Author: admin

  • Two Jocks Lovin

    This is a work of fiction; a story of sex between young athletes. All legal disclaimers apply. If this topic offends you, do not read any further; and ask yourself why you are at this site.  If you are under the age of 18 (21 in some areas) and too young to be reading such material or if you are in a locale or country where it is not legal to read such material then please leave immediately and come back when it is legal for you to do so. We’ll be glad to have you back.

    If you meet the criteria then read on, enjoy, and kindly let me know what you think. On the sites that provide for you to rate the stories or leave comments, I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome.  

    Contact me at [email protected]


     Two Jocks Lovin’

    It was Friday after school, three hours before football practice. Chip Baldwin, a junior, the younger of the two, was stretched out on his bed, naked, slowly stroking his eight-inch cock through his fist. The ceiling fan whirred quietly to cool his muscular, tanned body. Chip didn’t play football. He was a gymnast. He also volunteered around the locker room, helping Coach Addison by picking up after the jocks, washing the towels and whatever else they left lying around, and folding the clean towels in neat stacks on the benches. Some might’ve thought it a demeaning job, but Chip didn’t think so, and neither did the other athletes. They had too much respect for him as an athlete himself. He was just helping out.

          Brad Clarkson, a senior football player, stood back from the bed, his big, sexy hands unbuckling his belt.

          “I love watching you undress,” Chip said.

          “You see me undressing all the time in the locker room,” the older boy said in his deeper, resonant voice as he pulled the buckle apart and unbuttoned his jeans.

          “It’s different here. In the locker room, I can’t do anything about it,” Chip said.

          “You’d like to, though,” Brad said with a sly grin, shoving his jeans down. He balanced himself on one foot then the other to untie his hiking boots then pulled his jeans off.

          “Damn straight. I dream about it,” Chip said, letting his eyes shift up and down Brad’s massive thighs.

          “No shit, you do? Maybe I could arrange for it to happen, you know, talk to some of the guys…..”

          “No,” Chip cut in quickly.  “Nobody can know about me.”

          “I was just kidding. You know I wouldn’t blow our little secret,” Brady said.

          “Put your boots back on, okay?” Chip said.

          “Sure.” He stepped into the cowhide boots and tied the laces again, standing now in his jersey and brief boxers with the bulging pouch. He rubbed one hand across his chest, then downward and ran his hand up under his jersey. Then he tugged at the back to pull it off.

          “Geezusss!” Chip swore softly under his breath as Brad skinned off his jersey, baring his muscular upper body, standing now in his tiny boxers and his boots. 

          Brad smiled.  “How many times have you seen me like this? The boots added, of course.”

          “I never get used to it,” Chip said as he stroked his cock. “Fuck, you’ve got a great chest. And abs to kill for. I love sucking on your tits.”

          Brad’s tight abs rippled when he laughed. “Are you kidding me! Look at you, man, and you’re going on about my chest and abs?”

          “I know I look good but I can’t do to my chest and abs what I can do to yours,” Chip said.

          “Yeah, I like what you do to my chest too,” Brad said with a twinkle in his eye.  “Didn’t know I had feelings in my tits till you started sucking on ‘em.”

          “I’m going to show you other places where you’ve got feelings you didn’t know you had,” Chip said.

          “Oh, yeah? And where would that be? And when’re you going to show me?” Brad asked as he rubbed his hand casually over the bulge of his shorts.

          “Maybe today. Maybe not,” Chip said.

          “Do you want me to take these off?” Brad asked, squeezing his bulge. “Or do you want to take ‘em off of me.”

          “Bring ‘em over here, I’ll take ‘em off for you,” Chip said, holding one arm out to beckon him to the bed. Impressive as the guy’s bulging boxers were, Chip’s eyes stayed on his massive thighs.  “Fuck, I love to watch you walk, seeing those huge muscles in your thighs jump and flex with each step.”

          “Like this?” Brad said, and backed up to walk toward the bed again.

          “Yeah, like that. You’ve got the biggest, sexiest legs in the locker room. They’re more like tree trunks than actual tree trunks.”

          Brad moved closer to the bed, his knees pressed into the side of the mattress, and Chip wrapped his arm around his right thigh.

          “Fuck! I could worship just your thighs alone,” he said huskily.

          “I wouldn’t care,” Brad said. “You can worship anything I’ve got.”

          “Godd, I wish I could live my dream, with you right in the middle of it,” he said.

          “Serious, man, I could start feeling the guys out, real casual like, one at a time of course, without mentioning specific names,” Brad said.

          “I wish you could, but I can’t let anybody find out. It would destroy me at school,” Chip said.

          “Not necessarily. People are a lot more understanding and tolerant about that shit than they used to be. And they would be a lot more tolerant of you, being the school’s only famous gymnast.”

          “Not understanding and tolerant enough for me to take the chance. All it would take is the wrong guy to grab it and turn it into something dirty,” Chip said.

          “I would punch him out if he did,” Brad said.

          “Thanks, but I don’t need you to protect me,” Chip said.

          “I know you don’t. I would be doing it for myself, to let people know how I feel about it. Frankly, I don’t think anybody would care if you’re gay.”

          Chip glanced at his watch. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m fisting a huge hardon here, and you’re the cause of it. And you still have to eat before you go to football practice.”

          “Sorry. But I like talking to you.  You’re an easy guy to talk to.  I like watching you lie there, all naked and hunky, fisting your big hardon, too.”

          “You do? I didn’t know you got turned on by other guys,” Chip said with a mischievous grin.

          “In the locker room, I don’t. But here, with you, when I know what’s gonna happen….it’s real easy to get turned on.”  He laughed. “Your body’s got something to do with it.”

          “Then let’s make it happen,” Chip said.

          Brad climbed on the bed and straddled Chip’s chest with his shorts still on. He rose up on his haunches and smashed the bulge of his shorts in Chip’s face.

          “You didn’t take ‘em off, you’re gonna have to chew ‘em off of me, or suck my cock through ‘em,” Brad said.

    “How would you explain a pair of chewed up shorts to your mom,” Chip said. “I’d better take ‘em off of you.”

          “No, this is good enough for now. Torture yourself.  Torture both of us, get ‘em wet with your spit,” Brad said as he smashed his bulge harder against his friend’s face.

    Chip wrapped his arms around Brad’s thighs and pulled him tighter, groaning with pleasure as he mouthed the meaty bulge through the thin cotton material. He moved his hands up to grab hold of his round, tight butt muscles, still mouthing the bulge like a hungry dog trying to get to the raw meat.

    When he pulled on the back of his shorts, Brad pulled the waistband of his shorts down and tucked it under his balls, leaving his big, heavy cock and balls laying on Chip’s face. “I could’ve showered,” he said.

          “No, I like you like this, still sweaty,” Chip said. “I like licking your sweat.” With that he began lapping his tongue in the apex of Brad’s thighs, licking off the sweaty-musk of his most recent athletic activities.  “You taste salty,” he murmured.

          “Just like my cum?” Brad said.

          “No, your sweat tastes better,” said Chip.

          “I never heard you complain about how my cum tastes, and never knew you to spit it out,” Brad said.

          “How could I spit it out, you’ve always got my mouth plugged with that big meat plug.”

          “I would like to plug something else with it,” Brad said. Then his expression turned serious, as did his tone. “You know all the jokes we hear about guys getting fucked in the ass….do you think you would ever let me fuck you?  ‘Cause you’ve got the most awesome ass in school.”

          “I’ve been working on that,” Chip said.

          “Yeah? Working on it? What do you mean?” Brad asked excitedly.

          “In my head; working on my courage,” Chip said. “You’re big, and I’ve never done it before.”

          “I would take it as easy as you want me to. I wouldn’t hurt you, not on purpose anyway. And I would love to be your first.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across Chip’s forehead.

    Chip was more than a little surprised at Brad’s sudden display of affection. He’d never gotten that lovey before. Chip tilted his head to find Brad gazing down at him.  Their eyes met and held fixed like no other time. Brad brushed his nose against Chip’s nose.

    “I’d give anything–anything—for you to let me be the first to penetrate this terrific body,” he murmured. “Godd, that would be so awesome!” 

    Chip could smell his sweat breath on his face and he shivered inside at the immediate prospect upon him, that Brad was going to kiss him.  Oh, God, let it happen, he prayed. Kiss me, you big stud.  Do it.

          When he didn’t, Chip said, “I’ve already made up my mind about that; that if it ever happens, it’ll be with you the first time.”

          “Oh, yeah? Were you going to consult me about it, see if I even wanted to pop your cherry?” Brad asked, suddenly breaking the mood.

          “Give me a break,” Chip scoffed, laughing. “There’s not a hole anywhere that you wouldn’t plug with that big hunk of man meat.”

          “I know, I’m a horny bastard, but there are only two holes I’m really interested in plugging, and they’re both yours,” Brad said.

          “I’m getting close to it in my head,” Chip said. “We could possibly do it today but there’s not time.”

          “That sounds like a cop out. We don’t have time so that’s why you’re offering.”

          “It’s not a cop out. Do you wanta come back after practice?”

          “It’s gonna be late,” Brad said.

          “It don’t matter how late. You could spend the night.”

          “Okay, you’re on, stud,” Brad said.  “But till then….right now….do you think you could take care of this for me?”

          “Damn, I hate fast blowjobs,” Chip joked as he went back to sucking Brad’s cock.

     For the moment they lost track of time and forgot all about football practice. Brad was more animated than times before, doing most of the work, using Chip’s mouth as his pussy. Chip wondered if he even realized that it was him, a guy, taking care of his needs or if his mouth was just another wet, warm hole for him.  He didn’t care, for he was as caught up in their lust as Brad was. 

     He couldn’t get enough of the big athlete’s muscles and his tight, hard butt in his hands. He used his grip on the hard muscles to pull the boy’s cock harder into his throat. Once, when he pulled back for air he attacked Brad’s balls, sucking one then the other into his mouth, mauling them till Brad winced. He released them and dove further in behind them, licking the apex of his thighs and wanting more.  He pulled Brad tighter against his face and he rose up on his haunches so Chip could get deep between his thighs. 

     “Higher,” Chip groaned and Brad, realizing with delight what he was after, rose up over his head so he could lick his ass crack.  “Ohh, Godd….UUhhnnnnn,” Chip moaned as the twin mounds were parted for his hungry mouth and darting tongue.  “Godd, I love your ass!”

     “Aww, shit!” Brad gasped as he gripped the headboard and rode his ass wildly back and forth over Chip’s face.  “Fuck, yeah, eat that ass!  Can you get your tongue up in there?  Fuck it, I’m skipping practice.”

     In that instant Chip eased him away.  “Oh, no you’re not,” he said as he smacked his butt and forced him down astraddle his chest. 

     “Ohh, Mann! You can’t leave me like this!”

     “Watch me,” Chip said as he shoved him to the side, causing him to almost lose his balance.  Brad recovered and stood down off the bed, his hard cock swaying back and forth. He grabbed it, whining, “Fuck, it hurts!”

    Chip showed him no sympathy.  “Get dressed,” he said.

    “They can get along without me this one time.”

    “Maybe so, but you can’t disappoint all the girls and boys waiting to ogle your tint ass in your football pants,” Chip said.

    “You are one cruel fucker,”  Brad complained as he started getting dressed.  “Are you coming to my practice to ogle my ass?”

    “I don’t have to. I’ve got a bird’s eye view,” Chip replied. “See you after practice.”

    “Godd, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

    “Quit bitching. Think of the testosterone buildup you’ve got. You oughta tear up some ass out there.”

    “I’m gonna tear your ass up when I get back,” Brad growled. 

    “I’m still thinking on that,” Chip said.

    “You’d better think fast.”

    Chip flipped him off then waved as he was going out the door.

    “It’ll be late,” Brad called over his shoulder.

    “I’ll be here, let yourself in,” Chip said.

    The decision was made. And why not? The circumstances were right. With Chip’s parents out of town they would have complete privacy.  And the desire was there, undeniably. Chip had been wrestling with the desires for a long time, and now Brad had brought it up. It was an opportunity not to be denied.

    Chip slipped on a pair of athletic shorts and went out to the garage to get the plastic bottle he’d purchased at the drug store in anticipation of this event.  He’d read the directions on the box and tossed it and hid the bottle behind the seat, well-hidden till the time came to use it.

    When he’d prepared himself he showered and shaved. Not that he needed to shave that often but he wanted to be perfect for Brad. Then he fixed a bite to eat.  It was a strange and good feeling, being so clean inside and out.  When he’d eaten he went up to his room to wait. He started watching some porn but had to stop because it got him too hot and excited, and he wanted to save himself for Brad. As the time neared he pondered how he should present himself; if he should be naked on the bed or be wearing something, perhaps his gym shorts and a jockstrap. In the end he decided on just his jockstrap. It seemed appropriate since he was a jock waiting on another jock. And lying on his stomach, the jockstrap would frame his ass that Brad liked so much. He lubed up and waited.

    When he heard Brad come in he quickly turned down his desk lamp, plunging the room into a dim light that he hoped would appear sexy. Brad taped on the door for some reason.

    “Come in.”

    The door opened and there he stood in his uniform, including his helmet but holding his cleats. The way he filled the doorway with his large frame sent chills down Chip’s spine.

    “I didn’t change,” he said. His voice was husky.

    “Good. I was hoping you wouldn’t,” Chip said.

    “It was a rough practice, it might not be pleasant.”

    “I smell good enough for both of us,” Chip said as he sat on the edge of the bed. He forgot all about his he intended to present him.

    “Yeah, I noticed. What’s that you’ve got on?” 

    “Bod.”

    “Yeah, I’ve seen guys in the locker room use it.  I need to get me some,” Brad said as he moved into the room and stood in front of his buddy. “I’m guessing you want to do the honors,” he said.

    “You guessed right,” Chip said as he began exploring the big athlete’s frame through his uniform. “I’ve always wanted to do this, feel up a football player in his uniform then take it off of him.”

    “You’ve got your man,” Brad said.

    “Only thing better would be doing it in the locker room.”

    “Maybe I can arrange that sometime. How many other football players do you want present?”

    “I’ll have to think about that some more.  Right now I’ve got all the football player I can handle.”  He pulled Brad in tight, pressing his face against the front of his uniform pants where he could the hard lump of his cup.  He reached down to feel his bulging calf muscles. He ran his hands around the hairy muscles then moved up his legs to where his lean hips were encased in the hip pads, then back down his thighs, feeling the rock like muscles inside the pants. Around back he clasped the taut, round butt muscles and felt the straps of his jockstrap through the thin material. 

    “These need to come off,” he said as he began unlacing the laces in front.

    “Whatever you say,” Brad said.

    The pants unlaced, he dug inside to take out the hip pads then slowly tugged the pants down off his hips and butt.

    “Wow! This is classy,” he murmured when he sat the Shock Doctor jockstrap.

    “Whatever you say,” Brad repeated, laughing softly.  “Never heard it called classy; it’s a jockstrap.”

    “This is no ordinary jockstrap,” Chip said as he wrapped his hand over the protrusion. “No ordinary cup either,” he said, squeezing the bulge.

    “It’s a flex cup,” Brad said. “It’s way more comfortable and it offers a little flexibility instead of feeling like your junk is in a steel lock box.”

    Chip pressed his face against the jock and blew into it.

    “Yeah, it breathes, too, that feels good,” Brad said.

    Chip pulled the pants down and removed the thigh pads and tossed them aside, then he finished pulling the pants off. “Godd, what a sight,” he said as he ran his hands up and down Brad’s muscular thighs.  “Why don’t you take off the helmet.”

     Brad removed the helmet and tossed it on the bed. “The jersey, too?” he asked.

    “No, not yet. I wanta look at you like this for a minute.”

    “You’ve got such admiration for football players, why don’t you go out for football yourself, you could be around them all the time?” Brad asked.

    “I’m not a team guy,” Chip replied as he ran his hand up under the mesh jersey. He dragged his fingertips down the hard stomach muscles. “To die for,” he said as he rose up to kiss up under the jersey.

    “Mann, your tongue does things to me,” Brad murmured, and he pulled the jersey up so he could see Chip kissing his abs. 

    Chip kissed his way up between the front of the Riddell shoulder pads where he took the laces in his teeth to loosen them. “I wanta get to your pecs,” he said, “and suck those hard tits.”

    “I’ll help you,” Brad said as he reached for the laces, but Chip brushed his hand away.

    “Let me do it.”

     Brad dropped his hands and let Chip finish undoing the laces till the equipment sat loosely on his broad shoulders.

    “You can take ‘em off now, real slow,” he told him.

    Brad lifted the shoulder pads off and let them drop to the floor and looked down at Chip looking up at him.

    “Geezuss, your shoulders don’t quit,” Chip said. “It’s almost like you don’t need pads.”

    “I wouldn’t want to go out there without ‘em,” Brad said.

    Chip was running his hands down Brad’s sides, over his hips and around his butt. “Godd, your body drives me nuts,” he murmured as he pressed his face into the warm, damp jockstrap. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He lay back on the bed, patting his chest. Brad straddled him with his jockstrap pressed against his face.  Chip began mouthing the musky material, turning the warm dampness into wet. Brad’s cock grew harder, straining against the mesh material.

    “Have you decided yet if you’re gonna let me take your cherry?”

    Chip nodded.

    “You’ve decided, or you’re gonna let me?” Brad asked.

    “You can fuck me.”

    “There’s no taking back those words,” Brad said. He cupped his hands around Chips head and smashed his face hard in his jock.  Then he let go and moved down on the bed, between Chip’s legs.  “You’re such a stud yourself, I can’t believe you’re gonna let me.”

    “Just don’t make me regret it,” Chip said.

    “I won’t.  I promise I’ll make it good for you. The best. Just tell me how you like it best and I’ll do it.”

    Brad brought Chip’s legs straight up and spread them out wide.  “You say you’ve dreamed and fantasized….I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve laid in bed and dreamed of this.”

    “You have, no kidding?”

    “You really don’t know how hot you are, do you?” Brad said. “I’m gonna show you.  In my ongoing fantasy, I tell you that if you’ll please give your virginity up to me, I’ll pay the price, I’ll be deserving of it. I’m gonna show you now.” And with that he leaned down and took Chip’s cock in his mouth. 

      “UUhnnnn! Awwh, Godd!” Chip groaned. “You don’t have to do this, Brad. My ass is yours, you don’t have to pay any price for it.”

    But Brad kept sucking through twenty or so strokes before he rose up, wiping his mouth with his forearm. “You’ve got a great cock.  I wish I could do it better.”

    “You did fuckin’ fine,” Chip declared. “But why’d you do that? You didn’t need to.  You don’t need to bribe me.”

    “It wasn’t a bribe. I was showing my respect, for your body and for your courage. I think it takes a real man of courage to turn his butt for another man’s pleasure.” He was busy tugging his cock out of his jockstrap and when he did, he held it out for Chip’s approval. “I mean, seriously, how many guys would have the courage to take on a cock this size.”

    “Seeing you like that, my courage is waning,” Chip said.

    “No it’s not. You haven’t asked me not to bust your cherry; you haven’t said you wanta change your mind.”

    “What if I did wanta change my mind? You said I couldn’t take it back.”

    “You say the word and I’ll take the words back for you, we can wait till you’re sure,” Brad said.

    “I was sure till I saw that big cock of yours. I still am, Brad. I’m not backing out.”

    “I am,” Brad said as he crawled up beside him.

    “Don’t, Brad. I said you could fuck me and I meant it.”

    “I said I wanta fuck you, more than anything in the world, and I meant that.  But there’s no rush. I know your word’s good; I know it’s going to happen so there’s no rush. I’m happy to lie here together and enjoy each other’s company.  There’s no other guy on earth I could be doing this with; no other guy I can be this close to.” He turned onto his side and laid his hand on Chip’s chest.  “You might be surprised to hear this, but it’s not all about the sex. It’s a lot more than that. There’s admiration and respect, and I love you like more’n a brother, and all of that besides you having a terrific body. You get my meaning?”

    “I’m starting to,” Chip said.  “I didn’t know you felt this way.”  

    “I’ll tell you how else I feel. Lying in bed thinking about us, I think how one-sided it is. You giving and me getting all the pleasure. I’ve thought of how it’d be if it wasn’t so one sided.”

    “It’s not one sided, Brad. You’re not getting all of the pleasure. You need to understand how much I like having sex with you; what a privilege it is for me. I love your body, I love your big cock, I love feeling your cum shooting in my mouth, and tasting it. You think I’m doing it out of obligation? The best times of my life are spent with you. And like you said, there’s nobody else on the planet I could be doing this with. I mean, just lying here like this talking and enjoying your company. You don’t ever have to do anything back, Brad. Just being you and giving yourself to me is enough.”

    “Is that how you see it? I’m giving myself to you?  “You don’t think it’s like using you?” 

    “No, but if it is, I’m using you as much as you’re using me. You use my mouth, I use your cock.  You use my mouth for your cum dump, I’m getting the pleasure of your cock shooting all that thick, hot cum in my mouth. I like it, Brad. It’s not demeaning or humiliating; I like it. What I don’t like is this conversation, you thinking you have to do something back. But if you want to do something huge…..”

    “What? What do you wanta do?  Tell me.”

    “I’d like for us to make out….you know, kissing and holding each other, like you would be doing if I was a girl. But that might be asking a lot.”

    “No, it’s not,” Brad said. “Come here.”  He put his hand on Chip’s hip and pulled him against him, both on their sides. As their bodies pressed together Brad kissed him.

    “Oh, Godd,” gasped softly before his words were muffled with the big jock’s lips.  He whinnied like a mare in heat as he felt Brad’s tongue forcing its way in his mouth. As the passion built Brad rolled over on top of him, writhing his body hard against him, devouring his mouth and sucking on his tongue. Chip was seeing stars as tiny electrical jolts shot through him. His asshole tightened and tingled and his cock throbbed rock hard. Suddenly he lost control.

    If Brad felt the hot, thick cum shooting between them he didn’t seem to mind. When the passion subsided he parted their lips and cocked his head up.

    “Damn, dude,” he said, laughing.

    “I’m sorry, it just happened; I couldn’t hold off,” Chip said.

    “No, no, don’t be sorry.  It was awesome that I got you off just by kissing you. I never had that effect on a girl.”

    “We’re a mess,” Chip said.

    Brad slowly rose up, looking down at the thick cum that clung to their bodies like warm glue.

    “Shit, you cum like a pony.”

    “It felt like the hardest cum I ever had,” Chip said. He took Brad by the shoulders.  “You can still fuck me.”

    “I was about to,” Brad said, still laughing.

    “Go ahead.”

    “Naw, you got off. You wouldn’t be in the mood.”

    “I’m still tingling all through. My hole is trembling; my ass is on fire.”

    “If you’re sure.”

    “Yes.  Please,” Chip said as he managed to work his legs from under the muscular jock.  He spread them and lifted them on either side of Brad’s hips.

    “You don’t have to say please, just thank you,” Brad joked. He scooped up some cum and used it for lube on his cock and Chip’s ass.  He wiped his hand on the sheet then set the head of his cock against the slick hole. “I can feel your asshole clenching against my cock.”

    “It’s begging,” Chip said.

    Brad pushed against the tight hole. “If this hurts too much……”

    “It won’t,” Chip cut in. When he felt his asshole begin to give way he hunkered his butt up to meet the big athlete’s gentle thrust and he was suddenly impaled. “UUhhnnn!” he moaned softly.

    “Aww, fuck!” Brad gasped. 

    When they were locked together, deep and throbbing, they held each other for a long moment.

    “Does this qualify as taking your cherry?” Brad asked.  “Or do I have to fuck it out of you?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Better not take any chances,” Brad said as he slowly pulled back and when he was nearly out he shoved back in.

    “Ohhh, Goddd!” Chip groaned, pressing his head back in the pillow.

    “Too much?” Brad asked.

    “No. Just too awesome. Fuck me.”

    Then End  

    Dear Readers;

                                                       
    Over the years I’ve had many of you say that my stories should be published; that you would purchase them if they were. Despite the much appreciated support from readers, my venture into publishing did not turn out well. Some of the ads on Amazon offered e-stories FREE for purchasing their reader; they were giving away my work for their own benefit. And AFTER the stories were published I received their ridiculous Author’s Agreement which I refused to sign and I stopped sending them any more stories and then I put the stories back on the free sites.

             For those of you who are still interested, I have set up a way for you to make donations in whatever amount you wish. No pressure; your support will be much appreciated, but whether you choose to donate or not is of course entirely up to you. If you wish to donate, please send cash, check or money order to ROBERT TREILING (he is my editor and “agent”). Checks or money orders should be made out to Robert Treiling, at:

     

    Robert Treiling;  P. O. Box 216;   Sea Cliff, NY 11579.

    Thank you, in advance. Since I do not collect addresses (or phone numbers) you will not receive a note of thanks unless you email me and I will send a confirmation that your donation has been received.

    Pete


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


  • Trial Of Strength (Book 7)

    “JUNGLE FANTASIES – REAL-LIFE PASSIONS”


    In the previous chapter

    Randy, the blunt-speaking leader of the tribe, said it best to the new boy Larry.

    With his usual lack of finesse, he chuckled, “Hell, kid, you look like you just hit the jackpot. That glow can only mean one thing. You fucked, didn’t you? You fucked a guy for the first time, am I right? The jungle drums round here have been keeping us up with your sexual exploits all day. Looks like you’ve been fucking your way through the clan pretty good.”

    Larry had been with them only a week but in that time he had earned his place in the tribe. More importantly for him, he had officially become Mike’s boy. Better known as Uncle Mike, the middle-aged bar-owner from Palm Springs had been visiting the clan when Larry burst on the scene.

    In his early twenties, Larry was new to sex with men, but despite their age difference and Mike’s warning they should take things slowly, they grew ever closer. Larry’s youthful, eager sexuality had eventually won the day and at last Mike had proclaimed for all to hear, “I’m gonna take care of him, I’m gonna teach him. He’s coming to live with me.”

    And so Friday came, the day set for Mike’s return home to the desert … taking Larry with him. “So today’s the big day, kiddo,” Mike said as they lay in bed early that morning. “We’ll leave this afternoon. And tomorrow we’ll be joined in the desert by Mark and Jamie, Jason and Ben. You haven’t had much to do with Jason yet, the hottest fireman in any calendar,” Mike grinned, “so you’ll have a chance to get to know him better. Should be an interesting weekend.

    “But this morning, before we go, I wanna introduce you to my young nephew Brian. He’s my only relative, he’s in a wheelchair and lived a lonely life in an old trailer park in the desert until the tribe saved him. He now works up at the Grady House and we’re invited for an early lunch.

    Larry was tingling with excitement as they arrived at the big, solid gates that gave no hint of the luxurious house behind them. Mike pressed a button at the keypad and an excited young voice came from the intercom. “Uncle Mike, is that you? Come on in, we were expecting you.” The gates swung silently open, Mike drove in and they quickly closed behind them. “That was my nephew Brian,” Mike said.

    “How did he know it was you, sir?” Mike pointed upwards. “Cameras at the gate and all round the place. Mark and Randy installed a heavy security system here. Look there’s Brian.”

    A boy in a wheelchair came spinning out to meet them and Mike introduced them. Brian offered to give Larry a tour of the opulent house but first went off to clear it with Mario. Larry asked Mike, “But why all the secrecy and security, sir? Is this Mario famous or something?”

    Before he could answer Brian came rolling back and said, “OK, dude, come with me.” Inside, Larry looked around wide-eyed … he had never seen such a big, beautiful house. They went upstairs in the elevator and as they walked into the wide corridor a beautiful, dark-haired man, casually but elegantly dressed, came out of a room and broke into a dazzling smile.”

    Ah, che bel ragazzo. You must be Larry,” Mario said in his lilting Italian accent, “and I was not here to meet you. Imperdonabile – mi scusi, Larry. We have heard so much about you from Uncle Mike, I think you have quite bewitched him. And now we get to meet you.” He shook the hand of the dazzled boy who stammered, “Hello, sir.”

    “Grady will be home from the studio soon,” Mario smiled. “He only had a few short scenes this morning – they’re shooting the sequel already, you know.” Apparently, Larry thought, Mario wrongly assumed he knew all about this Grady character. Must be Mario’s lover. “We thought we would have lunch by the pool. Danny is preparing it right now and Brandon is coming up to help out. Come, let’s go downstairs.”

    Outside Mike was with Danny who was wearing an apron and chef’s hat and greeted Larry enthusiastically. Just then came the sound of tires in gravel outside, the gate swung open and in came a jeep with a man behind the wheel wearing cargo shorts, a loose tank top, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes which were hidden behind sunglasses.

    “Amico!” Mario shouted and ran toward him. The man threw off his cap, pulled off his sunglasses and opened his arms for Mario to fall into them. Larry’s jaw dropped and his heart missed a beat. “That … that looks like the Tarzan guy. His picture’s all over St. Louis.”

    “All over the country, dude,” Brian said with a touch of pride. “All over the world probably. Yup, he’s Tarzan alright. His movie’s gonna be real big.”

    “But he’s … I mean he’s about the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. And he’s Mario’s lover? I mean, he lives here?”

    “That’s why it’s called the Grady House, dude,” Danny grinned. “But don’t be nervous. He’s not a bit like a movie star. He’s just one of the guys here.” As if to prove the point Grady broke free of Mario and shouted across the garden, “Larry!”

    Mario’s greeting upstairs had been warm and a touch formal, but Grady was much more effusive. He bounded forward, scooped Larry into a tight hug and said, “Great to meet you, you young heart-breaker. I hear you’re stealing Uncle Mike away from us. Well, it’s about time he found a soul-mate and I’m real glad it’s you.”

    Grady threw his arm round Larry and focused all his attention on him as he talked. The charismatic actor had the knack of making him feel he was the only boy in the world right now.

    “But … but …” Larry sputtered. “Are you really the new Tarzan in that movie? I can’t believe it.”

    “Hey, do you hear that guys?” Grady laughed. “If Larry don’t believe I’m Tarzan the audiences won’t either and the movie will bomb. Only one thing for it … I guess I’ll have to prove it.” In an instant he pulled off his tank-top, dropped his shorts and held his arms out dramatically. He was wearing only his Tarzan loincloth that he’d had on under his shorts.

    Larry gasped at the sight of this stunning muscle-jock with the perfect physique and handsome, smiling face, stripped down to a loincloth. “Still don’t believe me, dude? OK, stand by for blasting.” He cupped his hands round his mouth and let out an earsplitting Tarzan yell. The group bust out laughing and Larry said, “OK, sir, I believe you. It’s just that I’ve seen your picture everywhere and never dreamed I’d actually meet you.’

    “Well, if we’re talking dreams here I guess I gotta give you something special to remember. Hey, Danny, how long do we have before lunch?”

    “Oh, a good hour, sir.”

    “Great, so we have time. Larry, I’m gonna show you the ritual of the house. When I come home from the studio the first thing I do is take a plunge in the pool to wash off the sweat of the studio. Then I climb out and make love to my gorgeous Italian hunk here. And … on special occasions – which this is – we can’t even wait to get to our room so we do it right here in front of everyone.” He grinned. “We have no shame – or inhibitions.

    “And, here’s the kicker. When there is a guest of honor we even invite him to join in. Now, today is a celebration of new love – the love between you and Uncle Mike. So guess what? You, Larry, are the guest of honor. You get it?”

    Grady ran to the pool and the others followed him. He paused at the edge … and dived in, a real Tarzan dive, body stretched, muscles rippling in the hot sun. As they all looked on he swam powerful stokes from one end of the pool to the other and back.

    In a daze Larry looked at Brian and said, “Am I dreaming dude, or is this for real?”

    “Oh it’s real alright,” Brian laughed. “We’ve all had the treatment, and now it’s your turn. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

    Grady swam over to them and rested his folded arms on the edge of the pool, his glorious face, streaming with water, beaming up at them. “Mario, mi amore, get naked. It’s showtime.”

    ********************  CHAPTER 350  ********************

    Grady pulled himself strongly from the pool and stood smiling at the group with water pouring down his muscular body, his wet loincloth clinging to his hips and over the bulge of his cock. He held his arms out wide. “See, Larry, now do you believe I’m Tarzan?”

    Larry was speechless. He had seen many previous Tarzan movies where the jungle-man swims across a river and pulls himself up the bank, but it had never looked as gorgeous as this Tarzan. And this time it was as if Tarzan had come down from the screen and was actually standing in front of him. “I … I can’t believe you’re real,” Larry stammered.

    Grady laughed, “Well, if you don’t believe your eyes you’ll believe the touch, especially when the jungle man is wet.” Grady wrapped his arms round Larry and he felt the warm, wet flesh of the muscular body pressed against him. “That real enough for you, kiddo? Make you feel like you’re in the movie? OK, time to let your imagination run wild. One thing we like in this house is fantasy, eh, Brian … eh, Danny?”

    “Yes sir!” they said in unison.

    “Good, so let’s spice things up a bit. Where did Mario go? Ah!”

    Grady went to a nearby tree where a rope was hanging from a branch, evidently something he had used in the past when playing games with Mario. He stretched up and grabbed the rope, took a few steps backward, then launched himself forward, like Tarzan on a vine, and dropped to the ground a few feet from Mario.

    Mario knew the game well and loved to indulge his playful lover. It excited the handsome Italian to be part of this gorgeous jock’s sex games and he played his part well. As instructed he had stripped naked and was now leaning back against a tree. And to ‘spice things up’ as Grady had said, Mario’s arms were stretched back round the tree and he had wrapped a short rope round his own wrists behind it.

    To Larry’s fertile imagination Tarzan had just swung in to rescue the naked prisoner … Well that’s how the movie usually went … but this was no ordinary movie. Grady affected a surprised look as he gazed at the beautiful dark-haired man tied to a tree, his chiseled features wincing with dread (though his rock-hard cock somehow contradicted his look of fear).

    “So, what do we have here?” the loin-clothed Grady said lasciviously, pacing back and forth in front of him. He reached out and ran his hand lightly over his muscular chest and ripped abs.

    Mesmerized, Larry whispered to Brian, “What’s he gonna do to him? Fuck him?”

    “Dunno,” Brian grinned. “Guess he’ll do what comes naturally to a jungle-man. Feel free to stroke you’re cock, dude. We always do at times like this.” Just then Brandon arrived for lunch, and wheeled himself over to the group. He whispered to Danny, “The jungle scene again?”

    “Of course,” Danny grinned, “what else? This time it’s for Larry’s benefit.”

    By now Tarzan was stroking the bound man’s face, neck, chest abs and thighs, avoiding (for now) his genital area. “Who did this to you? Does the handsome prisoner want me to release him? Maybe I will, but first … mm, you’re body feels so good.” Grady gazed into Mario’s brown eyes, grabbed the sides of his head, leaned forward and pressed his lips on his mouth, probing inside with his tongue.

    “Mmm, you taste good, naked man – I wonder if the rest of you would be to Tarzan’s taste.” He kissed Mario’s eyes, licked his neck, then all the way down his body, and lowered himself to his knees in front of him, gazing at his rock-hard dick already oozing pre-cum. For dramatic effect Mario struggled as if puling at the ropes to get free.

    “You cannot escape, young man, until I have tasted your manhood.”

    Totally lost in the fantasy Larry was stoking his cock with one hand and squeezing Brian’s hand with the other. He felt he was living a new Tarzan fantasy, though this one was unlike any Tarzan movie he had ever seen … the jungle man in his loincloth on his knees before the beautiful, naked captive, gazing hungrily at his cock. “He’s gonna suck his dick,” Larry moaned, partly to Brian partly to himself. “Tarzan’s gonna suck dick. Tarzan don’t suck dick.”

    “This one does,” Brian chuckled. “Just watch.”

    And that’s just what Tarzan did, sliding his mouth over the long cock, swallowing it down to the back of his throat. He began to suck the shaft slowly making guttural groans while Mario rolled his head from side to side in ecstasy. Larry pounded his meat but Brian warned quietly, “Don’t cum, dude, whatever you do. You’re gonna need all your jizz soon.”

    Grady too pulled back, careful not to make Mario cum, and the captive groaned in frustration. He stood up and gave a lecherous grin. “I am not finished with you, stranger. If you are my prisoner … so is your ass.” Grady reached round and untied the ropes, then turned Mario round and pushed him face-first against the tree, his arms round it, and roped them to a stub of a branch high on the other side. “Now he’s gonna fuck him,” Larry said out loud.

    Cupping his hands over the white globes of Mario’s ass Grady groaned, “Yes … yes … I have to take it … it is mine.” He pressed his bulging loincloth against the flexed ass as Mario moaned “No!” and struggled again. Ignoring his pleas Grady pulled his cock out of his loincloth, spat on it, stroked it, and eased it between the cheeks and into the warm depths of the Italian’s ass.

    As Larry watched Tarzan ploughing the ass of his naked prisoner tied to the tree his cock was shuddering, about to unload, so he grabbed the hands of Brian on one side and Danny on the other. Mario was struggling and moaning out loud, “Nobarbarobastabasta!

    But Grady continued fucking. Like a good actor and fantasist he was really getting into his role, much to the delight of the audience. “You are a beautiful man, stranger, and I will own your ass. I will keep you here as Tarzan’s sex slave. You will be my mate, and all day I will fuck your face and your ass. You will never escape from me.”

    “No!” Mario shouted again. He struggled mightily and yanked at the ropes biding his wrists behind the tree. Of course they both knew that Grady had used the ‘escape knot’ that Randy had taught everyone, and Mario now made use of it. He yanked on the dangling loose end, the ropes unraveled and his arms were free. He pushed back against Grady, forcing his cock out of him and sending him falling on his back on the grass.

    Mario launched himself on him and they struggled fairly convincingly for a few minutes until Mario was on top, pinning Grady’s arms to the ground above his head with one hand. “Now we shall see who the captive is here … see how much Tarzan can suffer,” Mario growled – again quite convincingly. He had played this scene before.

    With his free hand he ripped a hole in the loincloth, pushed one of Grady’s legs up high and (knowing exactly what his lover liked) pushed his dry cock through the hole and slowly into his wet ass. Tarzan howled in pain (as Grady howled in ecstasy) ‘suffering’ the humiliation of having this handsome dark-haired stranger fuck his ass on the jungle floor.

    Totally immersed in the graphic scene Larry shouted, “No, Tarzan don’t take cock up his ass.”

    Danny chuckled, “He does in this house, dude – twice daily, sometimes more.”

    Mario heard their exchange and flashed a quick grin at Danny, then frowned as he returned to the serious task of fucking Tarzan. “Look at me, you savage. Feel my rod in your ass and your own stiff dick. I think the jungle man likes me, likes to get fucked by the stranger.”

    “Oh … oh man,” Grady groaned. Even his acting talent was not up to faking fear and anger and hide the ecstasy he was feeling as his Italian lover fucked him. But Mario determined to prolong the fantasy just a bit longer for the benefit of their new young friend. He suddenly pulled out and commanded, “On your knees, jungle man.”

    Obediently Grady turned over and knelt on all fours, positioning himself directly in front of Larry. Kneeling behind him Mario once again drove his cock into the muscle-jock’s willing ass and Grady threw his head back and howled. As Mario jackhammered his ass from behind he reached down to the ground and picked up the fallen rope from before. He looped it round the captive’s neck and gently pulled his head back so Grady found himself gazing up at Larry.

    The boy stared in wonder at the pornographic sight of the macho muscle-god on all fours, naked except for his ripped loincloth, the most beautiful Tarzan he had ever seen. And he was actually getting fucked in the ass doggy style by the handsome, body-sculpted Italian who had escaped from captivity and overpowered the jungle man.

    Larry knew he must not touch his cock so he stood between Brian and Danny gripping their hands tight as he gazed at the stunning spectacle. As the fuck continued Larry gazed in awe at the upturned face of the defeated Tarzan, a rope round his neck, his handsome chiseled features grimacing with (fake) pain and (very real) bliss, tears flowing down his cheeks, jaw sagging and dripping with drool.

    Seeing the excitement in Larry’s eyes Mario was ready to play out the final act of the drama. “You, boy,” he said sternly to Larry, “You were spying on us all the time. Step forward.”

    Stunned at suddenly being included in the scene, Larry looked questioningly at Mike who was smiling broadly and nodding his encouragement. And so he did as he was told until he was inches from Tarzan’s face. And he almost lost his load when the jungle man flicked out his tongue and licked the head of his stiff cock. Mario said, “I have beaten him, he is on his knees in surrender, and you, boy, will participate in his final degradation. I think you know how.”

    Instinctively Larry inched toward the pleading face as Grady strained forward against the rope round his neck … and Larry’s cock slid easily down the handsome jock’s throat. The boy was now in a world of total fantasy. He was face-fucking this magnificent Tarzan while he watched the Italian’s muscles ripple as he fucked his ass.

    For the first time Larry noticed a trace of a smile on Mario’s face and he found himself fucking Grady’s face in time to Mario’s cock plunging in his ass. And between them, the man whose pictures he had seen everywhere, the new Tarzan, one of the hottest men he had ever seen, was now kneeling between them … getting spit roasted.

    Now Mario broke into a gleaming smile. “He’s beautiful, is he not, amico? So let’s give him what he wants, what he needs. It will be your introduction to the Grady House, one you will not soon forget. I know you are close, and I know our prisoner is close too. And I have been wanting to cum ever since Tarzan swung into the scene. So, Larry, shall we?”

    “Yes please, sir.” Mario grabbed Grady’s hips, Larry grasped his face … and they pounded him from both ends. The boy looked down at the tear stained face, at the sparkling eyes, then raised his eyes to the handsome, smiling Italian … and no force on earth could prevent the dazzled boy from releasing his load. His heart pounded, his breath heaved and he yelled, “Oh … I can’t stop it … I gotta cum … yeah, oh fuck … fuuuck …”

    His cock exploded in Tarzan’s mouth while Mario shouted joyfully, thrust his cock in deep one last time and erupted in his lover’s ass. The naked prisoner’s magnificent body bucked like a tamed stallion and he blasted jets of semen onto the grass …. onto the jungle floor as Larry still imagined it. Suddenly Grady pulled back off Larry’s cock which still spurted jizz, this time slashing into the jungle man’s sculpted face.

    When all three men were drained Mario pulled out and stood up, beaming at the stunned Larry. He hooked his foot under Grady’s stomach and flipped him over onto his back on the ground. The closing shot of the movie was of the muscular Tarzan lying defeated, spread-eagled on the jungle floor, face streaked with tears and semen, cum oozing out of his ass and down his legs … beaten, humiliated, degraded … and fucked senseless.

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

    It was as if the director had shouted “Cut!” to the enthusiastic cheers and applause of those watching. His eyes still closed, Grady’s mouth opened with a gleaming smile. Then he opened his eyes and gazed loving up at Mario who reached down, grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet and into his arms. Ignoring Larry’s cum on his lover’s face Mario kissed him passionately, and then they both turned to look at Larry, still stunned and blushing to be the sudden focus of their attention.

    “So, young Larry,” Grady grinned, “welcome to the Grady House. We hope it was a welcome you’ll remember for a long time.”

    “I’ll never forget it, sir,” Larry said shyly. “It was like being in a movie.”

    “That was the general idea,” Grady laughed. “Mario and me are pretty good at that, don’t you think?”

    “We should be,” Mario smiled. “We get enough practice.”

    “If you gentlemen will excuse me,” Grady said, “I think I need another plunge in the pool, wash off all these bodily fluids.”

    He made another dramatic dive and the crowd cheered as his shredded loincloth came off and floated to the surface. Grady swam back to it and raised it in the air, spinning it round on his finger. “Plenty more where this came from. Studio wardrobe has dozens of them – they get pretty beat up in the action scenes. Here, Larry, this one’s for you for being such a good sport. He hurled it from the pool and Larry caught it.

    Larry’s eyes glowed as he looked at Mike who smiled back. He was pleased to see Larry having such a great time, although something still nagged at the back of his mind. He would bring it up when they were alone again.

    Danny said, “Gotta get back to the kitchen and check on lunch. Should be ready in a few minutes. Brian, Brandon, can you come and give me a hand?”

    Lunch by the pool was a festive affair, led mostly by the exuberant Grady, as always the life and soul of the party. Larry remembered what Danny had told him earlier: “Don’t be nervous, Grady’s not a bit like a movie star. He’s just one of the guys here.” It was true … he was so natural now that Larry soon forgot about his celebrity and lost all his former shyness.

    As usual Grady was asked a lot of questions about life and work at the studio but he soon turned the conversation away from himself and concentrated on Mike and what Larry could expect in the desert. He had the knack of making Larry even more excited than he already was about his journey out there later that day with Mike.

    The party could have gone on all afternoon except that Mike eventually said, “Guys, I hate to be a party pooper but Larry and I have to make the trek out to the Springs pretty soon. Lot’s to do.”

    “And a new life to start,” Grady smiled and raised his glass. “A toast guys – to Mike and Larry and their new life together. May it be long and loving and full of laughter.”

    The group raised their glasses and chanted, “To Mike and Larry!”

    And so the colorful visit to the Grady House was over except for thanks, goodbyes and best wishes. Mario hugged Larry who said, “Sir, I’ll never forget what we did. I hope … I hope that Mike and me get to visit again sometime.”

    Mario laughed, “Certamente, tesoro. You are, as we say in Italy, il nostro nuovo amico, our new best friend. You will visit often and we will invent new jungle adventures to play out. But now your own adventure begins and I know it will be spettacolare! Ciao, bambino.

    The other boys said their tearful goodbyes, and at last they were off, driving through the gates that closed silently behind them, protecting the private world of Tarzan and his mate.

    There was silence in the truck for the first few minutes, then Mike said, “Well, those guys sure know how to put on a show, don’t they? I er, noticed that glow in your eyes after you got to face-fuck the gorgeous Tarzan. Not surprising but … but it kinda made me wonder a bit …”

    Another awkward pause, then … “I mean, kiddo, you’ve had some real good times with the guys of the tribe, and this one was a real star-filled fantasy. So … OK here goes … Larry are you sure you want to leave all this glamor behind and come and live out in the desert with a stick-in-the mud old fogey like me, old enough to be your dad?”

    Larry turned to him defiantly. “Sir, I wish you would get over all that bullshit. Ooh, sorry, sir.”

    “No that’s fine, kiddo. I want you always to speak out and say what’s on your mind.”

    “OK, sir. Well sure, since I got here I’ve lived fantasies I could never have dreamed of with a bunch of incredible guys, and I’ve loved it. I loved getting fucked by Randy and then the twins, jacking off to Dr. Steve and getting face fucked by Pablo and Darius. I loved fucking Brandon and of course Grady and watching Mario. They’re all terrific guys, I love them all. But I’m not in love with them as I am with you, sir.

    “See, after the life I’ve had so far I’m not looking for ‘glamor’ as you call it and non-stop fucking. I want a life with a man I love and who loves me. I want you, sir. You’re not a stick-in-the-mud and you know it. I tell you, sir, after all the excitement of this afternoon the thing that makes me more excited than anything is sitting in this truck with you and driving out on the 10 Freeway to my new home. It is the 10 Freeway, isn’t it, sir?”

    “Yes it is, kiddo, the road home. Well that was quite a speech there, boy, and I love you for it. OK, so let’s go take our leave of the guys, throw our gear in the truck and head for home.”

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

    The farewells at the tribe’s house were predictably boisterous. The boys were all over Larry with hugs and advice, especially from Eddie. “Don’t forget those blow-job lessons I promised you, dude. Next time you come here, OK? Sure-fire way to keep your man happy.”

    Jamie of course would be seeing Mike and Larry the next day when he came out to the desert with Mark, Jason and Ben. But now he took Larry to his room and went through his clothes. “I know you arrived in L.A. in only the clothes you were wearing so I’d like to offer you some of mine. Mark keeps buying me new things all the time so I’d like to pass some of my stuff on to you. Take your pick, buddy.”

    Larry did so gratefully and Jamie said, “And over the weekend we’ll find some time together to talk. You and me have got a lot of old stuff from the past to bury once and for all. I’m real glad the way things turned out for you, dude. If you are even half as happy with Mike as I am with Mark, you’re in for a great life.”

    They hugged, then Larry turned to Randy and Bob. Randy said, “Way to go, kid, looks like you really turned your life around. Take care of my old buddy Mike and be a good boy. Anyone gives you a hard time, just give me a holler and I’ll come out and take care of them – and you know what I mean,” he grinned

    Bob said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “And any time you feel confused or troubled, you just give me a call and we’ll sort it out. It’ll be just between you and me, OK?” Bob kissed him on the lips and Larry held on to him for long seconds.

    By this time Larry had tears in his eyes. Only a week ago he had arrived here a lost boy, alone in the world, bitter and scared. And now he was leaving with a man he was sure he loved, leaving behind a group of friends who had embraced him and restored his self-esteem. Then Mike was tugging at his elbow. “Time to hit the road, boy. Time to go home.”

    As they drove away Larry looked in the rear-view mirror at the group of men and boys waving goodbye. Then he turned his eyes forward and gazed at the road ahead. He knew he was leaving one life behind and starting down this road to a whole new one. Mike knew this too and asked, “You nervous kid?”

    “No, sir,” Larry said confidently. “I’m excited. Why – are you nervous, sir?”

    Mike chuckled, “Larry, one thing you’ll find out is that older guys like me don’t have the confidence of youth like you. We worry about things, all the things that can go wrong, as they sometimes have in the past. That’s one thing I love about you, your optimism and faith in the future.”

    “But the thing is, sir, I’m confident ‘cos I know I’m right. It just feels right. So stop worrying. I have enough confidence for both of us.” Larry reached over and rested his hand on Mike’s thigh, and it stayed there for the next two hours until they swung off the freeway onto Highway 111, the turnoff to Palm Springs.

    At first it was desert scrub to the left and the San Jacinto Mountains to the right but a few minutes later when they approached Palm Springs Larry stared with the wide-eyed wonder of a child. “Wow, it’s so green … I mean all the lawns and trees. I thought it was gonna be all sand.

    Mike loved the boy’s wonderment. “Well that’s the ‘Springs’ part, see. Kind of like an oasis, which it is to a lot of visitors. But we’re not visiting – we’re gonna live here, kiddo, year round.”

    “Yes we are!” beamed Larry, his eyes sparkling. They drove through the busy center of Palm Springs and on to Cathedral City which, despite its grand name, was the Springs’ grittier sister, once just light industry and warehouses but recently spruced up. And it was in one of the upscale residential areas that they finally pulled up to Mike’s house.

    Mike cut the engine, turned and looked at Larry and heaved a big sigh. “Here we are kiddo … home.” Tears brimmed in Larry’s eyes as he leaned over and kissed Mike. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it, not for a second, I promise.”

    Mike wiped the tears from Larry’s face and grinned, “So, don’t let’s sit here all day. Come and get a look at your new home.” Together they went to the front door and Mike handed the key to Larry. “Here, you do it, kid. And there’s a spare key inside for you.” Larry unlocked the double doors, gripped Mike’s arm and they walked inside.

    “Wow, it’s a big house, sir, bigger than I expected. It’s gorgeous.”

    “It’s the house that the bar built,” Mike chuckled. “You can make a good chunk of change owning a bar for years, if you run it right. Let me show you around.” They went through the living room, dining room, expansive kitchen, then on to the master bedroom with its big California king bed and a view of the grounds.

    “This is great, sir,” Larry said, his cock stiffening in his shorts as he gazed at the bed.

    “There are three other bedrooms for guests … well, only two now ‘cos the biggest one will be yours. Here, come and see.” He showed Larry into a large comfortable room that also had a king-size bed and a view of the grounds.

    “Wow,” Larry said, but with noticeably less enthusiasm. Mike picked up on his tone and asked, “Anything wrong, kid?”

    “No, sir, it’s great. Except … sir, I … I thought we would be sleeping together.”

    Mike laughed, “Oh, is that all? Well of course we’ll sleep together. But you’ve gotta have your own room, boy, your own space. I’ll help you furnish it the way you want and it’ll be your own private refuge from the world. There’ll be lots of times you’ll wanna be alone, to do your own thing, entertain friends, whatever. See there’s a whole art to two guys living together. Mustn’t crowd each other. Believe me, sometimes we’ll get on each other’s nerves but a few hours apart will take care of that.”

    “I guess I got a lot to learn eh, sir?” Larry smiled mischievously. “That’s why I keep you around.”

    “Fuck you, boy,” Mike grinned, “watch that mouth. Come and see the grounds.” They went outside and again Larry was amazed. It’s so big, sir – lawns, palm trees, old shade trees. And that pool is great.”

    “Yeah, and you know what? When we were at the Grady House earlier and I watched Grady do that dramatic Tarzan dive, you know what I flashed on? My own boy diving into my own pool … this pool.”

    “Well we can soon take care of that, sir.” Without a hint of modesty Larry kicked off his sneakers, pulled off his T-shirt and dropped his shorts. Smiling brightly he stood on the edge of the pool butt naked and said, “I can’t compete with Tarzan, sir, but I can dive. Watch this.” He raised his arms and did a perfect swan dive into the pool. When he broke the surface he swam a series of strong laps.

    As Mike looked down at him he had a sudden vision of what it was going to be like to live with this lively, active young man, and his heart warmed. More than that, as he watched the rippling back cut through the water and saw the flexing ass cheeks just below the surface, Mike’s cock stiffened under his jeans. It was a long time since he had a spontaneous erection like this and he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted – for the first time in many years.

    Larry stopped swimming, dived down deep and shot to the surface laughing with joy, water streaming down his face. “Hey, what’s that?” he shouted looking up at Mike and the bulge in his jeans. “You’ve got a hard-on, sir. Did I do that? Did you get that watching me?”

    He pulled himself out of the water and threw his arms round Mike. “I knew it,” the boy laughed. “I knew I could give you a boner. Hey, what say we go indoors and christen the bedroom? You know, like they say, start as we mean to go on.”

    Mike pulled away a little. “Hey, hey, take it easy, kiddo. You’re making me all wet.”

    “Who cares? You’re gonna take your clothes off anyway.” Larry noticed Mike’s hesitation. “Unless this is that stick-in-the-mud guy you warned me about. Come on, sir, it’ll be fun.”

    There was that word again. Mike was far from sure he was ready for Larry’s kind of fun but he did not want to prick his balloon and damper his enthusiasm so he allowed himself to be pulled back to the house and into the master bedroom. “OK if I pull the sheets back, sir?” Larry asked, his eyes dancing.

    “I guess … I …”

    “I’ll take that as a yes, sir,” Larry laughed and yanked back the bedclothes. He grabbed a towel from the nightstand, patted himself dry and launched himself onto the bed, his naked body bouncing and ending up on his back grinning playfully up at Mike. He stretched his arms out and said, “Here I am, sir, your brand new boy – and I’m all yours.”

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

    Mike was captivated, turned on … and nervous as hell, all at the same time. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Larry’s chest. “Larry, I’m scared is all.”

    “No, that can’t be all … you can’t just leave it there, sir. Earlier today you told me you always want me to speak out and say what’s on my mind. Well that cuts both ways. Don’t you think a guy who loves another guy should always tell him the truth?”

    Mike sighed and smiled down at him. “OK, kid, you’re right. So here’s the deal. It’s that age difference thing again. I mean, you get a hard-on just looking at a bed … look at you, you’re rock solid right now. Me, I’m lucky if I get a woody even when I’m beating my meat watching porn. Did you know a guy can cum without getting hard, though it don’t feel so great?

    “You wanna know the truth, kid? When I was watching you swimming bare-assed in the pool I knew I wanted to fuck that ass but knew I couldn’t. I mean, I’d be so nervous I’d never be able to get it up. I haven’t fucked a guy for over two years … ever since Ted …” His eyes misted over as they always did whenever he mentioned his deceased former lover.

    “But sir,” Larry persisted. “That’s the whole point … that’s why I’m here. That’s the deal … I get to learn stuff from you and you get to feel sexy again because of me. I mean I made you cum when I sucked you off and when I fucked you. This is just the next step.” Larry was on a roll.

    “See, I know all about it ‘cos when I was getting therapy from Doctor Steve he mentioned that some guys get what he called performance anxiety – not that the doc himself has to worry about that I can tell you. Sure, I’m dying to get fucked by you, but so what if it don’t work the first time and you can’t get it up? I don’t care. I love you, sir. We can have fun either way.”

    “Course,” Mike shrugged, “I know a lot of guys take pills to make their dick hard …”

    “Nah, I don’t want you popping pills every time we have sex. You don’t need it … you got me!’ Larry laughed. “I’m better than any stupid pill … more reliable too … 100 percent guarantee.”

    Larry’s boundless youthful enthusiasm was breaking down Mike’s reticence that had built up over the years, and his ‘who cares?’ attitude was having an effect on him. Larry smiled, “Maybe, like you say, you haven’t had proper sex for years, but I’ve had enough sex just in the past week to make up for that, and I’ve learned a thing or two – or three – along the way. The twins taught me that the first thing we’re gonna need is a tub of lube. You got some of that, don’t you, sir?”

    “I, er, I dunno. I think there’s some old stuff around.” Mike rummaged in the bottom draw of a chest and pulled out a jar of lube he had long since buried.

    “Bingo!” Larry laughed. “Now you have to take your clothes off.”

    “Shit,” Mike grumbled, “it’s years since I undressed in front of a guy who …”

    “Stop living in the past, sir. This is now … this is me, and I’m your future, so get used to it.”

    Reluctantly Mike kicked off his shoes, dropped his jeans, pulled off his shirt and stood in naked embarrassment before the boy. But his cock was semi-erect. “Hey, that’s a good sign, sir. You know, you have a really good body …”

    “… for a man my age,” Mike cut in.

    “That’s not what I was gonna say. Turns me on, that chunky-hunky look – big shoulders, firm pecs, hairy chest. So let me give you a little help firming up that dick.” Larry turned over on his stomach and flexed his ass cheeks repeatedly. Mike found the act amusing as well as sexy … but it worked.

    It wasn’t so much the sight of the cute young ass as the boy’s easy-going banter that made Mike’s dick hard. This was not just a boy lying passively on the bed waiting to get fucked. Larry was not hung up on the sex act itself like so many guys were. He was a kid having fun, whatever form that took, and if the sex didn’t work this time, so what? And that laid-back attitude reduced Mike’s anxiety – and increased his hard-on.

    “OK, kid, let’s give it a try,” he said. “But I’m warning you, don’t get your hopes up. I’ll probably lose my …”

    “Oh, sir, knock it off, please. Did you know you’re whining? It’s getting on my nerves. Just shut up and fuck, sir.”

    Mike was stunned to hear the boy speaking to him like that … but it did the trick. He had to reassert his authority, show the boy who’s boss, so he dipped his finger in the jar and lubed his cock. “Fuck you, kid. You don’t get to mouth off to me like that. Turn the fuck over, boy.”

    Larry turned over onto his back, his eyes gleaming, excited by Mike’s authoritarian growl. He put his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back, offering his ass to Mike for the first time. Mike knelt on the bed behind him, pushed a greasy finger in his butt, and felt himself turned on by the soft, velvet touch of the young ass.

    Then came the moment of truth, where anxiety peaked and threatened his libido. As Larry pulled his legs back farther Mike reached up, grabbed his ankles and pressed the head of his cock against his hole. But old neuroses die hard – they have a memory of their own – and Mike felt a wave of insecurity sweep through him.

    But Larry chose that moment to flash a sexy smile and said in a seductive tone. “Sir, all kidding aside, make me your boy. Fuck your boy, sir. I wanna be your boy so bad.” Then he giggled. “No pressure or anything.”

    It was the impish grin that did it. Mike loved this crazy boy … his boy … and he wanted to fuck him. Forget everything else … it was bullshit. This is all that mattered. He eased his hips forward and felt his cock entering his boy’s ass, saw his eyes open wide and brim with tears. Mike had not felt a sensation this intense in years, his cock hadn’t been this hard in years. He had not had a lover for years … but he did now.

    “Oh,” Larry gasped. “That’s it … you’re inside me, sir … it feels so good … I knew it would feel this good. Can I touch my dick, sir?”

    “As long as you don’t shoot, kiddo. I want this to last.” Mike stared down at the enraptured boy, at his face rolling from side to side, moaning in ecstasy. And, as he watched, the face became more and more beautiful until it seemed to glow. All Mike’s fears, all the aches and sorrows of the past, they all faded from memory, banished by simple love for this boy.’’

    Larry smiled up at Mike rising and falling above him. He reached up and ran his fingers through the hair on Mike’s chest while stroking his own cock with the other hand. As he got used to the cock moving deep in his ass he had the strange feeling this was not new. It was as if they had done this before, they had been lovers before. And best of all, Larry knew they would do this as lovers again and again.

    They settled into a long, loving fuck, and when the first flush of euphoria abated, their passion mellowed and made room for the fun Larry had predicted. “You see, sir? Once you do it it’s like riding a bike … you never forget and you never fall off.”

    “You better watch that mouth of yours kid or I’ll give you one of those brutal Randy fucks that’ll make your head spin.”

    “I love it when you get fierce, sir.”

    Mike laughed. “God, I love you, kid. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up, though.” On Larry’s look of alarm he chuckled again. “I don’t mean keep my dick up. Hell, I think I’ll have a boner all my life with you around. I meant keep this up without busting my load. I’m real close all the time. You wanna feel your old man’s jizz in your ass, boy?”

    “Duh, what do you think, sir? See, I’ve stopped beating my meat. Next time I touch my dick it’s gonna explode.”

    “OK then, let’s do it.” Suddenly the playful teasing stopped and their true passion took over. The joking had held it at bay but now they allowed their sense of this pivotal moment in their lives to consume their minds and bodies and bring them to the climax that had, in truth, been building all week.

    “Oh, man, this feels fucking great,” Mike moaned. “I’m crazy about you, kid … your ass feels so … I’m gonna cum inside you, Larry … inside my boy. Here it comes … fuck yeah … here it fucking comes, boy … aaagh!”

    The explosive orgasm shook his whole body. It was like nothing he had ever felt, a world away from his fumbling jerkoffs of the last few years. And as Larry looked up at his spasming body and euphoric face he saw a man rejuvenated, a man who loved him, who was pouring his sperm inside him.

    The boy had only to touch his own cock to feel his juice surge from his balls, race through his cock and erupt in a shower of semen that rose high and splashed into the hair on Mike’s chest.

    “I love you, sir,” he yelled, reaching up and running his fingers through the cum-soaked hair. And when the eruption finally subsided Larry held his arms straight up and pleaded, “Hold me, sir. Please … I wanna feel you …”

    Mike fell on him and felt the boy’s arms fold round him. And that’s how they lay for a long time – hugging, kissing, coming to terms with what had just happened and, more importantly, what they knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, would be their future for as far as the eye could see.

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

    They lay on the bed for a long time, mostly in silence, until Mike said, “You know what you’ve done, kid. You’ve made me feel young again. Shit damn, my dick got hard and stayed hard and I fucked like a jackrabbit. Never thought that would happen again.”

    “Well now that it has, sir, how about I race you to the pool?” Larry wriggled out from under him, leapt off the bed and pulled Mike after him. Like two good buddies who had just fucked for the first time they raced out to the pool and dived in, horsing around, splashing, wrestling, until they were exhausted and pulled themselves out. They slumped into chairs at a poolside table laughing like kids, their breath heaving, eyes shining.

    The most striking effect of all this was that their age-difference had disappeared. It had been such a stumbling block, especially for Mike, but now faded into total insignificance. Mike brought beers from the house and they sat and talked, mostly about the immediate future. The distant future they took for granted – they would spend it together, of course – but for right now they had the excitement of making plans for the weekend.

    “You’ll be the host too, Larry, so you’ll help me get ready for our guests. You can decide which guestroom to give to Mark and Jamie, and which one’s for Jason and Ben. Should be an interesting weekend. I mean, you know Mark and Jamie well, of course, and you worked with young Ben on the construction site. But his master Jason you don’t know hardly at all.”

    “No, sir, but the twins showed me the fireman’s calendar they keep under the bed, like most of the boys do, they said. Jason’s on the August page and that’s the hottest page of all by far. The twins say all the boys keep the calendar open at that page no matter what month it is, and it gets real sticky with jizz.

    Mike chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a gorgeous man alright, and he knows how to flaunt it too, especially in front of the mirror. You know, I see a lot of narcissistic guys in my bar, leather studs preening like they’re god’s gift to the world, and it usually puts me off. But with Jason it’s fun – he has a great sense of humor, doesn’t take any of it real serious. He says, hey, if you’ve got it flaunt it, and none of the other guys mind … they get off on it.

    “Actually, Mark and Jason know each other real well ‘cos they’re in the same line of work, one being a cop and the other a fireman. There’s even a great story of once when they were on a training exercise together and during one of their breaks they went off alone with each other into some distant bushes. In their uniforms they were all hot and sweaty from the training and horny as hell so … well you do the math, kid.”

    “Sir, that sounds really hot. You think they’ll tangle again while they’re out here and maybe we’ll get to watch?”

    “Here’s hoping, kid,” Mike grinned, clinking beer bottles with Larry. “If Jason has his way they will. Like I said, the man loves an audience.” He took a swig of beer. “Anything special you’re looking forward to, kiddo?”

    “Apart from sharing a bed with you, sir, and getting fucked again?” Larry grinned roguishly. Then he got more serious. “Well, there is one thing I’m looking forward to, but it scares me a bit. That’s getting to know Jamie better. I don’t know how that’s gonna work, though. ‘Course, you know about our past when we were running wild as a pair of skinheads and didn’t give a shit about anyone. That was a long time ago and I hadn’t seen Jamie since, not until I pitched up at the house a week ago.

    “See, we had a weird kind of buddy relationship back then. I mean, we stuck together for survival more than anything else, but we used to argue a lot. I was really the wild one, he was more savvy than me. So in a way it wasn’t surprising that, as things turned out after we crashed the house that first time, Jamie was the one who ended up with Mark and I went back to St. Louis, mostly to protect my mom from my dad.”

    He paused, unsettled by the memory of those times. “But here’s the weird part, sir. Back then Jamie and me used to screw girls sometimes, but I sometimes had the feeling Jamie only did it to impress me. And maybe I was doing the same thing. And now that I know about … you know, sex and everything … looking back I wonder if we … we …”

    “… you were sexually attracted to each other? Well, could be. But whatever it was, it’s something you should clear up with Jamie. You can’t have that hanging over you if you two wanna be good buddies from now on. And … er … I don’t have to tell you again, kiddo. Whatever you wind up doing with Jamie, or any of the others, is fine with me. Just as long as you end up in bed with me, you and that cute ass of yours.”

    “Thank you, sir. I gotta say, in the last few days Jamie’s been real friendly and generous to me – even gave me a bunch of his clothes. But as for the rest … just have to see what happens.”

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

    There was one other thing that had to happen before Mike and Larry spent their first night together in their new home.

    “I have to run over to my bar for a while,” Mike said. “While I’ve been away my relief bartender Clay has been filling in for me. He appreciates the extra money but he needs a short break now I’m back. So I planned to go over there for a couple of hours to work the late afternoon beer bust, then he’ll come back for the evening shift. Friday beer bust is not too busy – not like Saturday and Sunday, so … well, I was thinking you might like to come with me.”

    “Try keeping me away, sir,” Larry grinned. “And on the way home we’ll go grocery shopping and when we come back I’ll cook dinner for you. I used to cook for my mom, and last week the twins gave me lessons, so I think I can do it. And then we’ll get the house ready for the guys and … maybe have an early night?”

    Mike was impressed and flashed a big smile. “Well, kiddo, you seem to have everything all planned out. What am I supposed to do? Just sit back and be pampered?”

    “Pretty much, sir. You’ve got a boy now … you’ve got me.”

    They went inside to get dressed for the bar. Larry had jeans and boots and was going to wear a loose gray T-shirt Jamie had given him. But Mike rummaged in the closet and came back with a sleeveless black muscle T. “Here, try this, boy. My lover Ted used to wear it.”

    Surprised by this generous gesture and realizing how much it meant to Mike, Larry felt honored and pulled the shirt on. Mike smiled at him. “Perfect. Looks hot, kid. Those gym sessions with Randy sure paid off. You look exactly the part for my boy, you’ll be a big hit at the bar.”

    Larry realized that Mike would be showing him off to his bar buddies so he was a bit nervous as he followed him into to bar. Mike was greeted with a raucous welcome from the customers but before he took over from Clay he waved for silence.

    “Guys, it’s great to be back … especially ‘cos I have a surprise. See, old Mike is in love. Yup, I’ve got a new boy. I brought him back from L.A. and he’s gonna live with me. I want you to give him a big welcome, guys, so please give it up … for Larry.”

    The cheers were deafening, with whistles, applause and shouts of “Way to go, Mike,” and “It’s about time, dude.” They crowded round an overwhelmed Larry with handshakes, fist bumps and high fives. When the din died down a bit Mike shouted, “For the next ten minutes, guys, drinks are on the house!”

    More cheers and they crowded round the bar. Clay grinned, “Congratulations, boss. Never thought I’d see the day. Hey, I’ll stick around for the next fifteen minutes help you serve this crowd, then I’ll be back in a couple hours so you can get home with your boy.”

    “Thanks, Clay. By the way, where’s Javier?” Mike asked looking round for the young bar-back who was supposed to be clearing up around the bar.

    “Ah, called in with a sore throat. Only thing making that kid’s throat sore is the dick shoved down it. Guy’s a bit flaky if you ask me.”

    “Don’t worry, sir,” said Larry who had been listening. “I can take care of that.” He walked off and threaded his way through the customers picking up bottles as he went. He brought a bunch back behind the bar, tossed them in the bin and grinned at Mike. “Might as well start as we mean to go on, sir.” And he was off again, accepting the crowd’s greetings and congratulations as he went to work.

    Busy as he was serving drinks, Mike glimpsed Larry through the crowed and from across the room the boy flashed a smile. ‘As we mean to go on,’ Mike grinned to himself. Amen to that. So they were off to the races, he thought, and the first hurdle was the coming weekend with their four guests – the cop and his blond surfer-boy, the fireman and his shy young gypsy. So many possibilities – Mark and Jason, maybe … Jamie and Larry? Whatever …

    Mike smiled in anticipation. His new life with Larry had begun.

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

    TO BE CONTINUED in “A Trial Of Strength” – Chapter 351

     


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  • An alternative Domination

    An Alternative Domination.

    Slave was dressed as a whore and she was to stand by the door as Master let his guests in. They all arrived at 8pm some brought their own slaves but that was irrelevant to slave and obviously Master as he didn’t mention them in the numbers expected to arrive. They were all female slaves though. Two of the women dominatrix’s were alone and four of the Master’s were alone but the others had one slave or in two cases they had two slaves.

    Master opened the proceedings by having the doms all sit down and view slave. First of all she was dressed then she had to strip in front of them all. There were a few appreciative whistles some from the Dominatrix’s and from a couple of the Masters. As you can see I have had to punish this slave today as she is still in training and needs reminding of her place. You know what she does as you have seen her profile and what she offers by way of service. You have all expressed an interest in some or all of the activities, please I am going to show you all the video I made of her punishment today and the subsequent activities to prove her worth. Slave hid her surprise but it explained much. They all watched the video and were suitably impressed with slave’s performance especially as her Master said she still had to be further trained.

    The offer is I am putting her up for hire for either a weekend or a week where you can use her with the proviso that you adhere to the conditions I sent out to you when I put her up on offer. Tonight I put her up for hire for two hours tonight at a reduced rate so the winner can try her out but the others can put in bids for her use this coming weekend. If you want to bid for tonight’s trial can you write down your offer and I will consult the bids. If you want to bid for the weekend then please state the period and the offer.

    “If we are not successful to win either of the bids are you saying she is up for hire at other times?”

    “Yes she can be made available at other times but so everyone knows what was the winning figure which they can use to hire her out for future activieties I will announce the winning bid and who won. Is that agreeable to everyone?”

    They all nodded and wrote down on their pads a figure and what it was for. Slave was made to collect the paper offers and bring them in. A few of the Doms tried to manhandle her and feel her up as she moved about the room. Master looked at the bids and picked out two. First of all for the trial of two hours tonight the winner is Mistress Domina for a figure of £300. The second for a weekend period goes to Mistress Domina for a figure of £5000. One dominant was angry and said that it was unfair that she was going to the same person both times. Master replied that highest bidder won. The angry dom then asked can we bid for her on another time. He replied yes but we need to consult the calendar and what you want to do with her. Some of the doms said they weren’t interested at that price and left. The angry Dom then asked can I pay £5000 for the following weekend? Master considered this for a second and said

    “Alright but any sex must be safe and I want to hear what you want her for.”

    “Just want to use her holes for sex and maybe a little pain just for the hell of it. I don’t want to use her for a toilet.” Replied the angry Dom and gave an evil smile.

    Master was a little put out that no one else was interested finding the prices too high but most of the others had slaves of their own already so that probably was the real reason. Why pay when you have it for free. Angry Dom went further in his questions.

    “How much would you consider selling her on a permanent basis?”

    Master looked at him and shook his head.

    “I went a long way when I saw this slave’s advertisement and it took time to acquire her and get her trained up to the current level. I haven’t found a slave that can take on my monster and satisfy me thoroughly like she does so NO she is not for sale only the occasional hire out to considerate Doms.”

    Angry Dom just smiled and gave up and walked out.

    “So can I take her downstairs to get to know her and plan my forthcoming weekend?” Asked Mistress Domina.

    Without waiting she led slave by the hand down to the cellar. In the cellar slave was tied to the chains that had held her in the punishment session. She was naked and exposed to this woman who dressed in leathers looked rather stunningly beautiful even to a gay like slave really was. However what slave had kept to herself was that she was more complicated than that. She had been hetero but got a thrill doing degrading acts and one of the most degrading was to be the sex toy of a man. Added that to her speciality act then she got her thrills from performing acts of thorough degradation and not any sexual act of release which after the operation was now impossible.

    Mistress came up behind slave and gently ran her soft hands over slaves back and the marks on it from the past and from today’s session. It made slave shiver and she actually enjoyed the sensation which was a soft caress. Mistress gently caressed slaves bum cheeks as well. She came round and then softly brushed her lips onto slave’s lips and then held this embrace for a bit longer then grabbed slave’s head in her two hands and kissed her passionately and probed slave’s mouth with her tongue. She pulled out suddenly and looked at slave squarely in the face.

    “Do you have false teeth?”

    Slave nodded.

    “Why?”

    “To make my mouth prick friendly Mistress.”

    “Ah the bastards these men are brutes but that gives me opportunities.”

    She smiled then softly caressed slave’s breasts and down her belly then slowly fingered slave’s pussy. She stopped suddenly and again looked at slave.

    “You are not what you seem my dear are you?”

    “No Mistress, Master has modified me to be more able to satisfy his needs in more ways than a gay male could and yet still inside be a male.”

    “Were you happy with this?”

    “It has been shown to me that this was the completion of what I said in my advertisement to be the subject of a cruel brutal Master who wanted to use me for his sexual and sadistic desires.”

    “I see you are quite a man. Normally I would not be interested in dominating a man but since you have gone this far to be a woman I see no harm in treating you as such this weekend and you present me with some wonderful possibilities. I bet the men have no idea what is really meant by IBS and this weekend I will prepare myself for you and you will learn how a woman does it. What do you like to eat?”

    “Chicken Mistress when I get fed with proper food that is.”

    “Chicken it is a nice curry flavour I think and some flavoured white wine. I can do that for you my dear. Now you have such lovely breasts that I am now going to have to work on for the rest of these two hours.”

    She nipped each nipple between her fingers and it made my eyes smart. She then produced a small cat like whip and proceeded to whip each breast in turn making them burn and redden with the constant attention of the whip. It was painful and slave wriggled but to no avail. Mistress had a cruel smile on her face and said’

    “I will be doing this a lot and working on your pain levels this weekend as well. Never had such a she male to play with before. You are quite remarkable slave.”

    When her two hours were up she left without a word being said.

    “Watching the two of you play has made me quite randy so we are going to have to play now but in bed upstairs.” His Master said.

    He led slave upstairs quickly and got into bed.

    “Now go to work on my prick with your mouth. I can feel a busy night for you tonight and all your holes will be used by me I feel”.

    Slave softly handled Master’s prick and it was obvious it needed no build up but she wanted to enjoy this one as it was for the Master has had fallen in love with. She lick the tip with the rough part of her tongue then with long slow licks she licked the head of this massive prick. Master groaned in pleasure and lust.

    “You are so asking for a fucking with that Bitch.”

    She continued for a few more licks then slowly enveloped the shaft sucking in her cheeks so they touched and caressed the prick then she continued to swallow and swallowed in the huge fat shaft and deep throated the prick. Her lips touched his body at the end of the shaft and she tried to give it a peck before rising back up the shaft as she cleared her throat she exhaled and inhaled back on the downward motion. She did this slowly and leisurely relishing the groans of sheer pleasure that escaped Masters throat. An endless time later Master exploded into her mouth and she stopped to let it come out then she swallowed it down and licked the head to clean him up relishing in the bitter gooey fluid.

    “That’s the best yet, Bitch”

    Master pulled slave up and turned her round and sat up so slave was over Master’s knees and proceeded to spank her in a curiously erotic way to induce mild pain and maximum noise. Slave could feel that already Master was becoming thrilled by the mild application of pain on her welted bum. He twisted her around and slid his enlarging prick into her pussy and rolled them both over and fucked her in the missionary position with his massive fat body pinning slave down. It was over very quickly after the fellatio and they lay together on his bed with him spooning slave and slowly caressing slave’s body. Much like he had this morning. They drifted in and out of sleep when suddenly he got up and through slave to the floor.

    “Bend over the chair and await my foreplay for your bum hole.”

    Slave got up and went over to the chair and bend over the back of the chair which raised her bum cheeks for foreplay. Master got out a black strap from a drawer and proceeded to smack it on slave’s bum. The blows were fast and heavy handed. When the leather hit the fleshy parts there was aloud smack and slave felt these explosions on her already marked bum.

    “Getting some good new welts coming up on that pretty white bum of yours.”

    He dropped the strap to the ground and parted her cheeks with his hands and rammed the prick into her arse and it just kept going up and her arse felt like it was splitting. Slave found it a pleasurable pain as it meant Master was going to satisfy his passion for arses. He rode her for ages and slave saw a clock in a mirror and it looked like he took something like 20 minutes before he exploded into her body.

    The weekend came quickly with the last two days slave was fasted to prepare her. Mistress Domina collected slave Friday evening and took slave to her place with slave sitting in the front beside Mistress.

    “Strip off you won’t need any clothes and I so want to admire your body.”

    Slave obeyed and followed Mistress round her house and into the playroom. It had a mass of equipment that slave had no idea what and how it was used.

    “Have you ever performed cunnilingus before?”

    “No Mistress”

    “Ah well we need to remedy that and teach you how to do it. It won’t be a hardship for me so it will have to be done many times this weekend”

    She led slave to her bed room and stripped off her body gripping leather suit. She had raven black long hair and was a very curvy but not fat figure and had a face that anyone would consider beautiful no matter what your inclination. She sat down on the bed and fell back on it.

    Kneel down between my legs and put your mouth in line with my pussy. No time like the present to start your education.” She let out a little laugh that slave found endearing. In her early days before the advertisement slave had fantasized many times about a dominant woman forcing her to lick the dominant to orgasm, however, this would be the first time she actually would be doing it in real life. In slave fantasies, she was an expert at using her tongue to please a woman, however, since this was the real world and Mistress was a real woman, she followed Mistress’s instructions and did exactly what she told slave to do with her tongue.

    Mistress taught slave a system of licking the folds of her pussy, starting with the pubic lip on the left, then the pubic lip on the right, then the slippery cleft in between.

    Licking her sex properly meant smooth, slow licks, starting at the bottom, near her asshole and working  way up to the top. Slave had never licked pussy before and was surprised to discover that the juices of Mistress’s pussy tasted almost exactly like butter.

    Mistress began moaning almost from the first lick. Slave took this as a compliment and felt rather proud that she was doing well enough to make mistress moan. The only downside was, the more Mistress moaned the more difficult it was to understand the instructions.

    Eventually she had slave lick the hood away from her swollen clitoris and based on her responses she really liked it when slave did that.

    Finally she had me take her hard, swollen clit in between slave’s gums and suck on it. Slave did exactly as Mistress told slave. Apparently Mistress liked the way slave sucked on her clit. She responded to my efforts with trembling thighs, frantic hissing sounds and bucking hips.

    Mistress’s hips and pelvis bucked so hard that slave’s mouth lost contact with mistress’s pussy a couple of times. After the second time, Mistress grabbed slave’s skull and forced it against her crotch, thus making certain slave’s face and Mistress’s pubic lips would remain connected.

    Mistress’s orgasm was quick, intense and loud.

    “Wonderful. I have been without a slave even one like you for too long. Definitely we will be doing that more this weekend. It is a pity I have to reward you now with pain and lots of it.”

     

    She tied slave up and had her standing like at Master’s cellar. She slowly caressed and felt slave’s body and gently kissed slave on the mouth touching but only just caressing their lips together and slowly licking slave’s lips.

    “There my pretty one. It is hard to believe you were once a man and I almost forget the fact when we kiss and cuddle.”

    “Now first let‘s work on your breasts.”

    She whipped slave’s breasts with her little whip and worked on her for an unknown time. Slave’s breasts were red and some welts had appeared.

    “Now your pussy lips, have to be careful in your case though”

    She expertly whipped and brought slave to near tears with her strokes on her pussy lips. She stopped and went round the back. Slave couldn’t see what was happening. She heard a whip crack then her back exploded as Mistress whipped her back just a few hits. Sometimes the lash would slip right round and hit slave’s nipples.

    “Mmmmm that was nice. I have never whipped a female before as it is against my personal code but you aren’t a proper female so it allowed me to experience what it would be like. Delicious I must say. Have to hire you again just for that.”

    So it went on slave’s not being a proper female allowed Mistress to explore new depths of pain and its application and slave just endured. Hanging up on ropes and dangling while Mistress applied electric cables to slave’s pussy, arse and nipples. Slave didn’t like electricity but Mistress was only applying mild shocks just to slave squirm. Slave was sweating with the applications pain and the stresses of the bondage being applied.

    “ I must say you are doing very well you have been well trained or are an exceptional slave.”

    Slave took the compliment and used it to fight back the pain she was actually in. This was for her Master that she endured she must continue to endure. The rest of the day went like that until late on the evening Mistress announced a change to the routine.

    “Now it is time for your chicken curry would you like that?”

    Slave nodded she was hungry.

    “Right over here and lie down. Mistress then lowered a ring round slave’s head and proceeded to sit on it which brought Mistress’s pussy in line with slave’s mouth.

    “A little wine then the main meal.”

    Slave now knew what she was in for or thought she did. Mistress then peed a small quantity into Slave’s mouth. Then moved so her arsehole lined up with slave’s mouth. Mistresses bum was perfumed and very pleasant.

    “Now lick as you have been told I rather like that idea.”

    Slave probed this new arse hole and actually reveled in its texture and fragrance. Then it happened Her curry flavoured log came down just a small amount and allowed slave to swallow it and then another slave had to gum it a bit then swallowed it down.

    “Can’t have too much of a good thing you know. Some people pay big money for an experience like that you know slave and here you are getting it for free. You are a lucky slave.”

    Slave wasn’t really sure she was all that lucky and didn’t think she would pay to do it. It was something she just had to do to please her Master and whoever he told her to service in this way. Mistress always talked gently to slave never raising her voice and never shouting at slave. She was patient in her teaching and had a very nice way of commanding slave in what Mistress wanted slave to do and how to do it. Slave thought this was just Mistresses way and not like other Mistresses.

    The weekend soon passed in a blur of pain for slave and cunnilingus for Mistress and sessions of just two people lying together.

    “This was a special weekend for me my beautiful slave. I do not know if I can repeat it but I would like to. I wish I could meet a slave like you. Can’t buy you as your Master has made it clear you are not for sale only temporary hire. Of course on a longer term you would see my temper and other moods and maybe it wouldn’t be a sweet a time as we have just shared.”

    Slave felt a fondness for the way Mistress had treated her but she missed feeling Master’s monster in some part of her body. Once home Master rewarded slave with a long slow suck of his master boner of monster prick. Slave relished it. Her tongue played with and tasted the precum oozing out of the tip, licked the head with the course part of her tongue and slowly licked the length of the shaft and then gloriously she sucked it in and swallowed the length down her throat and repeatedly rose and fell down on that shaft, feeling the blood pulsing in its length and then the muscle spasms as it reached climax and fired off Master cum into slave’s mouth as she timed it so it would fill her mouth and taste his spunk and licked clean his prick. It was the degradation she enjoyed and it was what she lived for.

    Then the week passed quickly and it was time for her to spend time with the angry dom. He collected her and put her in the boot. At his place he dragged slave out and roughly manhandled her into his house. He took her to his play room and proceeded to fuck her hard fast and very quickly. He wasn’t a big man just about average slave thought nothing like Master.

    “Better get some sleep I have a rather full weekend for you Bitch. I need the money and I am £5000 down just to get you here. I have booked you out here in this room with that bench for the fuckings on a half hour basis from 8am tomorrow morning until 3am Sunday morning then it stops until 9am Sunday morning then it picks up and stops at 6pm when I have to clean you down and take you back. Some of the bookings are multiples one is for a block booking of three hours for 20 men Bikers all. I reckon by the end of the weekend you will have serviced 100 men numerous times and I will have made after costs £8000 nice little earner.”

    Slave was horrified but powerless to stop her fate. The weekend started as predicted at 8am Saturday morning and slave was roughly handled and fucked throughout the day. They all wore protection as nobody wanted to catch anything some rode her from behind some in doggy position some in missionary none realised she was a male. Some squeezed her tits as they rode her some slapped her arse as they rode her doggy style it all meshed into a continuous haze of sex and slave was just a piece of meat and slave shrunk inside to her mind and shut out what was happening. It was totally different to last weekend. It was also unlike any fate she had imagined in her dreams or nightmares. The Bikers came to her at the end of the day. 1 am Sunday morning they arrived on their bikes and piled in. They saw a tired slave but they had paid and this was an initiation for them in their club so they picked slave up and placed her on the bench and tied her down. They then worked out how three of them at a time could enter her and use her. Slave just had to keep still and they did all the work. Her body ached and throbbed but the pounding continued they all planned to use her in the two hours at least once and using more than one hole for their pleasure. They all wore protection as no one wanted to catch anything from this well used whore. It all went into slave’s head and passed away in her memory as she blanked out the experience. When it was over the angry Dom came in and put a blanket over her slumped body on the floor.

    “Better get some sleep as it starts again 9am and I have a block booking of thirty men tomorrow. Anyway I am too tired to fuck you now so maybe before I take you back we will have a small encounter. Hope you are hungry”

    Slave slept until the Dom came in and got her up to wash up and freshen up before the first punter arrived. The doorbell came and it started at 9am. The last gang bang started at 4pm and the thirty men had all egged each other to do this and had come together as it wasn’t possible to organise such big gang bangs these days. They complained when they saw the object they had to fuck as she was well used and pretty fucked out. The dom came in and said no refunds and make the most of it as it doesn’t happen often. Someone shout they wanted first dibs the next time and angry dom looked at slave and said that could be arranged. Again slave shut it all out and just endured the experience and was treated like meat by them all. There was no pleasure to get from this experience. When it was over they walked out and said she had better be fresher the next time say in two weeks time. Angry dom smiled and said of course. He shut the door behind him and came up to slave. He dragged her over to the wall and had her sit with her back to the wall and just said.

    “Assume the position”

    Slave looked up this hadn’t been part of the agreement but then neither had the whoring out been part of her Master’s hiring out. He slapped her face and turned round and sat on her head and with his hands positioned slave’s head into position.

    “I was going to be easy on you but now I will enjoy it all the more doing this against your will.”

    He slid down and trapped her head and wriggled his arse onto her mouth his weight opening up her mouth. No probing this time as he squeezed out his load into and down her throat. Once he could do no more he got off and went to clean up. Slave just threw it up and waited his wrath.

    “You bitch you will suffer for that!”

    Slave took courage it seeing a clock and replied.

    “If you don’t get me back in fifteen minutes then it will cost you money and Master said it was the weekend’s hire again with no extra time allotted.”

    “Bitch I will get you back and those gang bangs will be for more men wait and see.”

    Slave arrived back at her Master’s house with the angry dom and he demanded a refund as she had not complied with requests. Master looked at her bedraggled state but was angry at her performance. Slave just broke with the rules and told Master just what had happened and how he was planning much worse the next hiring out. Master exploded but not with slave he shouted and shoved the angry dom out the house and said he would never get his hands on slave again. Slave wondered just what would happen when the gang bangers came for the weekend event and found no willing body to fuck and hoped they would use angry dom. Master came back and was very attentive to slave and had her sleep in Master’s bed to rest up with the proviso that her services would be needed by Master in the morning but that was just fine by slave and her hands reached out and fumbled the prick which came to life and she turned round and wriggled down to lick and suck his prick. He burst out laughing.

    “You really are an unsatiable slut aren’t you. Alright suck it for now then I will fuck your arse during the night you slut.”

    With her mouth full of pulsing prick she mumbled,

    “Only for you my beloved Master”

    He never heard her and was enjoying the attentions of his wanton slut. He could be as cruel as he wanted and knew she would just take it and love him. Bloody hell he was a lucky sod and he realised he might be falling in love with this slave.

  • Real personal training

    Note to all: I have combined and edited two recent installments into one story to hopefully make it a better read.

    “You’re a filthy little fuck, aren’t ya?” 

    This is what I heard as I leaned over to grab a drink of water from the fountain near the locker room.

    I turned around to see who this vaguely familiar voice was coming from. I was shocked to see Calvin staring back at me with a shit-eating grin on his face.

    I work our regularly at a small personal training gym. Marcus has been my trainer for the past 5 years. He’s taken me from Dad bod to a fit 50 year old. Calvin is a relatively new trainer at the gym but from the first time I saw him, I’ve had a hard time averting my eyes off him. 

    I’m a white, Italian guy, about 5’8″, 160 solid pounds. Hairy chest and from the waist down. Solid glutes and legs. What I lack in cock, I compensate for with a nice, round ass. Calvin is not the type I have ever been attracted to before. But something about his physique and the way he carries himself had me mesmerized. I’d watch him work alongside his clients, patting them, holding their form and sometimes stretching them after a workout and many times found myself getting ridiculously hard. He has incredible, muscled arms, a chiseled, but not overly big chest, washboard abs and an ass that rocked my world —  high and super firm.

    I don’t think I had ever even beat off thinking about a black guy and here was Calvin literally making me produce so much pre cum which I was often forced me to unstick my dick from from underwear several times during a workout.

    “Shit — I’m busted” I thought to myself while looking back at Calvin with a somewhat confused look on my face, “I’m not sure I’m following ya, bud?” “My name is Calvin,” he said, extending his hand. “I could swear you were undressing me in your mind and imagining a lot of nasty shit…I know that look. I’ve given that look. You got it bad, bro.”

    My mind was in overdrive. Do I finally admit to another guy that I’m hot for him vs. my history of clandestine, relatively anonymous, past encounters with guys? Do I pass it off as a joke — that has was totally mistaken? Calvin seemed too wise for that and looking him in the eye I saw a mixture of sexy and sympathy in his eyes — a signal that made me feel OK revealing the truth. It took all the courage I had to admit that I did indeed imagine (on many occasions) his amazing ass sitting on my face while I licked and sucked on his hole. “It’s alright bro” he said, putting me at ease. “I’m a dirty little fucker too and probably watching you as much as you been watching me. In fact, guys like you are my speciality…all burning and hot on the inside and waiting for someone to have the balls to pull it out of them.” My head was spinning at this point, unsure what to say but my lips look over, spewing words before my brain had a chance to engage. “Guilty as charged” is what came out. Calvin’s perfect-teeth smile only got wider. “My place is about :10 from here…let’s grab a shower and head over.

    I headed into the locker room, trembling as I removed my clothes. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed into the shower expecting company, but I did not see Calvin — I assumed he went back to the gym. As I showered, I practically beat off — it was so hard to keep my hands off my dick, nipples and ass. My body was vibrating in antipication and fear. “What the fuck am I doing?” I said to myself. I stepped out of the shower and straight ahead was Calvin, pulling up his boxer briefs. There must be a special shower for trainers that I was not aware of. It was just enough to give me a glimpse of perhaps the most perfect ass I have ever seen. I also got a good look at the rest of his body which must be about 5% body fat because his abs were incredibly tight and pronounced. He turned, look at me and said “nice swol” referring to my post workout pumped chest. Calvin finished dressing — his jeans-covered ass was a sight — and headed out after quickly giving me directions to his place.

    Still in disbelief, I got dressed, dried my hair and without a rational thought in my mind, drove to the address Calvin gave me.

    My mind was racing between nervousness, excitement and apprehension as I drove the 10 minutes to the address Calvin gave me. While he worked at the gym I regularly attended, I really knew nothing about Calvin. In the end, my below-the-waist brain easily won over the one in my head.

    Calvin quickly answered the door after I knocked. He was dressed as he had been at the gym — workout shorts and a tank but he was barefoot, exposing his perfect pair of size 12’s. “I gave you about a 50/50 chance of showing up” Calvin said as he closed the door behind me. I was worried you were one of those guys who get all hot and talk a good game but when it comes time to follow through, ya flake.” “I gotta say, I’m so glad you didn’t” flashing a wicked, smile as he said it.

    At this point, I was still nervous and really had no idea what to expect. How would things get started? Was he going to make a move or was I? Was he really just fucking with me and this was all a big joke? He invited me to join him at his kitchen table where we proceeded to talk. I got a bit more on his background, education, what got him into training (he was always overweight until he got to college). He said he rarely picks up guys in the gym where he works, but saw something different with me. “I first noticed you when you were doing squats. You went really deep, which was impressive given the weight you had on your shoulders…very quickly my mind jumped to your powerful glutes and hamstrings lowering down on my cock. I imagined how tight you probably were and given your strength, how well you could control your muscles around my cock. I became a little obsessed which is when I started noticing your stares. It was subtle at first, but I watched you in the mirror and sure enough, your eyes followed my ass’s every move.” 

    “Definitely guilty, Bud” I said. I first could not look away from your ass then it was your arms and finally just your swagger got me” I admitted to him. “Do you think anyone else at the gym has noticed?” I asked. “Not sure — I really don’t know the others well enough to talk about stuff like that.”

    There was a sort of uncomfortable pause in the conversation, so I said “so now what?” With that, he leaned toward me and abruptly started kissing me, first lightly and then very intensly on the lips. His mouth was all over mine and his lips were surprisingly soft. We were literally sucking face. We both stood up, still locked in a forceful kiss and he proceeded to grab my ass and pull me tightly into him so our crotches were pressed against each other. He pressed his cock into mine and I could tell it was both sizable and hard as was mine (at least the hard part). he was really grinding when I let out a slight moan…I was literally in ecstasy from the grind. we broke our kiss long enough for him to say “bro, I’m gonna make you feel parts of your body you didn’t know even existed.” Even at this point, he already had.

    Calvin pulled off my shirt and ran his hand through my chest hair, kissing my neck, down across my nipples and around the top of my pants, repeating several times. He turned me around kissing the back of my neck, down my spine and around the top of my crack. “Jesus, you smell good” he said as he started unbuttoning my pants. “Step out of those and lets get real comfortable.” So here I was, totally naked, exposed and vulnerable in front of this guy. It was freeing, exciting and humiliating (not his intent) all at the same time. He looked me over with his first touch on my ass, kneeding it over and over in his rough hands. He’d alternate between squeezing each half and spreading it apart with my hole being there on display. Next he bent me over the table and proceeding to feast on my hole. It was wet, lots of tongue rimming and fucking, going deep and staying at the surface. This was the most most amazing sensation I have ever felt (next to an orgasm). Calvin was not shy around my ass, taking it as his own meal. “This bad boy is gonna be ready for my cock pretty soon. It’s getting all loosened up.” 

    After a few more minutes of this truly excruciating pleasure, Calvin stopped, stood up and quickly removed all of his clothes  — a site truly beyond what  I could have imagined. First, guys with dark skin have the benefit of shadows highlighting all of the body’s contours. As I said before, Calvin was truly blessed with a combo of genetics and discipline. Every curve, sinew and bulge of his musculature was even more pronounced than it would have been on a white guy. Even hits tats, which ran down his arms while nearly the same color of his skin, added a texture that made each muscle they covered that much more pronounced. My eyes went first to his cock. It had a full, dense dark bush. It was long, wide and uncut with two generous-sized balls hanging below it. His cock was definitely big, but not out of proportion with his built body. At this point just the tip of his pinker cock head was sticking out of the skin. Next my eyes went his remarkable ass is “granite shelf” of an ass. Its truly an athletic marvel. It was glistening from either sweat or lotion and was perfectly hairless. Next were his shredded abs. They were beyond impressive, with extreme definition and multiple hills and valleys again, accentuated by sweat and darker and lighter shadows of his skin. I probably could have gotten off simply running my hands through those for several minutes.

    “Old man (I’m 50 to his early 30’s), I’m going to re-define “hot fuck” for you. When I’m finished, every nerve ending in your body will be firing.” This was pretty effective if his intent was full surrender to his cock. Speaking of cock, his was fully erect, standing straight out, with his shiny, pre-cum covered, pink head poking out of his much darker foreskin. I grabbed it, gave it and his balls a few tugs then starting running my tongue all over it until he started to freely leak. He smelled incredibly good down there — a mix of cologne or deodorant and his musky sweat. I went back up to his smooth chest and lick and tugged on his exaggerated nipples — a first for me was putting my nose in his slightly hairy pit and breathing in deeply. Back down to his penis, I continued with my oral/manual routine up until he asked me to once again, bend over the table. Of course I did as asked. Calvin went back to eating out my ass, this time starting to finger fuck me. Tongue, lips, fingers — he had his artillery aimed at my hairy pucker. One finger, then two. Very gently in and out with gentle pressure on my prostate. He got up to get some lube and squeezed it into my ass. “Super tight, as I’d imagined, he said.” With the lube, he got another finger in and began to very gently fuck my ass with three fingers. I reached back to grab his cock and was thrilled to see how hard it still was, as I tugged the foreskin back and forth over his head.

    “I think you’re ready for your trip, bro” Calvin said as he pulled his fingers out of my ass. He proceeded to lay on the ground and at his direction, I squatted over his cock and slowly lowered myself on top of him. I dropped down super slowly and I’m not sure what magic spell he put on me, but it was virtually pain free. His cock was perfectly straight and so hard, you could not tell he was uncut — it was an easy target for my backside bullseye. I expected the pain and hoped I could make it through to the pleasure part. Amazingly, the pain never came. First there was simply a pleasurable feeling of fullness then it became ecstatic. Instead of sliding up and down on his cock (and out of fear of pain), once I felt his coarse pubes tickle my ass, I simply began to grind and twist around, flexing and releasing my ass muscles around his cock. My eyes were rolling back in their sockets the feeing was so intense along my anus walls and my prostate. It was too much — I gave in to the incredibly pleasurable pressure and I came. At first it oozed out, then three long volleys, followed by multiple contractions as I continued to grind and squeeze. There were cum puddles in the low spot in his chest as well as multiple puddles in his abs. The darkness of his skin and the pearl white cum was such an incredibly erotic site that’s definitely stored in my “spank bank.”

    During one of the contractions, Calvin ejaculated intensely but somewhat quietly in my ass. Unlike me, he gushed what must have been six volleys. I had never had someone cum in my ass before and was amazed how i felt each one of his shots. All I wanted to do was see how much I could squeeze out of him. He was moaning and writhing. It was all I could do to stay on — I was not ready for his load to leave my ass yet and my ass and prostate were still buzzing from my orgasm so I continued to grind for both our benefit. My body spasmed for several minutes after ejaculation.

    After about 5 minutes of mutual moans, I eased myself up off my squat around his cock. As I pulled out, I could feel the cum creep out — slow drips at first then a few big globs. It was everywhere…puddled in his pubes, on his cock and a lot down my thighs. What’s sometimes gross when you see it in porn was truly an indescribably, affirming feeling. We layed side by side for awhile first just moaning then talking about the experience we both had. I rolled on top of him, kissed his face and intensely kissed him for several minutes. We both kept fairly strong erections throughout the makeup session

    After we cleaned up in the shower, Calvin was ready for round 2. His body wet and squeaky clean from the shower was beyond tempting, but I told him I needed a break. Once we stepped out of the shower, I did manage one more squat to the ground and a thrust of my face in his ass, playing with that huge muscle, tonguing it up and down with soft rimming around his relatively hairless hole, wondering if I can get my mighty little rod past those crazy hard glutes.

    Calvin was a series of firsts: first black guy, first uncut guy, first bareback cum, first ass munching, first encounter that led to several more.

    It’s pretty fun to go to the gym now and have our little secret, though I suspect others will be on to us soon enough.


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


  • A College Man Comes To Terms

    This is a reposting of the installment where I left off when I originally left off with my fictional endeavor creating a world of two college jocks who fall in love. I accidentally reposted 1 and 2 of the “College Man” / Gregg & Alec series while I was reviewing as I finish off the recent revisiting of these two I’ve worked on while on vacation. So I figured I’d repost the other two, 3 & 4 so they’re all here. I hope everyone who enjoyed the first four will enjoy the new installment I’ll submit in a few days. And in the meantime, anyone who didn’t read them the first time around, I hope you enjoy these four in advance of that new installment.


    A College Man Comes To Terms: Part 4

    by BillyC
    [email protected]

    Gregg had been back two weeks, and Alec had successfully dodged the “move in” thing. His work at the restaurant had helped, as one of the other experienced servers had quit, leaving them short-handed, so Alec had to work more than usual and longer shifts. Fortunately the manager hadn’t pressed him for hours that conflicted with his classes, but just barely.

    Every night, when the restaurant had closed, Gregg had picked him up and taken him back to the new condo on the beach. Alec stayed there each night, too. But he wasn’t comfortable moving in – not at all.

    With Gregg being newly gay, newly out, so far totally OK with just Alec, he thought of the relationship more like a temporary thing, until Gregg figured out that the sea of smokin’ hot men around needed to be test-driven. When Gregg had asked him a couple of times, Alec had said “Why rush – I’m here anyway” and “With all my extra work hours, I’d rather spend my spare time with you than moving things.” So far that had worked.

    But as they rode back from the restaurant, Gregg brought it up in a way he hadn’t before. “Alec, is you not moving in with me a signal I’m missing? About us, I mean?”

    Alec stammered, “Uhhhhhhhhh,” and then went silent.

    Gregg asked him more bluntly. “Would you rather me take you home after we fuck when we get to the condo?”

    Alec almost laughed. Gregg thought he was Alec’s booty call. And maybe chauffeur. But a flare of anger also flashed through him. “Maybe you should just take me home now. MY home – my dorm room.”

    Gregg swerved over to the shoulder of PCH, angrily slammed the gear shift and punched the button to turn the truck off. He swiveled around, looking angry, a look Alec had seen a few times, always when he was angry because he thought someone was not treating Alec right. “TALK!” Gregg said angrily.

    Alec noticed that the only thing he hadn’t done as far as aggressive, angry body language, was cross his arms. He felt shitty . . . and angry, too. He was so fucked-up. “Gregg, I didn’t mean that.”

    “Well then what the fuck did you mean, Alec? I changed my entire life for you, and now you’re pretty much blowing me off here.”

    Alec’s temper was stoked. “You CHANGED YOUR LIFE? FOR ME? Oh, well, then, sorry I haven’t shown my appreciation appropriately!”

    Gregg’s nostrils flared as Alec’s eyes burned into his. “Alec, what the fuck is going on? Are we together or are we just fucking?”

    “Don’t forget driving, too. On the list of things you’re doing for me, that is; driving me to work and school AND fucking me AND changing your entire life,” he spat at Gregg, dripping with sarcasm.

    Gregg’s angry look cracked a bit, and Alec’s chest felt tight. “Alec,” Gregg started, softer than before, “I don’t really know what we’re talking about here. I just thought . . . ” he trailed off.

    “What?” Alec almost yelled. “What did you think? That you could just fuck me, make me fall in love with you, take one of the family’s vast PROPERTY holdings and have me move in for your ready access? And now I’m not doing exactly what you want, and you’re making a demand?”

    Gregg flinched when Alec said the ready access part, and then he just fell silent, speechless. Now it was Alec’s nostrils flaring, his eyes still burning into Gregg’s, his breath hard and coming out loud. “I, uh-“

    “You WHAT?!” Alec challenged.

    Gregg’s anger flared again. “I need to take you to your dorm. Is there anything you need from my place?” he asked evenly, as if there was no significance to it, stomping on the brake and pushing the ignition button.

    He had the truck in gear and back out into traffic on the highway before Alec found his voice. “No,” he answered miserably, now turned forward, staring at the road, expressionless.

    Gregg resisted the urge to drive too fast just to get Alec the fuck out of his truck. They drove silently as Gregg steered them up the long drive to Pepperdine and then through the small ways to get to the dorm where Alec and his roommate, Ron, had their room.

    When he stopped in front of the dorm, Gregg didn’t put the truck in park, and he didn’t turn it off – he just stopped, staring forward. Alec had to force himself to move, but he did, and he opened the truck door and then got out. He stood, not looking in but not closing the door.

    Gregg didn’t turn to look at Alec, much as he wanted. It seemed they just held the position for an interminable interval, but when Alec mumbled “Cya,” and after Gregg mumbled the same, pushed the door shut, Gregg wished that moment hadn’t passed. He could have said something, reached for Alec. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Alec walking away, and he turned his head, choking up.

    FUCK! Gregg thought, banging the steering wheel HARD with the heel of his hand. When he did take his foot off the brake, he stomped the gas, chirping the tires and not feeling the least bit bad about it.

    Alec slammed into the dorm room, startling Ron. “Wow, you’re home, and it’s night. I was beginning to think you’d become a vampire, since you’re never around at night,” Ron joked.

    “Fuck off!” Alec unfairly threw back, flopping on his uncomfortable dorm room bed and crossing his arms angrily.

    “O . . . K . . . ” Ron said. “Guess you and Gregg had your first fight.”

    “No, our LAST fight!” Alec spat.

    “Wow, it must have been something awful. Did he cheat on you?” Ron asked.

    “Of course he didn’t cheat on me!” Alec responded indignantly. “Gregg would never do that – he’s an honest, sincere guy.”

    “Uh HUH!” Ron left some silence. “So you found out he is a drunk or does drugs or something equally horrible?”

    “JESUS, Ron! No way Gregg is like that. You know him; you know he’s not like that!”

    “So . . . ?” Ron asked.

    “I don’t want to talk about it,” Alec said, more like a boy than the man he’d become, pouting.

    “No prob, bud,” Ron said, turning back to his laptop and the show he’d been watching.

    “Okay, so here’s the deal. You know I told you about this condo his parents gave him? The luxury apartment bigger than my parents entire house, right on the beach?”

    Ron paused his show again and turned around. “The one where you two have been fucking your balls off every night? The one you come home from after sleeping – if you two actually sleep – every night, probably with your arms around that hunky bod of his? Grinning every morning when you rush in to shower and dress and rush to class? THAT condo?”

    Alec rolled his eyes at Ron. “The condo he EXPECTS me to move into with him.”

    “OH. MY. GOD.” Ron drew out the exclamation, his face mock horror. “No wonder you’re so fucking pissed off. Geez imagine that – the guy you’re head over heels for – or in your case heels behind ears,” Alec picked up a book off the table by the bed and chucked it at Ron, who parried it off, laughing, “No wonder you’re incensed!”

    “Okay, smartass,” Alec whined.

    “NO, Alec, it’s not okay. WHAT THE FUCK, dude? You are crazy about this guy, buddy. And you’re angry that he wants you to move in with him?”

    “EXPECTS,” Alec repeated.

    “Expects?” Ron was totally confused.

    Alec quickly filled Ron in. Gregg came home from coming out to his parents with a coming out gift – the condo, the expectation that Alec would move in right then and there, without talking about it.

    “Alec,” Ron asked, “Is it possible you’re being a little unfair to Gregg here? Maybe a simple conversation about a relationship isn’t so simple to a straight guy.”

    That stopped Alec. Gregg was a gay novice, and straight girls were always complaining that straight guys didn’t want to talk about relationships.

    “But how could I live there all the time? I’m completely dependent on him for transportation, without a car, and so he has to bring me up to school or I spend hours on the bus all day.”

    “Dude, THAT’s the reason you’re angry with him? Because you CAN’T move there? Sounds like you’re angry you’re not rich like him. And would the bus be worth living with Gregg?” Ron asked, reasoning it out.

    “Well that’s just it; he drives me everywhere. I don’t ever have to take the bus.”

    “Ahhhhhhh,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “I can see how that’s a problem.”

    “Seriously, FUCK YOU!” Alec threw at him half-heartedly.

    “Is that your plan to get over the sexiest guy at Pepperdine?” Ron joked.

    “And fuck you again!” Alec retorted, this time with a laugh.

    “Alec, can I ask you something seriously? Two questions.”

    “Do I have a choice?” When Ron just raised his eyebrows and went to turn back to his laptop, Alec quickly said, “Shoot.”

    “Okay, here goes. First, you ARE crazy about Gregg, aren’t you?” When Alec looked down and blushed, he went on. “I’ll take that as a yes. And by the way? I knew that.” Alec still said nothing, just fidgeted. “So the second question: Where do you wish you were right this second?”

    Alec looked up, his face miserable. “With Gregg.” Ron was about to say he rested his case when Alec’s eyes flared, and he added, “But it wasn’t exactly like he reached out to me to discuss it rationally. He just confronted me about not having committed to move in.”

    “Hashtag gay guys acting like straight guys then being drama queens because of it!” Ron grinned.

    Alec went to throw something at Ron again, but there wasn’t anything else on the table that wouldn’t break, and he was laughing anyway. “So NOW what do I do?”

    “Uh, I’m just winging it here, but I don’t think this is too different for gay guys from straight guys. Apologize? Tell him you’ll talk about it?”

    Alec took a deep breath. Then he nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He quickly thumbed a message to Gregg:
    SORRY – talk to me???? 🙁

    Alec’s phone chimed within ten seconds:
    can we do it in the am

    “The FUCK!” Alec exclaimed.

    “What?” Ron asked, turning back again.

    Before Alec answered, his phone chimed again:
    take me that long 2 clean up the mess I made taking out my frustrations on the condo

    Alec laughed, but he also felt a flash of heat start in his nuts, thinking of Gregg, all manly and angry, wailing on anything within reach.
    I can think of something better 4 u to take ur frustration out on

    “What?” Ron was asking.

    “I think I’ll be getting picked up shortly,” Alec told him, grinning evilly.

    “You’re grinning from ear to ear, dude. I’m happy. But can I give you one word of advice?”

    “Sure, bud. And by the way, thanks for what you’ve already done, talking me through it tonight. Alec’s phone chimed, and he looked down and flushed at what he read:
    I might not be able to control myself . . . yet . . . and u better know what youre getting n2

    “OK, let me guess. Now you’re sexting until he gets here to drag you off to his cave again?” Ron asked, rolling his eyes. Alec just grinned. “So here’s the unsolicited advice, Alec. Stay here tonight.”

    “WHAT?” Alec cried.

    “Hey, down boy. One night of celibacy won’t kill you. Seriously, Alec, you haven’t had a night alone since Gregg came home from his folks’ house. It might be a great idea if you took a night to just sort out your thoughts . . . about what and how you DIDN’T communicate tonight, about what you WANT as far as living with Gregg or not . . . ” he just stopped, holding Alec’s gaze.

    “But I WANT to be with him. I know that,” Alec whined.

    “Alec,” Ron said, getting up and going to his bed, sitting down facing Alec, elbows on knees. “You and Gregg are taking this FAST. And while I’m really happy for you, really happy you’ve been as elated and well-fucked,” Alec went to protest, but Ron held up his hand to stop him, “But you and Gregg have a lot to work out. This was your first speed bump, and look what happened. Give yourself some space to get your head straight, so you can help Gregg get his head straight.”

    Alec’s phone chimed again, but he didn’t look down right away, holding Ron’s gaze, thinking it sounded right, wishing it didn’t. He slowly looked down at his phone.
    did I scare u off?
    “I need to call him,” Alec told him.

    “No prob. I need to hit the head anyway,” Ron told him, smacking Alec’s knee as he got up and headed to the bathroom.

    Alec dialed Gregg.

    Gregg answered, “Hey babe!” enthusiastically.

    “Hi,” he said sheepishly.

    “I’m sorry,” they both said at once, then were both silent. If Gregg felt the same way Alec did, he was moved and grateful that they were apologizing.

    Alec proceeded. “Gregg, would you mind if I stay here tonight and sort of get my head straight?”

    “Don’t even think about getting straight, babe. Been there, and trust me, you wouldn’t like it! I want you GAY!” Gregg joked.

    Alec laughed. “Trust me, that’s the last thing that’ll ever happen. But as much as I really WANT to be with you, Gregg, I think I just need a night to myself. And if you’re willing, let’s talk about it all tomorrow.”

    “Talk about you moving here?” Gregg asked, hopefully.

    Alec almost snapped that they had to talk about the way they couldn’t talk, what had happened, how they’d talked to each other, but he remembered what Ron had speculated, which rang true. “That, and I’d like to talk about how we handled this tonight. Talk it out, so we can get a handle on how to communicate with each other.”

    There was silence, and Alec almost filled it, but he forced himself to wait it out.

    “I’m pretty shitty at this, aren’t I? Gregg asked disconsolately.

    “Hey I wasn’t exactly good at conversation tonight myself. Let’s just leave it that we both want to be together, and we are going to have a conversation to clear the air. Like buds, sorta. Okay?”

    Gregg laughed. “I haven’t fucked any of my buds, other than you at least.”

    Alec laughed with him. “I need to do this, and maybe it’ll be great for you, too. Let’s just decompress tonight and talk tomorrow. I’ll really miss you, Gregg, but I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Alec had rushed because Ron had cracked the door to see if he was done.

    “I can’t vouch that I won’t die from excessive jacking-off tonight thinking of you. You’ve sort of conditioned me, you know.”

    Alec’s body flash-heated again, thinking of Gregg’s huge cock blasting his seed. His breath caught involuntarily. “Save it for me. I will if you will,” he managed to whisper.

    “What if I told you I had my dick in my hand right now?” Gregg teased him.

    Alec moaned. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” He swallowed hard, wishing his mouth was full of Gregg’s big fuckstick. WAIT! “Ron’s here, Gregg. I can’t.”

    Gregg laughed. “I’m just teasing you, Alec. It’s cool. I’ll miss you, but I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I really love you, you know?”

    Alec had about seventeen thoughts, but mostly he was just full of want for Gregg. “You’re awesome, Gregg,” Alec responded lamely. “I can’t wait until tomorrow, babe.”

    “I love it when you call me babe, too. Night, Alec.”

    “Night, babe.” Alec forced himself to hit the END button. “OKAY I’M OFF THE PHONE,” he called to Ron, who immediately came back in, grinning.

    “Night babe,” he mugged, teasing Alec.

    “Fuck you,” Alec shot back, struggling to suppress a smile.

    “Uh, from the stupid-in-love look on your face, it won’t be me you’re fucking anytime soon.”

    “Be careful what you wish for.”

    “YOU wish, Alec!”

    They both laughed, and Ron slapped the side of Alec’s face as he was flopping back on his own bed. “HEY!” Alec protested.

    “Yup, I thought so.”

    “WHAT the-?”

    Ron grinned over at Alec. “There’s no wiping that stupid-in-love grin off your face,” he answered.

    “Oh, seriously, fu-” Alec started, blushing, but then just stopped. “Yeah, point taken.”

    “So, buddy, what are you going to do about the moving in thing?” That got Alec’s face to fall. “Dude, you need me to spell it out for you?” Ron asked, a note of exasperation entering his voice.

    “NO,” Alec whined, “I don’t need you to spell it out for me.”

    “Then tell me what you’re going to do.”

    “I DON’T KNOW!” Alec blurted out in frustration, his fists clenched, bringing them to his forehead and making a face, pounding his forehead.

    “JESUS!” Ron, usually so calm and mild-mannered, spat. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Alec! Like you have a choice.” Alec’s face clouded, and he started to protest. “Okay, okay, just listen to me for a minute.” Alec slumped back again, arms crossed tight across his chest . . . but looking at Ron, attentive. “Alec, however it happened, you and Gregg Owens, the stud of the entire school, found each other and are crazy about each other. You want to be with him, and he wants you to move in with him. So what’s the deal? What’s the problem?”

    Alec was looking into his lap. “I told you. I don’t have any way to get around if I go down there and live with him, to get to classes, to get to work. And what about when he’s done with me and wants someone else?”

    “So let me get this straight.” Ron was standing, looking down at Alec, waiting. When Alec looked up because Ron hadn’t gone on, Ron did. “You know Gregg wants you to move in with him; it’s important to him. He’s been driving you around so far, and I’m guessing he hasn’t seemed to mind any. And you’re all hung up on what happens if?”

    Alec thought about it, but he didn’t answer. Ron waited. When Ron turned to go back to his desk, Alec said, “Ron, thanks, buddy.”

    It was Ron’s turn to grin. “Why don’t you get some things together and grab a shower before I drive you down to the beach?”

    Alec started to say something, then stopped. Then he grinned ear-to-ear. “If it wouldn’t scare your straight ass, I’d jump you and kiss you!”

    “Hey, hey, hey! Save that for your stud man, in that big, empty bed at the beach,” Ron said. And then, just to rib his friend, he added, trying not to laugh, “At least this way I won’t have to see your sorry moony face all weekend!”

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

    Alec pressed the buzzer for the penthouse. Ron was in the car out at the curb, waiting to make sure Alec got inside. Alec heard the ringing through the speaker on the panel outside the condo. Just when he turned around to give Ron a sign that he might be coming back, he heard Gregg’s voice through the speaker. “Hello.”

    “Gregg, it’s me, Alec,” Alec responded breathlessly.

    “Alec, babe. What are you doing calling me on this landline? I don’t even know the fucking number.”

    Alec laughed. “Gregg, I’m at the front door.”

    Gregg’s voice was exuberant. “OHMYGOD, Alec. I’ll, uh . . . I’ll. SHIT! I don’t know how to open that door from the phone. I’ll be right down.”

    Alec laughed and turned and gave Ron the thumbs-up. Ron acknowledged, but he held position. Alec knew his roommate would wait until he saw him go inside the building.

    And before another couple of beats, Gregg burst through the front doors to the building and grabbed Alec in a tight bear hug, pulling him off his feet. Gregg’s mouth was clamped over Alec’s, kissing him hungrily, teeth crashing together, tongue demanding inside. Alec laughed happily, but he was soon drawn into the kiss, groping at Gregg despite his arms tethered by a full duffel and his backpack. Gregg had his leg back, awkwardly balancing into the kiss but holding the door open. He was just so damn happy to have Alec in his arms again.

    Alec finally pulled back and laughed again. “Uhmmmm, maybe we should get inside,” he told Gregg, looking him up and down.

    Gregg looked down, remembering he was only in his boxers, now tented obscenely. He’d just thrown the phone down and run to the elevator to get to Alec. “A great idea, for MANY reasons,” Gregg agreed, pulling Alec inside.

    They didn’t run into anyone in the lobby or the elevator, but they restrained themselves from doing anything more than holding each other on the way up. When they got inside the condo, well, that was another thing.

    Alec lauched himself at Gregg, this time he was the one crushing his mouth over Gregg’s, hungry, desperate. They ground into each other, groped, sucked face, humped. Greg’s arms were wrapped around Alec so tight that Alec thought he might not be able to breathe . . . and he didn’t care – he was in Gregg’s arms, and that’s where he wanted to be.

    “Mmmmmmmmmmm,” Gregg moaned into Alec’s mouth.

    Alec moaned back and laughed. “Mmmmmmmmmmm for sure!” he agreed.

    They both backed off enough to breathe a little. Gregg put his forehead against Alec’s, then Alec leaned into him. “I’m really, REALLY,” Gregg told Alec, grinding his boner into Alec’s jeans, “Glad you came here . . . came home. ARE you home, Alec?”

    Alec pulled back and looked down the couple of inches into Gregg’s eyes and took a breath. “Gregg, I have some concerns.” Gregg blinked and sucked in a breath. “But there’s nowhere I want to be but with you, babe.”

    Gregg’s face beamed, and he tightened his grip on Alec. “It’s OK, right?” Alec looked at him, confused. “The concerns you have. They’re nothing we can’t work out together, right?”

    Alec felt his stomach tighten, knowing that some of his concern was that ultimately Gregg would want to move on, find someone more like him, or just to have his fun with the myriad studs who would bend over in a heartbeat for a superstud like Gregg. Alec forced thoughts of other, hotter men turning Gregg’s head out of his own mind, morphing his face into a filthy grin. “My first concern is when you’re going to fuck me,” he teased Gregg.

    Gregg’s eyes rolled a little at hearing that, and then he smirked at Alec. “Who says it’s me fucking you?” he posed, grabbing Alec’s crotch. Alec was surprised, and his cock was certainly all over the idea of taking Gregg’s luscious butt. He felt himself hardening even more in his jeans under Gregg’s grip than he’d already been. He shoved his crotch forward into Gregg’s hold on him. “I’ll take that as agreement, then,” Gregg grinned.

    Pulling Alec behind him – no effort required, as Alec would have followed Gregg anywhere, anytime, but particularly now, right now, smoldering need threatening to flare up – by his grip on Alec’s bone, they were in the sumptuous bedroom seconds later. Gregg turned and, still gripping Alec’s cock, kissed him and encircled his waist with his other arm, holding Alec so tight and close that he could barely breathe . . . or was that the kiss and being with Gregg that was enough to take Alec’s breath away.

    Alec let himself go to the long, passionate, probing, demanding, tantalizing kiss, all the while Gregg rubbed his hardon in his jeans. At some point Gregg popped the buttons and took hold of Alec skin-to-skin, eliciting a gasp from Alec. “OHYEAH!” he exclaimed into Gregg’s mouth, pistoning his hips into Gregg’s grip on his raging fuckrod, feeling his precum smeared all over his cock and in Gregg’s hand.

    “FUCK that’s so fuckn hot, Alec,” Gregg told him, rubbing his bulbous, engorged head in the goo of Alec’s excitement.

    Alec’s skin was stretched but still loose enough to cover his head as Gregg worked it back and forth and then went palm-to-head and almost caused him to jump out of his skin from the excitement. “Are you – sure you – don’t want to – ” Alec tried to get out, but Gregg stopped him.

    “I’m sure,” he said, kissing Alec again, then finished with, “I want us to be equal partners, Alec.” He did that thing again – palm-to-head, Gregg’s skin on his without his foreskin in the way – and Alec’s head jerked back in a silent scream of pleasure. “I want everything we do, sexually and otherwise, to be equal, Alec,” he told him as he writhed in Gregg’s grip.

    “Unless you’re plan – ning on cumming – in the next ten sec – uhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm – “

    Gregg laughed and slacked off on his handiwork on Alec’s cock, kissing him quickly, smacking his lips loudly. “I fucking LOVE your body, Alec,” he said, reaching in and taking a handful of Alec’s big balls in his even bigger paw and rolling them, feeling Alec’s precum flowing onto his forearm.

    “Oh, fuck, Gregg. My body LOVES you. OH MY GOD, how you make me feel, Gregg.” Gregg growled and tugged on Alec’s big nuts, now slicked in his hand from Alec’s precum. “OHFUCK YEAH!” Alec exclaimed.

    Catching himself, he suddenly put his hand out on Gregg’s chest. “HEY!” he cried, startling Gregg, having the unintended effect of Gregg giving his sac a yank. “OHFUCK STOP IT!” Alec laughed. “Who’s working whom here, anyway? I thought I was topping here tonight!”

    Gregg laughed and came in for another kiss. Alec tried to pull back playfully, arching an eyebrow, but the pullback was thwarted by Gregg’s grip on his nuts, pulling him in, just painfully enough to cause a huge glob of precum to flow out of his head. “OH JESUS!” Alec gasped just before Gregg’s lips covered his.

    Gregg took his other hand and pulled Alec’s to his boxers, now drenched with his own precum, a huge spot radiating over his upper thigh where his enormous cockhead was trapped. “Any doubts I’m ready for you?” he asked, his lips still close enough to brush Alec’s as he spoke. Throwing gasoline on the already raging fire between them, he added, “Feel like enough precum to lube me? I’ve been fantasizing of you lubing me with your precum, but since we’re responsible men, I’ll settle for mine and fantasize it’s yours as you invade me.”

    The spot on Gregg’s boxers was huge and gooey around Gregg’s massive cockknob, and Alec couldn’t help but let a moan escape his lips as he worked Gregg’s cock through his soaked boxers. “Mmmmmmmmmm.” Then, without prompting, he reached around, inside the waistband of Gregg’s boxers, and found his hole with his slicked finger.

    “OH FUCK!” Gregg gasped, pushing back into Alec’s finger.

    The advantage Gregg had in this deal was that Alec’s cock, while very large by any standard and considerably longer than Gregg’s, was nothing like the impossibly thick fucklog Gregg wielded, so Gregg’s novice cunt would fare better. Pushing his finger into Gregg’s TIGHT pucker, Gregg flinched. Alec laughed and kissed Gregg – his turn now. “If you are this sensitive to my finger . . . ” he smirked at Gregg.

    In answer, Gregg pushed back again. “DO IT!” he growled.

    Alec did, slipping his long middle finger into that tight, hot ring and gently rubbing just inside. Gregg groaned and then moaned as Alec’s finger worked him slowly, lovingly. When Alec gently pulled out of the slicked entry, Gregg whined. “Just restocking, babe,” Alec told him, his hand now around inside the side of Gregg’s boxers. When he gripped Gregg’s precum-slimy head, Gregg gasped again, another glob of precum coming into Alec’s hand. “Oh, yeah, just like that. Like a dispenser!”

    He had his finger back at Gregg’s butt and stretched his fingers all the way to Gregg’s taint and then rubbed three gooey fingers all the way up, pressing into and then over Gregg’s pucker and up beyond, slicking him good with all the output Alec had harvested from Gregg’s flowing tap. Gregg was moaning long and low, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” When Alec’s finger went back to Gregg’s opening, it found Gregg wanting it and again thrusting back. This time we went to his second knuckle easily, Gregg’s gasp fully of pleasure.

    Gregg gyrated on Alec’s finger, fucking himself, demanding more. Alec gripped Gregg’s rock-hard jock ass, his finger inside, like gripping a bowling ball. Gregg went to protest, but Alec stopped him. “Let’s get comfortable,” he told Gregg softly, but he didn’t let go of his impaling grip. Before he let Gregg loose, he went in for another kiss, rubbing his finger in and out of Gregg’s fuckchannel as he kissed him.

    Alec pushed a bit farther, tapped Gregg’s prostate. “HOLYFUCK!” Gregg cried out, his whole body having jerked. PUSHING back, trying to get Gregg to do it again, he demanded it. “DO THAT AGAIN!”

    Laughing, Alec kissed Gregg’s neck, and as his teeth found skin, he tapped Gregg’s p-spot again, feeling the jerk, hearing the gasp. “Just a preview, stud,” he whispered, licking up Gregg’s neck and kissing his earlobe. “Now get on the bed.” He pulled his finger out, to a whimper from Gregg. “And lose the boxers.”

    Gregg, freed reluctantly, got out of his soaked boxers and clambered back onto the bed. Alec shucked his sneakers, jeans, now equally soaked with precum, boxer-briefs, even more soaked. After pulling off his gym socks he finally stood, facing Gregg on the bed. The eager stud was on his back, knees pulled up to his chest, held back and wide open by his hands, his slicked hole and crack catching the bedroom light. “OH MAN!” Alec exclaimed, unconsciously licking his lips.

    Looking at Alec, Gregg saw his cock drip a glob of precum as Alec ogled him. Alec’s cock was rock-hard, long, a bit over average thickness, huge-looking head, all slick and dripping. And Alec’s big swinging nuts hanging there, ready to pump his seed into Gregg. “I want it, Alec. I want you. Now!” Gregg rasped. “Please . . . just fuck me . . . now!”

    “Gregg, we need to-“

    “I FUCKING WANT IT NOW! I CAN TAKE IT!!!” Gregg yelled. “GET UP HERE AND MOUNT ME,” he ordered.

    Alec was caught between the flash of heat blasting through him and his amusement. As he grabbled lube and condoms from the drawer by the bed, briefly hoping Gregg’s big condoms wouldn’t balloon on his less-thick cock, Gregg ordered, “Condom only. Use my lube. And if there isn’t enough, add yours.”

    Alec dropped the lube and climbed onto the bed, kneeling, looking down at Gregg’s ripped torso over his jacked legs. As Alec ripped the condom package open in his teeth and spit the torn piece off the bed, Gregg met his gaze – full of need – and said, “Just take me, Alec. I NEED you inside me, to be a part of me.”

    “We’re not going to do anything that isn’t safe, Gregg. No way. So you’d better make sure you’ve got plenty of lube you’re producing there.” Alec’s grin was wicked, and as he looked down he saw a puddle of pre on Alec’s abs already. “Mmmmmm,” he said, swiping a handful, “Good boy!”

    Working the slick over his sheathed cock and then re-lubing Gregg’s hole, he managed two fingers, to a grimace from Gregg, but when he scissored his fingers inside and tickled Gregg’s p-spot again, Gregg was writhing and begging and fucking back onto his fingers. “OHJESUSALEC! GIMME IT!”

    Alec lined himself up at Gregg’s entry, knowing that two fingers hadn’t prepared Gregg, but also seeing Gregg straining to push into him. “Relax, breathe, and push out as I push in,” he told Gregg.

    Gregg’s look was perplexed at the last, counterintuitive to him, as it was to every man learning to take the intrusion of a hardon in his asspussy. But Gregg relaxed his body noticaeably, forced his breathing to be deep and rhythmic. Alec pushed into him, and he saw Gregg grimace, but also felt him pushing out, and Alec’s fat cockhead pushed harder, finally popping inside, to a gasp from Gregg. “FUCK!” he panted. “Gimme a minute.”

    “Relax, babe,” Alec cooed down to him, causing Gregg to smile wide when he called him babe. It was momentarily that he felt Gregg’s cunt loosen its grip on his raging fuckbone, and he pushed in deeper. Gregg gasped, and his face contorted, but Alec could feel that he didn’t fight it. “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!”

    Alec carefully adjusted position to push past Gregg’s prostate when he found it, but Gregg’s wild jerk made it difficult. “OHFUCKYEAH!” Gregg cried. Alec just smiled, watching his studjock take his cock, his eyes boring into Alec’s as he took him.

    When Alec bottomed out, Gregg’s face was awash with pleasure, despite his panting and gasps as he worked to control his breathing. “How do you feel?” Alec asked, enjoying the feel of his balls against Gregg’s hairy butt, his bush jammed into Gregg’s crack.

    Gregg smiled and settled first one ankle and then the other onto Alec’s shoulders. As Alec turned to the side and kissed first one of Gregg’s massive hobbit-feet and then the other, Gregg’s words wafted up, not strained, just contented. “Like the love of my life and I are mated – like the man I love is about to fuck me – like the man I love is about to make a real man out of me.”

    Alec’s stomach tightened, and the wave of joy that threatened to make him choke up was quickly intercepted and pushed behind Alec’s renewed flash of heat, coming from Gregg’s tight hot cunt-grip on his fully-buried cock. Alec pulled back a couple of inches then pushed in again, gently, eliciting a long moan from Gregg. Emboldened, he pulled out a few more, then THRUST back in that time, causing Gregg to gasp. “OH FUCK YES!” When Alec pulled out until his head was stretching Alec’s cuntpucker, threatening to pop out, Gregg whimpering, he SLAMMED back in, knocked Gregg’s prostate HARD, causing Gregg to cry out, “OHGODYES!” That was the last of Alec’s restraint.

    The rutting went to intense, Alec slam-fucking Gregg’s cunt harder and harder, faster and faster, enjoying Gregg’s head thrashing back and forth every thrust, every impact on his p-spot, the precum running out of Gregg’s bobbing cock, splattering all over his abs and running off, down his sides. Alec’s balls were slapping Gregg’s ass HARD, hard enough to begin to ache in a tantalizing way, enhancing the multi-dimensional pleasure Alec felt. He was fucking the man he loves, fucking the hottest stud he’d ever seen, giving him pleasure and taking pleasure from him.

    “OH FUCKING HELL YESSSSSSSSSSSS!” Gregg was crying. “FUCK ME, BABE. JUST FUCKING FUCCCCKKKKKKKK MEEEEEE!”

    Alec’s lasting power surprised him. He’d thought it was a chance he’d blast the second he was inside Gregg, but here he was, drilling Gregg’s HOT, TIGHT fuckhole on and on, floating and soaring and feeling the most amazing things. Even his balls, now ACHING in earnest from the roughness of their impact over and over against Gregg’s marble buttcheeks, was stoking his fire.

    When Alec grabbed Gregg by the ankles, lifting his legs high and pulling them wide, he began jackhammering his cunt as hard and as fast as he could. “OHMYFUCKINGGODYESSSSSSSSSSSS!” Gregg cried, his body jerking and spasming as Alec pummeled his prostate and savaged his fuckchute. As Alec pushed harder, faster, deeper, he felt and saw Gregg’s body tighten, his cries going louder. “OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK OHMYGOD OHFUCKOHFUCK OHFUCKALEC YOU’RE GONNA MAAAA—” at that last his body went totally rigid for a few thrusts and then exploded in writhing spasms as his cock began blasting thick long ropes so hard they were over Gregg’s head, across his face and hair, all up his chest and neck. There were many of them – Alec couldn’t count after the second as his own body began to explode from his nuts and asshole upward and outward.

    “YEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Alec screamed, planting himself DEEP inside Gregg and feeling his nuts begin to explode and pump his seed into the condom inside Gregg.

    “OHGOD ALEC,” Gregg screamed, his cock only dribbling now. “I can FEEL you cumming inside me! I can feel your cock pumping.”

    Alec heard Gregg, but he was nowhere near any control over his own body, still planted deep inside his lover, the only thing keeping him from toppling were his hands on Gregg’s strong legs by his ankles. Then Gregg pulled his knees back, and Alec was lowered, letting go of his grip one by one and feeling Gregg’s legs encircle him. As Alec plopped onto Gregg’s sweaty, cummy body, Gregg’s arms enwrapped him, holding him tight.

    Breathing – tight and fast – chests heaving – gasping – the stink of sweat and cum on both of them, together. Alec’s face was in Gregg’s neck, his arms limply over Gregg’s huge shoulders and cupping Gregg’s sweaty neck and the back of his head. Gregg’s lips on Alec’s sweaty neck, his bearhug grip reassuring.

    Gregg whispered, “I love you Alec.”

    Alec took a breath, then another, and he realized Gregg was misinterpreting the pause by Gregg’s body starting to tense. He propped himself up, looking down at Gregg. He knew his face was absolute stupid bliss, nothing else. He felt Gregg’s body ease again, his hug tightening momentarily, a grin spreading across his face. “I am SO wildly, crazily, totally GONE in love with you, Gregg,” Alec confessed. And before Gregg could say anything he continued. “I want to be with you – for as long as you want me – and I don’t care about anything else, nothing else matters.”

    Having said it, having realized it, given in to it, Alec was relieved. However long this lasted, he was going to ride it for all it was worth. Starting with dragging Gregg into the most amazing shower Alec had ever seen or even dreamed of, to wash them up. “Come on, babe,” Gregg beat him to the punch. “Let’s get showered up and sleep in tomorrow until I have to take you to work.”

    Alec smiled and gently forced his muscles to get him up, to pull his flagging cock out, slowly and gently, watching Gregg’s face combine a grin and a grimace as he did, then relief. “Wait, first I have an idea,” Alec told him, pushing Gregg’s hulk until he rolled over onto his stomach, all the goo of Gregg’s cum and their sweat on the bedclothes but who cared. Alec dove into Gregg’s freshy-fucked ass face-first, causing Gregg to cry out loudly, joyously, then lasciviously as Alec’s tongue gently snaked inside and worked around.

    “OHMYGOD, BABE. OHMYGOD!” Gregg moaned over and over again.

    When Gregg had slurped up whatever remained of Gregg’s precum he could get and Gregg’s asscunt juices, savoring the taste of him, of them, he came up for air and looked at Gregg, his face to the side, all content and full of pleasure. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Alec moaned, smacking his lips, grinning. “Okay, NOW the shower!” he ordered, smacking Gregg’s ass HARD, eliciting a yelp.


    I hope you enjoyed my foray into a world I never know – college boys, coming out . . . Look for Part 5 coming soon.


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


  • 2016 Can Go Fuck Itself

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    Author’s note:  This one was inspired by two of my Facebook friends. Gay guys mid 20s who live in different cities.  It’s been a hard year for each of them. And they each posted depressed and lonely thoughts about it, almost at the same time.  I sat here reading what they each wrote, and I thought, these two sexy-yet-sad boys ought to meet and spend New Year’s Eve together and just cuddle and FUCK.  They both need it bad! 

    So.  From Facebook to fiction, here it is.  Hope you enjoy. Comments and feedback welcome.  Happy new year 2017 to all of us. – Paul

    =-=-=-=-=-=

    2016 Can Go Fuck Itself

    January 2, 2017

    Hi.  I’m Tyler.  I moved up here to Worcester, Massachusetts a month ago, mid-November.  I moved up here from Hell’s Kitchen in New York City for a new job, and to get some quiet time and get control of my life.

    I had to work yesterday, New Year’s Day, January 1, starting at 11am.  And I don’t know that many people up here in Worcester yet. It’s a small city, it feels tiny compared to the big gay scene I left behind down in New York.  And the few friends I have made here so far, are on a different page than me in some ways.  They want to go out on New Year’s Eve and drink a lot, act stupid, party hard.  So I was feeling kind of stuck about what to do on New Year’s Eve, or maybe just stay in my apartment, in my room, all by myself.

    I’m in recovery.  12 step program.  I’m sober, 100%.  I go to meetings and I have a 35 year old sponsor named Dan and I am taking it one day at a time (5 months and 11 days, by the way), all of that stuff.  Go ahead and make fun of me for it if you want to, I don’t give a shit anymore. I’m 26 years old and I’m alive.  I rode that “bad boy” train until it crashed, and it crashed hard this summer. 

    Honestly, like I wrote online recently, 2016 can go fuck itself.  I’m done with it.  I’m up here in Worcester to try to start over.

    So like I said, my name’s Tyler. I’m 26 but sometimes I feel older, from living way too hard these past few years.  I’m in a recovery group specifically for drugs – my problem started out as other stuff but it spiraled down into a really bad crystal meth addiction this year, from March to June. 

    Long story, full of clichés.  I hit rock bottom, lost job, wiped out my cash, got kicked out of my apartment, my Mom and relatives got money to get me into rehab for 4 weeks and then I had to stay at Mom’s, then I got this new job up here in Worcester thanks to my Aunt Linda who pulled some strings to help me get another chance.  I don’t want to fuck it up.

    I used to be super hot looking, like, at the end of college and right after.  When I was age 21 to 23.  Gorgeous smooth young face, buff “go go dancer/ porn star” type body, cute white-boy looks, six feet tall, spiky blond hair and blue eyes, cocky attitude and sexy smile. The total package.  I was a fixture on the NYC gay party scene, and that’s an understatement.  I actually have some hearing loss now, from too many long nights dancing under those mega-high-decibel sound systems.  I still am a handsome guy, same good facial features and decent body, but I definitely look older now.  Like, if I told you I was in my early 30s, maybe you’d say I look great.  But if I tell you the truth that I’m only 26, you might think I look a little bit worn down and beat up.

    But I’m feeling better and better, each month.  The harsh aftereffects of breaking a meth habit are receding, and I’m getting back to real health.  Eating good food, sleeping peacefully at night. Staying 100% sober and in my program, and working out again.  Medications got my HIV viral load down to “undetectable” and I barely have any side effects from the new med I’m taking, it’s much better. 

    It means a lot to me to be “undetectable”.  Like, I’m still HIV positive, and I need to keep that as a warning to stay healthy and sober, no matter what.  But the virus itself can’t even be found in my bloodstream, not by measurements in a lab.  Undetectable.  I pray a lot, these days, to the God I still don’t quite believe in.  “Please. Please keep it like this.”

    And you know what?  Today is Monday, January 2, 2017.  The start of a new year.  And I feel good, better than I’ve felt in at least a year.  Not counting the artificially jacked-up, maniacal “HOLY FUCKIN SHIT I AM SO STOKED AND CRAZY-HAPPY” that I used to get from a peak high on meth.  No.  This is the real deal, just me, Tyler. Me in this body, natural, and happy. 

    It’s been a long fuckin’ time.

    Part of it is that New Year’s Eve turned out really good.  In an unexpected way.

    I don’t know what possessed me to get on Facebook and dump my inner thoughts out to the world that night.  But I did, on Christmas night, a week ago Sunday night.  I was in a new city, and lonely. A lot of my family and close friends cut me off earlier this year after I got too self-destructive on drugs and I did some untrustworthy things, and I lashed out at some of them for not giving me money.  It was bad.  Some things said can get brutal, and can cut deep, and it is hard to get the other person to believe, afterward, how sorry you are.  How you didn’t mean it.  I still feel ashamed of a lot of things I did and said back in April, May, June, July.  I’m not that Tyler anymore.  But I am the living continuation of him… and it’s me who holds the consequences.

    So I get on Facebook and I post this long thing about sadness.  I write about how I want to just have cozy sober time with some friends but the only friends I know here in Worcester want to go out and party really hard, get drunk and loud and stupid.  Or there’s this 12 step “alternative party” in a church basement with fluorescent lights and folding chairs and a bowl of chips and a bottle of ginger ale.  They mean well but, no. I just can’t. 

    I started ranting, typing on and on about how I know I should be grateful to be alive and to have survived what I did, but right now I’m just feeling like shit.

    Dozens of my “Facebook friends” posted all kinds of supportive comments, and a few who are closer to me reached out by private message and texts to my phone.  It helped me a lot.  Especially that a few of them were party boys I knew from NYC who said that my getting sober and being public about it, woke them up and got them to make changes too.  They’d already told me this in some cases, these past few months, but hearing it again made me feel better. 

    One message was from my old college friend Eddie.  And it really surprised me.  Eddie and Jason were “the gay It couple” in college, two adorable cute sweet boys who found each other right away at age 19 and fell in love. They were EddieAndJason – inseparable – from that point on.  I wanted to do a 3-way with them back then.  A lot of us did, ha ha.  Eddie was kind of cute and Jason was even hotter. But EddieAndJason were strictly monogamous and in LOVE, and they let everybody know it. 

    After graduation, EddieAndJason stayed in Boston for a few years, then last year they moved out to the suburbs of Boston, with a house and a lawn and garden and everything.  They were only 25.  Living like my parents, LOL.  But they gushed happiness about it online… a lot.  Photos and more photos, of them and their new home and garden.  Eddie was a yoga teacher and dance instructor, and Jason had some job in corporate finance and it sounded like Jason’s job made the house-owning thing possible. 

    Not much shocks me anymore, but I was shocked when I read Eddie’s message:

    “Hey Tyler. Sorry I have been a bad friend, not staying in touch enough. I have been thinking of you and glad you are doing OK now. I can relate to what you wrote. It is hard for me to say this, we have not gone public with it yet, but Jason just moved out on Dec 17.  It was a very hard Christmas for me.  I realize now I made a big mistake: I did not do enough to maintain real friendships, with friends. I put everything into my relationship with Jason instead and now it’s over and I don’t know what to do. It hurts so much. Anyway I really connect to what you wrote, how 2016 can go fuck itself.  I have a lot of anger inside me these days. Hope 2017 is better for you and for me both.  Your friend, Eddie”

    Long story short, Eddie and I started chatting online.  It is awkward to reconnect with a friend when he’s at his worst.  But it’s honest.  We got over the awkwardness fast, and we typed stuff back and forth to each other for two hours, and it was the most real, heart to heart conversation I ever had with Eddie, all these years, including college.  It was really comforting to chat with him like this.  I never dreamed that a day would come when perfect happy Eddie, the yoga teacher with the house, would be so broken down and sad – and it would be me, the messed up party-boy meth addict, giving him hopeful advice and supportive words.  Life is full of twists and turns.

    And so, when Eddie said he has the house all to himself with a fireplace and wide screen TV, and he’s all alone and sad, and me just wanting to hang out with cool sober people and I have to work the next day… well, I invited myself over.  Literally. 

    “How about this, I come over for New Years Eve and we have a fire and just watch a movie and eat pizza or something.  We both need the company. And your house in Needham is 1 hour from Worcester.”

    Eddie typed back “OMG that sounds good. No sad movies though”

    And the plan was on.

    On New Year’s Eve, Saturday night, around 7:30pm I got in my car and drove to Eddie’s house in Needham. Driving east on the Mass Pike (aka Route 90), I thought more about all the stuff Eddie had shared with me in our online chats.  My longest relationship… fuck, what even counts as a relationship?  I can sort of count Blake, summer of 2014. That was a few months if you call our drug-fueled fucking and making-out sessions and sleepovers and burbled words of love a relationship.  But Eddie has been, like, married to Jason.  They bought a fucking house in the suburbs. They really were EddieAndJason for seven years, 2010 to 2016.  Eddie is probably in a state of shock.

    Driving down the highway, I thought about more pieces of what Eddie had told me. How he discovered in September that Jason was having sex on the side, and a lot of it, using online hookup sites. How Jason was pretending to have work-related meetings in the city (Boston) several evenings a week, for his finance job.  How Jason, after he got caught, convinced Eddie to “open up” their relationship and let Jason keep doing what he wanted. How Eddie didn’t really want to, but he was afraid saying no would end everything, so he said OK.  And then Jason dumped him anyway, very suddenly, just two weeks ago. “I realized I don’t love you anymore.”  Right before Christmas.  Moving out that weekend.

    I also learned that the house out in suburbia was Eddie’s idea, more than Jason’s.  The real deal there is that Eddie inherited money from his grandmother.  I didn’t ask how much, but it was enough so that Eddie was the one who put in the down payment and he is actually paying most of the mortgage, Jason was just putting in a little. 

    I pull up to Eddie’s house around 8pm, and it’s a nice little suburban house.  There’s a light coat of snow on the lawn and the front bushes, lights on inside, and an outside lamp-light on at the side door next to the driveway.  I feel guilty because my first thought is for Jason, Eddie’s now-ex.  Like, if I was Jason, fuck it, I’d probably have to bail out of this too.  That’s what I think when I get out of my car and stand breathing in the cold night air, looking around at the house and the lawn and the snow and all the other similar houses and lawns around it, across the neighborhood. It’s a scene that looks like it could be quite nice for a gay couple in their 40s.  But not in their mid 20s, at least not if it was me… and apparently not Jason either. 

    I walk up to the side door with the light on, and I knock, and Eddie comes to the door right away, opening it with a big smile.  “Tyler!”  He welcomes me in and hugs me close for just a moment.  The hug feels nice on me after the hour long drive. 

    He looks a little bit older, too, from what I remembered. With my last few years in a drug binge/problem, I never really paid close attention to Eddie’s happy-home photo updates online. Now I see him face to face and, yeah, age 26 is different from age 21. He’s still a cute guy but I notice a few changes.  His boyish face used to be slimmer from side to side, now it’s a little more filled out, and he’s got a short trimmed dark brown beard/goatee thing going on, along his jawline and chin. And Eddie’s forehead has risen a little; his curly dark brown hair is just starting to go bald.  He’s still cute though. His warm smile and his remarkable dancer’s body always got a lot of compliments.

    Eddie invites me in for a house tour.  Nice open living room/den scenario with the fireplace and the widescreen TV up on the side wall, and a sofa that faces it all diagonally, some more comfy chairs, and thick plush carpeting.  His face goes sad now. “We were gonna tear out this carpet and restore the hardwood floors…”  I tell him the room looks good either way.  The truth is I don’t know shit about home-improvement stuff, but I wanted to say something nice and get his mind off Jason.

    We walk around, Eddie shows me the house. It’s nothing remarkable but it’s nice.  It’s got two bedrooms and a tiny home-office room and a bathroom upstairs, and this big living room/den thing with a fireplace, and a dining room and a kitchen and a half bathroom downstairs.  Eddie points to a door. “There’s a basement too but it’s still a dirty mess down there. That was going to be another project.”

    I compliment him on the house.  “Nice house, Eddie.  I don’t know if you’re gonna want to stay in it now, but it’s a nice place.”  Then I silently kick myself for saying it that way. “I’m sorry, that was not the right thing to say.”

    He smiles and says “Nah, it’s OK.  You just said what I’ve been thinking. But I don’t want to make any fast decisions… my head is a mess right now.” 

    Then he changes the subject.  “You hungry?”

    I am, kind of.  We talk about pizza and then Eddie mentions a local Thai restaurant that does really good takeout. “Let’s do that” I say.  He places an order on his phone.

    Then we just sit back in his living room, on the sofa and chairs, and talk for a while.  Eddie seems sad but really glad to see me. I motion to the fireplace; Eddie’s got all this wood stacked neatly next to it, enough logs to burn fire all night long, and an artfully arranged stack of kindling and newspaper all ready to go inside it to start things off.  I grin, asking Eddie, “Wanna light this baby up?” Eddie smiles back. “Sure.”  He goes to the fireplace, crouches down and strikes a match, gets the flame going. 

    And as he does this, I’m staring in wonder at his butt.  Wow. Its shape looks so fucking round and perfect in his tan cotton yoga pants, the kind with the little drawstring around the waist. Hot damn. I had forgotten, this is Yoga-Teacher Eddie. That butt! It really is top grade. My eyes just stare at that ass until he backs it up from the fire and comes back to his chair.

    We sit back and talk about life, and watch the flames slowly get going in the fireplace.  Everything feels cozy. The fire gives it all a golden glow and a moving thing to look at, to be mesmerized by.  The room warms up a little.  “Too warm?” Eddie asks.

    “Not yet” I smile, and I crack a joke.  “If it gets hot, we can decide: open a window or just get naked.” 

    Eddie shakes his head, laughing. “Don’t tempt me, Tyler… it’s been a rough month.”

    The Thai food arrives.  Eddie tips and thanks the delivery guy, and we move to the dining room and spread it all out on the dining table.  Eddie brings out plates, forks, all that stuff.  And then I get a memory and an idea.

    “Hey, you know what?  When I was a little kid, in the winter, we sometimes used to eat food in front of the fireplace, sitting on a blanket, like a picnic outdoors. It was fun.  Want to do that?  ‘Cause we’re way over here, and I like the fire.”

    Eddie likes this idea, and he goes to fetch what turns out to be a spare bed-sheet. “This’ll do.”  And we move all the food and stuff, and we settle into a picnic scene right there in front of the fire.  It’s getting really nice and warm now.

    We start with the soup, it’s that coconut-lime-chicken soup that Thai restaurants all do. Very tasty. Eddie pours it into two bowls, and opens the container of pad thai and puts that onto two plates, and we start to eat.  We’re eating slow, relaxing, staring into the fire, the dancing flames.  Sparks pop and crackle and the heat warms our faces, arms, legs and feet as we sit sprawled on the bedsheet picnic-blanket, slurping soup and eating peanut-sauce noodles. 

    There’s more food after this, but we take a break and just sit back on the sheet on top of soft carpeting, watching the fire.  I grin slowly, contentedly. “This is good.”

    Eddie just smiles and nods his head slowly.  We both keep on staring peacefully into the warm fire, as it moves and moves.

    Minutes pass.

    Suddenly a very large spark pops out from the fire, a burning ember, and it flies right out onto the bedsheet between us.  Eddie and I both move fast to put it out, crushing it with the plastic Thai-food container, and using a fork to fling it off the sheet back onto the fireplace stones.  We get it under control. There’s a quarter-sized burnt hole in the sheet now, but all is good. The house isn’t burning down. 

    And now in our new positions, the outside of my leg is pressed against the outside of Eddie’s leg, as we sit back and our eyes settle again on the fire.  I feel the sensation of touch between us at just that one point, leg to leg, and I start to get horny, it’s been a few weeks for me. 

    No words spoken.  The fire keeps blazing as we stare meditatively into it, and the room is very warm.  I feel Eddie’s leg gently touching mine.

    I press my leg just a bit more against Eddie’s.  A moment later he’s pressing his leg against mine, a little more, in response.

    It all happens fast, after that.  We slide all the food and stuff way over to the side. Eddie gets up and closes all of the window curtains for privacy from the neighbors, then he comes back to me and the fire.  I like the heat and I want us naked soon, so I tell Eddie to throw more logs onto the fire.  He does, obediently. Fuck, again, that amazing round yoga butt on him. I want it so bad. 

    I say “come over here, you” and I get Eddie laying back in my arms, his warm sexy body resting on mine, my own body bolstered by a bunch of pillows off the sofa.  My hands caress his chest, outside of his shirt, and it’s surprisingly strong and muscular. I always thought of Eddie as this soft sweet dancer and yoga boy, but it’s clear from what my hands are feeling, he is lifting some weights these days as well. 

    I bend my face to his neck and I softly kiss his very warm skin, as we both keep staring into the bright flames in motion before us.  “More?” I ask. 

    He stays quiet for a moment. Then he says “Yeah” in a soft low voice, and he turns his head and we’re kissing.  His lips are soft and juicy, sensual, and his eyes remain closed.  Eddie is a good kisser.  I bend my head down a bit more, kissing him with a little more intention, more hunger.  I slide my hand underneath his shirt and I feel how warm his bare skin is, along the ridges of his abs, and there’s a slight slick of sweat on him from all this heat.  I chuckle and say “I don’t wanna open a window, do you?” and I begin to slowly strip Eddie’s clothing off, piece by piece. 

    I pull each sock off his now-bare feet.  I unbutton his shirt and slide it off his torso as he raises his beautiful arms to cooperate with me.  One of his armpits is near my face and it’s so fucking beautiful, I want to nuzzle my face right into it and breathe in the scent of him.  I think, fuck yeah, I’ll definitely do that later.  Fuck, Eddie’s body is even more strong and fit and gorgeous than I remembered. 

    Now he’s just wearing those cotton yoga pants and a skimpy white tank-T.  And I see his dick is rising up in those pants, making a tent as it gets hard.  I reach down and caress it over the cotton fabric as our mouths keep kissing, making out.  “mmmm” Eddie moans softly. 

    He reaches around to try to start undressing me too. I stop him.  “Uh-uh.  Not yet. I wanna open my present first.  Alllll the way open.”

    Eddie breathes audibly with excitement and his eyes look up into mine, full of yearning.  I close my eyes and kiss him again, and this time my tongue goes in, licking his, dancing with it.  Wet and juicy.  He loves this, and he needs it too, I can tell.  My hands reach down and yank apart the drawstring-knot on his cotton yoga pants, and I slide them down toward his knees.  Eddie helps me, his legs kicking the pants off.  He’s wearing cute maroon-red boxer-briefs and his dick is straining against them, erect and hard.  There’s a wet spot. I reach down and touch it, I swirl just my thumb around and around that spot, pressing in gentle warm circles around the head of his dick.  I can actually feel it throbbing, through the fabric.  His breathing gets deeper as I playfully tease his wet dick-head. Fuck, yeah, he is into this. 

    Me too. I move my hands back up and begin to lift off Eddie’s white tank-top.  He lifts his arms again, I pull the tank-top up and off his body, and again that delicious fucking armpit is right in my face. This time I can’t stop myself. I growl like a dog and I just nuzzle right on in that musky pit.  The fresh sweat and fur and his natural smell is such a turn on, I want more and more.  “Oh my gosh, Tyler!” he exclaims. 

    “rrf mmmrf rrrrmmf!” I say back, my face snuggled into his armpit, loving that warm animal sexy part of his body. 

    Now Eddie is naked in my arms, except for that red underwear with the big bulge and the wet spot.  I reach down and slide those down, and his dick pops free at last, the head shining wet with precum in the light of the flames.  Together we slide the underwear off, and Eddie is now completely naked head to toe, as he lays back in my arms.  I stroke his nice meaty dick and gently squeeze out a few drops of the precum and bring my fingers to my tongue, tasting it. “Mmm, nice” I say. 

    Eddie smiles, runs his hands over his own naked body, stares into the fire then back up at my smiling face, and he shakes his head in astonishment.  “I just – I can’t believe this is happening.”

    I grin and put a hand over his mouth and hold it there.  “Shhh.  Less thinking. More doing.” 

    We kiss and kiss some more, it’s so fucking delicious, and then he says “Now I want to get you naked.” 

    I tell him to put another log on the fire first.  “And really show me that butt, when you do.”  His eyes light up mischievously and he goes to do it. He arches his bare-naked ass up in the air, spreading it, and I am so fucking turned on.  The ass muscles on him are so big and round and well developed and beautiful.  And in the middle, waiting for me, is that tender pink hole surrounded by the most perfect circle of dark hair, some of it ringed in tiny little curls. 

    I don’t hesitate, I lunge forward and I put my face in that beautiful butt.  “Oh!!” Eddie exclaims – he wasn’t expecting this.  I grab onto his hips and ass and I squeeze and play with the muscular cheeks. I spread them, burrowing my face into the center. Fuck, my dick is getting so hard in my jeans right now, I have to adjust it.  As I nuzzle my face into his butthole, I grab my belt buckle and pry it open, and unzip the jeans and let my big and growing dick get some room. I lick Eddie’s ass deeper and I inhale the scent in and it is just what I was hoping for, nice and clean, but with a hint of fresh sweat and natural musk and just the faintest hint of ass.  His most private animal smell.  Fuck yeah, so good. 

    I can’t help it, I’m a fuckin’ dirty boy when I get really turned on, and I love this.  My hands grab and pull his ass open more, and my tongue gets on up in there as deep as it can, licking, exploring, tasting, penetrating.  I’m lost in heaven up in there, in that sweet musky delicious Eddie butt, for several minutes. I can sort of hear him moaning and his hips are bucking gently, but my face and tongue and my entire focus are on this beautiful, juicy, perfect fucking hole. 

    Finally Eddie taps me with a hand and he pulls his butt off my face, and I realize, oh jesus, his face and right shoulder were right up next to the fire this whole time. His whole face is a hot flushed rosy-red and his eyes are wide and dazed and his forehead and temples are dripping sweat.  “Ha, sorry about that” I say.

    “No, it’s ok, just… that was really intense heat on my face, and your tongue doing that to me… oh my god, I… I just, I need to lie down for a minute.”  I reach over and grab a can of soda and pop it open, and we both drink some.  I wipe his face gently with his shirt, and we kiss again between sips of soda. 

    I’m still clothed, and Eddie has had a few minutes of rest and recovery. Now he moves to open his present.  We slide off my jeans, shirt, underwear, everything, a lot faster than I did his.  In half a minute I’m buck naked and my big swinging dick is in full view. Eddie stares at it. “Wow, that’s something.”  I smile, ‘Yep.”  It’s not insanely huge but it is good sized, about 7.5 to 8 inches long and very thick. 

    Eddie looks me over, and there are several tattoos across my upper body and two of them can only be called ‘bad-decision tattoos’ –  they’re permanent on me, and there is no defending them.  But he’s too kind to say a thing about those.  He just says “You’re in great shape, Tyler.  Looking all healthy and fit.  I was wondering, I mean… I know you had a bad time, a while back.”

    I smile.  “Sobriety, clean living, man.  It really works! Been hitting the gym again, 4 times a week since mid September.”

    Eddie gets a thoughtful, almost emotional look in his eyes.  He says softly “I’m so glad you made it through”, and he leans in to kiss me again.  There is a real tenderness to this kiss, and we roll onto the carpet together in a deep embrace, kissing and kissing, getting more and more intimate with our bodies and what we’re both feeling inside. 

    I realize in this moment, I want to fuck him so bad.  I will use a condom, but I privately want to be inside him without one.  I want that so fucking bad, right now.  I roll our naked bodies over and he’s resting on top of me, before the fire. I put both my hands on that beautiful round butt of his, kneading it gently like dough.  “Fuck, I cannot get enough of this butt”, I say as we kiss and our hands are all over each other.  “Get as much as you want” he says.   

    There’s a look in Eddie’s deep brown eyes, and I recognize what it is: he has been needing this, needing to feel desired.  His ex Jason probably stopped having this kind of real hungry sex with him quite a while ago.  And Eddie never cheated, so this with me right now is the first time in months, maybe even longer, that anyone has been this full of lust for him and acting on it.  Wow.  This, what we are doing, is really fucking important for Eddie, the more that I think about it.  It makes me want to try even harder to please him, to go for the best I can deliver.

    I decide to just “go there” about HIV. 

    I kiss him softly, and keep my hands on that beautiful butt.  I say, “Listen, Eddie. I want to be inside you.  I want it real bad right now. So I want to tell you, my HIV status. It is positive but undetectable. I just got tested again a month ago, but I’ll definitely use a condom, assuming you want me to.”

    Eddie stays quiet for a moment.  Then he says “Well… this is interesting.  We could use a condom or we could trust the science.”

    I look up into his face and ask what he means. 

    “In September, when Jason wanted the open relationship thing and I discovered all the sex he was having, I also learned he’d gone on PREP.  You know, Truvada. Jason was taking it, or he said he was.  But who really knows, I mean, he was lying about so much other stuff, I had no idea what was true anymore and I still don’t, so… even though we were barely having sex anymore, I decided to go on it myself as well. Just in case.”

    I kiss his lips lightly.  “So… you’re on it now?”

    “Yeah.  Got my own prescription and started taking it, two months ago.”

    “So… what do you want to do?”

    Eddie smiles back down into my face, as my hands keep caressing and squeezing his ass.  “What do *you* want to do?”

    I say  “Honest?  What I want…. OK, what I want is to feel you, feel the inside of you. But that’s me being selfish because it would feel so fuckin’ good for me.  I want to only do that if you think you’ll feel OK and not worried about it afterward.  Like, what will you think tomorrow or the next day.  I’ve got enough information, my understanding is I wouldn’t transmit any HIV right now even if I wanted to, the level is undetectable as of mid December and it was undetectable in October too.”

    Eddie kisses me again and says “I’m on PREP, taking it every day.  It was made for this kind of moment… and I’m going to the trouble of taking it.  And I want you inside me. I want it so much.”

    “So… trust the science?”

    “Trust the science.”  Eddie pauses for a moment. “Wow.. we’re gonna do this.  We are actually gonna do this.”  He is almost in awe as he says the words.  He kisses me again, softly.  He says “I’ll be back in a few. I need to freshen up” and winks at me and gets up, and walks naked down the hall and up the stairs to his bathroom.  I watch that sexy bare butt dancing on each step as he goes up the stairs.

    I lay back in wonder, too, and I reach forward to throw another log onto the fire.  I lazily start stroking my dick, I want Eddie to see it big and rock hard when he comes back down the stairs.  And I’m feeling kind of moved now, because ever since I got sober I’ve been 100% honest about my HIV status, but this is the first time I really cared about the other person this much.  It means something kind of deep to me, too, what we are about to do.

    Eddie comes down five minutes later, buck naked and sexy as before, and he stands there staring down at me.  I’m sprawled across the carpet and slowly stroking my big thick dick, it’s standing up hard and erect on its own.  The fire is crackling and warm behind me.  He stands before me and the fireplace and says “Oh my god… I want to take a picture of this.”  He doesn’t, though.

    He comes to me and kneels down next to me and his mouth begins to make love to my dick. I mentioned Eddie has good lips for kissing.  It turns out they are just as good for cocksucking as well.  I’m in a state of bliss pretty soon.  He gives me the deepest, hungriest, juiciest, warm wet blowjob, and I almost come in his mouth.  But he wraps a hand around the base of my dick and says “not yet” with a smile.  The flames continue to dance, the warmth continues to spread across our naked and horned-up bodies.

    We get into a position on the carpet, kind of “side-saddle” where I’m wrapped around Eddie from behind, and my dick is nudging along his butt.  I find his hole and press the thick head of my dick up against it and I press.  It’s tight at first, but then wow, he really did prepare, whatever he did upstairs.  After that initial tightness, his hole yields to me and I just slide right on in, nice and thick and lubricated and snug. I’m in.  Eddie softly cries out “oh fuck! Tyler, fuck!” and he holds onto my arms that are hugging him from behind.  I’m almost all the way in there, deep.  I press my hips into him more, and now my dick goes even deeper in, all the way, that last full inch.  I feel my pelvis pressing direct against his butt, and I know my entire dick is deep in him now.

    “Ohhh!  Stay there, just stay still right there” he begs me, his warm insides trying to adjust to my thick dick.  I do, I just stay still, deep in him, then I start rocking in and out of him just a little, as gently as I can.  “…ohhhh…” he keeps purring, holding onto me.  I hold him tighter in my arms and I kiss his neck and ear. 

    I whisper low and soft into his ear, as my dick moves gentle and thick inside him. “Eddie, fuck, I want this… Yeah, Eddie…. you sexy fuck.”  I thrust deep and slow into him, rhythmic. “… uh huh, that’s it…. Yeah… fuck, open it up for me babe…“ I feel his ass muscles soften even more and relax around my dick.  Accepting me, fully, inside him. Goddamn, this is so fucking hot, the feeling of him opened up for me, allowing me all the way deep inside him like this.  I start to move in and out, more movement, but still gentle at first. 

    And I start to fuck Eddie, deepening and intensifying the pace just a little more. I’m kissing his earlobe and his neck and shoulder with more and more hunger.  Fuck, I want to give it good to this beautiful man, and I want to cum inside him.  I suddenly realize I am so fucking turned on I could lose control and shoot right now.  So I slow down for a moment, and hold him more tenderly in my arms, fucking him more gently, but with longer strokes.  Really pulling almost all the way out, pausing to let him feel the absence of my dick, then slowly driving it all the way back in. 

    This starts to drive Eddie wild with lust.  He cries out crazy little sounds I never thought I’d hear him make.  I fucking love that.  I just keep pulling my big thick dick back on out of him, and then slowly fucking him all the way back deep in there again.  Out…. In, all the way in….. then slowly back Out…. then In, in, more, yeah, ALL the way in…… and Eddie just loving every sensation, deep inside, loving what I’m doing to him.

    As I fuck him like this, my hands caress his chest, and our bodies are now warm and wet, glistening with sweat from the heat of the fire in front of us.  I keep fucking Eddie, a little faster now, and my hands play with his warm sweaty chest muscles. My fingertips grab and pull on one of his nipples as I fuck him deep, and he goes “UUHHH!” louder than ever.  He cries out as I plow him relentlessly, holding his whole body in my arms as we rock and fuck. I keep on delivering thrust after thrust, balls deep inside him, my fingertips tugging and twisting on his sweaty little nipples, and he is just bucking wildly on me now and babbling with lust, “oh my GOD Tyler, yes, oh shit yes, oh, OHH, oh my GOD oh my GOD, ohhhhh, FUCK, FUCK!” 

    This turns me on even more, and I start really grabbing onto those nipples, both of them, and twisting them, flicking them, torturing them lightly as my whole body starts really slam-fucking deep into him.  Eddie is losing control of himself at this point, he’s whimpering and crying like a crazed animal and his ass goes even more wide open than ever, I really feel it now.  A raw possessive urge fires up in me as I hug him tight and fuck him deep and hard: this hot fucking man is MINE, he’s all mine, mine, MINE.  I keep fucking him stronger and stronger, more and more force, my  back and butt and leg muscles are all flexing so hard with every thrust.  My fingers grab and toy with his erect little nipples as I power-fuck him, and my mouth hungrily sucks the delicious fresh salty sweat from his neck. 

    Finally Eddie’s hips buck even more and he makes a deep groan and I realize, holy fuck, I’m making him cum right now, hands-free!  I fuck him with all I’ve got and BOOM, I’m exploding deep inside him, jet after jet of my semen shooting deep up in that warm juicy inside of him.  Eddie’s whole body is gently thrashing in my arms, his hips bucking and grinding deep on my dick as his own orgasm rides on and on all over him.  I’m coming hard too, holding Eddie so close and tight, and I keep piston-fucking him deep. I can feel my dick still ejaculating just a bit more, just a bit more. My lungs are gasping for deep breaths.

    We hold each other and just feel the heat between us and all around us, and my dick still hard deep inside him. We breathe together and I realize Eddie is softly crying.  I whisper “you OK?” and he just nods and nods, and sobs and sobs.  He’s having some intense kind of moment.  I just hold Eddie tight, still deep inside him, and my hands gently caress his hot sweaty shoulders and I want to whisper in his ear, but I don’t know why he’s crying.  So I just stay silent and hold him, my dick still deep in him, slowly going soft now.

    Finally he laughs and takes one of my hands from his chest to his face, kisses it, and says “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I think it’s just… like, everything.”  He says he hasn’t had an orgasm like that in years. And that until now, he hasn’t really felt sexually desired since he moved into this house. 

    I say it was exceptional for me too, and I tell Eddie it was by far the best sex I’ve ever had since I got sober.  I tell him how the 2015 version of me in New York City would not have believed my body could ever generate this much ecstasy inside me without drugs – but it did, it all came from inside me, naturally.  And I tell Eddie that this is also the first time I had a responsible open conversation about HIV with a sexual partner, and then we got to have this amazing kind of sex right afterward. 

    Then, to my surprise, tears well up in my own eyes, and now I start to cry.  My turn.  And it doesn’t stop.  I just hold onto Eddie’s body, feeling him, and breathing in our heat and sweat and the woodsy smell of the fire, and I keep sobbing and sobbing.

    And then I say, like Eddie did, “Me too, fuck –  don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just, everything.”  And my tears will not fucking stop. I cry and cry like that for five long minutes, holding onto him like my life depended on it.  I have not cried like that in a long time, considering everything I’ve been through.

    Finally my own tears calm down, my body softens and relaxes deeply, and Eddie laughs and says “Come upstairs with me, we need a shower.”

    The rest of the night is more of a blur but I remember the shapes of it.  We showered together and I gave Eddie some post-sex bathroom privacy, LOL.  We ate more Thai food.  Then we fucked again, at midnight, with the TV on, as they showed the Times Square ball falling.  We did it, we drove 2016 into the past, and I was sliding deep into Eddie when the TV announcers officially welcomed in 2017. 

    We cuddled and cuddled, and had an interesting heart to heart conversation about sex and love, and how maybe we can just try something in between if we both want more. “Friends with benefits” or “fuck buddies”, but with more real love feeling, maybe, if it’s there.

    Eddie invited me to come back over next weekend. Or maybe even Wednesday night.

    And then, Eddie and me, we slept cuddled together on blankets on the carpet, in front of the dying fire, and when we woke up together there at 7am, I very gently fucked him again.  That third time, neither of us came.  Neither of us wanted or needed to. It was more like we just could not stop fucking, slowly… doing it just to do it. Just for the feeling of wanting more. Mmmm, yeah.  Just one more round of that connection and sensation, me-inside-him. 

    Finally I had to get myself together and shower and clean up again, eat something, put my clothes back on, and hug and kiss Eddie goodbye and get in my car at 10am and drive to work.

    2017, my friend, you are off to a fucking great start.  Be good to me.  Be good to Eddie.  Thank you.


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  • Fist of Gold

    I think it was the rumble of the engines of the Air France S.O.30 Bretagne commercial airliner flying into African airspace, reaching out for a landing in Bamako, Mali, that brought up the memory as I dozed. Or maybe it was my returning to Africa for the first time since departing from Morocco for the Anzio Invasion eight years previously. Or the images surfaced by looking at the animated slender hands of the Italian businessman sitting beside me. Of maybe it was all three.

    The rumble was the sound of the German tanks grinding by too close to us as we hid beside the road. And the chatter was Tony, another GI of Italian origin, egging me on to rise from our hiding place when the tanks were abreast of us. “Come on, Lieutenant; they won’t be able to see us from inside those tin cans,” I heard him saying, waving his hands in front of me. The sound of someone standing in the aisle of the plane, opening and closing a briefcase in the overhead bin–snap, snap, snap–translated into the machinegun fire that mowed us both down.

    After that I was in an entirely different world, a world of white and red and moaning and pain. A hospital ward in Naples. Of pain and more pain–in my thigh and torso and shoulder–and the maddening repeat of “You were the lucky one,” when I damn well knew that Tony wasn’t the lucky one if I was still alive and he wasn’t. And of Miranda, the nurse, with smiles and encouragement, laughter, cheery English accent, and kisses and more when I regained my mobility. And of Tom, the orderly, understanding, flirting in his own way. The Australian Tom of the “No worries” at my involuntary hardening during the bed baths and massages. Tom of the slender, relief-giving hand. Tom of the magic hand and introduction of the fist.

    “What river is that down there?”

    “Excuse me?” I asked, coming out of my remembrance doze.

    “Oh, sorry. Were you asleep?”

    “Just dozing,” I answered. “What did you ask?” He was a handsome man. Maybe in his forties. Dark and sensual looking, the graying sideburns only adding to his attractiveness. Trim, but well muscled, expensive Italian suit–and those slender, expressive hands with the long, groomed fingers. He had a hand on my thigh as he leaned over to look out of the window. It was all so casually done, but it was as if he knew I wouldn’t mind having it there–or higher even. We had eyed each other as early as the departure lounge in Paris, and I’d felt a jolt of electricity go up my spine when I saw that we would be first-class seatmates.

    “I asked if you knew what river that was down there.”

    “It’s the Niger. We’ll use it as a landmark as we fly into Mali and land at Bamako.”

    “Oh. Have you been here before? Do you have business in Mali? Sorry, my name is Antonio Corti. I’m a mining engineer. Here on business. My first time here.”

    “Kyle Kendrick,” I answered. “I’m an archeologist, here to consult on a Mali Empire dig. And, no I haven’t been to Mali before. I was in Morocco a few years past.”

    “The Mali Empire? There’s history here?”

    “Oh, yes, there was quite a powerful empire here–based on the gold trade–for a good eight hundred years starting about AD 800. Not my specialty. But my former professor at Oxford believes there are enough similarities with the Incas and what he’s found here for me to be useful.”

    “Oxford? But you’re not English, are you? Or French?” He was giving me a warm smile. He’d taken his hand off the top of my thigh, but it lay against the side of the thigh on the low console between us, the fingers spread out against my leg. I looked down at the hand, and so did he. He didn’t take it away and I made no move to move my thigh away from it. I knew he was signaling, and I strongly suspect he knew that I knew.

    When I didn’t move my thigh away, I was signaling too.

    I smiled back. What can I say? He was a handsome man, with slender, expressive hands. Even though Miranda and I knew the score between us and what both of our preferences were, when I was at her family’s country estate in York and even more at the family townhouse in London, I was on a pretty tight leash. I was in the wild of Africa now, and I’d come when Sir Geoffrey Bentham, my mentor at Oxford, had called because of what he had been to me and had initiated me in. I had come for more of an adventure than consulting on an archeological dig on the banks of the Niger forty miles outside of Bamako.

    I keyed in on this man’s signals because I had been revved up for it since I’d received Geoffrey’s letter of invitation.

    The fingers of his hand spread and acquired more pressure. I moved my thigh into them, thus spreading my legs a bit. I looked at his hand again, then up into his face, and, finally, lowered my eyes, dipping my head a bit. A signal of submission. His grip tightened in recognition of my acquiescence.

    “No, I’m American. My graduate studies were at Oxford.”

    “Ah, American. I see that you have a cane and walked with a limp when you climbed the stairs into the plane. A war wound, perhaps?”

    “Yes,” I answered.

    “Does it–?”

    “It doesn’t keep me from functioning in any way I want,” I answered, anticipating the question.

    “Good,” he said, moving his had to on top of my thigh. Again, I permitted him that intimacy. It was enough to signal that I’d permit him other intimacies, should the opportunity arise. He was signaling domination. He was a top.

    “I was in Southeast Asia–Thailand–for the duration of the war,” he said. “I’m Italian, from Brindisi,” he added.

    He wanted me to know he wasn’t in Europe for the war. The Italians were Axis; the Americans were Allied. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d been in the Italian campaign, marching from the tip of the peninsula, at Anzio, as far as the monastery at Monte Cassino, before I was wounded and taken to Naples, where my war ended. We had bombed the shit out Monte Cassino, an Italian historical treasure. He wouldn’t want to know that. I picked up the hand he had laying on my thigh and gently squeezed the fingers together with my hand, running my fingers over the span of the knuckles.

    Another signal–a very special signal. I wondered if he would recognize it and would still be interested. Not every man was.

    “You have very nice hands,” I said. “Slender. I’ll bet there is less than a nine-centimeter span from knuckle to knuckle.” That would be no more than three-and-a-half inches in American and British terms. I looked into his eyes, wondering again if he would pick up on, correctly interpret, and respond to the signal.

    He smiled back. “Yes, I believe the span is no wider than that. I can make that useful.”

    When I put his hand back, it was on the inside of my thigh and I closed my thighs on it. He left it there, opening and closing his grip on the inside of my thigh rhythmically.

    “Are you staying at a hotel in Bamako or heading directly to your dig?” he asked.

    “I’m being met. I have been given the option of staying the night in Bamako, though, and am tentatively booked at the Le Grand Hotel.”

    “Aren’t we all?” Corti asked, with a winning smile. “Do stay the night in Bamako. I’m sure you’ll find it very satisfactory. You’re an unusually handsome young man. I’m sure you will find the servicing at Le Grand quite satisfying. Perhaps we could take dinner together if you didn’t have other plans.”

    He’d called me a young man. He had me at that. It perhaps was for no other reason than I was within two months of losing my youth–turning thirty–that I was answering Geoffrey’s call to come to him in Mali. I was scared of what I would become after thirty. I’d always been the desirable, handsome young man. What was there after thirty?

    “Dinner would be very pleasant, if my reception party doesn’t insist I go out to the camp tonight.”

    “Ah, tonight,” Corti said, giving me another sunny smile. His hand moved up to brush my basket and then he pulled it away, both of us seeing the stewardess starting down the aisle to announce that we were descending into Bamako.

    Corti helped me descend the stairway onto the Bamako tarmac, his support as much hindrance as help, but I sensed that he wanted demonstrate possession by having an excuse to put an arm around my back, and, as long as I would get what I wanted out of him, I could feel the arousal of being the submissive.

    Geoffrey had written me that I wouldn’t have any trouble identifying the reception party at the airport, and he was right. He’d already told me that he’d hired Mandinka tribesmen for the dig because of their long association with the area and unbroken line of connection the Mali Empire. I’d looked the name up to discover that, along with the Masai of Kenya, the Mandinka were the tallest peoples on earth, ranging up to seven feet tall. Two ebony men, looking very dignified and swathed in cloth, stood head and shoulders above everyone else in the reception hall. I knew even before I saw the sign with “Kendrick” on it that the taller of the two–reaching possibly six feet ten inches–was holding up that they had come for me.

    They were handsome creatures in their own way. Seemingly beanpoles, with elongated features, until you stood next to them and found that they were as muscular as most men–just that everything was stretched out.

    The taller of two, and obvious leader, identified himself as Tejon Darany. He was quite dignified of carriage–and reserved, although perfectly civil. He spoke impeccable English. His French also probably was impeccable, but since mine wasn’t, I couldn’t assess him on that. The other, shorter–if something around six feet eight could be considered shorter–and younger man was identified only as Modibo. He spoke no English and only broken French, so our exchanges were awkward, brief, and rare. He obviously was under the wing of Tejon, as he looked to the older tribesman in all matters and only shyly at me. Of the two, he was the more handsome in Western terms, but these two men were so exotic that I couldn’t think of them in Western terms.

    Tejon didn’t seem the least bit upset when I told him I wanted to extend my touch with civilization by spending my first night in Mali at Le Grand Hotel. He said that he and Modibo had places they could stay and families they could visit that evening, and, with very little other verbal exchange, he drove me to the hotel in a dusty Land Rover and said they would pick me up there at 10:00 the next morning.

    * * * *

    I was huffing and puffing–but in seventh heaven, albeit its pain wing–as Corti’s knuckles rubbed against the rim of my ass entrance. He’d taken several minutes getting to this point, aided by gobs of the vegetable grease lubricant I had gotten from a market near the hotel. We were both naked and stretched out against each other on my hotel bed–on rubber matting I’d also found in the market.

    Corti’s body was beautiful, which speeded my arousal, and his quick erection indicated he was pleased with mine, as well. He had the olive skin of Mediterranean climes and was covered with an arousing pattern of curly black hair that swirled around his nipples and descended into his neatly trimmed pubic bush. The curly hair covered his forearms and thighs as well and curled in his pits, also neatly trimmed. Everything about his body spoke of grooming to accentuate his beauty. His body was thick and muscular, more of a Zeus than an Apollo–promising the experience of a mature man. And experienced he was; he didn’t bat an eye about giving me the servicing and release that I sought.

    He had started slow, sensually, running his hands over my body as we lay stretched out against each other when we were naked. He kissed and fondled my body, spending considerable time on the puckered bullet wounds on my thigh, torso, and shoulder. He wanted to know the circumstance of them, but of course I couldn’t give him the specifics, so, instead, I murmured, “I want you to fuck me and then give me what I want. Then I’ll give you whatever you want. Don’t make me wait.”

    He didn’t make me wait. His hands went to my thighs, coaxing them apart, pressing my legs to bend, my feet to go flat on the surface of the bed, and my pelvis to roll up, as he entered me with three fingers–I ached for more–and slowly pumped me to shuddering and begging for his cock. And then he rolled over on top of me, entered me strongly, deeply, thickly and took me quickly and efficiently.

    After we had rested, he held me close into his body, with a towel-covered bolster under the small of my back that elevated my pelvis. My right leg was bent and pressed into his chest. His left arm was embracing my torso; his lips were possessing mine in a tongue-down-the-throat kiss. I was gripping his left shoulder with my right hand and beating myself off with my left. He had four fingers and the thumb of his right hand inside me, moving them in and out, searching for, finding, and giving attention to my prostate.

    He asked no question about what to do to arouse and please me. He’d obviously fisted men before.

    “Please be careful,” I murmured. “I want it, but I have my limits.”

    “Limits we must both respect and challenge,” he whispered, “for therein lies the pleasure for us both.” He pulled his hand back and then pressed in again. I arched my back and moaned.

    I jerked my mouth away from his, arched my head back, and gave a little cry of “Shit!,” then “Fuck!” and then another and another, as the knuckles of his slender hand breached my rim and his fist was inside me and bunched to stretch my passage to the limit. He expanded and contract the fist, a knuckle pressed into my prostate. Expand, contract. I dug my fingernails into his biceps. “Oh, god,” I moaned. He stifled further exclamations and sobs by taking my lips in his. Expand, contract. I involuntarily tried to pull away from him, but he held me too tightly. Expand and move a fraction deeper. I tore my mouth away from his, arched my head back, and cried out to the ceiling. “Oh, fuckin’ shit!” I shot my load, and he pulled his knuckles back out of my ass almost immediately. He had known exactly what to do to give me the maximum pain-pleasure in my ejaculation.

    He held me there, in his arms, holding my eyes with his. “Is that the way you want it?” he murmured.

    “That was . . . it,” I whispered, being at a loss for what to say. Never had I been so much on the edge, crossing into the divine, as with that. He was a master of the art.

    “Well, here it comes again,” he growled, holding me tight, as I writhed under him and began to pant in response to the pressure of the fist.

    Afterward, we kissed deeply again, and when he pulled away from me, he murmured, “And now may I take my pleasure of your body.”

    “Of course,” I responded. “I think I am too weak to resist anything you do now anyway.”

    He laughed.

    “Are there any limits now to what I can do with you?”

    “Try me,” I answered.

    He did–effectively, efficiently, totally, and exhaustingly into the dark of the night. He made me feel young and flexible again.

    Before he left in the first streaks of light before dawn, he told me how long he would be in Bamako and where he could be reached.

    “If it becomes convenient, I would like to use you again,” he said.

    “I would like that too,” I responded. Normally I would think that his choice of “use” was a translation problem, but he had, in fact, used my body as a vessel of his methodical, efficient lust, and I had come twice more for him before he was finished. That he had used my body seemed to be a perfect description that I could not object to or complain about. I had certainly used his hand to get myself off on. Everything after that was icing on the cake.

    * * * *

    “I didn’t see your dig reported anywhere. And I looked in a lot of media sources for it.”

    It was evening and we’d had dinner out under the stars. It looked like we were going to be doing a lot of things under the stars. There were tents, in two circles, but except for the communal tents and Sir Bentham’s, they didn’t look too commodious. We–Geoffrey Bentham; his French colleague, Perrin Tolbert; and I–were sitting around a fire pit in the circle of our tents and the communal ones. The Mandinka workers were in the circle of tents that met our circle at a tent assigned to Tejon Darany. Tejon and Modibo were still in our circle, passing out after-dinner drinks and cigars. The rest of the Mandinka were in their circle. Drums were softly playing, matched by low chanting by male voices. Some of the tents were lit up internally, casting shadows through thin material of what was inside. All very atmospheric. I was in Africa. The sky overhead was a cobalt blue, the stars seemingly suspended just a few feet over our heads.

    “I should hope to God you didn’t see mention of this dig–or tell anyone you’re coming here,” Bentham blustered. “This is really hush hush. There are few in the Mali government who know about it either.”

    Bentham was sitting within fondling distance of me, which I sort of expected him to have gotten around to doing before now. He was my dominating top when I was at Oxford after the war. And he was a power top with perhaps the biggest dick in England. He had to fist me just to be able to screw me later.

    But I had to admit that the last five years, since I’d seen him last, hadn’t been kind to him. He was gaunt and looked emaciated. And he had a wildness about his eyes and spoke more rapidly than I’d known him to do before–like he was on borrowed time. How old would he be now, I wondered. Funny that I hadn’t wondered about that when we were together in Oxford. He’d said a few times then that he was twice my age. But now it seemed like maybe that was off, like he was more than twice my age. He looked well into his late sixties now.

    But then, maybe he was waiting for the others–the Mandinka servants and his colleague, Tolbert–to leave us before he became intimate with me.

    “So, what is it about this dig that’s so secret and important, Geoffrey?” I asked. “I trust that, since it’s close to the river, the site is buried.”

    “Tejon, go fetch the treasure box, please. Then you and Modibo may retire,” Bentham said. Then he turned to me. “You’ve heard of the writer named Rihlah, haven’t you, Kyle?”

    “I believe so. The Arab who traversed northern Africa early in the fourteenth century and wrote of his travels.”

    “The same. He wrote of a Temple of Kongoba, but although there is a village by the name–just over the hill there–no one but he wrote about a temple.”

    “And you have found the temple site?”

    “The site, yes, but I don’t think it actually was a temple. More of a storehouse. I don’t think the Malian guides leveled with him when he asked what the edifice was.”

    “Storing what?”

    “What is Mali famous for? What was its leading trading good during the Mali Empire? Do you know?”

    “You think that gold was stored at this Kongoba site?”

    “Not was. Is. Ah, thank you, Tejon. I’ll just show our colleague here what we have and then you can take it back.”

    Bentham opened the rectangular box that was more than a foot long and took out a solid gold rod. It was nearly a foot long, an inch and a half wide up the base, and a good three inches or more at the bulb.

    “A dildo?” I said, with a laugh. “Is this a supersized phallus?”

    “A dildo perhaps,” Bentham said, smiling, “but look again. You of all people should recognize what it is.”

    I drew in my breath. It wasn’t a phallus at all. It was a stylized arm rising up into a fist.

    “Is that?” I asked with a stammer.

    “Yes, I believe this is an ancient dildo in the form of an arm and fist,” Bentham said. “Tejon thinks so too. There are rituals among the Mandinka that go back to that era. They are, as you can see, an outsized race–outsized in nearly every way. Many of their rituals were sexual. Thank you, Tejon. You and Modibo can retire now.”

    I watched the two, swathed in billowy cloth, walk to Tejon’s tent. Bentham had said they were outsized in every way and my mind was savoring what that could mean. Not in every way, I would have said. As with all men, I had assessed the knuckle span of both of the Mali tribesmen when they had met me at the plane. Both had slender hands and were within my tolerances.

    I watched them go into the tent and one of them light a lantern and illuminate the interior of the tent, making it a form of shadow play as their figures moved about the tight space, both of them having to bend over for head clearance.

    “Where did you get the gold object?” I asked. I thought it would be unprofessional to refer to it as a dildo, although that quite obviously was what it was.

    “Where do you suppose? Right here, where we’re digging. This could be from the golden trove of the Mali Empire.” He had put his arm around me, and a hand went to my thigh. I looked over at the Frenchman, and he was watching us. “I wanted to share this discovery with you, Kyle,” he said, and then he brought my head in for a kiss.

    Tolbert had his eyes on us but didn’t flinch. Of course he would have been told what Bentham and I had been to each other.

    I opened my lips to him. I wouldn’t deny Geoffrey anything he wanted of me. He was my mentor, my first serious lover. A man with a cock that filled me to near bursting. A man who knew how to use his fist.

    “I’ve missed you, Geoffrey,” I whispered when he’d released my lips and I’d immediately kissed him back to signal total submission. He moved his hand to my basket. I was happy to be able to show him that I was hard for him.

    “How is it with Miranda?” he asked gently.

    “Oh, you know Miranda. It’s much like always. Affectionate in public. Beyond that, you’d have to ask Veronica.”

    “She’s still with Veronica?”

    “Yes,” I answered. I didn’t have to guard my voice from bitterness. I was glad Miranda had someone and mostly left me alone.

    “And you, Kyle. Who are you with?”

    “I’m with you at the moment,” I said.

    “I meant back in England. Have you not found someone else? Someone who takes care of your needs?”

    “No one measures up to you, Geoffrey,” I answered, knowing he would know what I meant as well as I did.

    “It pains me to hear you say that, Kyle.”

    “I’m sorry. What do you mean by that?”

    “I’m old and I’m sick, Kyle. I couldn’t get it up anymore no matter what drug I took. I was hoping that you had found someone who satisfied you. I didn’t want you coming down here thinking that that was why I sent for you.”

    A man that satisfied me? I was satisfied last night. But that was just a transient Italian. Neither one of us talked about anything that wasn’t fleeting and casual. And damn right I’d come down here expecting more–what I’d gotten before–from Geoffrey Bentham. Why else would I come to a place like Mali?

    “I asked you to come down so that you could be in on this find with me–so that you could benefit from it. It’s all I can leave you Kyle. But I invited Perrin down too. I think you’ll enjoy him.”

    I looked over at the Frenchman. He indeed was a hunk. Maybe thirty-five. Old enough to control and teach me a move or two. But I had looked at his hands earlier in the evening. I always look at the hands of a man who attracted me. The two Mandinka tribesmen, Tejon and Modibo had elongated, slim hands, in keeping with the elongated nature of the rest of their bodies that I had viewed. The Frenchman’s hands were broad, at least four, maybe more, inches across at the knuckles. I could never . . .

    But then, at Geoffrey’s signal, Tolbert was bringing his chair over close to mine, on the other side from Geoffrey. Also at this point, I realized that there was something going on in Tejon’s tent. The two figures, made quite clear in silhouette by the lantern light, were standing close together. They just now were pulling the last of the billowy cloth off each other’s bodies. They looked like stick figures, even though I knew they both were well muscled. They seemed to be moving to the rhythm of the drums and chanting of the other tribesmen in the other circle too, and I realized that the tent would be as much a shadowbox from the other side as from this one.

    The two came together in an embrace and a kiss and then Modibo’s body–identifiable because he was shorter–arched back and Tejon went down on his knees, while supporting Modibo’s body in standing with an arm around the young native’s waist. It was clear that Tejon was giving Modibo head and helping him to remain steady even though arched back, his palms on the dirt floor behind him.

    It was equally clear that Perrin Tolbert, bent over my lap, had unbuttoned me, taken my cock out, and was giving me head. Geoffrey had an arm around me and was unbuttoning and releasing my shirt with the other hand. He sucked on my nipples while Tolbert sucked on my cock.

    Was this some sort of double ritual, I wondered. But I was too taken up with it to wonder much.

    Geoffrey leaned down and pulled my shorts and briefs off my legs.

    Modibo was on his back on a cot and for the briefest moment I saw the shadow of a monster cock in length standing straight up from his groin. And standing over him, stroking an even larger one, was the shadow of Tejon.

    Geoffrey and Perrin manipulated my body to where my crotch was lying across Geoffrey’s lap and my head was in Perrin’s lap, where he was offering me a quite large cock to suck. I managed to turn it, though, to where I could watch the shadow scene in the tent.

    Tejon wasn’t fucking Modibo–at least not yet. Modibo’s left leg was on Tejon’s right shoulder and his right leg was bent. His pelvis was raised off the leverage of his right foot, and Tejon’s left arm was extended down to Modibo’s pelvis. He was fist fucking Modibo. The music from the other circle was becoming more frenetic.

    I could feel Geoffrey’s fingers at my ass entry. They were heavily greased. He was working his hand into my ass.

    I cried out as his knuckles breached my rim. My cry was accompanied by one in the tent, where Tejon must have gained his own entry. I panted hard and sucked hard on Tolbert’s cock as Geoffrey started to move his hand inside my ass. Expand, release. Expand, release. Working me almost as expertly as the Italian had.

    Then I saw in the tent that Modibo was holding up an object in his right hand. It was the Fist of Gold Geoffrey had shown me earlier. His left hand came out of Modibo’s ass, and the right arm went down. I watched the gold fist enter Modibo and the young native writhe, crying out as it rhythmically fucked him. I writhed and cried out as Geoffrey fist rhythmically fucked me too. Expand, release.

    Modibo and I came nearly simultaneously and the music in the tribal circle beyond stopped abruptly and Geoffrey withdrew his hand. The light went out in the tent. I saw no more, as Tolbert rose from his chair, pulled me up, threw me over his shoulder, and marched me to my tent.

    In my tent, Tolbert threw me down on my back on my cot, slapped my legs apart, and came down between them. He thrust his huge cock into my ass, reached up to grab my wrists and force my arms over my head, latched his lips on mine, and banged me hard into heaven and the next day.

    * * * *

    “Are you all right?” Geoffrey was looking at me over his glasses the next morning as we ate at a table by the fire pit, the embers of which still glowed red under the gray ash. “I hope that last night wasn’t too–”

    “I only wish that it had been just you and me. It was OK because you put me in the mood before Tolbert fucked me.”

    “I’ve done what I can by you, Kyle,” Geoffrey said. “I can’t help it if there’s not much I can do anymore. I’m afraid not being able to get, let alone sustain, an erection has completely stifled my libido. I can only approach feeling sexual pleasure in watching others now. I did obtain pleasure from watching Perrin fucking you last night.”

    “I was happy to please,” I said, taking a big bite of the fried eggs Modibo had cooked up for us.

    “You wore poor Perrin out. He is still snoring away in his tent. You certainly pleased him.”

    “I was more concerned with pleasing you. I wanted to see you get better results from stroking yourself. I was performing with the Frenchmen for you. I’m sorry it didn’t happen. You had gotten half hard, I could see, with the little ritual Tejon and Modibo performed in the tent.”

    “Yes, that almost did it for me. I would like to do it one more time before I die.”

    “You sound morose about that. Surely you’re not dying, are you? I know you don’t look well, but–”

    “Yes, Kyle. I’m afraid I am dying. I’ve been given just a few more months. I’m not sure I can hold on even that long.”

    “Then why this?” I asked after a few moments of silence to process his news. I couldn’t get all weepy, though; I knew he wouldn’t want that. He was a man of reality and acceptance. “Why spend your last few months here in the Mali Savannah rather than at Oxford, among those who respect and will honor you?”

    “I’ve never felt so alive as in the bush, at an excavation. I want to feel alive right up until I die. I’ve always felt bad about you, Kyle–about taking advantage of you and using you–and developing that fetish you have. Not being able to come without the fist before penal penetration. I believe if I just hadn’t–”

    “You liberated me, Geoffrey, and taught me how high into ecstasy I could go.” “Penal penetration.” I could have laughed if he hadn’t just given me such bad news. He always was the scientist. Only when he was in high heat could he drop that veil and be a primeval man. I had been able to do that for him at one time, though. I wished I could do it for him one time more.

    “And you did the same for me,” he was saying. “I want to leave you with something–something tangible that will support you in life. I hate seeing you controlled as you are by Miranda and her family.”

    “I didn’t exactly get kidnapped into the situation,” I said. “I want to have a comfortable life with the means to do as I like. Miranda’s leash is a long, loose one as long as I’m not in England, among her circle of friends. She knew what I came here for.”

    “Still, it’s my concern I have to reach peace with, Kyle. That’s why I want you here on this dig. It could set you up for life.”

    “Set me up for life? If there is gold here, what will we get beside recognition? This is Mali’s gold.”

    “Some part of it, yes,” Geoffrey responded. “But if my calculations are correct, there will be more than enough for those in Mali who are in the know and for those involved in the dig as well.”

    “Surely, you’re not suggesting–”

    “We really need not go into this now,” Geoffrey said, interrupting me and changing the subject. “I believe you enjoyed Tejon’s show with Modibo last night as well as I did.”

    “Very much, yes,” I answered. “If that hadn’t been transpiring when you fisted me, I don’t think I could have gone with Perrin Tolbert.”

    “Why is that?”

    “The span of his knuckles. I can’t consider a man with a span of over three-and-a-half inches. It’s just a matter of self-preservation. Just seeing how broad his hand is dampened my arousal for him.”

    “Ah, as I said, something I feel responsible for. You require a man with a big cock but a small hand. Difficult to come by.”

    “Nothing you should worry about, Geoffrey, and not all that difficult. There was an Italian on the plane coming to Bamako . . .”

    “And how long had it been before that? And didn’t you come here so eagerly because you thought I could give you relief?”

    I didn’t answer that. I turned to a sudden interest in what was left of my fried eggs.

    “What happened in Tejon’s tent last night . . .” Geoffrey said, “. . . did you not wish that was you under him, taking his fist and the Fist of Gold and his enormous cock? Do you know he’s nearly a foot long and those magic three-and-a-half inches in girth? Think of not just a bulge of that diameter inside you, but the whole length of a cock nearly a foot long filling your passage at that diameter.”

    “I must remember to tell Modibo that his eggs were delicious,” I said, not being able to look at Geoffrey. Yes, of course, I wished that it was me with Tejon the previous night. Watching them while Geoffrey and Perrin worked me over was what set me up for being able to ride the Frenchmen’s cock as wildly and for as long as I did.

    “I think . . . I think I might have been able to reach an erection and maintain it long enough to have an ejaculation if it had been you under Tejon, Kyle.” But then he sighed, murmured an, “Oh well.”

    “You want to watch Tejon fuck me? You think that may give you enough of an erection to fuck me too?”

    “You put it so baldly,” Geoffrey said. “We’ll just have to see what transpires.” Then he changed the subject. “Would you like to see for yourself the prospect of what can be found at our excavation? There’s gold just below the surface. It’s like it works its way up to us as we dig down to us. It wants to bask in the light of day.”

    “Yes, I’d like that very much,” I answered.

    “I’ll have Tejon drive you over there. Modibo will put together a picnic lunch for you.”

    * * * *

    Tejon was coaxing me to raise my pelvis up with a hand cupping my right thigh, signaling for me to bend my leg, put my foot under my knee and raise and roll my pelvis up. I knew what he wanted me to do and I did it. My left ankle was already hooked on his right shoulder. I knew why. His face was buried in the hollow of my neck. I knew he wouldn’t kiss me there or on the lips. I knew this was primeval and ritual, not affection. He was slathering my ass with vegetable grease. I knew why. I knew what he was going to do.

    We were lying in some sort of animal’s wallow next to a watering hole that had been carved out of a stand of elephant grass some six and seven feet tall, the stalks densely spaced, the stalks of the wallow underneath us. Carved out by some massive animal or animals–probably elephants. No one would know we were there unless they were flying low overhead or unless, like Geoffrey Bentham, they were crouching in the elephant grass, peering through it, watching and anticipating what Tejon was going to do to me. An enclosed world of just Tejon and me, panting, me moaning in anticipation. Geoffrey watching from behind a line of Elephant grass stalks, his heavy-hung cock out, being stroked, showing signs of life.

    I wasn’t doing this just for Geoffrey. I would have submitted to this anyway, but if there was a chance for Geoffrey . . .

    I cried out as Tejon entered me with four fingers, up to the knuckles. It wasn’t just he and I panting now; Geoffrey was sucking heavy, ragged breaths in and out and had moved closer, just a few lines of stalks between him and the wallow.

    Tejon’s thumb was thrumming my rim. I knew what he was going to do. I felt him tuck the thumb in and apply pressure. My mouth opened wide in a silent scream and I arched my head up. Looking over at Geoffrey I could see his cock beginning to stiffen. I knew what Tejon was doing; Geoffrey knew was Tejon was doing. I tensed but then, at Tejon’s command, relaxed and made a rumbling sound deep from within my belly when the knuckles breached the rim and his fist was inside me. I let out a long “Ahhhhh,” as the fingers opened and he rubbed my prostate and inner walls with his fingertips. The fist expanded, contracted. Expanded, contracted.

    A sucking noise and the feeling of profound loss as the fist pulled out of me and the drawn-out whimper as it pushed back in. Out and in. Fucking me with his fist. I knew what Tejon was doing to me. I was hard as a rock. It took great effort not to blow, but I worked at not doing so for fear that he would stop fucking me with his fist if I did.

    I had known what was going to happen as early as back in the camp when I saw the facial expressions shared between Geoffrey and Tejon before Tejon drove us off in the Land Rover. I knew also because the box housing the Fist of Gold was laying on the backseat beside the picnic hamper.

    He did take me to the dig first, and we did scrape the earth a bit. And nuggets of gold did come out of the earth. For all I knew they had been salted there to impress me and raise my enthusiasm. I needed neither. My thoughts were elsewhere–steaming ahead to where Tejon’s fist and then his cock would be inside me. And the Fist of Gold as well.

    Tejon had stripped down to a loin cloth to dig in the earth. The loin cloth left nothing to the imagination. He was longer and thicker than any man I had ever sheathed before–even Geoffrey. And he was only half hard as we dug, me down to my shorts as well. The looks he gave me told me all. The looks I gave him begged him to get on with it.

    When it came time, there was no build up, no foreplay. No request. No permission given, He simply walked over to me, put his strong hands on me, slung me over his should, and carried me into the dense elephant grass. Five feet in and it was just the two of us in the world. Twenty feet in and he could have had his way with me, murdered me, of he wanted, and I’d be missing for all time. Forty feet in was the wallow and the edge of the watering hole.

    He held me tighter and I opened my mouth in a silent scream again as he breached my rim with the thickest part of the Fist of Gold. I panted hard and let out little yip sounds as he fucked me, both shallow and deep, with the gold staff.

    I looked over at Geoffrey, whose cock was lengthening and hardening, as, through slitted eyes and licked lips, he watched Tejon fuck me with the Fist of Gold.

    When I couldn’t take it anymore, I exploded, my cum arcing up onto my chest and Tejon trumpeting a tribal victory yell. He’d been chanting in the native tongue of the Mandinka all the while he was fucking me with the Fist of Gold.

    He extracted the staff, and I had the presence of mind to lower my left leg from his shoulder, place both feet flat on the matting of elephant grass stalks, the thighs as spread as possible, and my pelvis raised as high as possible to give him a straight angle for his entry.

    I tried to regulate my breathing, relaxing my channel as much as possible to be able to take him inside me. He came between my thighs on his knees and grasped and spread my butt cheeks with his hands. I howled in pain and ecstasy as he entered me with an erection that was every bit as long as the Fist of Gold and as thick all along its length as the thickest section of the Fist of Gold. Never had I been stretched this much by a cock. Never had a cock reached so far up my channel. I turned my head toward Geoffrey, not really being able to see him for the glaze descending over my eyes. My mouth opened wide for a long, rolling howl, as Tejon began to pump me, fucking me hard and at length to his own ejaculation that flooded my passage and oozed out of my hole.

    As he withdrew, there was Geoffrey, displacing Tejon between my thighs, hard–hard enough to enter me and to fuck me in the lubricant of the heavy vegetable grease and Tejon’s cum. He only managed to stay hard for a few moments of stroking and his ejaculation was weak, but he was crying with relief and joy when he jerked and seeded me.

    He stayed inside me, flaccid, but still filling, and kissed my face, my mouth, my throat, and my nipples, muttering “Thank you, thank you” over and over again.

    * * * *

    True to his prediction, Geoffrey was dead within two months. But in that time he regularly arranged for Tejon to ravish my body with his hand, cock, and the Fist of Gold while Geoffrey watched, and twice more Geoffrey was able to harden enough to enter me and ejaculate as well. On his deathbed he declared that he was satisfied leaving life this way.

    Before he expired we managed to recover a fortune for everyone in the know of the Mali Empire gold at Kongoba. More than half of it went to a selected number of Mali officials, who were helpful in getting my share and that of the Frenchman, Perrin Tolbert, out of the country. I have no idea where Tolbert went from there and what he did. He was a sexy man, but just too wide across the knuckles. Tejon and Modibo went in together on a café in Bamako. The other Mandinka workers were delighted to maintain silence for what they received, not knowing what a small amount it was compared to the total haul.

    Geoffrey got a share of the take. There now is an extra mausoleum in the supposedly closed Holywell Cemetery, next to St. Cross Church, in Oxford, England. It seems that Mali government officials aren’t the only ones who can be bought off.

    I stayed for an extra month in Bamako after shipping Geoffrey’s body off to England and sending Miranda a note on my plans to buy into an Incan civilization excavation, where we found some gold but nothing like what we found at the Kongoba dig. What kept me in Bamako and at the Le Grand hotel was the extended stay of the Italian mining engineer Antonio Corti. He loved making love to me with the Fist of Gold and the mood it put me in to give him all that he wanted.

    I left for South America satiated if sore and not walking straight–but with the confidence that the Incan and Mali Empires had been similar enough that I’d find some distant descendants of the Incas with slender hands and big cocks that would know exactly what to do with their hands, the Fist of Gold, and their cocks.


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  • The colour of collars

    THE COLOUR OF COLLARS

    Part V

     

    Months. 

    It’s been months. Months without a word of even a single letter, threat or ‘package’ from T.S.

    I sat cross-legged on Niko’s bed taking a long look around the room. I can safely say I love his place. It isn’t only a matter of size although it is noticeably largen than my place. It’s the feel of the place. The cosiness it exudes and the warmth radiating form every wall. I earn a decent wage and my place reflects that. His place well, lets say I’d almost choked when I found out how much he earns. I should have become a skilled worker. Pays better than my current job.

    Then again there are only a few things that I can do well with my hands. Niko doesn’t complain though, quite the opposite in fact.

    I survey the bedroom again. Niko sleeps on the left side of the bed and I on the right. My clothes hang in his closet.  My shoes stand by the door. In the bathroom I have own toothbrush, shaving cream and cologne. We share the medicine cabinet. I have a workplace setup in the living room. I even do my laundry here. My undies poking out of Niko’s hamper reinforce that statement.

    When though? When had I moved in?

    It feels natural for me to be here yet I don’t think we’ve ever discussed it. Nilo’s never made an issue out of it and I’ve caught myself picturing Niko’s place when I’m thinking about ‘home’ more than once and it puzzles me.

    This is Home.

    How odd. My own apartment never felt so homey to me as much as this place did. Not that I was complaining but I wondered what Niko’s thoughts are on this. He’s not one to hide his feelings. He should be charging me rent at any rate.

    Checking the clock I see it’s almost 10 and I’m still in my sleeping shorts. Well it is Saturday and unlike Niko I had no emergency work to attend to. Speaking of which he’ll probably be home soon.

    There I said it again. Home.

    I hop out of bed and take a quick shower. Niko had been quiet as a mouse this morning,  I’ve growled at him often enough, so the fact that I’m not a morning person has been driving home. It’s the only time of day when the claws come out, maliciously that is.

    After a very relaxing yet short shower I throw on some clothes and brush my teeth. Doing so my eyes wander to the small collection of products on the shelf next to the mirror. After spitting and rincing I reach for his cologne. I uncap it and take whiff.

    Terre D’Hermes

    The scent alone makes my heart rise up. I smell it every time I bury my nose in his neck which I do as often as I can. It’s my favourite place to be. There are many things that make me feel like a lovesick fool for Niko but there are only two things I’ll always carry with me.

    Just like you can feel a kiss long after it’s been given. A particular scent can flood you with essence of a certain person. This scent will always be Niko to me.

    After I throw on some clothes I notice a pile of my dirty laundry and decide to wash them adding Niko’s to fill the machine. Once in the kitchen I make coffee and try to decide what lunch will be today. I smile to myself while I’m inspecting the contents of the fridge. I feel like a housewife awaiting her husband’s imminent arrival. I look down at my toes. I’m even barefoot, not pregnant though and not likely to be so, but still practice makes perfect!

    It’s almost noon when the door opens and slams shut. Ah, not a happy camper today it seems. I hear the dull thud of his work shoes dropping to the floor, the jingle of his keys and the rustles of his coat. Then a shuffling as he enters the kitchen and his body wrapping around mine as I stir the soup on the stove.

    “Hey Sexy.” He murmurs against the skin of my exposed neck. I relax against him and press my head back in return affection.

    “Hey. How was your appointment this morning?”

    I get an angry grunt for a reply so I’m guessing it didn’t go too well. “I love my job but I don’t always like my clients.” he grumbles still holding me tight.

    “That bad huh?”

    “This one actually sabotaged her own house so I’d come over. I swear what the hell it is with these suburban housewives! Do their husbands not take care of their needs and why do they think that my company is an escort service!”

    I laugh at his exasperation. “To think they are the wrong gender to even entice you.”

    He lets go of me and slumps next to the stove resting against the counter. “Trust me, I wish it were just women.’ He sighs popping an errand cherry tomato in his mouth from the bowl.

    I stop tiring the soup frozen, “You’re kidding?” Suddenly the situation doesn’t seem as funny anymore.

    However my reaction brings Niko out of his sour mood. “Don’t worry Sexy” he says kissing my cheek. “I’m a one man guy, always have and always will be.”

    I sheepishly grin at him averting my eyes. Good answer.

    “Have you ever slept with a client in the passed?” I shouldn’t have asked the question I knew it the second it left my lips. I should not have asked that question. He gives me a quiet studied look before answering.

    “Never on the job but did end up dating one of them for a while.”

    “Oh” Is all I manage as I keep my eyes on the soup I’m by now needlessly stiring. Niko’s arms encircle me again as he moves behind me

    “It didn’t work out which is for the best cause last I heard he’s madly in love with his now husband just like I am with you.”

    Ok, this time I’m grinning ear to ear. “Good now take a shower you need one.”

    “Yes, sir!” he quips slapping my cheeks he moves away. “I think I’ll needs some help mind.”

    “Help?” I frown watching him back away.

    “You know with those hard to reach places.” He wiggles is eyebrows and I’m about to tell him I’ve already taken a shower when I stop myself. Sometimes it takes awhile for my brain to catch up with itself. 

    Green

    Damn he’s seen me.

    Damn he’s seen me and taking notice.

    Damn he’s stopped walking. He’s thinking.

    Damn he’s crossing the street.

    Damn he’s looking good this morning.

    “Mr. Surette?” I look up from my crouch into the tall frame of Detective McAdams.

    “Good morning Detective.” I smile wiping me grubby hands clean with a rag I carry in my toolkit. I stand up from my work with the waterpumps. He’s tall I’ve always known he’s tall. Even when we sat across from each other at Aunt Clea’s kitchen table all those months ago. Standing in front of him like this though with the sun in my eyes backlighting him, he strikes nothing less but an imposing figure. “Police force keeping you busy even on a Saturday?” I smile trying to think of pleasant chitchat. Pleasant chitchat’s never been my forte. Or even general chitchat or any kind of chitchat for that matter. It that why a kitkat is named a kitkat cause you eat while you chitchat?

    Ok, where the hell did that come from?

    “Just catching up on some paperwork. Sometimes I think that all I do anymore is write reports. You on shift today I see.”

    “Usually I don’t work weekends but these waterpumps are fickle and seem to only respond to me so I get draften in when their not cooperating. Come rain or shine.” See this isn’t so difficult. Plaster on a smile, try to look as genuine as possible and maybe he’ll think I’m a regular normal person or at least human. Human would be good.

    The fact I want him to think I’m a regular normal person is a dead give away from what my actual feelings are. Those don’t see the light of day.

    He nods and for a very awkward moment silence falls between us.

    I crouch down again, anything to break this awkward moment and start to pack up my kit. “I’m done here actually. So I’m officially off duty.”

    “You free for lunch?” the question is quick and almost blurted out. 

    Surprised I look up from my crouching tiger position, his eyes as wide as mine. As if he’s startled by his own question.

    “I’m free.”

    For a moment he doesn’t seem to know how to follow up on that. 

    “I just need to drop my kit off at work first. Detective.”

    “It’s Brian when I’m off the clock.” He interjects “Where’s work? I could meet you there is you want?”

    “Tell you what? Do you know the ramen place on Mercury Street?” He nods silently. “Well it’s just around the corner from my work so how about if I meet you there in 20?”

    “Sure.”

    No more is said while I pack up and we wave a see you soon. I know my exterior is calm. I know my smile is fixed and my body language is neutral. Inside however I’m a whirl of emotions. I’m hardly holding on to my sanity and I don’t know what to do. How can I look and sound so calm when all I feel is turmoil?

    Red

    This is no big deal.

    I squeeze the steeringwheel of my car until my knuckles whiten.

    This is no big deal. This is lunch.

    I start the engine and give my full attention to the road. I’m a cop, that is what we do. Mercury street isn’t far. It’s actually just a few streets from my own apartment, I know the ramen shop. I’ve been there many times, great place. I try to concentrate on what I’ll order while pushing any of all other thoughts out of my mind.

    That’s what I am though, out of my mind. Out of my mind to walk over to Eben as I saw him working and out of my mind to strike up a conversation, I was even more mental when I asked him out to lunch.

    It had slipped out of my mouth before I’d even thought the thought. How is that even possible? I park and takes some deep breaths .

    This is no big deal Brian. This is lunch, just lunch.

    I take a quiet table out of the way inside the shop which isn’t unusual for me, I always take this table. First time though that I’ll be sharing it. I wait. It hasn’t been 15 minutes yet so I’m not surprised he hasn’t arrived.

    I shouldn’t have asked him to lunch. I shouldn’t have asked the one guy I very much wanted to ask.  This is a mistake.

    “Hey, good table.” I’m shaken out of my silent self disparagement by his voice right next to me.

    “Yeah, I always get this table far enough from the kitchen and the door to be left alone.” I babble. I don’t usually babble it’s a bad habit especially as a cop. I just shut my mouth and watch as he sits down across from me. He’s changed out of his workuniform and freshened up some. We order when the server comes by and again an awkward silence falls between us.

    God, this was a bad idea. What was I thinking! That’s just it I wasn’t thinking. 

    I check my watch to note the time,  a not so inconspicuous act so it seems.

    “Are you in a hurry?”

    “Oh no! I’m sorry that was rude of me. I have a basketball game this afternoon and was just calculating what time I have to leave to get there before it starts.”

    He perks up and I see a glimmer of genuine excitement in his eyes, even a real smile. The second that smile hits me I feel it. IA crack, a crack in my own strongly held façade. My curtain of illusion.

    “Basketball!” he chirps, yes chirps, definitely a chirp, a very chirpy chirp too. From then on the conversation flows easily. He loves basketball but doesn’t get to play often. The topic of our talk shifts as we eat to just about anything you could think of. He tells me of his work, his motorcycle about which I bombarde him with questions about and before I know it it’s already been 2 hours. Two hours of fun conversation is something I haven’t experienced in a very long time. It’s in a way relaxing, exciting an enticing all at once.

    “I’m sorry Eben, I need to get going to catch my game.”

    “Oh, of course. I’m sorry for holding you up.”

    “No!” I exclaim a little too venemently. “No, you didn’t hold me up at all. I really enjoyed our lunch.”

    “Where you playing?” He asks as we pay our bill and head out to our respective cars.

    “At the Hill Side community center. It’s just a friendly game just intramural anyone is welcome to join. In fact…” I linger again about to say something I shouldn’t but on the other hand he had expressed a longing to play again. “You’re welcome to come along if you want. That is if you haven’t planned anything else for today. We’re always short on guys to fill the teams.”

    His eyes light up yet I see hesitation. I fumble with my keys, damn I shouldn’t have asked him that. I should not have as-

    “Sure, I’ll join. Hill Side is practically around the corner from my place. I’ll grab my stuff and meet you there ok?”

    I nod but he’s already heading towards his car and I watch as he drives off. My own ride to the center happens in a daze. Ok, calm the fuck down.

    It’s just a game. It was just lunch. Nothing special. Nothing to get wound up about.

    He’s a nice guy. He seems like he’d be a great friend. You could use a great friend, Brian. You could use someone to talk to that isn’t a fish. 

    Eben enters the court already dressed in his basketball kit, he must have changed at home. I always carry my stuff with me in the car so I can change anywhere. Meanwhile I try not to stare, I really do. I try not to notice his shapely legs and firm build. I try not to notice the change in his walk, now light and airy in anticipation of the game. I try not to notice how the tanktop he’s wearing is giving his torso him a very nice definition more than any other tank I’ve ever seen. I guess there is something to the notion of covering up to enhance allure.

    I try not to, but I notice all of this.

    Whilst dividing the teams as we end up on opposite sides, the general agreement is shirts vs skins. I’m on the shirts team. A hand grabs me and drags me just outside the teams circle and Eben’s stricken face alarms me instantly. This isn’t the Eben from lunch this is an entirely different Eben. A foreign one.

    “Brian, can we change teams.” It’s more of a plea not a question.

    “Why what’s wrong?”

    “Nothings wrong, I just… I can’t be on a skins team. I just can’t.” His voice cracks, his eyes dart wildly from me to the others and back again. I’ve seen this look before, I’ve comforted, confronted and even arrested people with this look before

    Fear.

    Pure unadulterated fear. It’s taken over his whole body, quivering, he’s scared on the verge of panic.

    “Please, Brian.” He pleads once again squeezing my arm desperately. I glance the tail of a scar under the left collar bone and I think I understand.

    In this moment I have to be the other me. The façade. The strong one.

    “Ok, ok we’ll switch.” I pat his hand resssuredly before returning to the group joking with the guys coming up with some excuse to switch teams with Eben. I can’t even remember what I’d said to make it happen. Yet it happened.

    During the game the scared Eben of before disappears entirely, once more I see a different persona of Eben. He transforms on the court, he’s focused, he’s lithe and light on his feet. Flying from one basket to the other.

    When his team scores I see something which makes my façade crack again. It doesn’t crumble yet it cracks. I see glee. I see joy in his spontaneous and grandiose smile. It hits me like a bolder hitting a wall crumbling it to pieces. It makes me stop dead in my tracks and for a split second everything else simply slips away. In that split second there is only Eben, Eben with bright shining eyes and a smile that could lift the moon.

    The next second I’m flat on my back on the court, wheezing.

    You don’t freeze on a court standing in the path of an unassuming team member and stand there for very long. I look up to a hand stretched out before me. It isn’t my unassuming team member helping me up, it’s Eben. Of course it’s Eben. He pulls me up with more strength than I’d have given him credit for, then is a flash he’s off again.

    I have to give it to him. The guy sure can run.

    Green

    After the game I excuse myself from changing in the communal area. I walk home happily exhausted from the exercise of the game. We didn’t win but it didn’t matter. That kind of thing never has matter to me. I had a lot of fun playing and that’s the point of a game isn’t it. Many people don’t seem to get that.

    There was a slight look of apprehended disappointment in Brian’s eyes as I left. I can’t quite figure him out. Not that I’m any better with figuring myself out that is.

    He’s a good man. I feel close it him in some odd way. As if we’re both in the same boat, drifting rudderless in the ocean. Why is that?

    Blue

    The doorbell rings and whip my hands on a kitchen towel as I make my way from the kitchen to the hall. Some silly guy must have forgotten his keys again, I smile to myself. My smile however turns stagnant as on my doorstep I’m not looking into the chocolate eyes of the person I’m expecting.

    “Eben?”

    “Er… Hi Niko. Err… Is Max here? I.. I tried his place but he never seems to be home and Aunty said he’s probably be here … so… er…” the poor man trails off doing his best impression of anxiously  scared bunny rabbit.

    “He’s actually out right now but I’m expecting him back any moment. Do you want to wait?”

    He hesitates clearly thinking it over. Looks ready to run to be honest so I make the decision for him. Easier all round.

    “Come on get in, I’ll grab you a beer.”  I turn around before he can protest.

    I hear the door close behind me. “Actually got any whiskey in the house?” he asks. How can a man sound so utterly exhausted and not actually look it.

    “Whiskey does sound good.” Kevin remarks from the living room, surprising Eben.

    “You’ve got company? You should have said, I don’t want to intrude.” He’s already backtracking to the door.

    “Eben, please just sit down. Ignore Kevin I mostly do.”

    “Yes, just ignore me. I’m only the closest thing this idiot has for a brother.”

    “They say you can’t chose your family but you can chose your friends. Remind me when I actually chose you to be my surrogate brother Kev?”

    “When you grabbed my weewee when we were nekkid in the bath and called it a water-sword”

    “I never!”

    “As I live and breathe. Water-sword. Then proclaimed a duel between our prospective water-swords. I swear the signs were all there, no wonder no one was surprized when you came out.” 

    This has Eben relax a little with the ghost of a smile twitching his lips.

    “Alright, alright enough embarrassing baby stories. Eben is going to think his cousin hitched up with a complete moron.”

    “Oh? I though that was a moot point.” a remark which earned Kev a very satisfying slap on the head.

    Eben takes a seat in one of the errant armchairs around the coffee table. I poor three glasses of whiskey on the rocks and set them down before taking a seat myself. 

    “Come one spil it.” Kev demands with is usual delicatesse. 

    Eben frons as Kev is staring straight at him. “What?”

    “You have something on your mind and it seems to be driving you crazy inside. So just get it out and so can deal with what the problem is.” Kev’s tone isn’t mocking nor is it impatient or patronisng. He’s serious. For all Kevin is and for all he’s worth, he always surprises me at the weirdest moments. Silence. Which I can’t blame Eben for I’m about to change to subject cause this isn’t fair on the guy but Kev doesn’t let me.

    “Look you don’t know me, I don’t know you. We’ve never met before today. You know pretty boy over here well enough but he doesn’t really matter at the moment.”

    “Great way to make a man feel loved Kev.” I pipe up trying to bring a tension reliever into the conversation but Kev glares at me giving me a clear signal I’m to shut up for the time being. So I just nod my head and take a back seat.

    Eben swirls his whiskey around and around in thought. Kev doesn’t pressure him or urge him one. He gives Eben some headspace.

    When even does speak his demeanor and voice have morphed into this place emotionless state.

    “My dad was,” he takes a sip of his glass before continuing. “a little strict.” He pauses again then looks up to me. “I think he must have seen those signs in me from an early age. Cause any and every memory I have is him trying to beat it out of me.”

    My eyes widen. I know for a fact Max doesn’t know this. He’s talked to me in length about Eben it would be something Max would be torn up about if he knew.

    “And it worked.” He sighed slumping into his armchair. I’m about to protest when Kev gestures me to keep silent.

    “I don’t date. I don’t date anyone for that matter. I’ve never dated anyone. Every time I think of dating or even raise interest in someone. I have ” he gulps down some more whiskey. “scares that remind me of why that’s a bad idea.” he looks up a Kev, Kev gives him a silent indication with his chin. Eben grips his glass while the minutes stretch out. Finally he pulls down the collar of his shirt to reveal a zigzag scare running laced across his chest.

    Kev whistles softly “Wow, that is nasty. The other one must be really bad.” Eben eyes snap up panic visibly wrecking his body.

    “Don’t worry Eben I wouldn’t ask you to show it to me.”

    I’m lost through the words they aren’t speaking out loud, so I remain quiet. Eben seems to relax a little as he drains his glass and I stand to refill it. Poor bastard needs this more than I ever will.

    “It is. It is bad. Not something easily hidden from a lover.” Eben sighs

    “Who is he?” Kev askes keeping his voice low and soft. I frown at the question. What is Kev getting at Eben hasn’t shown any interest in anyone. Surely Max would have known about that they’ve been thick as thieves since they reconnected. He would have told me if there was a potentiel girlfriend on the horizon. I open my mouth but Eben beats me to it. Yet not in the way I was expecting.

    “Brian McAdams.” 

    My mouth remains open and I replay the last few minutes of our conversation in my head. I almost face-palm right then and there. Man i’m being thick tonight!

    “Detective McAdams?” I ask incredulously. 

    Eben nods and Kev nods and I sit back in my seat astonished.

    “I know him, stationed at Cloister Park right.”

    Eben nods and the only though I have running through my mind is. You poor bastard. You managed to fall in love with most straight man I’ve ever seen.

    White

    It’s such a beautiful day today. I almost skip through the shop picking up various foodstuff to magic dinner with. I’m happily humming reading the labels of the two contenders for tonights wine. One fruity yet dark red and one spicy yet light rosé. Choices, Choices!

    My phone rings and i pick up while I deposit the spicy yet light rosé into my cart, let’s live a little!

    “Hey sis what sup?” My mood crashed down around me as I try to make out what my sister is trying to say though the sobs. I slam he phone shut and abandon my laden cart in the middel of the shop. Once in my car I rev the engine and try to remember the route to Red Oak Hospital.

    TBC


    Note from author:

    I know it has been MONTHS! Life happens sometimes in the best possible ways. During these absent months of mine so many milestones haves been reached and succeeded. Which mean a very very happy little author right here yet not much time for writing! I hope to kickstart myself a little with this. A good thing about a hiatus is lots of inspiration equals lots ideas that need writing!

    Colour of Collars will have one more part to it’s series. I hope to post it’s finale soon. After that I’m not going to be posting series too much. I’ll try my best to finish a story before submitting so I won’t let any story linger one like this one has.

     > Special thanks to Anon3 who’s been reminding me this story is worth finishing <

    Yes I periodically do check in on the comments. They me drive to write on.


    All and any feedback is welcomed, comment and/or email me. PLEASE!

    Suggestions, tips or even a chat you know how to find me.

    This is a piece of fiction. My piece of fiction which may not be borrowed, altered, taken or copied without my explicit permission. These stories are registered under my name.

    A. Sonky



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


  • The Fishing Trip With My Nephew

    I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome.  Contact me at [email protected].


    The Fishing Trip With My Nephew

    Note; this is not particularly well-written; I have not devoted time and effort to descriptions and dialogue, but it wasn’t originally intended as a story to be posted for general public consumption, but more a narrative of events.  I’ve “created” some of the dialogue as I remember it.

    I have a nephew on my wife’s side who I thought might be gay.  Thought so for a while.  He was just 18, graduated, a gifted athlete, hell of a baseball player….in fact he has a baseball scholarship; he was a great looking kid, great personality, and BUILT. And he had a very refreshing, straightforward way about him.

    About three years before, when he was fifteen, he was definitely into girls and being very picky about his appearance and conscious of his body; I was in top body-builder shape at the time and he started asking questions about working out and putting on muscle.  We talked and I told him I would make up a workout manual for him.

    I made up workout routines for every body part, complete with pictures, and put them in a notebook. I also made a workout log that I made him promise to keep so he/we could track his progress.  I wrote down the supplements he might start taking; but ONLY those supplements, and told him not to take anything else. I also made up menus and told him to eat five meals a day, not to gorge down three.  I told him to have a picture taken of himself before he started on the routines I’d made up for him, and I told him to work out in shorts, not baggies or sweats.  Just shorts and no shirt so he could watch the muscles as he worked them.  Also made him promise to keep his workout log faithfully, every set, every rep, with the poundage, and set a goal for him to do at least “one more rep.”  Told him to make sure he got plenty of sleep because muscles don’t grow when you’re working out….muscle grows when you sleep.  There was also a place to record how he felt, his mood, etc.  I called him occasionally to encourage him and check on his progress and he was proud to read me some of the entries in his workout log.

    He likes to go fishing (his Dad doesn’t).  I wasn’t a diehard fisherman but I liked to go sometimes to just to get away to the quiet of nature.  He liked the outdoors and liked to go camping (his dad doesn’t).  He liked to shoot (his dad wouldn’t lay a hand on a gun).  I was a hunter when I was younger but in my later years I lost the desire to kill things but I still liked to shoot.

    We went fishing a couple of weeks ago.  He drove up in a Jeep his parents had given him for graduation.  I walked out and saw it, gave him the finger then started slapping him around.  He didn’t lift a hand to defend himself, just reared back with surprised laughter, “What? What’d I do?  I just got here.”

    “What’d you do,” I scoffed.  “You know fuckin’ well what you did. I’ve wanted a Jeep all my life and you, a punk kid, drive up in one.”

    “I’m not a punk,” he said.

    “You are now.”

    We went into the house laughing. He tried to act like he felt bad and told me I could drive it.

    He had on shorts; beautiful thighs, by the way.  He was making greast progress with his workouts…..results were showing.  I asked him if he had jeans, he said he brought jeans because he didn’t know where we would be going. I told him to change, ‘cause where we were going he would need protection for those beautiful legs going through the weeds and bushes. There would be no path.  Actually, we were going several places that I had in mind to make it an all day trip. He let me drive.  Not exactly. I’d already made up my mind I was doing the driving before he offered.  We were getting in and he asked me if I knew how to drive it.  I gave him a COLD deadpan stare and said, “Son, I was driving Jeeps before you were even a gleam in your daddy’s eye.”

    He said, “Oh, that’s right, you were in the Army.”

    “Uhhhh……yeah.”

    I should say he’s not what I call my favorite nephew, only because the two little ones hold that position jointly, but he’s next in line. We’ve always gotten along great and we have fun together, like fishing and at ballgames. And I’ve seen him play ball on several occasions, and I buy him neat things for Christmas, things that others don’t and don’t think are important.  Like necklaces, and good smelling body splash…..to entice the girls.

    It was early morning and we headed out to a 15,000-acre state park a few miles away. His tackle and tackle box hadn’t seen near the wear that mine had, and he had a pretty fancy pole.  He had lures and stuff that I’ve never used, or even seen before…..expensive ones. My tackle and pole is old and functional and serves me well.  My FISHING pole, that is……

    We had a pretty good catch of fish at the first spot, but the time together was the real catch.  Afterwards we headed back and ate lunch at a cruddy little diner that I frequent, and he thought was neat, then we headed for another place (private property, that I have permission to use) where there is a thick woods with a deep, slow moving creek that’s known for blue gill, walleye, striped bass, as well as catfish (but I had another spot in mind for catfish). 

    We waded through the bush and weeds chest high to get to the place. He voiced doubt that it would be worth it. But turned out it was, and going back it wasn’t so bad, following our own path. He was glad he wore jeans.  I joked that his girlfriend would be glad too, that he hadn’t scratched up his legs.

    Third part of the plan was to go to a place I knew down by the river and catch some channel cat.  I’ve always had better luck catching catfish in the cool of the evening or at night. Catfish are scavengers, bottom feeders, trolling the bottom of the river. They will come up when attracted by something like a lure; I guess that’s why they call them lures.  It’s sometimes difficult to land catfish because they tend to hang around the riverbank in the tangle of the exposed tree roots underwater. I’ve lost a lot of hook, line and sinkers fishing for catfish.   I don’t use lures…I buy live bait; it’s the country boy in me, when I used to dig my own fish worms (and raise them) and go out after a rain and pick up night crawlers.

    The place was easier to get to than the other place so Lucas wasn’t turned off by it; he’s not a country boy.  Positioning ourselves along the creek, I sat up a ways from him on the slope of the creek bank so I could watch him…..his impressive, heavily muscled shoulders with bowling ball muscles out at the sides, thick neck with his hair so neatly trimmed in back, almost high and tight like the military, and his big arms sticking out of his shirtsleeves as he held the pole. Yeah, he was nice eye candy.

    Fishing is an opportunity to talk and get to know somebody.  Men go to their graves with secrets they’ve exchanged while fishing.  Lucas and I talked a lot about sports….always about sports….even though I’m not a huge sports fan, he knew I watched baseball and football, but he didn’t know I watched it more for the guys and the uniforms than the sport itself. I don’t have much time for basketball. I like especially like watching rugby; but again for the guys and their thighs. And we talked about girls, of course. He was slow to talk at first, because of our age difference I think, and he wasn’t sure just how much he should tell; and I think he might’ve been afraid of what I might tell his parents, but after he became more comfortable with me, he gradually began to open up, and talking about girls almost always leads to talking about sex with girls, especially between two guys sitting along the river back, fishing, regardless of the age difference.  And I assured him that nothing of our conversations would reach his parents ears unless HE told them.  

    I point blank asked him if he had a sex life and he said yes, without the slightest hesitation, but then qualified his answer with a shy grin and “Well, I don’t know if you’d call it a sex life but I’m not a virgin.”

     

    I asked him how many.  He said several, but don’t tell my folks.

    I asked him the follow up question…..Safe Sex?…..he knew I was serious.

    He said mostly. I told him that was mostly smart, but a lot dumb. We didn’t get into the details of his sex life.

    We talked about college and money for college. He had the scholarship but said it wouldn’t pay for everything. He had some money saved and was saving more from his job, and his parents had a college fund that they’d started years before. Then he said that if he needed extra money he could always be a sperm donor!

    I laughed  “What?”  (Where the fuck did that come from?)  I laughed so hard I choked. He thought it was funny that I was laughing so hard and he started laughing too. 

    I said, “I’m not sure I heard that right, but don’t say it again, I’ll choke to death.”   Note: You’re supposed to be quiet when fishing.

    I stayed on the subject of sperm donor; I wanted to see where the heck it had come from.  “Does your mom and dad know about this idea of yours to make extra spending money?” I asked, still laughing.

    “NO, and you can’t tell them.”

    “You know I wouldn’t do that. You’re an adult.  Even if you weren’t, I still wouldn’t tell them. At eighteen you have a right to your privacy, and I have no right to violate that privacy. So let’s get that straight. Anything and everything we talk about stays between us.  And that means everything WE talk about. I expect the same promise of confidentiality from you.”

     

    “You got it.”

    “This sperm donor thing…..You’re not serious anyway,” I said.  “Are you?”

    Our conversation went something like this………..

    “Not really,” he scoffed.  “But it’s out there as an option,” he added, sort of perking up.  “I know guys, well, one guy actually, who’s doing it. Personally, I don’t know if it would be worth it. They have some pretty strict rules.”

    I asked him what the guy was being paid.

    “He says he gets fifty bucks a pop.  They pay anywhere from a few bucks, sometimes as much as $200 a week for three visits and I read of one place out east that pays $600 a week for three visits.” 

    “Oh, you’ve read up on it, then,” I said.

    “Yeah. Just curious. Sometimes you have to sign a contract. I know one thing, I’m not giving up sex, or even jacking off or a lousy few bucks.  Not even thirty five or fifty dollars, unless it happened to fit into my schedule for sex that week.” 

    But he said he would consider giving up sex for two hundred or six hundred.  He went on…“one place in Europe pays up to $1000 a shot but that’s a one on one deal, where a couple picks you specifically as a donor.  And that’s after a physical profile and a lot of tests, and you have to give several samples first before you go back for the big bang.”

    I was smiling the whole time he was talking.  The kid had actually done research!  A LOT of research, I thought, for someone who wasn’t considering doing it.

    “It’s not like you can just walk in and jack off a load for beer or gas money.  You have to be registered, and in fact, only about 5% of prospective donors are even accepted. You can’t have AIDS or test positive for HIV–that’s a no brainer–you can’t ever have had hepatitis….don’t know about mono.  Never taken drugs, and in some states, gays can’t be sperm donors, period, or even if you’ve ever had any homosexual activity, although I don’t know how they would know that.”

    I laughed. “Hell, no wonder 95% of all donors are rejected.  That restriction, homosexual activity, probably eliminates more guys than all the other restrictions combined. Do they really and truly expect to find that many guys who have never messed around with other boys, like their brothers, when they were kids?  Hell, surely that can’t be classified as homosexual activity.”

    “Well I never had a brother,” he said.

    “How about friends?” I asked. I didn’t think he was expecting that sudden twist in the conversation. But he didn’t flinch with his answer. 

    “Okay, I admit, me and another kid messed around in sixth grade. We showed each other our cocks on a dare to see who was biggest.”

    “Who won?”

    “I did.”

    “Just that one time?” I asked.

    “No, we did it several times after that. Not a lot, but sometimes, when we had the opportunity.  He always brought it up, I never did,” he was quick to point out. “He always said he wanted to see if he’d caught up with me.”

    “Did he?”

    “No, still hasn’t,” he said.

    “Oh? You sound very sure of that,” I said with a sly grin.

    “I see him in the locker room,” he said with a shrug. “But we were talking about sperm donors,” he added, as if to get off the subject of him and his friend. 

    “Well, you’ve obviously done your research,” I said. “But how exactly, I mean the process….I know about artificial insemination of animals, and gathering sperm from bulls or stallions…I’ve done that….but I never gave much thought to the process for guys.”

    “This guy told me you go into a little room, the jack off-room, he called it. They even have porn, magazines and videos if you want. You jack off and shoot your load in a sterile container.”

    “Wow, just like at home in your room except you don’t shoot it in your sock,” I joked.  “And when did you guys stop, and why?” I asked.

    “Huh?”

    “We were talking about you and your friend jacking off together.” 

    “Oh.” He looked a little embarrassed that I’d brought it up again but again, he didn’t flinch.  “I stopped when I was able to shoot. I figured I was too old to be messing around like that and comparing cocks.”

    “But you’ve been doing it ever since,” I said.

    He scowled at me. “No, Why do say that?”

    “Lucas……”   I paused so the silence would get his attention and he would look at me.  “You look me in the eye and tell me you don’t nor have ever checked out other guys in the locker room and showers.”

    He didn’t blink. “Oh, yeah, that. But not like hardons.  Everybody does that, but it’s not like I’m comparing.”

    “You lie,” I said, laughing.  “You’re checking out the competition.”

    He turned red, which he is prone to do in these situations. It’s a trait I’ve always loved about him.  He embarrasses easy, but that doesn’t stop him from being very open and straightforward about how he says things.

    “Hey, watch my pole, will you, I gotta take a piss.”  He said it as he was handing me his fishing pole and he reached down and groped the front of his shorts at the same time.

    I figured he was trying to worm out of the conversation. I laughed as I took his pole.  “Damn, you had me worried there for a minute. You grabbed yourself when you said that, I was wondering which pole you were wanting me to hold.”

    He got a big laugh out of that. He got up and went up the bank a couple of yards. It was interesting that he didn’t turn his back to me to undo his jeans. He didn’t face me either; it wasn’t at all like he was flaunting himself, or being suggestive or anything. It was like that’s where he just happened to plant his feet comfortably on the slope of the creek bank and that’s where he was gonna take a piss. He undid his fly completely, reached in and hauled everything out, balls included and tucked the waistband of his briefs under them. It was done so casually that I didn’t take anything from it; I was sure that’s how he took a piss all the time, even at a urinal. But he was in full view and I naturally looked.

    “Bet you don’t have any trouble finding somebody to hold that pole for you,” I said. I wondered if he noted I didn’t say “finding a girl.”

    “I do all right, I guess.”  Still it was nothing except the perfectly normal and natural act of answering nature’s call.  I happened to glance up again when he was putting everything back, and he joked,  “Checking out the competition?” as he was buttoning his jeans.

    “I could give you a run for your money,” I said smartly.  He laughed.

     He came back to sit in the same spot and take over his fishing pole.

    “Did I catch anything?”

    “Not unless you caught poison ivy up there with that other pole hanging out,” I joked.  “By the way, when we get back to the house, you need to wash up good, or even take a shower. If you accidentally touched poison ivy or poison oak you can spread it to your cock.”

    We talked and bantered about; nothing sexual in that regard, but the conversation did venture into his personal life–and sexual encounters–at my gentle prodding and tugging of course. He told me about him and a teammate, when they were playing on a traveling team, in another city.  The team traveled by car since most of their families went to see the games. His parents took both vehicles, taking several other players with them.

    I guess there were a couple of girls at the ballpark watching them play and they were cheering the guys out….and he suddenly realized they were yelling out his number.  The guys were giving him shit about it in the dugout. Without being obvious to his coaches or his parents, he located the girls in the bleachers and made what he hoped was eye contact.  He told his buddy his plan and asked him if he was up for it.  Well, hell yes!

    After the games–the second one was an evening game–he finagled one of the vehicles out of his parents and arranged with the other players who rode with them to catch rides with somebody else…..all except his buddy.  He told his teammates what he had in mind–for the two of them to try to pick up some girls–and the rest of the boys went along with it of course. 

    Well, the cars and the fans gradually cleared out, including the girls, apparently, because the boys hung back and they couldn’t be found.  Well, they had the vehicle so they decided to leave and go cruising around.  Driving down the street leading back into the town from the ballpark, there were the two girls, on foot.  They pulled over and it didn’t take much to get them into their car.  They drove around for a little bit and got acquainted then drove out to a place that the girls knew.  He fucked one in the front seat while his buddy fucked the other one in the back seat. After a short recuperation period the buddy’s girl said she thought they should trade places to “see how each one plays their position.”  So they switched places and he fucked the other girl.

    I asked him if it was one of the smart times or the dumb times.  He got red in the face.

    “I see, since there were no condoms in the glove compartment and I assume you don’t carry condoms in your cup, they were both bareback rides,” I said, dryly.

    He sort of cringed, like he’d been nailed and I think he was a bit taken aback that that’s what I came up with after he’d told me about their conquests.   “Yeah, they were bareback.”

    “You ever hear of Walgreen’s, CVS, hell, any grocery store carries condoms.”

    He was looking guilty now.  “Yeah, but I didn’t wanta ruin the mood.”                        

    “Dude, the girls got in your car with you, even told you where to go….you don’t think they would’ve had a clue if you’d stopped at a drug store on the way? Hell, you should’ve point black asked them, where’s the nearest drug store.” 

    “I know.”

    “Both of you guys fucked both of those girls bareback, girls that you just met, didn’t you wonder even for a minute, how many other guys had probably done the same thing? You don’t have to answer that. You’re a big boy……start acting like it.  You gotta take responsibility for your life, son.” 

    “Yeah, I know.”

    “Sorry if I sound like your dad, but if I sound pissed and disgusted, that’s because I am.  Geezuss, Lucas, you’re a smart kid, but you’re acting like a dumb jock when you tuck your brains inside your cup?”

    “I promise it won’t happen again.”  He was defensive.

    “And that promise will last till you find yourself in the back seat of a car with a girl and…..ooops…..forgot to stuff a condom in my cup.”

    “No,” he said shaking his head. “If I find myself in any situation like that, I’m gonna remember what you told me.”

    “What’d I tell you?”

    He repeated it. “You’re a big boy,……start acting like it.  You gotta take responsibility for your life, son. Believe me, I’m gonna remember that.”

    “Good, but you gotta remember it BEFORE…..BEFORE you find yourself in the situation.  Once you’re in the situation, you start thinking with your balls, and your balls don’t have a memory, and your cock takes orders from your balls.”

    He laughed.  “I will remember.”

    “Okay.”

    “You got a bite,” he said, nodding to my line.

    I brought the fish in.  Sucker had to weigh over four pounds.

    “You didn’t sound like my dad, by the way. My dad would never have talked to me about anything like that.”

    “You dad never told you about condoms?”

    “No.  I got the talk when I was younger, but it was pretty general; pretty confusing in fact.”

    “I hope I didn’t confuse you,” I said.

    “No, sir, there wasn’t anything confusing about what you said,” he said emphatically.  “You know, it’s good to be able to talk to somebody like this.”

    We had a great day, even cleaning the fish, a smelly job. I had purchased a new fillet knife I wanted to try out and I’d bought one for him. He was pleased with it but ended up with several minor cuts on his hand and fingers. We wrapped the fish and put them in my freezer to cool down, except for those we used for our own fish fry. He left the heads on three of them to gross out his mom and sister.  I would send most of the fish home with him, packed in a cooler of ice. I cooked the fish in oil and a corn meal batter.  It was greasy but it’s the only way to cook fresh fish.  While we ate, we planned the camping trip that we had talked about casually before.

      

    When we were cleaning up the mess, we went back to the camping trip.  He was anxious; I told him I could go anytime he was freed up.  I told him to invite his dad to come along.  He laughed and said that’d be the day.  I told him to ask him anyway. 

    “And don’t say it like, I know you won’t go but I’m asking you anyway. Ask him like you really want him to go.”

     

    It was getting a little late and he said he was tired and he smelled like fish and he was dreading the drive back; in general sounding like he didn’t want to leave.  I told him he could spend the night if he wanted to but he needed to shower anyway.  He said that would be great but he didn’t have any extra clothes.  I told him we could throw all his clothes in the washer. He called his parents and told/asked if he could stay the night; they said yes without hesitation.

    Quite honestly, up till this point there was not anything explicitly sexual in my thoughts; we’d just been having a good time together as uncle and nephew. Of course there was the eye candy and admittedly, a tiny spark that lay in the back of my mind from when he first started maturing out of gangly boyhood….but it had remained a spark, and in the back of my mind.  Now, the spark was flickering. Not with any great hope of anything actually happening–at least not yet–but I couldn’t help considering the possibilities sometime in the future, and therefore found this an opportunity to lay the groundwork.

    I told him to pull his Jeep in the garage and while he was doing that I went back to the guest bathroom and removed the towels. (always thinking).  He came in and I told him he could go into the laundry room and take off his clothes; the bathroom and shower were right next door. I went into the bedroom for an appropriate amount of time, giving him time to get out of his clothes, then went into the laundry room to start the washer.

    Oh, My Goddd!  My timing was perfect!  He was standing with his back to me, putting his clothes in the washer. I didn’t know where to start looking. I focused on his butt first; had a hard time keeping my hands to myself. Two round, tight muscle globes set on lean hips, giving way sharply to a pair of long, muscular thighs with just enough sun-bleached hair to make them look manly.  His body flared up and out from his hips to impressively broad, well muscled shoulders. Fuck, he was almost beautiful.

    “I’ll do that, you can go ahead and shower,” I told him.

    He turned around and it was another Ohhh, MY GODD moment.  I actually swallowed loud enough that he might have heard me gulp. Those shoulders again, balled with muscle, and thick, well developed pecs that you could just about cover with your hands–nice nipples–and abs that I would kill for….a six pack, working on eight.  The front of his thighs were sculptured, and appropriately so to frame such an impressive hunk of manhood.  Nice balls, held high in their sac, peeking out around his thick cock. He wasn’t huge, just damned impressive. It didn’t hang down and it didn’t stick out. It seemed to rest, dangling out at an angle, like it was too thick to hang straight down. He was cut, and the doctor did a good job. Nice meaty head that flared out wider than the shaft; thick, delicious looking rim….it looked almost heavy. (Okay, the spark had flared a little more; seeing him naked had fanned the flames and I was having sexual thoughts about the guy). All this was taken in, in a matter of seconds that it took him to move past me to go to the bathroom. I didn’t think he noticed the way I looked at him.

    I heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. I stood at the washer, gripping the edge to get a hold on myself.  Fuck, I was going to have this teenage stud alone in my house all night!  Well, that would be the extent of it, I vowed.  He would be in my house, but not in my bed…..and me not in his bed. I started the washer and decided to put my clothes in with his; I smelled like fish, too.  I stripped down and tossed everything in and waited for him to call for towels. He was quite a while in the shower. But finally……

    “Hey…..I don’t have a towel!”

    I grabbed towels from the linen closet and went into the bathroom.

    “I didn’t think I should use these fancy ones,” he said, indicating the “show towels” as I called them.  He was standing in the tub with the curtain back, his tanned, muscular body glistening with water droplets.

    “Sorry. Here,” I said, handing him one towel and laying the other one the shelf.   “Hey, looks like the workout routines I made up for you worked,” I said, openly eyeing his muscular body.

    “Yeah.” He seemed a bit embarrassed by the compliment.

    He barely noticed, it seemed, that I was naked. He simply moved to the side and stepped out of the shower so I could get in.

    “Where’d you get that tan?” I asked as I looked him over.

    “I’m at the pool every chance I get,” he said.

    “The suit you wear must be a real attention getter; obviously not muh to it,” I pointed out, referring to the narrow pale strip around his middle.

    “My girlfriend bought it for me,” he said, looking a little sheepishly.

    “Obviously easy to get into,” I said.  “Or out of,” I added.

    “I was going to ask if it’s okay to sleep like this, but I don’t have any choice; all my clothes are in the washer,” he said.

    I told him he could sleep any way he liked, and pointed out that his bedroom was right across the hall.

    “I can’t sleep like this at home, because of my sister,” he said.

    I told him he should tell his sister to stay out of his room, but he said it was his Dad’s rule.

    “I’ll say goodnight; I think I’ll hit the sack,” he said.

    “Sleep tight.”

    I didn’t jack off but I wanted to. Don’t ask me why I didn’t.  As I was drying off I opened the door to let the steam out of the bathroom and saw that he hadn’t closed the bedroom door.  Couldn’t read anything into it; I just figured he would close the door. I had a mischievous idea then. I came out of the bathroom and got a hand towel out of the linen closet and went into his room. He was lying on his back with the sheet up to his hips, his arms up over his head. 

    “Hey, today was great,” he said.

    “Yeah, it was,’ I agreed.  I tossed him the towel. 

    He snatched it out of the air and asked, “What’s this for?”

    “I don’t want you messing up the sheets,” I said.

    He laughed and threw the towel back at me. I let it drop to the floor and left it there. I wanted to convey the message that it really was okay to use it. 

    I was glad I was tired enough that I went to sleep pretty fast so I didn’t lay awake in misery, thinking about the young hunk sleeping naked in the next room…..and likely jacking off.

    Next morning when I got up to go to the bathroom, going by his door, I noticed the hand towel wasn’t on the floor where he’d tossed it.  No shit! The little fucker had jacked off?? I couldn’t believe it!  I didn’t flush the toilette so I wouldn’t wake him up.  Coming out of the bathroom I peered into his bedroom. Still another OMG moment.  A very long OMG moment. He was sprawled out on his back, the sheet down around his calves, sleeping like a baby…..with a hardon!  Shit!!  I said his cock had potential…he was at his full potential. Godd, it looked like it was a good eight inches long, and as thick as hell.  I said the head looked heavy hanging, it was monstrous in its swollen state.  I moved closer to the bed for a better look, where I could watch it throb and when it did, it quivered up over his stomach, covering his navel. I wondered how the hell he was able to sleep with that going on down there.  But he was snoring softly. Then I saw the towel.  It was laying wadded up at his hip!  He had jacked off in it! Talk about balls!  But like I said, he was pretty open and straightforward about things; and I had given him an open invitation.

    Standing watching the young jock in all his naked, excited glory was a real test of will and restraint.  My palms were itching to take hold of his beautiful cock and my mouth was watering.  But I refrained from touching him. Instead I left the room, but I took the towel with me.  Let him wonder where it went. I went back in the bathroom and made enough noise to wake him up.  He appeared at the bedroom door across from me with one hand over his cock, pressing it against his stomach. I supposed he was wondering why I was using the guest bathroom instead of the master bath off my bedroom.

    “I’ll get out of your way here in just a minute,” I told him.

    He waited in the doorway till I left the bathroom. I chuckled and said, “Good luck with that,” I said, nodding to his manhood.

    I came back with a new toothbrush for him to use and he was still standing at the stool, pushing his cock down to aim it and trying to piss. I laughed and reached over and turned the water on.

    “Sometimes that helps,” I said. “How do you like your eggs?”

    “Fried hard.”

    I laughed, looking right at his cock and said, “Why doesn’t that surprise me; you like everything hard?” Having embarrassed him again I said, “Okay, I’ll go start breakfast.”

    “I don’t suppose I have any clothes to put on,” he called out after me.    

    “Oh, shit, thanks for reminding me. I forgot all about putting them in the dryer.”

    I could’ve offered him a pair of shorts but chose not to, and I didn’t put any on either. I wanted the boy naked for as long as I could have him that way. I had breakfast under way by the time he came out to the kitchen, wearing a towel around his waist. I was surprised, since I was naked.

    “What’s with the towel? I didn’t hear the shower running.”

    “I thought I should wear something, to eat breakfast,” he said.

    “You don’t have to on my account, and your sister isn’t here.”

    “Okay.” And he took the towel off and draped it over the back of the chair. His big cock swung majestically, still very big and rubbery. It didn’t seem to bother him to be naked, I thought he was just showing some manners with the towel. When he got too close to the stove I told him he’d better stand back so he didn’t get grease splattered on the family jewels.

    He laughed and said, “It’s kinda neat to run around like this.”

    “Yeah, you can’t do that at home,” I remarked. Wisely, it was restricted to eye candy.  I even managed not to get a hardon.

    Part way through breakfast he brought up the hand towel.  He started to say something and his face was turning red and he cut himself off.  I just waited for him to go on.

    “I’m really embarrassed to bring this up, but I couldn’t find the towel you gave me last night.”

    “I took care of it,” I said.

    “I was going to take care of it…..rinse it out.”

    “No need to. And no need to be embarrassed. Do you think that’s the first cum towel to be laying around this house?”

    “Thanks,” he said with a sheepish look down at his plate.

    We didn’t dwell on the towel. We talked about his baseball, and in the back of my mind as I watched him sitting there naked, I was thinking I should send him and his fish on their way as soon as possible. He didn’t know that he wasn’t in the safest of situations, sitting there at my kitchen table, naked. I say this tongue in cheek…..he was safe.  No way was I going to try anything. I made a comment on how he had bulked up and was so solid and he thanked me again for setting him up with the workout routines and the supplements. He talked about some frustrations he had with his coach and some other players; one in particular who he thought was trying to nudge him out of his spot.

    “How could he nudge you out of your spot?  You have tryouts, don’t you?  Are you saying you don’t trust the coaches to be fair?”

    “No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just the way the guy struts around the locker room, like such a stud.  Like times when everybody else is in their shorts or jockstraps, he’s always naked.” 

    I thought it was an odd thing for him to say about another boy in the locker room, like being naked was something out of the ordinary. 

    “He’s always got a pain somewhere, like he gets hurt at every practice, and has to have one of the trainers take a look at it, like they baby him. Actually he is the pain, in the ass.  He makes a big show about getting in the cattle tank, and he uses it for every little ache and pain. He just wants the attention.”

    “I assume the cattle tank is the whirlpool,” I said.

    “Yeah. We call it the cattle tank because it’s so big.  He’s always joking, trying to get guys to get in with him. Like anybody’s going to do that. And he criticizes everybody, saying he could do it better, then tries to show that he is.”

    “Is he better than you?” I asked.

    “I don’t think he is.”

    “Then what’re you worrying about?  You know, if I didn’t know better, Lucas, I would think you’re jealous of this guy.”

    “Maybe I am, a little, or I could be,” he admitted, acting a little embarrassed. “He’s always talking about taking a guy’s girl away from him.”

    “I wondered when a girl was going to enter the picture,” I said, smiling. “Has he made a try for your girlfriend?”

    “I don’t know if you would call it a try; he’s always flirting around with the girls, and any time anybody breaks up with his girl, he’s right there to take up the slack and starts dating her, then he brags that he’s doing the job the other boyfriend wasn’t doing.”

    “Has he done that to you?”

    “No. I’ve only really gone with this one girl that I’m dating now,” he said.

    “And you’re still dating her.”

    “Yeah.”

    “Then you must be doing the job,” I said.

     He shrugged and blushed and said, yeah, he guessed so.

    “You’ve still got your girlfriend, and you’ve got your scholarship,” I said.   “I don’t understand about this guy taking your spot.  I don’t know what you’re all uptight about. I think this guy is just pulling your chain.”

    “I don’t know…..I just don’t like the guy,” he said.

    “Okay, don’t like the guy, but don’t get paranoid,” I told him. “Anyway, is he going to the same college as you?”

    “Yeah.”

    “So it’s your college coach you’re talking about.”

    “Yes.”

    “Well, do your best, Lucas, that’s all anybody can expect of you. Are you still going to have your girlfriend back home?”

    “I hope so. She’ll be a senior.”

    Then I asked him, “Are you having sex with your girlfriend?”

    He just looked at me for a second before he answered.  “Yeah.  Sometimes.”

    “If you were afraid I would run and tell you parents, don’t be,” I said.  “I told you, everything that’s said here stays here.”

    “Thanks. I appreciate that. It makes it easier to talk to you.”

    “That goes for you, too,” I said.  “Everything that’s said…….”

    “Yeah, I know,” he said.

    “You are using condoms with your girlfriend.”

    “Yeah, except for……”

    “Except for what?” I asked with a scowl.  “There shouldn’t be any ‘except fors’.”

    “I was gonna say, except when she gives me head,” he went on, again looking embarrassed.  The kid really embarrassed easy, and I love that about him.

    “Okay,” I said.  “Is she any good at it?” I asked, half joking.

    “She’s okay.”

    “But you’ve had better?”

    “No,” he said, laughing. “She’s the first and only girl to ever give me head.  I meant she’s just okay; she has a little problem with her teeth, and she’s not too keen on swallowing, or even taking it in her mouth for that matter.”

    “From what I saw, I can see how she might have a little problem with that…..the teeth and the swallowing,” I said.

    “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I make allowances for that…..my size.”

    “Oh. Well, swallowing swallowing isn’t necessarily a good idea these days,” I said.

    “I’m clean,” he said.

    “Do you know that? Have you been tested?”

    “No, but……”

    “Then you don’t know if you’re safe or not. Let’s see, there were those two girls after a baseball game…….”  I let my words trail off, letting them sink in.  He looked embarrassed again.  “Get tested.  Don’t let your girl get close to your cock till you’re tested.”

    “Where would I go to do that where the whole town wouldn’t know?”

    “Go to Indianapolis, to a free clinic…it won’t cost you anything, and they don’t ask questions or report back to your parents. It’s completely confidential.”

    He looked at me, nodding.  “Boy, I couldn’t begin to have this conversation with my Dad,” he said.  “He would totally freak out.”

    “So, you will get tested,” I said, dryly.

    “Yeah.”

    “Say that like you mean it.”

    “I’ll get tested,” he said, sounding a little irritated at my persistence.

    “Good. I want you to tell me when you do.  I wanta know you did it, and I wanta know the results.”

    “Shit, man, the results have to be negative, there was just that one time,” he said with a scowl.

     

    I held up two fingers.

    “Okay, two times.”

    “More than that, really.  You actually had sex with every other guy they ever had sex with.  And if they fucked both of you guys bareback, they probably fucked the other guys bareback.”

    “Now you’re scaring me.”

    “I intend to. Get tested.”

    “Yes, sir, I will.”  He laughed. “You know, maybe you’re not that easy to talk to after all.”

    “Maybe I’m not.  I’m not, if you’re wanting sugar-coated answers.”

    We had finished eating, and as much as I liked having him around and talking to him, I thought he should be on his way home. I went to check the dryer.  The jeans weren’t dry yet.  I went back to the kitchen to find Lucas cleaning up.  Godd, he looked great, standing at the sink with his gorgeous, tight butt sticking out.  I wanted him for my houseboy.

    “Your jeans aren’t dry yet, but they should be by the time you get your stuff gathered up and we get you loaded,” I said. It was a gentle hint that he should be leaving.

    We finished cleaning up the kitchen then we got the fish out of the freezer and packed it in enough ice that would get it home safe.  There was some horseplay when I rubbed an ice cube down the crack of his ass when he was bent over. Couldn’t help myself. He tried to get me back.  I’m no weakling, but he’s strong as a bull and he managed to get me in a double arm hold from behind, both of those muscular arms around me and reached around and rubbed an ice cube all around my groin.  I yelped and it was a natural reaction to break free, but I wished I’d stayed and played weak, with his hard, naked body pressed tightly against me and all that warm meat smashed against my butt. When I broke away, the horseplay ended and we went inside to get dressed. I dug the clothes out of the dryer and he started getting dressed right there.  I handed him his tidy-whitey briefs and asked him if he could really fit everything in them.

    He said, “Watch me.”

    I watched him. It seemed like he made a show of stuffing everything in and arranging it just right then he brushed his hand down over the bulge.

    I said, “Barely,” and handed him his jeans.

    He gave me a hug when I walked him out to the garage to his Jeep and thanked me for taking him fishing.  He said he would call me about the camping trip.  I told him to call me about the tests first.

    He called me a couple of weeks later from his cell phone and told me he had been tested and he was okay. I told him to stay that way.  Then I asked him if he was going to thank me.  He asked, thank me for what?   I said, for possibly saving your life.  I think I got through to him.

    Anxiously awaiting the camping trip.


    Dear Readers;

    Over the years I’ve had many of you say that my stories should be published; that you would purchase them if they were. Despite the much appreciated support from readers, my venture into publishing did not turn out well. Some of the ads on Amazon offered e-stories FREE for purchasing their reader; they were giving away my work for their own benefit. And AFTER the stories were published I received their ridiculous Author’s Agreement which I refused to sign and I stopped sending them any more stories and then I put the stories back on the free sites.

    For those of you who are still interested, I have set up a way for you to make donations in whatever amount you wish. No pressure; your support will be much appreciated, but whether you choose to donate or not is of course entirely up to you. If you wish to donate, please send cash, check or money order to ROBERT TREILING (he is my editor and “agent”). Checks or money orders should be made out to Robert Treiling, at:

    Robert Treiling;  P. O. Box 216;   Sea Cliff, NY 11579.

    Thank you, in advance. Since I do not collect addresses (or phone numbers) you will not receive a note of thanks unless you email me and I will send a confirmation that your donation has been received.

    Pete


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


  • A College Couple Goes Home For Christmas

    Hope you’ve all had great holidays and are looking forward to an awesome 2017. This is a long-overdue follow-on to the story of two college jocks who found each other and found love and are progressing now, two years later. If you haven’t read the prior four installments, which Bjorn has graciously reposted for me within the past week or so, I hope you like the story enough to read all about Alec and Gregg.


    A College Couple Goes Home For Christmas – A College Man Part 5

    a work of fiction by BillyC / [email protected] 

    “Dude, seriously, c’mon. We’re going to miss the flight!”

    “‘Dude’? The last time you called me ‘dude’ was when you still thought you were straight! What are you doing – practicing your butch swagger so your parents don’t suspect what a cock-crazed cum whore bottom bitch you are?” Alec had stopped digging through his backpack to face his lover of two years, Gregg, the star water polo jock who’d captured his heart – and his balls.

    “Hey!” Gregg snapped back, sharply enough that Alec missed a breath. “That’s YOUR bottom bitch who’s crazy for YOUR cock and is a total whore for every drop of YOUR cum, thank you kindly!” He’d advanced on Alec as he corrected him, and he’d stopped with his nose millimeters from Alec’s. And had Alec’s hardening cock in a tight grip through his jeans, causing Alec’s breathing to become a little ragged.

    “You want to make that flight?” Alec asked, almost panting as Gregg rubbed his stiff cock.

    “I want you more, stud!”

    Alec grabbed Gregg roughly and pivoted him around, pushing his face downward over his open suitcase. As he did he reached under Gregg and with amazing dexterity got his belt and jeans undone and ripped the button fly open. Then, he yanked the jeans down along with Gregg’s sexy tight short boxer briefs, and he dove into Gregg’s fuzzy crack and hole face-first.

    “Oh, yeah, Al, oh my God you know I love that!” Gregg moaned and clutched the bedsheet under the open backpack his face was shoved in. He recognized the feel of the slick compression shorts Alec preferred, and it excited him even more thinking of his face buried in a pair sweaty after a long run or hard workout.

    Gregg was gyrating his ass, grinding back into Alec’s face, onto his tongue, loving it. But Alec had only one thing in mind – spit-lube Gregg’s hole, fuck him hard and fast and unload . . . and not miss their plane and face questions from Gregg’s parents. He hocked up as much spit and snot as he could and tongue-plunged it in as deep as he could while he got his own jeans undone and down.

    The college varsity team captain whined like a bitch in heat when Alec suddenly disengaged. “Al, don’t–“

    “Don’t tel me what to do!” Alec barked down at him as he shoved his briefs down. “Your fault. Now you take the consequences!” He spat another glob directly into Gregg’s crack and then drooled as much as he could on his raging cock and swiped it around with his hand. When he shoved his wide, blunt cockhead against his lover’s fuzzy pucker, Gregg pushed back and growled.

    There was no time and no patience for any ease or gentleness. Alec shoved HARD past Gregg’s tight pucker getting a roar from him, his head and shoulders rearing up. Alec pushed him down roughly and drove farther into him, this time getting a cry of, “Oh fuck yeah. Own my hole, Al!”

    There was a time, at the beginning, when Gregg was indulging feelings and desires he didn’t know much about other than that they were wrong for a stud college jock to have, especially about his teammates, especially when he became co-captain! Then it took time for him to open himself – literally – to anything other than Alec’s tongue. He vigorously used Alec’s holes with equal enthusiasm, and he quickly learned he loved sucking Alec’s long, veiny cock.

    Truth be told, Gregg had been Alec’s fantasy for a long time. Also true was that Alec was completely versatile when they first got together. So being a bit Beta at the outset to Gregg’s Alpha was not only acceptable, it played a bit into Alec’s long-lived fantasies about the big, burly captain of his team. But once Gregg made it clear he wanted to give Alec everything Alec gave him, wanted Alec to enjoy everything he did, Alec took his virginity, leaving Gregg profoundly satisfied and wanting more.

    Over the time they’d had together it turned out that Gregg had a sub side that, when stoked, was white hot. It also evolved that Alec had an Alpha side that was strong when complemented by his lover’s Beta. And then it evolved that more than three-quarters of the time Alec pitched, Gregg caught, and every play of every game was full of home runs for both of them.

    Alec had hold of Gregg’s nearly-buzz-cut hair, yanking his head back with his slender fingers managing the grip. Filthy talk spewed from his mouth as he slammed Gregg deep and hard. “Work my fucking load out of me! C’mon put that pussy to work and milk my cock! You know you want my load – you fucking dream of being filled with seed don’t you, whore?”

    “YOUR seed, Al. I fucking NEED your seed. Fuck it into me!” Gregg shouted back and met every ramming thrust and worked his lover’s slamming fuckpole with his well-muscled cunt.

    “C’MON!” Alec shouted. “You want it? Take it from me!”

    And Gregg did exactly that, fucking himself back onto Alec’s wild thrusts, clenching and massaging with muscle moves he’d practiced to proficiency. “Like that, stud? Still think you’re in control?” Gregg growled as he felt Alec’s cock thicken inside him, the thick, blunt head widening and reaming him harder, knowing Alec’s release was near.

    “OHHHHH YEAHHHHHH, work my cock!” Alec moaned in vibrato from the intense collisions of his groin and Gregg’s tailbone with each thrust. At that point it didn’t matter who was in control so long as they both got off!

    Gregg shifted slightly and began taking hits to his prostate that sent him into orbit as Alec was about to blow. Still clenching when his body wasn’t spasming from the intensity of the jolts as cock pummeled p-spot, it wasn’t more than a handful of thrusts later that hey both careened over the edge.

    “YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Alec shouted as his body first seized, his cock ground as deep into Gregg’s musclebutt as he could get, then erupted in spasms and spurts. “TAAAAAKE IT!”

    Gregg was erupting himself, his body bucking through his climax, pinned down on Alec’s blasting cock. “FUCKING GIIIIIIVE IT TO MEEEE!” he cried out.  

    They finally collapsed in a heap, sweaty, struggling for breath. Alec’s face was in the back of Gregg’s sweaty neck, and the stink of cum combined with Gregg’s mansweat was intoxicating. Gregg sweat easier and more than Alec – another thing Alec was grateful for in his choice of mate. He indulged himself and inhaled deeply, then quickly swiped his tongue up Gregg’s sweaty neck before jerking himself mercilessly out of his lover and smacking his finely honed, fuzzy assglobe.

    The yelp from Gregg when Alec yanked out the wide flange of his cockhead morphed into a yip when Alec slapped his ass. “Don’t be a baby!” Alec taunted him. “You got what you wanted, and if you hit Uber now, we’ll jump in he shower and still make our plane.”

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

    On the flight to Vail, which they’d only made by hustling themselves through the TSA-Pre line at LAX by pleading and apologizing and then RUNNING to the gate, Gregg laid his head on Alec’s shoulder without regard for the few stares they got. “Have I told you lately that you’re my dream man, Al? I love you,” he said softly but not so softly that the third guy in their aisle couldn’t hear. He turned his headand kissed Alec on the chin before settling his head back.

    Alec briefly thought how things had evolved between them. He’d been out when they met, and Gregg hadn’t even explored his curiosity. As if turning a switch, Gregg came out and instantly was completely unconcerned with what anyone thought – holding hands, kissing, walking with his arm around Alec anywhere and everywhere. Even in an airplane inches from a pretty straight looking guy next to him in the window seat.

    Why was it that Alec, who hadn’t hidden his sexuality since he was barely fifteen, now had to remind himself not to hesitate, not to falter in any way at any time in any place to show Gregg how much he loved him and appreciated him? Alec pulled his hand up and caressed Gregg’s always stubbly – and even more devastatingly handsome because of it! – face and awkwardly twisted his neck so he could barely kiss Gregg’s tanned forehead. “I love you more, Gregg,” he told his soul mate, eliciting a short, quiet chuckle of acknowledgement before the first snuffly snore was audible.

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

    With only their backpacks, the two tall, built young men strode directly through the airport holding hands, catching many looks along the way. Some there in that less-integrated and more rarified locale than Los Angeles were bothered by their display, but more weren’t, and many men and women alike just thought the two were handsome as hell. At a very muscle-packed six-on, Gregg was the poster jock stud. And at six-six, with mile-wide surfer shoulders and a lean torso that tapered to an impossibly narrow waist, Alec was a poster surfer boy. Together they exuded maleness, youth and athleticism . . . and were obviously in love. They walked out into the icy winter wearing what they’d brought for the cold – long sleeved pullovers, down vests, caps – but were glad to see Gregg’s parents’ waiting limousine right there, close, because they were already freezing after just a couple of steps. The family’s longtime chauffeur greeted them both with equal acknowledgement but formally, despite having worked for Gregg’s parents since before he was born. “Master Owens. Mister Dunne. We’ll have you to Eagle’s Race in no time. Gregg rolled his eyes at Alec and mouthed “Eagle’s Race”, his parents’ “ski chalet” with a look of mock awe. Alec cracked-up, and some of the tension he didn’t even realize had built was released.  

    In the back of the stretch Rolls Royce that seemed to Alec like something that should be in Ray Donovan or Empire or Entourage, Gregg rubbed Alec’s thigh gently. He knew how uncomfortable Alec was amid his parents’ absurd wealth. Gregg himself didn’t give it a thought one way or the other really. He was grateful for the advantages, but he was capable of making his own bed, doing his own laundry, vacuuming his own floor . . .

    Alec suddenly broke the silence of the ride to Gregg’s parent’s private mountain. “Remember, we’re not going to talk politics. The election is over, so there’s no sense but to look forward.”

    Gregg’s parents were Republicans – bigtime Republicans. When they’d met and Gregg took Alec to meet his parents, it had been to challenge them to choose between their up-to-then anti-gay Republican party line and their son. In truth it was no choice, despite shock for the sudden revelation. Gregg’s parents were good people, and they loved their son. So much that they’d gone on a campaign using the formidable power of their wealth to shore up tolerant Republican candidates and to cut off their funding from intolerant ones and for intolerant causes. They gave mid seven figures every year, so the effect was felt.

    An unwelcome byproduct of their new tolerance and convictions was their embrace of the billionaire outsider who’d taken the primaries by storm and, ultimately, had won the election, if not he vote. Gregg and Alec both still cringed at the archaic Electoral College system which made it possible for an unstable egomaniac to win an election after losing the vote count by millions. Truth be told they didn’t like the dishonest, mainstream Democratic opponent any better; but still . . . Gregg’s parents, having not only done business with the crazy president-elect for years but also working their asses off to get him elected, were ecstatic with the outcome. Alec’s reminder was worth heeding, even though Gregg had already made plans to see that the trip was the best Alec had ever had. And it was Christmas, after all, and they didn’t need the kind of blow-up that seemed to happen when Gregg couldn’t hold back his own very specific political views, which his parents dismissed as “unrealistically idealistic” and Gregg shot back that our country wouldn’t exist save for “unrealistically idealistic” and courageous people who’d changed things. And it usually devolved from there. “I promise,” Gregg finally said, squeezing Alec’s hand.

    It was breathtaking, Gregg’s parents’ “ski chalet” – both in beauty and in overwhelming ostentatiousness. Over twenty thousand square feet, and that was just the main house out of seven buildings total that he knew of, probably more. Their main home outside of Denver was almost twice that. Alec allowed a thought to pass through his head, wondering if Trump’s penthouse and Florida mansion were bigger or smaller than these two of the Owens residences. There were more. Of course.

    Gregg’s parents were at the open door under the portico to greet them, along with three servants that Alec could see. The latter rushed the car, almost beating the distinguished and stiffly-suited older man Alec knew to be their butler, Fleming, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere to stride purposefully to meet them. Fleming did  get to the car door first, though, saving any embarrassment for him if his master or mistress sae him bested.

    They were greeted with equal enthusiasm, having accepted Alec on the spot. They took turns hugging, Mr. Owens hugging his son first and Mrs. Owens hugging and kissing Alec, then they traded, leaving Mr, Owens to walk Alec inside while Mrs. Owens held her son’s arm tight. Minions scurried and then tutted as quietly as possible when they confirmed the only luggage was the two backpacks. “They’ll have plenty more going home, Hodges,” Gregg’s mother chirped delightedly. “We’ve got loads of light winter Lauren and Hilfiger (both companies they were heavily invested in) we’ve had sent in for both our boys that will be great for California.”

    Alec shuddered slightly at that. He well knew Gregg’s mother’s voracious and expensive fashion appetites, and they weren’t the jeans and t-shirts Both Alec and Gregg were fine with. Mr. Owens felt Alec react and said quietly, so that only they could hear as Mrs. Owens chattered delightedly with – or at – Gregg, “You can always donate anything that doesn’t suit you.” He squeezed Alec’s shoulder to emphasize his own comfort with that solution.

    The vastness of the three story foyer of the house awed Alec no less than it had the first time he’d seen it. And this was dwarfed and outclassed by the Denver house. Alec came from a poor family, only his dad, who’d died a year before, leaving nothing but regrets for everything other than his son. Alec was a scholarship student at Pepperdine, courtesy of his athletic and academic prowess. By contrast, Gregg’s parents were one of the university’s top donors.

    It had started out being a problem between them, the class and economic divide between Alec and Gregg. But Gregg made it a non-issue. He was not about the money at all. That didn’t stop when the Owenses GAVE Gregg a luxury condominium on the beach for them “both” to live in. Alec got comfortable living there because Gregg made him comfortable . . . And happy and sexually satisfied and held tight every night while they slept.

    “And your sister will get in tomorrow.” Alec had tuned in just in time to hear Mrs. Owens tell Gregg that news.

    Gregg’s sister Marina was a pistol. She loved having a “big ol’ gay stud brother” and swore she knew all along. She also told him that if he ever challenged her for one of her boyfriends, she’d leave him a eunuch! She had embraced Alec, too, and she called him her “other brother,” telling him he’d made more of a man of her brother than he would have been on his own.

    Coming back to present again, Alec then laughed out loud when Mrs. Owens said, “So the house will be full by tomorrow night.” It would take a battalion to fill this place, two to fill the house in Denver. And she’d only mentioned her daughter adding to those in residence.

    Mrs. Owens turned and called her shoulder as they all four passed into a vast sitting room with a roaring fire bigger than some forest fires in a fireplace bigger than some bedrooms. “You add to the happiness of our home, Alec. Your laugh is heavy with positive energy.”

    Alec didn’t admit that it was heavier with sardonicism than sincerity, and he felt bad because it was. “You always make me feel so welcome, Mrs. Owens,” he replied by way of penance for his thoughts.

    She whirled at that, causing Alec and Gregg’s father to stop cold. “I’ve warned you about that!” She reproached Alec forcefully. “You are part of this family, and if you can’t bring yourself to give us the honor of calling us ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ then you’ll at least call us by our Christian names, Nancy and Ron.

    The absurdity of their names, given their party affiliation and power within it, was what made calling them that impossible. And, God help him, Alec just didn’t feel like they were his mom and dad, and. It for lack of their trying. “Yes, I’m sorry,” Alec answered contritely. Mrs. Owens hadn’t moved and was obviously waiting. “Nancy – uh mom,”Alec added.

    Mrs Owens used her free hand, the one she wasn’t still gripping her son with, and reached out and carressed Alec’s cheek. “Thank you, Alec. We hope you become more comfortable with us as time passes and things change.”

    “Mom!” Gregg scolded, without effect on Her whatsoever. She’d already withdrawn her hand and begun turning to continue their trek.

    Hearing “As things change” had piqued Alec’s senses and made his stomach do a flip, wondering what would change, thinking they’d probably try to find Gregg a gay scion of industry and keep Alec as a charity case! Alec wondered if they already were. Alec also wondered if people who lived this way had Fitbits, would they make their steps everyday just getting from place to place in their house? Mr. Owens – Ron – gave Alec’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they continued their journey.

    Servants who had scurried to take their coats scurried back into view with trays of cocktails, snacks and offered “anything else” they might like. Or maybe they were different, a third slew of servants, Alec thought. Alec momentarily thought ‘a plane ticket out’ in response to the offer but held his tongue when Gregg took his hand and squeezed it, seeming to read his thoughts.

    Once settled, Gregg’s parents very effectively grilled each of them on every aspect of every bit of their college life since they’d last talked in detail . . . four weeks before at a lavish Thanksgiving feast that would shame Henry VIII’s court. Classes, sports, including pointedly asking if anyone gave them any trouble for being gay on the team. They cared, but intrusive would have been about seven steps down from the level of their interest in their lives as the questions progressed. But the boys endured it, having known what to expect and, frankly, enjoying the feeling of being treated like an adult couple by Gregg’s parents.

    When they finally got some time alone in the vast set of rooms that had once been Gregg’s “quarters” at the “ski chalet” when he was younger, he closed the door to the hall behind them with a sigh of relief. Gregg pulled Alec back into him and wrapped him in his arms tight. A long, knee-weakening kiss followed, and Alec’s head was spinning. “I fucking LOVE you!” Gregg declared when their lips parted. “Partly because you do this for me.”

    Alec felt Gregg’s tight hug and the intensity with which Gregg clung to him and proclaimed his love. There was both joy and relief, but also something that sounded a bit like desperation. He tightened his own arms around Gregg and kissed his neck. “I love you more,” he said softly with a tinge of tease as he always did, but the way he nuzzled his boyfriend’s neck said he meant it. “And this is a piece of cake.”

    Gregg sighed deeply and then backed away enough to hold Alec but look directly into his eyes. “No, you couldn’t possibly. You really couldn’t,” he added with grave conviction.

    Alec brought a hand up to Gregg’s chiseled cheek. “Babe, is everything okay? Are you okay?” He was unused to seeing his gregarious jockstud lover be anything less than playful and full of optimism.

    Gregg looked down, away, another move that was very unlike him. “No, he muttered.”

    In the beat that followed, Alec’s head spun, almost out of control. His thoughts went to first terrible then unthinkable prospects. Just when his panic was about to become unbearable, Gregg, spoke again and in one swift motion was down, pushing into Alec, pulling him over his shoulder and off his feet, carrying him through the rooms to the bed. “But I know how to make it better than okay!” he told him, and they both giggled as Alec mock protested until Gregg had thrown him down and landed on top of him on the big bed.

    Gregg had Alec’s jeans open before Alec could say, “Goddamn you’re a horny fuck! But we really should–“

    Gregg stopped his protest with his lips covering Alec’s and his hand roughly cupping Alec’s recharged nuts.  The feel of Alec’s hardon throbbing against his own pulse at his wrist made him even hotter, and he sucked Alec’s face like his life depended on it.

    All protest left Alec as his determined lover assaulted and possessed his mouth. Gregg’s hand working his nuts, and Gregg’s big hard cock grinding into his groin added to Alec’s submission. “Fuck me, studman?” Alec pleaded  in a rasp against Gregg’s lips.

    Gregg momentarily stopped his conquest of Alec’s entire oral cavity to gaze hard into Alec’s eyes and answer. “Right now. I need your ass. I need to make you mine.”

    Alec tried to say he was Gregg’s and only Gregg’s and had been since that first night Gregg gave him a ride back to the dorm after work in his big, tricked-out truck. But neither his body would cooperate nor would his and Gregg’s ravenous resumed face-sucking enable him to.

    Gregg was fully covering Alec, and they were rutting like they were already naked and coupled. Alec ripped at Gregg’s expensive long-sleeved cashmere v-neck, desperate to get it off him. In a flash, Gregg ripped it up and over his head, pulling away just long enough to get it off. Their teeth clanged together when they resumed, neither caring at all.

    Somehow, moments later they were both naked, having grappled, clawed and ripped ripped off everything, even the lace-up outdoor boots both were wearing, which clattered when they flew across the room after getting free of them. Alec was spitting into his hand and wetting his hole, and Gregg was wiping precum off both their cocks and took over the lubing.

    “I want you so bad!” Gregg panted, two fingers inside Alec’s channel, rotating and prodding his spot and making him writhe with urgent need.

    “Give it to me NOW!” Alec demanded.

    Gregg was big – thick and long, a bulbous head on his cock that, on the rare times Alec was on the receiving end, gave him jolts as it spread him WIDE to pass his sphincter and then felt like a spark inducing pipe ream inside him.

    Alec’s abs were puddles with his and Gregg’s precum, which Gregg made good use of. He scooped it up, gave his knob and shaft a good greasing and then roughly wrestled Alec onto his stomach. Then, as Alec arched his back and threw his ass up wantonly, Gregg grabbed him by his waist and pulled him onto all fours with his cock jammed against Alec’s needy hole.

    “Hell yeah!” Alec cried. And then he cried out when Gregg shoved his fat head through Alec’s resistance. Sucking breath through his teeth, he forced himself to concentrate on the need and not the pain.

    Gregg stopped with only his head inside Alec’s firehole. The heat and tightness together made his cock feel like it was on fire. And then Alec pushed back, seizing another couple of inches, and Gregg was taken over completely with his desire.

    “AAAAAAAAAAAaaaaargghhhhhhh!” Alec cried into a pillow, one of his hands clutching the bedcover, the other flailing for purchase against the headboard. But he’d started it, signaled he wanted it NOW when he pushed back and claimed a full third of his boyfriend’s throbbing fuckmeat, and Gregg was pushing the rest of him in now.

    “SOOOOOOOO HOT!” Gregg exclaimed, his grip on Alec’s waist tightening to the point where his fingernails threatened to break Alec’s skin as he pulled his man onto him fully. The second ring gave way, and Gregg’s plunge the last bit was a free fall, his groin smacking Alec’s buttcheeks, both of them moaning. For a moment Gregg buckled forward, but Alec held himself rigid on his knees and elbows and bore Gregg’s weight. “God I need you!” He growled into the nape of Alec’s neck.

    “Then fucking TAKE me! OWN ME!” Alec shot back, grinding himself up on the impaling fuckrod.

    That was it, as Alec knew it would be, and no more than a moment later Gregg was pounding into him HARD, long-dicking him in slamming thrusts, quick pullouts and repeating over and over. “Jusssssst liiiiiiike THAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!” Alec’s moan was a sharply punctuated vibrato in time with the pounding Gregg was giving him.

    Gregg was lost in his own rhythm, fueled by his need to possess his boyfriend – to make Alec his always, completely, irrevocably – and the primal need to rut and unload and seed him to do just that. His sweat and spit had begun to fly, and his hips thrust wildly, without any thought whatsoever of anything other than his need.

    It had taken Alec a while to accept that Gregg’s love for him was as deep and grounded as he later knew it was. With Alec being Gregg’s first gay love, Alec was skeptical of the newbie, particularly an oversexed college boy jock newbie. He thought Gregg’s eye – or cock – would wander, captivated by the wonders of variety and ease of consummation.

    Over time, though – now getting well toward a third year together – if anything it was Alec who had to check himself. Not that he wanted anyone over Gregg; no, he absolutely wanted Gregg, it was the jock team captain he’d lusted after, jacked to and had fantasized about with other guys who couldn’t fully match what the fantasy of Gregg had offered him. But Alex was a healthy young jock, too, and he knew from his own urges and appreciation of hot men he saw that Gregg must be tempted by the same. And that’s what, ultimately, having started as fueling his fears quelled them. Gregg chose to be with HIM. Gregg showed him every day, many times, how much he loved Alec, how much he lusted for him and, most of all, how much he valued him being there with him in his life.

    Alec loved when his lover got his Alpha on. There was no competition nor contention between them, just lust and . . . love. Gregg LOVED Alec’s cock pounding him into the same oblivion, and Alec loved doing it just that way.

    Alec’s entire being was transcended. Intensity of the pleasure and pain of his lover’s use of him was exquisite. Gregg’s big cock brutalizing him, his big, muscular body slamming him outside and his enormous fuckrod reaming him raw inside. Alec was buffeted in a stormy sea of high swells of pleasure, his mind floating, his body bouncing. Every nerve seemed hyperattenuated, the overload of sensation a hum of ecstasy like a cocoon enveloping him.

    “CUM FOR ME!” Gregg commanded, as he often did, with a loud roar that, later, Alec worried might have reverberated through the house. But not then. Alec’s conscious took what feeble control it could to process the command, with sudden awareness of Gregg’s big, strong hand jacking his throbbing cock as his nuts exploded. As he went rigid under Gregg before he burst into convulsions of ecstasy as he let loose his load, Gregg yelled, “YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” in much the tone he did after a goal during an important game. Alec’s cum flowed hard against the two of them as his body pumped, his mind again surrendered to the abandon.

    Then Gregg was cumming himself. His groans, shouts, thrusts and spasms wracked both of them as he unloaded forcefully into his lover’s ravaged mancunt. He finally collapsed onto Alec with a force that took what breath Alec had, both of them heaving and panting in a sweaty, cummy heap. Alec instinctively wrapped his arms legs around Gregg and held him tight.

    Gregg was the first to speak, after gently kissing the base of Alec’s neck, on his collar bone. “I need to ask you something,” he rasped, still not completely recovered. He tried to dismount, but Alec held him tight, both with his arms and legs wrapped around.

    “Don’t leave yet,” Alec said with difficulty under Gregg’s weight of muscle and held him tighter, nuzzling his face into Gregg’s sweaty shoulder and neck.

    Gregg felt his softening cock twitch, having started an about-face, and he willed himself to be calm, to let himself come down from the intensity of the lovemaking and to talk to Alec, not allow himself to be pulled into the tide of their passions again . . . yet. He kissed Alec’s neck again and thought of losing matches, of failing grades . . .

    “What do you need to ask me, babe?” Gregg’s dick responded immediately to the “babe” like it always did, beginning to stretch Alec’s fuckchute again instantly. Alec laughed. “If that’s the question, the answer is FUCK YES!”

    They both chuckled. Then Gregg gently eased himself up a little. “I need to face you when I ask you this, Alec.” Alec’s mind went into defense mode, thinking up all the nasty, negative possibilities that could be the reason for Gregg’s intensity. And it apparently showed. “Relax, my love,” Gregg soothed. “It’s important, and it’s good.”

    Alec forced his mind to calm, forced his muscles to allow Gregg to dismount him. The grimace as Gregg’s half-hard cockhead popped through his tight fuckring was momentary but unavoidable. In response, Gregg lithely bent down, raised one of Alec’s legs and kissed the ass he’d just fucked like a caveman. “Mmmmm,” Alec moaned, then, “MMMMMMMMMMMM,” when he felt Gregg’s tongue swipe in and around once.

    Gregg left it at that, a quick hit. He raised up and smacked his lips. “DAMN, I taste good!”

    Alec backhanded Gregg’s cobblestone abs hard, eliciting a yelp and giggles. “I better taste just as good.”

    Gregg didn’t miss a beat, and with a devilish smirk he said, “Sometimes it’s the meat, sometimes it’s the sauce,” which left them both laughing.

    To Alec, Gregg was a god. His body could rival David’s easily, his cock definitely besting Michelangelo’s depiction of classic male perfection. Looking up at him, his muscles rippling with laughter, the mounds of his pecs and abs splattered with his own cumload, his thigh muscles tensed, corded like his neck . . .

    “Someone’s enjoying the view,” Gregg teased, throwing his arms up in a gun-flex that made Alec moan.

    Then, just as fast, Gregg jumped off the bed. “All of that and more, but right now . . . “ he called back as he ran to his backpack, which had been placed in their room before. As he was rustling through it, Alec enjoyed his ass, bent and bobbling, having to force himself to not jump off the bed and dive right in there.

    Gregg returned to the bed and plopped down with one leg crossed under him, causing his big, flopping cock to smack his thickly-muscled calf. Alec moaned again, and Gregg gently put his fingers until Alec’s chin and raised his head. “Up here, at least for now,” he said, smiling but very serious.

    “This is so totally the wrong way to do this,” he started, and Alec saw the box in his hand. Unmistakable. “My parents have this big party planned – they know – and I have it all scripted, and everyone’s supposed to be watching, and I –“ Gregg stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ll do all that. But I can’t wait. And as wrong as it is for me to do this when we’re all naked and fucked out here, it’s also so right that this is the way I tell you how you’re everything to me, Alec, how I love you in every way a man can love.”

    Alec’s heart was beating so fast he was almost gasping for breath. He was unable to keep his eyes locked with Gregg’s and kept stealing glances at the velvet box in Gregg’s hands.

    “I want us to make our life together, forever, Alec – or at least for as long as you’ll have me. I want us to get married. Will you? Will you marry me?” he finally got out, and he opened the box.

    Alec felt like time had stopped. Now he couldn’t stop staring at the sincerity and intensity of hope in Gregg’s gaze down at him. He finally forced himself to look at the box. Inside were two bright, gleaming, etched bands – equal, identical, though Alec knew one had to be thicker for Gregg’s beefy finger.

    Alec got himself to seated, facing Gregg. He was using every trick he’d learned in sports to control his breathing and focus, and it was still a struggle. His head was spinning, and conflict was strong in his thoughts.

    Gregg held his gaze, held the hopeful mien as Alec settled himself in front of Gregg, one of Alec’s long legs threaded over Gregg’s, the other raised at the knee just like Gregg’s. Gregg couldn’t help but notice the symmetry of the two of them, and his smile widened.

    “Gregg,” Alec began gently. “Gregg I really WANT to say yes. Because I want to be with you, to stay with you, to have you and give myself to you forever. But you’re so— Your family—“

    The second false start wasn’t stopped by his own hesitation, it was Gregg, throwing his arms around him and pulling him in tight. Strangely, Alec took note of the edge of the box against his back as Gregg clutched him. “Alec, say yes. I’m just me. And my family loves you and is behind us all the way. And nothing else matters but you and me. NOTHING! Say yes, my love,”

    Alec’s breathing stopped, and he was caught paralyzed. He clutched Gregg just as hard as Gregg was holding him, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think about all the reasons he, white trash, had no business even being there then, much less having this future.

    Gregg’s chest heaved against Alec. “If you won’t marry me, Alec, I can’t face the hole in my life it’ll leave. You’re all I want. You’ve shown me what it is to be a man. You’ve shown me what it is to be my own man. You’ve shown me what it is to be proud and good and that nothing else matters except love.”

    Alec felt the tears coming, felt his own body lurch as he struggled to control them, to control himself. That was a start – he could do that, so he could force himself to speak. But say what to Gregg?”

    “Answer me a different question, Alec. If we’d met in your hometown and were of similar circumstance, and if we’d become so in love as you and I are,” with that he comically pushed Alec to arm’s length and verified, “WE are in love, right? It’s not just me and you’re just enjoying the satiation of every lustful impulse you have, right?” Alec laughed despite himself. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Gregg soldiered on. “So if we were those two guys, would you say ‘yes’ to me now?”

    Alec couldn’t help grinning. Reality be damned. “Of course. Yes.”

    “So then, won’t you say yes to marrying me? All THAT, all THIS,” he said, sweeping his arm around the vast room they were in, “It has nothing—“

    Alec put his hand on Gregg’s very pleasing lips, stopping him. “I just did,” he said simply. Then, when Gregg faltered a moment, “That was two answers, Gregg.”

    Gregg’s face beamed and he started shouting, “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!” as he ragged Gregg off the bed in his arms and danced both of them around the room, still shouting, knocking against furniture, knocking over at least one lamp and some other things off a table. Then they were both laughing and kissing and laughing again.

    “Everything okay in there, boys?” Gregg’s father called through the door, and they were both struck still, hearing his knock. “Can I come in?”

    “UH, give us a minute, father!” Gregg shouted, stifling his giggles as Alec was while they both raced to grab their jeans.

    “They’re going to be so disappointed you didn’t wait according to plan, Gregg. No way we can pretend.”

    As Gregg buttoned his jeans and loped over to the door he told Alec, who was shoving their underwear under the bed and trying to straighten the top of the bed, a losing cause, “They’re going to be thrilled. Just as long as we give a good performance at the party!”

    Alec ran and dove into Gregg just before he opened the door. He quickly licked Gregg’s neck and then rubbed it while he handed Gregg a t-shirt while shucking on his own. “We’re splattered; cover up,” he’d whispered urgently, causing them both to go into fits of laughter which they couldn’t stop when Gregg opened the door to his father.


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