bed and arms outstretched in total surrender, gazed out to the blazing light beyond the edge of the shadowed balcony and thought, with appreciation, on his life with Carlos–but also on the restraint he and Wentworth had had to observe, except for the explosive occasional meeting as Carlos watched them fuck. His thoughts also went to his present, uncertain existence.

    “You seem sad. Carlos wouldn’t want you to be sad at his passing,” Wentworth murmured when they once again were stretched out in a close embrace.

    “I’m not sad for Carlos. I’m said for me. I gave him everything. I am empty and alone now. I have no idea what to do now. Everything went to Carlos. I don’t regret that, but I should have kept something for myself, done some planning, especially in these weeks when we knew the end was coming for Carlos.”

    “You weren’t left with nothing,” Wentworth answered. “Carlos has been schooling you in the music since Charleston. He has taught you more, brought out more of your talent, given you more useful experience, than you could ever have learned in that college. You can go on tour yourself now. I can mentor you, just as I discovered Carlos down here, brought him to America, and lifted him up into the international ranks.”

    “You would do that for me?”

    “I’ve been aching to do that for you. You’ve been ready for years. Carlos and I discussed that. We were about to offer you some independence and exposure anyway. Yes, I’d do that for you–and you also don’t need to be alone. You know how I feel about you. You can come away with me and–”

    “Shush,” Neal whispered, putting a finger to Wentworth’s lips again. “I can be easy for you again. The answer is yes.”

    Gently pushing Wentworth over onto his back, Neal reached over to the nightstand for another condom and to switch on the CD again, bringing the soft tenor of Carlos’ guitar-backed crooning into the room with him. Saddling his channel on Wentworth’s sheathed cock, Neal began to ride him slowly as the shadows lengthened out on the balcony–knowing that Carlos’ song would increase in volume and intensity as they fucked, knowing that Carlos wrote this song explicitly for this purpose and was watching them from above with approval and arousal.


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  • A soon-to-be married man who wanted seduced

    The following is a non-fictional account by the author

    A married man who wanted to be seduced

    By Chris

    I don’t remember after all these years why I was out before 8 o‘clock that Saturday morning in October but do remember needing a few minutes to myself. Heading home, I pulled into a park infamous for its gay cruising but knowing it would be empty of cruisers and undercover cops at that hour of the day.

    I was right. The park was vacant of anyone and cars except for the half pick-up truck that was parked in front of the entrance to the vast and heavily wooded area that gave some privacy to gay couples sucking and fucking. I planned a short walk through the woods before going home and, as I got out of my car, I noticed the gay in the half pick-up truck – maybe early 30’s and not bad looking, I thought to myself. Spotting me, the guy straightened up in his truck seat and seemed to be fumbling with something in his lap.

    As expected, the woods were empty of anyone, and it was still early for cruisers to show up. Some 10 minutes into my walk and deep in the woods, I heard the sound of twigs being broken beneath walking feet. I turned around and saw the guy who’d been sitting in the pick-up truck walking behind me, some 25 feet or so away. Tall, dark and better looking than I thought, I said to myself. After a “good morning,” the guy said he hoped he wasn’t “disturbing” me. I assured him he wasn’t and sat down on a huge fallen tree trunk.

    The guy drew closer and stooped into a squatting position some six feet from me and introduced himself as Ron. He said he was getting married that afternoon and he needed some time to himself before taking the “plunge” into marriage. I told Ron I was also just taking some time to myself before heading home. After a few seconds of what felt like awkward silence, I asked Ron if he’d found what he was looking for in the park to get ready for his wedding. “Not yet,” he answered. What else did he need, I asked him. “How about a blow job?” Ron answered in a nervous tone.

    Needing to satisfy myself that Ron wasn’t an early morning undercover cop looking for a bust, I asked him if he was a cop. No, he wasn’t, he giggled nervously. I then asked if I understood him correctly that he wanted me to suck his cock then and there. “Uh, huh,” Ron answered, nodding his head slightly. “Well, then, how ‘bout you lean against that tree to keep a lookout and let me see what you’ve got and if I can help ya’ out,” I told him. Surprisingly, Ron complied quickly, got up from his squat and leaned against the tree as he looked around while he undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans.

    As I walked toward him, Ron pulled his jeans and underwear to his knees. “My God,” I muttered when I saw his beautiful cock, fully hard and 7 ½ to 8 inches long, curved and protruding from a massive black bush of thick pubic hair. Above his heavily haired cock area, Ron’s stomach was even more hairy and had a jet black pleasure trail that glistened in the rising sun. I wanted to suck that incredible, beautiful cock – badly – but asked Ron if he was “sure” about getting his cock sucked. “Yeah,” he said. I then took his cock gently into one of my hands. I saw the piss-slit was already moist with a slight hint of pre-cum. I glided a finger gently over the cock head, and I heard Ron inhale slightly as he collapsed slightly further back onto the tree.

    Assured he wasn’t a cop and was indeed the real thing, I knelt in front of Ron and gently glided my tongue over the piss slit of his cock while I slightly squeezed his balls. They were hard and full, I could feel, ready to be drained of a cumload that I knew needed release. Ron trembled slightly and gasped lightly when he felt the tip of my tongue tickle the head of his cock. More confident then that Ron was indeed the real thing and he was a man who desperately needed his cock milked, I lifted his prick upward and took its entire length in my mouth.

    “O, fuck!” Ron breathed in. I then bobbed my head back and forth along his massive hardness as I wrapped my tongue around his shaft and slinked my tongue over his cock head. I broke from sucking his cock only occasionally to lick and roll his thick, full nuts in my mouth. Devouring his cock while at the same time reaching behind to fondle his manly ass cheeks, I felt Ron spread his legs slightly. As he did, I felt his ass cheeks spread as well – my opening to glide a finger between his ass cheeks. When I did, my own cock – still in my jeans – hardened totally, enough that I fumbled to take my cock out. Beneath a layer of thick hair between Ron’s ass crack, I felt the damp of his natural man juices. Gently working his hole with one hand while I jacked my own cock with my other hand and moving my mouth back and forth along Ron’s cock, I gently opened Ron’s hole and slowly inserted one finger. Ron, trembling more strongly, uttered, “Fuck, yes.” He asked for a second finger in his fuck hole. As he took not only a second but a third finger in his man hole, Ron gasped, “O, guy, you do that pretty good!”

    “Finger-fuck my hole,” Ron pleaded. And I did – with uncaged passion that only two guys locked in serious finger-fucking and cock-sucking can feel. Wanting to feel and taste Ron as long as I could, I fingered his man-pussy and ate his cock gently. And for more than five minutes, Ron savored my three fingers in his fuck hole and his cock down my throat until he groaned, “Fuck, fuck! I’m cumming! I’m gonna fucking cum!”

    And when he did, his cum drenched the walls of my mouth and trickled down my throat and, when Ron’s ass tightened involuntarily as his balls released their aching load, the feel of my fingers trapped inside his asshole was enough for my cock to shoot its own load. As my cock exploded while I trapped Ron’s in an iron grip with my lips to drink every drop of his cum, Ron bent over and wiped my cum from my cock shaft with his finger. Taking my cum into his mouth from his fingers, “Yum! Tastes good!” Ron proclaimed.

    Both of us spent, Ron and I got our cocks back into our pants and straightened our clothes before heading back our cars in the parking lot. We’d gotten away with nearly 10 minutes of incredible man-to-man sex, cock-sucking and finger-fucking without being interrupted or getting busted. Walking back to the parking lot, I wished Ron good luck with his upcoming marriage, and he said he hoped we’d run into each other again someday. “That’d be great!” I said, absolutely convinced I would never again see this incredible specimen of masculinity, never again make love to one of the most beautiful cocks I’d sucked, never again feel the depth of his asshole as I pleasured him with my fingers buried deep in it.

    As kind fate would have it, though, I ran into Ron again at a service station about a month later. Yes, he’d gotten married and had a honeymoon, but his new wife didn’t suck cock like she did when she was just engaged. Could we go back to the park, Ron asked. I had a better – safer – idea. How about we go to my apartment?

    We did. That time, though, Ron found out he loved fucking a man hole more than he did a woman’s pussy. We spent nearly three hours that morning and afternoon in my bedroom and locked together in some real serious man-to-man cock-sucking and fucking – and sharing lots of cum.

    That’s another story, though.


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