Author: admin

  • Syndrome

    Arriving back in the city, Rex and Leo parked in front of the costume slash flower shop, Mask & Rose. The reason for the odd mix was unknown, but the store was quiet profitable. Parking the bike, Leo snatched off his helmet and took in a deep breath. Rex climbed off, quickly stretching as he stared into the fancy decorated shop window.

    “What have I gotten myself into?” he asked, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

    “Something that Fishy ain’t gonna let ya get out of.” Leo said, standing behind him. He kissed the back of his head and wrapped his arm around his waist, “You’ll be okay. If it makes you feel better I’ll try on costumes, too! I’ve always wanted to dress up. It’s been so long.”

    “How long has it been? Since yesterday?” Rex teased, patting Leo’s hand with a laugh.

    “You’re such an ass. Just shameful. You could treat me nicely for one day. Especially since it’s gonna be 60 days before we see each other again. Is that too much to ask?”

    “But, this is me treating you nicely.” Rex said, breaking away from him. He flashed him a cheeky smile and headed inside. Leo followed behind crossings his arms behind his head as they strolled around looking through costume after costume.

    “So, anything interesting happen at the dungeon?” Leo asked finding a cat suit that he was desperate for Rex to try on.

    “Define interesting….” Rex said, scanning the rack for a dinosaur costume that would fit him. He eyed Leo who was holding a powder pink cat costume in front of him for a better look, “Please try that on. I’d love to have blackmail on you.”

    “Ass… I’ll have you know, this is for you to try on. Not me. And just by the way you said interesting, I’m guessing something actually happened?”

    “I’m not trying that on. I might as well be a Lolita with Fish… No way! Anyway, yeah, Holden decided to crawl out from underneath the rock he’s been dwelling under and inform Fish and me of some surprising news.”

    “What kind of news?” Leo asked, folding the cat costume over his arm.

    “Oh, Estrella has a new boyfriend. She’s out of town with him. When she gets home she’ll be bringing him with her. He says I know the guy. And as matter of fact I don’t know that many people here or anywhere. So I don’t know who he could be talking about. Plus, he said she also has a surprise for Fischer. He wouldn’t say anymore, thinking that it would, and I quote, ‘ruin’ the surprise. He’s such a git.”

    “Too bad he didn’t go with her… Who the hell could she be dating? It has to be someone who could actually hurt you…” Leo said, raking his brain for any ideas of who it could be.

    “Mmm… Well, I’m not worried. I am, but I’m not.” Rex said as his phone started ringing. He cocked his head to the side, watching Leo take his phone from inside of his pants. He handed it to him with a laugh, “Just click it on speaker. It needs a good ten gallons of disinfectant and soap before I touch it again. I actually forgot you had it…” he said, looking him up and down with his hand posted on one of his hips. Leo chuckled and clicked the phone over to speaker mode.

    REXALYNN: “Hello?”

    FISCHER: “You know when I find that thief of a boyfriend of yours, I’m gonna let him have a piece of my mind for stealing you from me?! He made you leave without saying a word! I thought you had been kidnapped by Holden and his dumb ass friends! But then I saw y’all zooming off.”

    LEONARDO: “Fish-sticks might want to take a chill pill and calms the fuck down. I didn’t steal shit. How can I steal what’s mine? You better get ya life chile.” he said, with a giggle.

    FISCHER: “No, you’d better get your life! You know what, on second thought Imma get ya life when I get there ’cause I’m gonna eff your ass up! Put Rexasaurus back on the phone.”

    REXALYNN: “I’m here… I have it on speaker because… It’s a long story that I’ll tell you about later. Is Lambert with you?”

    FISCHER: “He’s following behind me. We went to go eat, since you two still hadn’t shown up. I was tempted to buy your costume like I’d threatend but Lamb saved you, by taking me to get something to take my mind off of my vindictive plans. Are y’all there yet, or still with daycare?”

    •REXALYNN: “I’ll have to thank Lamb. Yeah, we’re here now.”

    •FISCHER: “You should indeed.

    Remind me to do something devious to Holden tomorrow when we get to school…. His ass deserves something really bad for what he said to my Lammy- chan.”

    •LEONARDO: “What’d he say to him?”

    •FISCHER: “You mean what didn’t he say?! It was horrible! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so god damn racist. I don’t know if he’s so much racist as he is stupid.” he said, explaining everything Holden had said.

    LEONARDO: “Eh, Fish-and-chips, you up for breaking into the school and leaving him a surprise? His ass is gonna get it. I’m gonna scold Lamb for not decking him. He’s too damn… Sheepish sometimes.”

    REXALYNN: “He’s not sheepish, he explained why he wasn’t going to beat him into next year. I am very proud of him. Trust me, it would’ve been beyond validated for him to wreck his face, but he would’ve been the one to pay more of a price than Holden.” he said, stuffing a unicorn costume he had accidentally come across behind a bunch of other costumes. He knew if Leo found it he’d definitely make him try it on, and he wasn’t about to suffer more than he had to.

    LEONARDO: “Bogus… Lamb can handle the time. But I get where he’s coming from. I just can’t stand ignorant ass folks.”

    FISCHER: “Me either! Ahhh! I’m hanging up. I’m a block away. Talk to you two soon.” he said, hanging up.

    “Good golly…” Rex said, finding a perfect green dinosaur suit, “Too much drama for one day. But anyway, come help me try this on.” he said, heading into one of the dressing rooms. Leo slipped Rex’s phone into his side pocket and followed eagerly, bringing along the cat costume for him to try on. “Okay, sit, close your eyes and I’ll tell you when I need help.” he said, blushing lightly.

    “I don’t know why I have to close my eyes… I’ve seen you naked, Uni. What’s one more time? I mean in all honesty, you should let me see ’cause I’ve only got a few more hours left here.” Leo said, with a cocky grin, “I’ll need a few selfies to keep my memory of you fresh.”

    “You’re lucky I let you come in here. You haven’t seen all of me… And I don’t do selfies… Especially not nude ones.” Rex said, untying his tie. He slid off his blazer and began unbuttoning his shirt.

    “Not even for me?” Leo asked, pulling him over to him. He moved Rex’s hands from his shirt and started unbuttoning the rest for him. Sliding his shirt off, he ran his hands over his breastbinder, before he leaned in a started slowly kissing him down his stomach.

    “L-Leo…” Rex moaned out, “Bad kitty… I didn’t bring you in here for… for this.” he said, feeling Leo’s hot breath across his skin. He locked one hand in Leo’s mane, gripping it lustfully.

    “I’m well aware. But what’s a dressing room without a little fun?”

    Leo asked, unbuckling his belt. He slid it off and tossed it to the floor with the rest of his clothes. Wrapping his hands around him he grabbed him by his ass and drew Rex in closer. He had one leg between his thighs as he forced him to take a seat on his lap. He continued kissing him up and down, Rex wrapped his arms around his neck as Leo’s hands found the zipper to his pants. He fiddle around with it teasing him as he pulled it down.

    “Leo… don’t…” he said, in a coy voice. He looked into his eyes, flashing a naughty smile.

    “You’re a damn tease.” Leo laughed. Rex kissed him on his cheek and climbed off his lap. He turned his back to him and slowly slipped his pants off to reveal a pair of black skull print boxer briefs. Leo traced his body from his shoulders to his ass feeling his heart began to race like a rapid dog in heat. He wanted him so badly, but he had said he was going to try to hold off. But that was before he almost got killed. Rex looked over his shoulder at him, tempting him to do as he pleased. Unzipping his binder he slipped it off onto the floor and covered his chest with his arms.

    “I thought you wanted to play with me?” he asked, climbing back on top of him. He kissed him down his neck a few times, before pulling off his sweater. He traced his fingers up the kanji tattoo on his left arm, enjoying the sensation of his bare skin beneath his fingers.

    “I do… I-I… I was trying to be good, but I really don’t wanna be right now.” he said, wishing he could hold him in his arms for an entire lifetime. He didn’t want to let him know he was even more worried about leaving him alone than before. The thought of something happening to him while he wasn’t here scared him. He wrapped his arms around him tightly, resting one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders as his hand cradled the back of his head.

    “What’s wrong?” Rex asked, sensing something was bothering him.

    “Nothing. Can’t your boyfriend just hold you? Is that too much?”

    “Yes… But knowing how deeply you think, you’re not just holding me to be romantic. You’re worried.” he said, swirling his finger around on his back.

    “We really gotta stop reading each other like this.” Leo said, unwrapping his arms from around him. He leaned back with a deep sigh, “I’m wondering if it’s really a good time to leave you alone? Holden’s making bitchass threats, and he—” he started to say as Rex cut him off with a kiss. He placed his hands against his cheeks and planted another deep kiss on his lush lips.

    “Honestly. You worry far too much. I’m not some delicate little girl who can’t take care of themselves. You should know that already. I’m just as mainly as you are, give or take a few missing male components. I love that you want to save me and keep me shielded, but I don’t need you to put your life on a shelf for me. I want you to go and have fun helping people, without worrying about me. I love you, Leo… So, don’t worry so much.”

    “I know you’re not weak, honey-venom. But, I feel like we just got past all the nonsense, only to fall back into it.”

    “Let’s just face it; drama surrounds the four of us. There’s truly no way around it. I’m trying to except it. But like with everything you do, I know you’ll find a way to rebel against such odds. That’s what you do.” he said, patting his cheek roughly. Leo rubbed his face, rolling his eyes with a light laugh. He knew Rex didn’t need him to keep him safe, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

    “You slapped me on the sly.” Leo said, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket, “I love you, too.”

    “Oh, I know you do. And it was a love tap.” Rex chuckled, “Now help me try this costume on so I can scare Fish when he gets here.”

    “Finnnneee–” he said, pushing himself up, “I really don’t know why you can’t just try on the unicorn costume you stuffed behind all those other costumes? Or this cute cat one?”

    “How did you… Never mind. I’m being a dinosaur. If you’d like to be a big, plushy, pink pussy, then be my guest.” he said, stepping into the costume, “The unicorn costume is not happening. You’ve got a damn obsession!”

    “But I like cats…” Leo said, in a low voice.

    “I met about the unicorn… But you have a sick addiction to cats, too.”

    “See if I let you strip for me later.”

    “What does that have to do with anything?!” Rex asked, pulling his arms through the sleeves. “Zip, zip.”

    “It has to do with everything. You just don’t know it, yet.” Leo laughed, zipping him up. Rex rolled his eyes, and shook his head at him with a sigh.

    ****

    Outside the dressing rooms, Fish and Lamb were busy doing their own costume hunting. Fish had already stacked up three Lolita dresses he’d found to his taste along with three wigs and an assortment of other items.

    “So, I should probably give you the heads up for when Leo pops up. But I umm… Might’ve told him about what happened at school.” Fish said, entering into a dressing room.

    “Wait, what? Oh boy… Now he’s gonna go off on me for not punching Holden out.” Lamb said, leaning against one of the other dressing room doors.

    “Nah, he understood why you didn’t beat him up.” Fish said, slipping out of his uniform. He couldn’t help wishing he’d of gotten a chance to smack the hell out of Holden himself… A beat down was surely in his future. He knew Lamb couldn’t keep getting into fights with him, but no one said he couldn’t give him a smack or two. He smiled deviously, as he looked himself over in the mirror. He couldn’t get over how nice his legs looked in the frilly lace tights, the way the corset gave him even more of an hour glass figure and the little bit of padding in the chest area didn’t look too bad either. As he continued admiring himself, Lamb’s necklace caught his attention. He wrapped his hand around it, thinking about how much he was going to miss his little sheep, “Lammy, come help me.” Fish said, getting a naughty idea. He unlocked the door, and pushed the door opened a little. Lamb took the bait as Fish snatched him over into a kiss by his tie. Lamb pulled away, quickly closing the door back before anyone caught a glimpse of their naughty play, “How much will you miss me, Lamb? I’ll miss you like crazy.”

    Lamb kissed him on his nose,

    “I’ll miss you more than the law should allow. You’re my heart and I give you mine to hold while I’m islands away.” he said, flicking his sapphire eyes up into his chestnut eyes. He caressed his face, thinking of how much he was really going to miss him. It would be hard to leave him for two months, but distance only made the heart grow founder. At least he hoped it did. Fish nuzzled his face into Lamb’s large hand not wanting him to go, but he knew that wasn’t an option…

    “I’ll gladly hold your heart while you’re gone. I’m gonna need a piece of you to keep me feeling close to you. You’d better not meet some pretty boy over there and leave me. If you do, I’ll hunt you both down and hang you from your nuts.”

    “That sounds… violent. I guess I’ll try not to. Besides, who’s prettier than you?”

    “Flattery will get you nowhere.” Fish said, pulling away from him,

    “But I’m glad you realize that I’m the prettiest damn thing you have or will ever see.”

    “You’re too much, Flores… My heart is yours, so don’t worry. I love you from the moon above and back. You’re my wild flower in a field of weeds. Besides, I know better than to cross you.”

    “Uh-huh. Well, I guess I give you permission to be captain-planet for two months. But as soon as you touch back down here, you are gonna have to save me. I’m gonna be so pent up.” Fish said, fluttering his eyes at him.

    “Hmm… Will you wear that cute little lacy set for me again?” Lamb asked, biting his bottom lip.

    “I might. I’m thinking of adding stockings and a garter belt, but I’ll just let your mind play around with that image for a bit. Of course it won’t be the same print or cut.”

    Lamb smiled, taking a seat on the small bench as he watched his freckled face lover slip into another sweet pink, frilly dress covered in layers of material, bows and pearls.

    “I’m considering a blonde wig or maybe a pink one. Although, I’ve always wondered what I’d look like with black hair. Hmm…” Fish said, taking a seat on Lamb’s lap as he slipped on a pair of pink polka-dotted thigh high socks. Lamb traced his hand up his thigh, as he nipped at his ear.

    “If only you knew how badly I want you. You look sexy in this dress. It’s taking me to all levels of horny.” Lamb whispered into his ear in Spanish.

    Fish giggled,

    “God I love it when you speak Spanish!” he said, hopping up to slip into a pair of high wedgies that fastened around the ankle. He bent down slowly, making sure to give Lamb a good view of his ass, “Maybe when you get back, you can teach me a few words?”

    “Yes. The language of love is yours to learn.” he continued in Spanish, enjoying his view.

    “Since the first thing you said was, yes, I assume that’s a, I’ll totally teach you!?”

    “For sure. I’d be glad too.” Lamb said, cocking his head at him with a laugh, as he wrestled with the wig.

    “Wicked omega! Anywho, remind me to stop by the weave store in the urban district. I need a human hair wig. This, this will never do. Like, can you say gross-omega? Seriously, gag me. This can’t be what passes for a costume wig nowadays? It’s Halloween, but I’m not trying to look ratchet. I’ll just stop in at Hair Riot and get hooked up with a Rapunzel.”

    “So, you’re getting a long wig?” Lamb asked, thinking the whole topic went far beyond him.

    “Huh? Oh, no it’s a hair type and style. I’ll show you when we get there. Hopefully Lin-na can custom me up two or three. I can use them for play time. I can do my best Beyoncè, and whip my hair around for you, while I move my hips like Shakira.”

    “You can belly dance?” Lamb asked curiously.

    “I can do many dances. Get me out of this dress and I could show you.” Fish teased, tossing him the wig, “I need to look in the big mirror. Plus I saw the cutest giant floral hair bow. I must own it, like yesteryear!!” he said, skipping out happily. Lamb shook his head, pushing himself up as he followed behind with the wig.

    As Fish stared at himself in the mirror, he instantly got an idea for a new sketch for the fashion line he’d been drawing up since he was 11. Searching around in his back pack for his sketch book he quickly jotted out a sketch. Across the store, Lamb was busy trying to put back all the other stuff Fish had found. Getting an idea, he checked his wallet to see how much cash he had, and searched the store for this floral headband Fish had been going on about.

    “Whatcha doin’ Lambchop?” Leo asked, from a hidden location.

    Lamb looked around, his eyebrows furrowing curiously.

    “Leo?” he asked, knowing exactly where he was. He walked around the round costume rack a few times before he split the costumes apart to see Leo crouched down in the middle laughing.

    “Look at your face!! I totally scared you! You were all like, L-Leo…”

    “As if! Dude, you play too much.” Lamb said, arching his eyebrow at him, “Come out of there before you get us kicked out.” he said, snatching the costumes back to how they were. He shook his head and went back to searching for Fish’s headband. That was, before Rex jumped on his back with a loud Rawr that scared the shit out of him, “What the hell!?” he yelled, trying to break his hold on him.

    “RAWR!! RAWR! Rawr!” Rex yelled out, unlocking his arms from his neck as he took off like a bullet to find Fish.

    “You get back here!” Lamb shouted, straightening out his uniform.

    “I can’t… I can’t!!” he heard Leo say as he continung laughing hysterically.

    “Ass! You and your little ‘unicorn’ are gonna get the smack down of a lifetime!”

    Over on the other side of the store, Rex was sneaking up on Fish ready to jump out for the scare of a lifetime. Fish was busy working on his fourth sketch as Rex jumped out with a big loud,

    “RAWR!!”

    “Rexasauarus!! Look at my new sketches!” Fish said excitedly, “Wow, I’m actually surprised by how cute you look. Usually dinosaur costumes are so Eww, but you look super kawaii!”

    “Aww! How’d you know it was me?” Rex asked, snatching off the dinosaur head.

    “As if I wouldn’t know my best friend! Seriously? I laugh!” Fish said, hopping to his feet, “So, whataya think? Would you do me, or would you doooo– me?” he asked, adding emphases to his last ‘do’ as he twirled around.

    “You look pretty.” Rex said, taking in all the details. It had been years since he’d wanted to dress up, especially in a dress. The thought of it repulsed him, but at the same time there was a part of him that slightly missed it.

    “Makes you want to be a Lolita with me, doesn’t it?” Fish asked in that singsong tone he used when he was trying to tempt someone to do what he wanted, “I found the perfectas dress for you. You can try it on when we get home ’cause I think it’s super darling! It has skulls, crosses, and it’s totally black. Doom and gloom all for you. And even if you don’t wear it, I can wear it for foreplay.” he chuckled, twirling around again.

    “Skulls… I love skulls…”

    “Oh, I know you do.” Fish said, taking a selfie of himself for inspiration, “Ahh, Look at my new sketches!!” he said handing him his sketch pad, “Oh, one sec before you look,” he said pulling him over to him, “I need a selfie from you, too! Say super kawaii!” he said, snapping a couple pictures. Rex quickly hopped away, leaving him to take as many glamour shots as he liked. Rex hated pictures, and that was never gonna change, he thought with a laugh. Looking down at Fischer’s new sketches he noticed the floral essence that seemed to be echoed through out his work. It was boho, feminine with a touch of masculine, meets nights in Tokyo. It was definitely fish-eseque. He swore if someone cut him open he’d bleed flowers. Although, the same could be said about his skull addiction, but that was a completely different subject.

    “These are amazing, Fish! As per the usual, from my fashion forward friend. You should totally submit these to someone. You’d be a top designer in no time.”

    “Awws!!! Thank you Rexi! I’d love for that to be my life. A big time clothing mogul! I’d totally die! Like a thousand times! But I so don’t want someone stealing my sketches… I’ve been working on these since I was a kid! That’s just sketch book number 44 of designs #435 to #475.”

    “Just? You have that many!? You’ve only shown me like three!”

    “Well, that’s ’cause those are from recent years. I redrew a lot of them and discontinued a few.”

    “How do you discontinue your own sketches?”

    “Easy! I scrap them and redraw. Silly-billy. Now I just need a name for my line. That’s the one thing I can’t seem to narrow down. I’ve got, F.G. clothing. Sounds so closed in and stiff. I know!! I’ll get y’alls opinion on me and that should give me some ideas!! Ah I’m a genius!”

    “I’m sure you are!… What type of feedback are you looking for?” Rex asked, flipping through a few more pages.

    “Mmm, like three words that describe me. And– go!”

    “There aren’t just three words that describe you.” Rex said, staring at him with a quizzical expression.

    “Why are you staring at me like some type of doll? Blink!! You will give me three adjectives, or I will destroy that skull print satchel bag you’re super attached to!”

    “Evil!! That’s one!” Rex snapped, pretending to cry.

    “Good, good! Keep going.” Fish chuckled, standing with his hands on his hips.

    Rex sighed,

    “Flowerchild, naked… Since you rarely like to wear clothing.”

    “I can’t help that I’m confident with my body. It deserves to be shown off. Don’t hate player!” Fish said, crossing his arms over his chest, with a smug smile.

    “No one cares! Anyway, feisty, flirty, eccentric…”

    “I’ll teach you to be comfortable naked, too. It’s way too fun to be a nudist. I should go live in a nudist reserve. I’d be so happy! But yeah, those words work! Ohhh!! I want something cute… Damn. I know there’s a name…”

    “Kingfisher?” Rex asked.

    “Ahhh that’s so fucking radical I could scream!” Fish said, letting out a high pitched scream of happiness.

    “Indeed. You could use this bird that is called a kingfisher. It’s rather pretty for a bird. Or you could also call it confused birds. I think that’s also cute. For people who dance to their own drumbeat. I believe you could still use the kingfisher for your logo, too. It’s kind of a play on your name and your ruling in the fashion world. Not to mention, it’s a bird. So, now your two million designs have a name.” Rex laughed. As they continued their fashion talk, Lamb and Leo made their way over to them.

    “Rex!” Lamb said, putting him in a headlock, “You’re so gonna get it for jumping on me with your surprised Dino scaring ass.”

    “Oh, hey Lamb…” Rex chuckled, giving him a smile.

    “Don’t you hey me! You scared the shit out of me! I should snap your head off. Leo I expect this from, ’cause his ass has Peter-Pan-syndrome…”

    “I resent that!” Leo said, turning his attention to Fischer who was busy taking another selfie, “Nice legs, Raggedy Andy.”

    Fish flipped him off,

    “You know you like it… Don’t front.”

    “Oh I soo like it, baby.” Leo said, sarcastically.

    “Well, that’s good. So, does it look like it fits in all the right places? Rex wouldn’t answer me, but I know you’ll probably be too blunt. You’re like a child who doesn’t know how to lie correctly. But don’t I make a convincing girl?”

    “You didn’t ask me that… You asked me if I would do you.” Rex said, still caught up in Lamb’s choke hold.

    “Irregardless…” Fish said, rolling his eyes.

    “That’s not a word.” Rex piped up.

    “Eff you, Eff your all knowing thesaurus mind.” Fish said, sticking his tongue out at him, “Fine, may I use the word irrelevant?”

    “I’d use nevertheless, but irrelevant is at least a word.” Rex said, debating between the two words.

    “Seriously omega?!” Fish asked, giving him a look like whatever.

    “AHH!! I just understood the nickname, Rexasaurus!” Leo said happily. The three of them just stared at him, “What? Why are y’all staring at me like I’m a dummy?”

    “No reason…” They said in unison.

    “Back to my question at hand, before I was interrupted by the word police…” Fish said, quickly side eyeing Rex with a sharp glare, “Girl, convincing or not?”

    “Oh, I mean I guess.” Leo said, shrugging his shoulder, “Is this as dolled up as you planned to get?” he asked, gesturing his hand up and down at him.

    “I’m already pretty!” Fish said, hitting him with the matching purse he had found.

    “Oww! Calm your harajuku ass down, lil’ Tokyo.” Leo said, putting his hands up in defense, “I was just asking…” he said, crouching down with his hands over his head as Fish continued beating him with the purse.

    “Those two…” Lamb said, watching them bicker.

    “There aren’t enough words to describe them.” Rex said, with a laugh.


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


  • Claude

    This happened maybe a week after I turned 18. My father had died when I was young and my cousin Alex and I became nearly inseparable. It was more like we were brothers than cousins. Because he was a year older he was my mentor and my go to person for things I didn’t understand. Mostly my questions were about girls and sex. He told me about a friend he’d met that provided booze and pot to the kids that visited him. I wasn’t into either but I did secretly lust for men. But at this point in time I hadn’t told Alex about my desires or acted on them yet. 

    One weekend I met Claude. He was a forty year old man that reminded me of Gene Kelly, his face, that is. I was instantly attracted to Claude. He liked to wrestle with the boys that visited after they’d had a few drinks. I was always turned on watching them wrestle but was too shy to get involved myself. If things went further than the wrestling, I wasn’t aware of it.

    One weekend Claude invited me over. I was surprised when I got there to find I was the only one there. We talked and I actually had a few drinks. Claude started to wrestle with me a little. I was a little nervous because I’d never been touched by a grown man before. 

    I was very attracted to Claude. He had a very hairy chest and I was fascinated by the way it looked. And now I got to feel that hairy chest rubbing against my smooth body as we wrestled. 

    Suddenly, I felt him putting something on my wrists. When I looked down, it was handcuffs. I got very scared, but knew he wasn’t really planning to hurt me. 

    He got a rope and threw it up over the beams on the porch. Then he tied the end of it to the cuffs and my arms were raised above my head. My shirt was already off. 

    Now Claude had me helpless. As I hung there he unsnapped and unzipped my pants and then pulled them and my underwear off my hips, down my legs and off. I was embarrassed and scared. He pulled back the foreskin and examined my cock. Then he started stroking my cock with one hand and rubbing my entire body with the other. But due to my emotional state, I didn’t get hard. 

    Once he saw that I was genuinely afraid, Claude let me down and removed the handcuffs. But I didn’t leave. I was kind of liking this game but because it was all new to me, for some reason I didn’t allow myself to enjoy it.

    Claude obviously could see I was ok so after a few more drinks, he manipulated things so I had him in handcuffs. We were in his back yard so I got him up against a tree and tied him to it.  He was much bigger and stronger than me so he could have stopped this from happening, but he knew what he was doing. 

    One of the gags he pulled on his victims was to smear whip cream all over them, so I decided to do that to him. I got a can of whip cream from his refrigerator and sprayed a big glob on his very hairy chest and started smearing it all over him. I was totally turned on feeling his hairy chest, stomach and arms. Turned on, I sprayed whip cream on his nipples and started sucking on them. I felt them harden and get erect in my mouth.   

    Claude moaned and when I looked down and his cock was standing at full attention. All eight fat inches of it. It was the biggest cock that I’d ever seen and so beautiful. I got more whip cream and smeared it all over his erect cock. The feel of his big beautiful hard cock sliding in and out of my slippery hands was intoxicating. Going to my knees, I started licking the whip cream off. I could tell Claude was really enjoying this as much as I was. 

    Without thinking I took him in her mouth and started sucking him hungrily. I licked his balls and cock then started to stroke him while telling him what a great cock he had. “You little fucker,” he moaned, writhing under my attentive hands and mouth. Soon, he was breathing harder and faster and moaning, ” You’re going to make me cum, you little fucker.” 

    This just made me more determined to keep stroking and sucking his rock hard cock. Suddenly Claude hips started thrusting, plunging his cock in and out of my mouth. He let out a loud, “Uuuuuuugh,” and his cock erupted in my mouth. Shocked I jerked back, causing him to shoot hot cum all over my face. The first shot hit me just below the right eye, but I didn’t pull back because I was too shocked. The second shot followed pretty quickly after that and got me right on the nose. It began draining off the end of my nose and caused it to itch like hell, but things were moving too quickly for me to react to it.

    The third shot followed right on the mouth, and a fourth shot hit me square in the right eye. I hadn’t anticipated the facial but it didn’t gross me out too badly. He let go of my hair, and I stood up and started trying to wipe the cum out of my eyes with my fingers. “Those were some good shots. I hope you enjoyed that.” I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do at this point so I just stood there for a minute.   

    After Claude’s cock went limp, I released him and we went inside for another drink and some interesting conversation. The barrier had been broken and it wasn’t long before I was down on my knees between his wide spread thighs. I reach down to gently touch his hard, throbbing cock. I took it in my hand, caressing it gently, rubbing the shaft and moving down to caress his balls. I could tell he enjoyed my touch as he arched his back, pushing himself toward me, I could feel his erection growing in my hand. 

    I licked my lips and then licked and kissed the tip of his hard throbbing cock. I could still taste his cum as ran my tongue all over the head.
    His hand on the top of my head pushing, I slowly move down his thick shaft and gently kiss his hairy balls, licking them, running my face over them, and then sucking one at a time every so softly. 

    I heard Claude moan, “Ooohhhh, yessssss.” as he ran his fingers through my hair.  I rubbed my face over his entire cock before taking the head into my mouth and running my tongue all over it. Opening my lips, I started to softly suck him into my mouth. I found the smoothness of his skin to be sensual and powerful at the same time. I could taste the saltiness of it.

    I again took the head out of my mouth and run my tongue under it, licking and teasing the frenulum, the indentation on the underside of the cock where the head meets the shaft. Moving back up, I part my lips and sucked him back into my mouth. My right hand encircled his shaft, and I started to rhythmically stroke him in time with the bobbing action of my mouth. As I can feel his excitement grow, I take more of him into my mouth. I run my tongue over it before I gently suck him in and then almost out of my mouth. My hand caress his balls as I take as much as I can into my mouth. 

    Bobbing my head I start to move my mouth up and down his thick shaft, taking him deep on each stroke.  I bob and suck, and bob and suck, faster and faster until finally with a powerful moan, I felt Claude tense up as he neared an orgasm. I felt his cock pulse in my mouth with each wave of ecstasy and after his energy was spent, Claude slowly pulled me up and give me a kiss. As he slide his tongue deep into my mouth, we stare deep into each other’s eyes. I think the kiss pretty well summed up what I’d become.

    I became a regular visitor at Claude’s but never when anyone else was there. I sucked his cock two or three times a week that summer and only stopped when he suddenly moved away. I heard rumors but they were never confirmed, that his sudden move had something to do with giving alcohol and pot to minors. I’d kept our relationship discrete enough that no one suspected we’d had a relationship.

    College is a time for experimentation and once I was away from home and the prying eyes of a small town, I experimented. I had two different male and one female lover my freshman year. Usually during a late nigh studying secessions at the library I found myself thinking good thoughts about Claude and wondered what had become of him. Where ever he was I wished him the best.    


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


  • Homeless for a Night

    HOMELESS FOR A NIGHT

                                                                   by Mighty Mouth

                I’m Jack, and I am 45 years old.  I live in a very large city and there are many homeless here. I see them on the street all the time, and wonder how they got into that situation. I have also, on occasion, thought about what it might feel like to be homeless.

                I finally screwed up enough courage to try it. I bought a small bed roll, which I heavily soiled with dirt and gravy stains. I took my oldest blanket and cut several holes in it. I didn’t shave for 5 days before I took the plunge, dressed in worn-out clothes. I wanted to look as authentic as possible.

                I left my apartment at about 10 p.m. with $20, which I put in an secret pocket that I had sewed on the inside of my jeans, and it was not visible from the outside. Not having experience on where to “pitch my tent,” I stretched out beside a newsstand.  But it was at a very busy intersection, and I realized that I would get no sleep at all. So I went looking for a quieter place.

                I came across a triangle, where three streets met, and it was almost deserted. I settled in, very nervous, but excited just the same. Soon three Salvation Army ladies appeared. One asked, “Why don’t you come with us to our shelter, you will get a nice meal and a bath. And Jesus will help to turn your life around.”

                I angrily replied, “Why don’t you ladies get the fuck out of here and let me be?” After more pleading one of the three said, “Well, I guess this case is hopeless, let’s move on.”

                I tried to settle down, but soon a good-looking guy in his 20s approached. He didn’t come close, he stopped about 10 feet away from me. He was carrying a camera and what looked like a tape recorder. I wondered, “What’s this all about?”

                He practically yelled out, “Hey, my name is Ted, and I’m doing an article for the Daily Journal on the homeless.”

                I replied, “Why don’t you come closer? I won’t bite you.” Of course if I could have gotten his dick in my mouth, I certainly wouldn’t have bitten it.

                But he answered, “I prefer not to.”

                I wondered, “Is this what the homeless have to put up with every night?” So I shouted back at him, “Why don’t you be on your way, you coward!” With that he left, and once again I tried to “relax.”

                About 10 minutes later, I saw another guy coming in my direction. This one was carrying the tell-tale bedroll, but he looked as if he was on the way to or from the gym. He was handsome, muscular, and appeared to be in his late 20s.

                He said, “Hey good buddy, can I camp out here with you? You know it’s always safer in a group than being alone.” I was sure he wouldn’t rob me, because who in their right mind would try to rob a homeless guy?”

                Naturally I replied, “Be my guest. I feel more comfortable with company too.” With that he stretched out his bedroll beside me and lay down, pulling his blanket over his shoulders..

                “My name is Joe. How long you been on the street?” he queried.

                I told him my name was Jack, and added, “Well, to be honest, this is my first night and I am very nervous.”

                He assured me, “don’t worry man, nobody will bother you, not even the cops.”

                “How do you know that?”

                “That’s because I am a cop.”

                I froze. “What the hell, are you undercover?”

                “Not exactly. I used to be a cop until 3 months ago when I hit the streets.”

                I was completely taken aback. “What on earth happened to you?”

                “I lost my wife, my job, I no longer have a badge, and my life is destroyed.  I don’t know how to get out of this mess,” he confessed.

                “So how did this happen to you, if I may ask?”

                “One word – amphetamines.”

                “But how did that come about?”

                Joe replied, “It’s simple. A friend introduced me to them and I got hooked fast.”

                Worried, I asked bluntly, “Are you still on them?”

                “No, I checked into a clinic, and when I kicked the habit, they discharged me. But my wife nor the force would take me back again, and I lost all self-confidence. I really want out of this hell.”

                “And why are you on the street?” he quizzed

                I replied, “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.” Then I said, “I’m a cocksucker and would love to give you a blow job.”

                “You’re kidding. I haven’t had any sex in so long I forgot what it’s like.”

                “Well, I can quickly refresh your memory,” I told him. I stuck my head under his cover, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled out a big dick. “What a big dick you’ve got,” I exclaimed.

                “Yes, and I am damned proud of it too.”

                When I swallowed his prick, he commented, “Damn, you give good head!”

                I cautioned him, “If anyone comes nearby, just tap me on the shoulder and I’ll stop until they pass by.” As expected, he shot his load quickly, and thanked me for the favor. Then I realized that  I had finally become a cop sucker, a long-wished-for occurrence.

                He fell asleep fast, and I finally managed to get some shut-eye.  At the crack of dawn, I woke him, and said, “Let’s get out of here. I know a place that will take you in.”

                “What is it?”

                “It’s a private apartment,” I assured him.

                “You gotta be kidding,” he exclaimed.

                “Just come with me,” I assured him.

                We both packed up and walked six blocks to an apartment building.

                Joe looked very puzzled when we arrived. “Whose place is this?”

                “It’s mine. I live here.”

                “What the hell! Then why were you sleeping on the street.”

                So I had to confess.  “I always wondered what it would be like, and I found out. One night for me is enough. I prefer the comfort of my little apartment.”

                When we entered Joe remarked, “Hey this is a cool pad you got here.”

                I realized that I might be taking a terrible risk, but I blurted out, “Yes, and you are welcome to sack out on my couch whenever you wish.”

                Joe exclaimed, “Good God!  I can’t believe this! Why are you so generous?

                “Because I like you and I trust you,” I replied.

                “Well, you are a wonder. I accept your offer,” Joe gushed.

    Dear Reader. Should I write more episodes?  Mighty Mouth.

  • A Marine, A Judge And An Inspirational Surfer

    It’s damn cold on the mid-Atlantic since we came home from our December Hawaiian vacation, but we’re keeping ourselves warm reliving our fun times there. As always, my journaling pays off. And another of the more memorable times I took the opportunity to write-up and submit. Hope you enjoy half as much as we enjoyed when it happened.


    A Marine, A Judge And An Inspirational Surfer

    by BillyC 
    [email protected]


    We’d driven up to the North Shore in my husband’s parents’ big convertible Bentley to check out the surf meet. The difference between a meet and a competition escaped us. We just knew that they’d been advertising the Billabong Pipe Masters since we’d got there, and the day dawned sunnier than the others we’d had, so when we caught a news snippet that the surfing was on for the day that was all we needed to hear. We fired up the beast and cruised up the windward side of the island from my in-laws’ house, where we were spending the entire month. I know – niiiiiiiiiiiice!

    I should also add that we didn’t much care whether it was a meet or a competition. There were going to be a bunch of surfers there, and that provided the draw. Every poster, every ad, every sandwich board walking Kalakaua all had pics of HOT men, sculpted torsos flexed in the sun, surf spraying in the background . . . I almost hadn’t noticed Billabong was the prominently-displayed sponsor and wouldn’t have had Jim not said something about how my butt would look in Billabong board shorts.

    The coast of Oahu is breathtaking, and the windward side is a rare treat, as we spend most of our time when we’re there in and around Waikiki and Pearl Harbor. Having lived in an apartment off base in Kaneohe when I served at MCBH – otherwise known simply as Kaneohe – I was probably predisposed to that southeastern area over the more commercialized southern areas of the island, the richer areas. Whatever the reason, after we finished our early morning run, and has some us-time afterward, the ride up the coast in the morning sun with the top down was glorious.

    When we got up to the Banzai area, west of Turtle Bay on the northern tip of the island, we found out that the meet was not the actual Pipe Masters, but a lead-up practice day. We were not deterred in our enthusiasm. “We’ll probably find parking easier,” I told Jim, who was driving, thinking of the expensive car and no valet parking in sight.

    My husband agreed. “Probably be a lot of cars for the surfers without the press and broadcasters and most of the spectators.” As it turned out, there were a couple of sponsor kiosks, much like gear rental setups by a pool, or lube and condom companies sponsor stations at a circuit party, and there weren’t a tremendous crowd of cars around there. Before I could express my surprise, Jim turned the Bentley off the road, and we were bumping up onto the berm, feet away from the dropoff down to the beach.

    Jim!” I gasped as we hit ruts and bumps over the grass and sandy area the few feet before he stopped us. I still am not acclimated to the way his parents consider things I could never have imagined having the use of – a jet, expensive cars, huge estates – as if they were tossaway or at least like they weren’t ridiculously expensive . . . like a Bentley. To him, to them, it was just a car, and there were plenty of other cars parked up there, so why not?

    “We’re fine here, Billy,” Jim calmed me. “This big daddy would probably do better up here in the sand on the palisades than that little SUV or pickup,” he speculated, waving his hand at a couple of the nearest cars parked around us. “And look,” he added, gesturing forward.

    It was, in fact, a perfect view. We were feet from the edge with an obstructed view of the wide expanse of sea in front of us, ten or twenty boards and surfers dotting the high swells and, as we could already see, riding a few mini-pipeline waves breaking. Wow!

    Jim had another idea which gave me pause, but I accepted his suggestion that we sit up on the back, our legs hanging into the seat, where we could cast our views through the binoculars and see every heave of each surfer’s chests. The breeze was strong enough to be refreshing but not problematic, and we could look out, right over the top of the windshield.

    We spent a couple of hours watching, until late morning when we saw the surfers begin to leave after the high tide was far enough gone to make it not worth their while any longer. We got our trash and recyclables properly disposed of, used the porta-johns they’d set up and headed back to the car to head out. Unfortunately, when we got there, neither of the cars which had parked behind us had left yet, nor were their drivers anywhere to be seen. We both thought the same thing – there were worse places to be stuck than the amazing North Shore coast of Oahu.

    We hung out a bit talking to other spectators and people with the competition and some of the surfers. The surprising part were there were easily a third of the surfers our age! The sun was perfect by then, and the breeze was still just enough but not too much, so not blowing the sand all around. And the sun and residual moisture on the surfers’ mostly exposed upper bodies, with our now close-up view, was definitely . . . inspiring.

    We went back to the car to wait when people were thinning. About thirty feet from us was an ancient mini-pickup that I noticed shortly after we’d settled back into the amazingly comfortable despite the sun leather seats and put our heads back to enjoy the sun to the fullest. I’d heard someone, and a thirty-something Hispanic-looking surfer loped up energetically with his longboard. His wet suit was down, and his upper body was magnificent on display – broad shoulders, visible parts deeply tanned, exquisitely chiseled, a coating of thick, dark, short fur that withstood the ravages of the sun and salt better than the lighter hair on his head and arms. His wet suit exposed his Adonis belt as well as his thickening treasure trail as it met his pubes. I might have licked my lips . . . or, as Jim later said, smacked them; but I don’t remember that!

    Surfer stud neither notices us nor the out-of-place vehicle we were in. He put his board in the back of the pickup, tail of the board up over the cab of the little truck, and tied it down with a bungie which I vaguely remembered wondering if it would be enough to hold the board if he headed into the wind. I was watching – reflexive recon, Jim calls it, and I’ll accept that in this case graciously –and as he moved around the truck after the tie-down I enjoyed the sight of his lean musculature in motion. His great shoulders and thickets of dark pit fur in the deep recesses underneath was particularly eye-catching, dick-stracting.

    I’m not certain what snapped me out of that reverie, maybe my brain was just finished processing information I’d surveyed because I became aware of and looked back toward the bumper to see one among several bumper stickers (a ton, actually) was one “FAT COCKS ROCK!” in rainbow colors, I might add, that made me laugh out loud as I processed it.

    Meanwhile, the surfer stud strips off his wetsuit right there next to the truck, and he’s got nothing on beneath it. That seems to be the way, as we’d seen more than a few along the roads around the island, but not right there, on display not far from us, a rather good show indeed. They just seem to not notice or not care that there is traffic whizzing by when they drop trou and towel off and change. This one’s toweling his junk as we’re ogling, and he and notices us watching . . . and grins and takes his time, making sure we had a good view whichever front or back he was toweling, both of which he took extra care to towel completely. He finally slips on some boxer briefs or a swim suit that looked like boxer briefs, knocks the sand off his flip flops and, surprising both of us, strides over to our car.

    I’ll hasten to add that this was just after our pool boy sexploit . . . or incident, depending on how you look at it, probably both ways. So my husband’s very low “You wanna do this again?” made me take pause. Did I? Did he? I quickly aborted my ruminations and did my best to adjust my easily-visible hardon in my own board shorts before surfer stud closed the gap and got to the car.

    The surfer introduced himself buoyantly as “Rob” and asked if we surfed despite it being obvious we didn’t (or weren’t there to) because of the obvious absence of boards. He clearly made nothing to talk about into as long a chat as possible – the car, the surfing, surprised that we were visiting because of the car, where we were from, where we were staying . . . He generally hung around as long as he could, well past being obvious, and conversation was faltering.

    Finally, I told him his bumper sticker had caught our attention and that his little “show” was icing on the cake, that we’d enjoyed and appreciated it.

    Rob smirked and informed us, “You’d be surprised how much cock that bumper sticker gets me.” He waited a beat.

    I finally say, “Well, Rob, then we don’t have to feel so bad not offering ours since you won’t go wanting,” and I waived my wedding ring. I know I wasn’t imagining that Jim let out a breath across the wide expanse of the car from me when I then declared our non-interest.

    He just smiled and said, “I’d have regretted not trying. You guys are a HOT couple.” Thankfully he didn’t add . . . of daddies!

    Jim leans over and says low enough not to be heard by Rob, against my side of the car, “Had enough daddy play for one week?” and I realized that not only was Jim thinking the same thing, Rob probably did perv on us as daddies. Well, it hadn’t been so bad with Coby the pool boy!

    “We’ve had enough. For now,” I told him with an appreciative grin, but apparently not quiet enough.

    Rob quickly interjected, “That mean I might enjoy you two at another time?”

    “Oh, uh, I didn’t mean—“

    “What my husband means,” Jim saved me from my stammering, “Is that we RARELY play with others. I mean basically we don’t. Except very rarely.” I wasn’t unhappy to see he was as unnerved by the hot surfer flirting with us – hell, propositioning us! – as I was. “But if we were of such a mind, you’d certainly be a tasty dish for us to . . . consume.”

    My husband is the most charismatic man I’ve ever met. It’s natural for him, easy, even when he’s uneasy himself. He’s also sexy as all fuck! Rob was almost swooning, despite being rebuffed, and I hazarded a glance down and noticed his thin, tight swim suit was considerably tighter than it had been, a prominent, obvious bulge clearly showing his interest.

    A part of me wanted to keep teasing Rob the hot surfer, whose fresh-ocean-combined-with-sweaty-man scent I could make out as the breeze came from behind him toward us. I wanted to keep him there until we had him good and worked up, see how big a wet spot we could get him to make in those skimpy swim trunks. It was my nature.

    Rob saw me, saw where I was looking and leered at me. “Still resolved toward monogamy?” he asked me pointedly, his smirk filthy.

    Jim squirmed a bit, and he looked at me questioningly. I just game him a mea culpa look and adjusted myself again. To Rob, “Still resolved, Rob. Sorry, but as hot as you are, I’m sure you have plenty of prospects available.”

    “Ahhhh, flattery WOULD get you everywhere, Bill. But I guess you’ll be enjoying each other, and DAMN, I wish I could at least watch!”

    “Well, that gives us another thing we’ll miss out on. Good luck with your surfing, Rob,” I told him.

    Rob waggled his eyebrows. “I’m not actually part of the competition. I’m just here for the surfers,” he admitted with a smirk. And before either Jim or I could say anything, his eye caught what turned out to be a big blond hunk carrying a board to one of the cars parked to the side of us. “Hey, Chad!” he called to him. “Gotta go, guys,” he threw to us, loping off around the front of our car off just like that, his bulging briefs leading the way.

    “Guess Chad is going to get lucky,” Jim cracked, settling back but pulling the rear-view mirror so he could watch to see when one of the cars behind us moved.

    “I think I know a certain judge who’s going to get lucky,” I mugged back to him, “Just as soon as you can get us somewhere a bit more,” and with a firm grab of his readied cock, “Private.”

    Jim put the seat back into driving position, hit the ignition and got that huge car forward, back and around and through the cars around us and out onto the highway in moments, us bumping about like loose cargo. A little over-enthusiastic, Jim gunned the Bentley’s big engine, and with a loud chirp of our tires which I hadn’t imagined possible from that behemoth we were speeding northeast on 83 up toward the cape.

    We were laughing like a couple of schoolboys, dangerously playing grab-ass – but with crotches – as the big convertible roared unsteadily down the highway. When we finally got to the Turtle Bay resort, Jim sharply steered the car into the drive and roared up to the entrance. “What?” I started, but Jim’s grin told me what he had in mind.

    I’d stayed at the Turtle Bay Resort almost twenty years before, and my stay had included a particularly memorable sojourn with a hot local serviceman. I wasn’t the least bit sorry for the knowledge that the memory my studly husband and I were about to make would put that time before well into second place in my mental scrapbook for Turtle Bay.

    Jim threw the valet a twenty in passing and told him to hold the car in case we came back out, but he’d bounded out of the car and never broke stride until he hit the front desk, not even trying to conceal the obscene protrusion down the leg of his board shorts. His thousand-watt smile won over the young, jockish desk clerk, along with his Black Amex that he plopped down on the check-in counter, and served to have him trying to contain his grins at us as he found their “best available room with a king-sized bed” and checked us in. When he asked how many keys, Jim answered with a conspiratorial grin, “One is fine – we plan to be together the entire time.” I swear the look on the handsome clerk’s face and the noise he made involuntarily, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d cum in his pants just thinking about what we’d be doing.

    Key in hand, Jim playfully raised it high and said, “SCORE!” as he turned and grabbed me. He tugged me into some weird victory lope across the lobby to the elevators, and I didn’t bother to point out that with a Black Card, it wasn’t so much of a score for us as for the hotel, who no doubt would not be giving any discounts on the rate.

    We did score with an elevator car to ourselves, and Jim wasted no time in launching himself into me, shoving me against the side-wall, devouring my mouth with his and humping into me as he groped me with one hand and swiped at the elevator panel with the other. My husband is a talented man, particularly when he wants cock. He got the right floor and got a tight grip on my swelling cock, all the while humping his own hardon into my thigh. “GOD I FUCKING WANT YOU!” he gasped at one point. I didn’t have time to respond before he had my mouth covered again, my tongue frantically matching his.

    I’m not really certain why we spent the money on the hotel suite. As worked up as he was – and that got me revved from zero to redline just as fast – we could have pulled the stop on the elevator and made done with it right then and there. When the electronic bong finally came and the doors opened, it was just in time to stave off two very premature climaxes.

    Jim stepped into the doorway to hold the elevator door open and pulled me to him, both of us panting. Wrapping his arms around me tight, and surprising me after the intensity of our clench inside the elevator, he kissed me very deeply and gently. As we kissed, my hands found his perfectly-formed bubble butt and squeezed. Jim moaned long and erotically into my mouth and pushed his butt back harder into my hands. “Yours,” he murmured through shallow breaths.

    “Mine,” I murmured back against his lips.

    At any given time the force of my husband’s love and lust and admiration and support and constantly expressed gratitude for me in his life awed me. When it was lust, it both awed me and ignited me. Not many men pushing fifty would be lucky enough to have a stud like my stunningly handsome, built, wonderful husband cock-crazed for them. Fortunately, my overactive cock and nuts usually took over at the point where awe paralyzed me and neutralized the two forces, allowing my own lust, need, appreciation, love, gratitude to respond in kind. Finding the opening and going long down the center as it were. The long, lingering kiss, lasting even after the elevator started buzzing, and the door was bucking against Jim’s back in its effort to close, served to tip the scales back, and I had to struggle to keep standing, despite my husband’s tight embrace.

    “C’mon, lover,” Jim whispered huskily, having broken the kiss but not separated, his forehead against mine. But he didn’t move.

    The buzzing went from intermittent to constant, doors from bucking to a constant pressure to close, bringing Jim into me tighter as he stood as sturdy against them as he could.

    We’re both big men. My husband is almost six-seven so about two inches taller than I am, with broader shoulders than mine – like a surfer’s even though I taught him how to surf! – and more mass on his frame than mine. We’re both very lean, very muscular; but if you can call a guy over six-four and a half wiry, that would best describe my frame at two-ten of single-digit bodyfat. Jim’s carries more mass, all in his pecs, ‘ceps, delts, traps, lats, quads and calves, but it’s all muscle. His bodyfat comes in about nine to eleven percent, depending on the test, but you’d never know he’s got proportionately more than me from looking at his ripped, chiseled bod, head to toe. Our waists are the same despite the height difference, an easy thirty-one, closer to thirty but we both like to be comfortable in our slacks and jeans. So if you’re keeping track, factoring his body fat and two-thirty-five weight to mine, he’s got two inches in height on me, fifteen pounds of muscle on me and a half-inch in . . . length. Damn I’ve always loved fucking big men!

    As side note, my father and mother are both naturally thin and very tall. My father I remember used to always look like his pants were a little baggy at the waist, though they seemed to fit him otherwise. I thank them for my genetics – for my build and ease of maintenance – often! Jim’s parents aren’t quite as thin as mine, more like muscular natural athletes, but my husband has equal gratitude for his genes, and he’s passed them on to his son . . . all of them. Gay men often aren’t so lucky and STRUGGLE to get to the “acceptable gay norm” which has to be a murderous burden. For me and my husband, whose bodies take little to keep them toned, and whose lives include craving for as much physical activity as we have time for and can fit in the weather of the season, it’s a piece of cake. Although I hasten to note that as I hurtle toward fifty, that piece of cake is getting less and less tasty!

    Jim put up good resistance against the persistent elevator door – great core and leg strength – as we savored our moment forehead-to-forehead, but when he reached down and grabbed my cock through my shorts and got a sharp gasp from me as my entire body tensed, he knew it was time to move it to somewhere more suitable. Jim kissed me again, that time quickly, and asked, “When was the last time you had a hot fuck in a hotel, stud?” with a grin on his face.

    “In a half-hour or so, I’ll be able to answer that with today’s date. Think you’re up to it, Your Honor?” I taunted him.

    In answer – or instead of an answer to my asinine question – he grabbed my cock tighter. “God, Billy, you’re perfect for me.”

    In truth, we’d has some awesome sex a month earlier in a swank hotel on the Via Veneto in Rome. So awesome that the occupants of at least one room adjacent to the suite my husband had arranged gave us knowing, filthy looks a couple of times. Maybe they were just looks of regret that they weren’t in there with us!

    He tugged me free of the frantic elevator doors, laughing but holding eye contact with me as he moved backward, only throwing his eyes momentarily from side to side to find the room number guide on the wall. When he had, my hand in his –regrettably, but in the favor of good sense and decorum, he’d released his grip on my cock – he backed down the hall holding my gaze, grinning like he’d won the prize.

    Needing to speed up our progress to a place where I could do more than WANT what my husband’s intent promised, I pushed him playfully and then dragged him forward with me, speeding up our progress down the hall. I didn’t know the room number, but Jim did, and he was looking ahead far down the hall, checking numbers to the side occasionally.

    It seemed like forever, but it really wasn’t until we ran out of hall. A set of solid double doors, one with a plaque that I didn’t have a chance to read because Jim had so quickly swiped the card and swung open, both of us hurrying inside, urgency rekindled. I know my nuts didn’t care what the hell the name of the suite was!

    I may have mentioned, my husband is used to his family’s and his own wealth – luxurious things, luxurious accommodations, hell, luxurious underwear! So he didn’t gasp when we walked into an immense living room type space with two walls of windows. The windows overlooked the beautiful west point of Turtle Bay to the north and the expanse of the North Shore to the west and running southwest, both with expansive panoramas of the beautiful tropical Pacific beyond. I did – gasp. When I’d stayed in that same hotel, when MCBH didn’t have any space open in the BOQ, in ’98 my room was about a tenth the size of the living room we were in alone. Looking farther to the left, there were doors open to a vast bedroom, also with a wall of windows continuing from the other side of the wall the bedroom shared with the living room, completing the view southwest down the north shore across and beyond where we’d been at Banzai.

    While I stood there gaping out the windows, having gravitated closer to them, Jim had been busy. “Hey!” he called sharply. I turned and found him standing stark naked, his huge hardon waving in front of him, heavy, hairy bull balls dangling tantalizingly underneath, swaying just enough to force me into a struggle to not become mesmerized. “I didn’t pay good money to spring for this room for you to ogle the view!”

    Jim’s hands were on his hips, his v-shaped torso well-presented as were his big volleyball-sized shoulder caps. He threw his elbows out farther in a flex pose that made my breath catch. The view of Hawaii and its coast and surrounds would never be less than breathtaking to me; but my husband, naked, was heart-stoppingly magnificent. I let a grin break across my face. “Looks like the view is DAYUM good,” I told him. “What exactly did you have in mind for me again, Mister?” I mugged, doing my best to sound like a naïve young Marine. “I mean, when you picked me up hitchhiking from the base and asked if I wanted to go to the surfing, I didn’t know you’d, er, I’d have to . . . ”

    Jim cracked a smile. “I’ve seen what you’re packing under there, boy, and I’ll just bet you know how to use it. So get those duds off, Marine, and I’ll show you exactly what I have in mind . . . and maybe even some things you never even dreamt of doing with a man.”

    I mugged a filthy smirk as I pulled off my t-shirt. “Well, mister, you might even learn something from my smokin’ hot dreams,” I continued the banter, but then I had a bit of difficulty getting my board shorts over my raging hardon and got preoccupied with getting the laces undone so I could the Velcro fly ripped open and get the damn things off. When I was facing my husband, similar stance to his, my own horsecock waving, moving my hips just enough to make my own bigger, heavier nuts swing right back at him. I watched his tongue dart from between his lips.

    Emboldened again with the success of my disrobing and the abject hunger in my husband’s eyes, I resumed. “I’ll show you some major fun, mister. You have NO idea what we young, horny marines get up to in the barracks. But I guarantee you’re going to want more of it.”

    Jim took a loud breath. “God, Billy, if I’d known you when we were young . . . “

    “I’m glad we met each other at this point in our lives,” I told him gravely, starting with small, slow steps to advance on him, careful to make my big cock and low hangers swing energetically as I did.

    My husband gulped, making his gorgeous Adam’s apple bob in his corded neck and also his hairy, slab pecs bounce just a little. “Going to tell me why?”

    My nuts sent a sharp reminder to my head – actually to both heads – of the objective at hand. “Because,” I took my time responding, advancing until I was cockhead-to-cockhead with him. “Because since the day we met, you knew exactly WHAT and exactly HOW to do everything two men can do to pleasure each other. No training curve just action.” MY voice was low, and as I loosed the last syllable I made sure to swing my cock so that my head brushed his. “Of course, in the spirit of fairness, the life you’ve given me wasn’t something I would have been ready for before,” I added, and my nuts severely reproached me for the drop in intensity of the moment.

    Both of us were breathing heavily again, holding each other’s gaze. His body shuddered visibly when I knocked his cock with mine. My shudder was internal, as my nuts sent screams of desire through every area of me and caused precum to drip from my cock to the plank floor of the suite.

    “Back atcha, babe, but . . . LOVE LATER. SEX NOW!” my oh-so-wise husband growled.

    I reached out slowly and put my right hand on Jim’s left shoulder, applying enough pressure to get an immediate leer to emerge. As he dropped to his knees, he said, more to himself than to me, reverently, “So big,” letting his big hand lightly explore the length of me, making my breathing shallower.

    “Show me what you can do,” I pleaded more than ordered, even though I knew exactly what my sexy beast of a husband can – and does! – do . . . at any opportunity.

    He took my length and girth to my nuts in one gulp – his superpower, or one of them. NOBODY had ever done that for me before him. The only men who could throat me had to struggle to get on me ot to take me in if I forced them, and then they were really no good whatsoever and had to be coaxed to aim shallower, where they could use their mouths and tongues and lips without near-death cock grappling. But not my Jimmy. No, he had the skill and knew how to pace himself . . . and loved bringing me to undone, considered it a privilege. Who was I to argue.

    Those were mostly my last coherent thoughts, as my husband worked my cock and nuts, the latter with a firm grip in his strong hands, rolling, pulling, squeezing, massaging, just like his tongue, mouth and throat was working my cock. “FFFFFFFFFFFFuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkkkkkkk!” I exclaimed, which I knew Jim knew was a compliment.

    Then, as my breathing was taking some concentration to maintain, I shouted, “FUCK, JIM! You need to—“ but it was too late for him to stop and too late for me, because my hands were clamped on his head, I was skull-fucking him like a crazed bull and my nuts were a beat away from explosion.

    Jim, amazingly, stepped up his throatwork on my big head, the sound of his slurps and loud inhalations through his nose in my pubes driving me farther toward and over the edge.”OHFUCK OHFUCK,” I gasped, and just then Jim took my nuts in a vise grip and yanked HARD.

    How I remained standing as my entire body was wracked with spasms of seismic proportion I don’t remember and can’t imagine, remembering the intensity. My eruptions were nuclear, and Jim gulped and coughed and sputtered and choked but wouldn’t let go as I unloaded down his throat. And unloaded. And kept pumping after my nuts were empty and it was just dry spasms, or at least it felt like it after the initial torrent.

    Jim’s GQ-worthy face was beet red and sweaty when he finally withdrew. He was choking and gasping, but his eyes were shining with pride when he rested back on his heels. Looking down at him I noticed also that there were cum splotches on the floor that I knew weren’t mine – he never misses a drop. I turned enough to see the spray of several long shots along the floor behind me from in front of where he’d been kneeling, and I knew he’d cum while he was servicing my cock. HAWT! He’s always hot.

    Seeing me take notice, he stuck his chin up defiantly. “Couldn’t help it,” he said simply. “You do that to me.”

    My husband is living Viagra. His cock was flagging a bit, but mine was still hard as a lightpost, dribbling dregs of my load – or maybe the next load’s precum . . . or both. “Don’t waste that – we need lube! Because I’m going to show you JUST what I can DO to you!”

    Jim’s eyes flashed icy blue, and his face became intense, set. He reached between my legs, swiping my drooling cockhead with his tongue as he did, and he swiped a handful of his own seed from the floor. He stood awkwardly, getting up from on his knees with one palmful of man goo. But once he was standing he turned, planted his big feet wide and bent forward, away from me, and, looking back at me through his legs, lasciviously slimed his fuckhole . . . slowly and thoroughly.

    He took his time. He had three fingers almost fully inside himself before I smacked his ass HARD. “Get your ass on the bed – NOW!” I ordered over his yelp.

    As he laughed and trotted off into the bedroom, waiving his ready ass at me and throwing me nasty grins over his shoulder, I realized – again – how lucky we were. Two middle-aged men, crazy-stupid in love and, despite our recent playtime with the college jock pool boy, lusting constantly for each other. “Marine!” he barked when he’d got to the bed, and I was still standing there, salivating for him. “This ass isn’t going to fuck itself!” he declared.

    He was on the big bed, on all fours, his fuckhole wagging at me, still grinning as nasty as I’d ever seen. I was on the bed, crossed the expanse from the other room in about four leaping strides. My cock was raging as if I hadn’t satisfied it for weeks instead of already three times since we got up that morning. I dove on the bed and scrambled to between his feet on all fours behind him and then grabbed his hips and shoved my face into his crack.

    “OH BILLY! Just FUCK me PLEASE FUCK ME! I’m ready, and I WANT IT!” Jim howled. But as my tongue swiped his hairy pucker he yowled a long, “OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH FFFFFFUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!” and ground himself back into my face.

    With a little sweat, my husband’s ass goes from delicious to addictive. With cum, it could challenge the Pope’s celibacy. I inhaled of his cum freshly applied, his clean sweat and a hint of his unique musk, and my balls reminded me that they wouldn’t wait forever.

    I slurped and tongue-fucked his hole and rubbed my face in his crack until he’d created a puddle of his own precum and was shouting his pleas for my cock. I was using his nuts for grip, yanking them HARD to keep his hole exactly where my tongue wanted it, slurping and tongue-fucking him so aggressively, I might have sucked all the cumlube out of him had my nuts once again reminded me that it was THEIR turn . . . again.

    “FUCK YES!” he cried out when I finally got on my knees behind him and pushed my throbbing, flared cockhead against his spit-soaked cuntring. Despite being horse-fucked thousands of times, his cunt is amazingly tight, both the ring and his chute, and it doesn’t yield without pressure. It’s another of his super powers – muscle control I’d never experienced before him. Fortunately Jimmy and I both love it on the rougher side, and SHOVING my cock into him forcefully elicited a mutual “FFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!” from each of us, followed by a, “FUCK ME ALREADY STUD!” from him. He emphasized the demand by pulling himself almost off me and then SLAMMING back into me HARD, showing me what he loved most.

    Despite having been pleasured no more than a few minutes ago, my cock felt like it could go off the moment I was balls-deep in my husband’s white-hot, tight mancunt. No matter what, where, when or how many times, it was always that way. The feeling of driving my fucklog home took my breath away, gave me peace of a profound nature at the core of me, and ignited my need to breed – all at the same time. And when he fucked himself on it that once, it ignited my after burners.

    Before I knew it, I was slam-fucking him hard enough that my balls were smacking painfully against Jim’s, and my groin smacking into his hard-muscled ass was loud enough to compete with our growls, moans, grunts and exclamations that echoed in the huge bedroom of that hotel suite.

    “OH, GOD, Billy – YES! JUST LIKE THAT!” Jimmy cried out when I adjusted my angle enough to nail his p-spot HARD once and then again, getting another loud shout. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” he shouted even louder. And then, without warning, he tipped his head back and howled toward the ceiling, “FAT COCKS ROCCCCCCKKKKKKK!” he yelled.

    He was meeting my thrusts with bone-jarring back-thrusts, and we were rutting like two wild animals, both caught in the moment and the need. But his invocation of our surfer-friend’s bumper sticker caused me to guffaw and nearly lose tempo. Proud of himself for getting a reaction from me, he compensated for my near collapse into laughter and kept us bumping uglies at the frenzied pace.

    I wasn’t the only one almost losing it, though, because Jim choked out a laugh despite his perfect fuckwork. I growled and rammed his p-spot HARDER. “Billy, fucking BREED ME!” my husband pleaded. “FILL ME with you!” Well! I thought I HAD filled him with me – over nine and a half amazingly thick inches of me, to be exact, or that’s the way he characterized my fuckmeat. But a career Marine has sense of duty that’s been ingrained to the point of reflex, so . . .

    My body suddenly seized in place, tense from hairline to toes, planted as deep as I could be inside my husband, and then the convulsive spasms started, as did my blasts of my essence deep inside him. I felt the torrent again, too caught up in the ecstasy to be proud of myself right then. “GOD YES! I FUCKING FEEL YOU PUMPING ME FULL!” he shouted.

    Before I lost my ability to control my body at all, I yanked him up by his short hair so his back was against my chest, and I reached around to get him off with me. I needn’t have bothered, because the moment I had him yanked back against me he started shuddering and crying out and let loose with his own load, spraying a long arc out in front of him, all over the bed, pillows and headboard that any porn star would envy. Easily as much as he’d sprayed the floor with . . . all over again that soon.

    I had one arm over his shoulder, my forearm tight against Jim’s sweaty chest, holding him against me. My other arm wrapped around him and grasped his side, steadying me more than him. We both heaved and panted as we rode the wave and crashed through, pumping out our seed. My nuts were screaming with pleasurable pain from over exertion, but I knew they’d pumped my husband full and done me proud . . . again.

    Jimmy finally reached up and clasped one hand over my forearm across him, and his other over my other hand down by his groin. Our skin was slick with sweat – his back to my furry chest, and his hands and arms where they gripped mine, and my arms and hand where they gripped him nearly sizzled from the heat at the contact points. He nuzzled his head back and got his temple along my cheek and held there. “We’re so fucking lucky, Billy,” he exclaimed reverently.

    In fact, I was the lucky one for him having found me, found me possible and worthy, found the way to make me see that and allow myself to dive into this life with him after decades of self-isolation from anything remotely emotional. As always, to hear him say it – how very lucky WE were and are – melted me and, at the same time, sent a renewed chill of fear through me that he’d wise up and kick me to the curb in favor of someone of his own class and status. “Babe,” he reproached me, feeling exactly what I was thinking, yet another of his super powers. Clutching my arms tighter he rubbed his head against my face again. “This is us – that’s all there is – us. Now and always.”

    I took a deep breath to force myself back to the moment and inhaled the intoxicating stench of mansweat and cum overpowering the air freshener the hotel used to make the room smell like what a tourist would think a hotel room in paradise should smell like. But the very male essence pervading my senses sent signals to my nuts and cock – primal, needy despite satisfaction already to the extent few men ever had. My head spun one way, my loins felt like a flash-fire had engulfed them and my senses were overloaded.

    “EASY, tiger,” my husband cautioned. He felt my cock respond to that primal jolt. “That super studcock of yours might be ready to go again, but you hit my hole pretty hard, and I could use a little time,” he told me apologetically.

    In fact, I probably wasn’t ready to go again, despite the persistent turgid state of my cock and my demanding nuts. Over his grunt of discomfort I began to gently pull free. Then my brain reunited with my nuts, and I told him, “Maybe I should kiss it and make it all better.”

    The final exit got me a sharper whine from him, seguing from the growl, which was his response to my suggestion. I helped him gently to lay back even though I wanted to throw him face down and dive in again. I raised one of his legs and went to lay myself between his legs, near his freshly-fucked cunt, and I looked up at him. His eyes narrowed. I grinned at him and pushed his other leg up and brought my face into range.

    I inhaled and my head spun a little from the heady scent of our mating. His musk was more pronounced, as was his sweat and, of course, our cum. My cum, its own overpowering scent strong, but his gentler-scented cum, residual from his self-lubing and the dregs running out of his fat, flagging cock was the catalyst to my most basic needs. I leaned in farther and swiped my tongue up my husband’s hairy, sweaty, cummy crack, and he moaned long and loud as I did, throwing his head back. Inhaling deeply again, I took another tongue swipe, this time pressing into Jim’s still-open, battered hole. That got me another long, low moan from him.

    I licked, kissed, and basically pigged-out on my own spunk in my husband’s cunt until he was crying out for mercy. When I surfaced he was hard and leaking again, his head thrashing back and forth into the pillows, fists clenched in the bedsheets. I wanted to gobble up his beautiful long cock, but instead I got myself over him and lowered myself, covering his body with mine and pressing my slimy lips over his.

    “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” he moaned, slurping my tongue with his mouth and swirling his tongue in my mouth. “GodDAMN, I taste GOOD!” he exclaimed. “Uh, that’s mostly ME you’re tasting!” I corrected.

    “Oh, yeah, the cum tastes good, too,” he teased me. I smacked his nuts and he jumped and yelped. We both cracked, and I fell sideways onto the bed beside him. He pulled me tight against him. “Billy, I’m wrecked. In the most excellent way possible.”

    “I thought the term was ‘ruined for all others,’” I replied into the sweaty fur of his pec.

    “That too, about four and a half years ago,” he reaffirmed. “What say we make the best of this room?” he suggested.

    “I thought—“

    “I meant room service. Say a good lunch. I’m starving, despite that big load you fed me a while ago. And as well and fully as you ate me out, I suspect you could use some fuel, too. A shower and then lunch while we enjoy the view from up here? Then we can head home.”

    “IF we make it home,” I grinned up at him. “It’s a long way, and we barely made it here from the sufing. Fortunately I know a few spots we can stop on the way down the coast if we can’t make it.”

    Jim’s grin widened. “God I love being married to a resourceful Marine. Now come on and let’s order a ton of food, just in case we need the extra fuel. We can get our skanky asses into the shower while we wait. Gotta keep it clean, Marine!” he joked.

    I kind of liked smelling like we’d just fucked our brains out, but he was right . . . as always. And we only rarely shared a shower without it leading to another nutting. Yes, he was right. Shower time!


    Thanks for reading. Hope you’ve enjoyed. As always, I enjoy your emails and comments, and I appreciate you reading me. Happy new year.


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


  • Troy Tamed

    My feeling of gathering isolation wasn’t helped as we neared the coastline of the small Cape Verde island of Brava that Klaus Gehler said he owned a big slice of and I saw Gehler’s red-tile-roofed native stone villa hovering over the top of a cliff. There seemed to be only a narrow pathway through lush semitropical foliage rising and cutting back here and there from the pier to the top of the cliff. Gehler had told me that he came here whenever he felt the need to be entirely cut off from the world, and the immediate impression I got of the locale supported this completely. There was no other sign of habitation as I scanned the island upon our approach.

    It had taken us three days to sail from Malta to the Cape Verdes. In that time, Estaban hadn’t visited or called for me a single time after that first day of multiple takings while Gehler was on Malta. Neither had Gehler. I was beginning to feel the same way I had with Coach Jacoby when I anticipated him taking me aside and fucking me–and he didn’t. I began to wonder if–and, worse, worry that–I didn’t appeal to either one of them, which I felt was odd even when I realized I felt that way. I should have been happy that they were leaving me alone. I was determined not to give in to this lifestyle that they represented. And, yet, the more they didn’t accost me, the more agitated I got.

    “Leave the luggage, Jack,” Gehler said when the launch had been lashed to the pier and we’d scrambled up on the dock. “Estaban will bring it up.”

    I felt that the vines, large-leafed plants, and trees were grabbing at me as we mounted the pathway, which I found strange, as the Cape Verdes were, I thought, semiarid. I remarked as much to Gehler.

    “Ah, we have Miguel and his now-deceased father to thank for that. Miguel is my gardener. I originally had my retreat in Bermuda until it got entirely too crowded, and when I moved down to here, I brought Miguel and his father with me. They are Portuguese. The gardeners of Bermuda are Portuguese, you know. We also brought the Bermudan techniques for gathering runoff water, and Miguel and his father created this paradise of vegetation similar to what I enjoyed on Bermuda. Don’t you find it intoxicating?”

    I just murmured a response that could be taken either way, because my immediate reaction was that it was stifling and a bit intimidating, but upon further thought, I guessed that intoxicating was just as good a term for it.

    We brushed by Miguel near the first terrace. He was fighting with a stand of bamboo that threatened to obstruct the view of the ocean from that terrace. He was stripped to the waist of quite skimpy shorts. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, which came as a shock to me. To have helped established plantings of this maturity in an unforgiving environment, he must have come here to work when he was a young child. He was dark skinned, although not as dark as Estaban was, probably mostly from the constant exposure to the sun. He was rather small in stature, but heavy with muscle in keeping with the hard work he had to do, which must have redoubled since his father had died. I wondered if he was the only gardener now. The estate obviously was large. Of course the landscaping, apparently on purpose, was wild and unruly on the ocean side of the house. But I could see around the side of the house toward the landward side, where there was a more park-like setting short of what appeared to be high stone walls surrounding the grounds on all sides except for the seaside cliff front. The walls didn’t help me with my closed-in feeling of confinement.

    The villa was in a rectangle, the longer side toward the sea. It was built around an interior courtyard, complete with stone flooring and a pond with a fountain and the ever-present overflow of big-leafed plants and exotic-colored flowers. Hibiscuses, bougainvillea, lipstick plants, hydrangeas, and banana trees predominated. The lounge area took up the ground floor of the side facing the sea, with Gehler’s study and a small office he assigned to me above. The opposite wing, opening out onto the more formal, lawned park area had an open loggia with arched doorways on the ground floor and two bedrooms, each with bath, above. A hallway stretched across this section facing the inner courtyard, and a balcony ran the full length of this wing on both sides. The short wing to the west had a kitchen and storerooms on the ground floor, with a large dining room above with a bank of arched windows cut in the stone walls on each side. At the west corner, where the lounge was located on the seaward wing and the kitchen on the west wing, was located a breakfast room and staircase on the first floor, and a servant’s room on the second. There were staircases and servants rooms in the other three corner sections as well. There were two more bedrooms with connecting bath on the second floor of the east wing. I was not shown what was on the ground floor of that wing. The sturdy wooden door to that was shut tight and had a padlock on it, and all of the windows were heavily shuttered.

    What appeared to be the only house servant, a small, yet nicely formed African with black curly hair and features that showed some mix with European stock, barefoot and wearing only an orange-red sarong skirt tucked at his waist, had met us at one of the French doors from the upper terrace into the lounge and had followed Gehler and me around as Klaus acclimated me to the house. Klaus told me the houseboy’s name was Jolo, and he just lowered his eyes in supplication, without sound, when I was introduced to him. He appeared to be hardly more than a boy, although Klaus told me that he had had him for several years. In the kitchen, we found a hulking German of coarse features and heavy musculature, perhaps in his forties, who Gehler introduced as Gerhardt, the cook and general housekeeper. Gerhardt leered at me in a manner that made me quite uncomfortable, and I was pleased when we moved on, climbing the stairs to the principle bedroom wing facing the landward side park area.

    Gehler said that I would have the second bedroom in this wing, right next to his. Both bedrooms had two pair of double French doors giving access to the common balcony on the landward side of the villa. Gehler told me that it would be wise to leave the French doors open at night to catch whatever breeze could be captured at this time of year. He said the thick stone walls helped keep the villa relatively cool, but that, of course, there was no such thing as central air conditioning on the remote Brava island.

    Remote indeed. I felt the remoteness. And all there was in the way of servants to take care of this estate were the cook, the gardener, and Estaban, as the general handyman when Gehler was in residence. The yacht’s crew tended to remain on the ship unless or until Gehler wanted one of the young sailors to come to the villa for his own use. I was particularly struck that there was no evidence of any women in residence. It struck me then that Gehler’s secretary was male–and even his temporary secretary–me–was a man.

    Gehler left me to think my increasingly disturbing thoughts and to watch Jolo unpack my suitcases and occasionally give me a shy, appraising look. He really was a well-formed young man, although it still was difficult to think of him as a man.

    The first evening went uneventfully. Estaban and Jolo served us in the dining room, with me at one end of a table capable of seating eighteen and Gehler at the other end. Gehler was in good form with his conversation, making every effort to put me at my ease and to give me a brief history of Cape Verde and of this small island of Brava. After dinner, we sat in the lounge and had coffee and cognac, and Gehler puffed on a cigar. Eventually he gave me a couple of hours of dictation of business letters that indicated that his business interest were far, wide, and highly lucrative–and involved some of the major leaders of European countries.

    Then, declaring he was tired from the sea crossing to the Cape Verdes by way of Malta from where we had taken ship, at Nice, Gehler said that he was going to retire for the night. There didn’t seem to be any question that I was retiring too. Gehler had that sort of ingrained power and authority. He spoke and all of those around him served.

    I didn’t resent his presumption, because I was probably more exhausted than he was. He still looked fresh and vigorous. He exuded power and vitality and, I had to admit, a sensuality that I found alluring despite myself. He was an uncommonly handsome man and extraordinarily fine of figure, especially for his stated age.

    I showered, padded out of the bathroom, a towel tucked around my waist, opened the French doors as I was advised to do, and, dropping the towel at the side of the bed, sank onto the silk-sheet covered kingside bed, under mosquito netting, and fell into a deep sleep.

    I don’t know how long I’d been semiconscious and aware of the sounds wafting in through the French doors, but when I was fully conscious, I realized I was listening to the sound of full-throttle sexual taking from somewhere beyond the French doors. My eyes went to the French doors and my attention was arrested by seeing the silhouette of a naked body there. As my eyes adjusted to it, the figure materialized as Estaban. He was watching me. I started going hard in arousal. I wanted him. I had been apprehensive when he asserted he would take me at will, but he hadn’t followed through. And the longer the time spun out that he didn’t come for me, the more prepared I was for him to do so.

    Seeing that I was awake, he turned and disappeared from the window. My legs, of their own volition, moved over the side of the bed and I was standing. I found myself moving toward the French doors, following Estaban. I struggled with myself mentally, telling myself that I didn’t want this. But my body wasn’t listening. My body was in high heat. The sound of fucking from the next bedroom continued, which wasn’t helping to cool my ardor and feeling of sexual need.

    The figure was descending the balcony staircase to the terrace below when I got to the French doors and looked around. I followed. Down the stairs and back across the exterior and around the corner of the house. My eyes were on Estaban’s buttocks, the cheeks undulating as he moved, my mind going back to when I was gripping them, holding them to me as he fucked me deep on my berth in Gehler’s yacht, long after I’d stopped struggling against him and was luxuriating in the fuck. I wanted that. I wanted that again.

    He went into a door back into the house. When I got there, the door was closed–and locked. Almost sobbing, I knocked at the door and scratched at it. Like a cat in heat who couldn’t get at the Tom, I thumped on the door and sank to the stones below and whimpered my need. The door didn’t open to me. Cooling off, I stood and slowly ascended the stairs to the balcony off the bedroom wing. This time as I passed Gehler’s room, I looked into the room through the open French doors. The room was in darkness, but, with the help of the moonlight I could see the small figure of a young man on the bed, on his side, turned away from me, his buttocks at the foot of the bed. Gehler was standing at the foot of the bed, holding the young man’s left leg up his chest, and fucking the young man in long, slow strokes. As if he heard a sound on the balcony, Gehler turned and looked directly at me. After a long moment during which we both stood transfixed, I pulled back in the shadows and slipped into my bedroom.

    I retreated to my own bed, thrashing around as the sounds of sex continued, but finally succumbed to an exhausted sleep. It wasn’t a restful sleep, though. In my dream, the door Estaban had walked through had opened and I found myself in the kitchen. Estaban was there, but so were other men, all naked. Gerhardt and two of the sailors from the yacht and Estaban–and even Coach Jacoby. And they all took me, my back on the heavy oak table in the center of the kitchen and various men holding my legs while, in turn, they took me. I felt nothing, however. I wanted to feel their cocks working inside me, but I felt nothing. They all turned their heads toward the door and I expected to see Klaus Gehler there, preparing to enter the kitchen and to enter me and to make me feel something. But it was Stefan walking toward me and smiling.

    I woke with a start. I was shocked to find that I had my hard cock in my fist and that I had come. I rose quickly, in embarrassment, and closed both of the French doors. I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself off, and then returned and collapsed back in the bed, my sleep for the rest of the night fretful and filled with feelings of concern and guilt. For hours I devised ways of saying that I must leave the island immediately, but dawn arrived with no inkling of how I could politely do that without revealing what I increasingly wanted, despite my attempts at resolve. I couldn’t even physically leave the island without Gehler making it so. I had no idea if he would let me go.

    The next morning Gehler was chipper and moved energetically around his study, dictating to me and being more effusive and jovial than I had seen him in the short time we had traveled together from Vienna to the Cape Verdes. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and I was impressed at how well defined his musculature was and how well he V’d down to a thin waist at his age. Even at leisure, he wore his clothes elegantly, like a model for an expensive men’s store. I had no doubt that his clothes had come from such a store.

    He made no mention of what had happened during the night–and that he had seen me at the French doors into his bedroom.

    The next two days went uneventfully, with him somehow getting me to talk about myself and my hopes and ambitions without him revealing much about himself at all. But he was a brilliant man, well conversant with the politics and economics of the world, obviously earning his position in the world of finance honestly. And all the while there was the sense about him of a commanding general, holding the lives of all of his soldiers in his hands. Certainly that was how the servants responded to him.

    The next incident in what I came to realize was my spiral down into degradation occurred two nights later. I awoke in the night slightly gaseous and knowing that all I needed was a glass of milk, as this was what had always worked before when my stomach was slightly off–the cook was an excellent one, but the Portuguese-based food that was being served was slightly more spicy than I was used to.

    I had already found and drunk the glass of the milk from the refrigerator in the kitchen when I heard the sounds–quite similar to those of the other night. The sounds of sex. I was drawn to the sounds, which seemed to be coming from the lounge just a short distance away in the wing facing the sea.

    They were mere shadows, but it unmistakably was the form of two men, one large and one small, having sex on the carpet in the middle of the lounge floor. The smaller man was on his belly, stretched out on the floor; the large man was crouched over the smaller one, at the level of his pelvis. He was on one knee and the other leg was thrown across the smaller man’s pelvis. One hand of the large man was holding down the thigh of the smaller man and the other hand was palmed between the smaller man’s shoulder blades. The larger man was fucking down between the smaller man’s buttocks at a side angle.

    The sounds I heard were the sounds from the smaller man of his taking. They were sounds of acceptance and enjoyment. I couldn’t readily identify who was there–and I didn’t want to suppose. I didn’t want to know. Still, I felt the shock of discovery–of being an unwilling voyeur; of hearing and seeing what wasn’t meant for me–and then the greater shock of realizing that I was finding this arousing sank in. I was fisting my cock, which was engorging, and I suddenly was aware that I was naked. I turned to leave, only to find that the cook, his stare a leer of lust and interest, was hunched in the shadows, at the door that must lead from his quarters into the kitchen, his eyes glued to me. I blushed in embarrassment, his presence galvanizing me, and I slipped out of a doorway into the center court and ran for the stairs in the far corner of the villa and then to my room. I closed the door firmly behind me and buried myself in the soft bedding. And, once again, I got very little sleep that night.

    I wasn’t so much disturbed by what was going on in the house–my mind had worked that out early on, especially when no women surfaced in attendance. But I was partly disturbed that I was exposed to it and that I felt so isolated and unable to leave the situation. And I was mostly disturbed because of its effect on me. It was arousing. I had worked so hard to sublimate all of my inclinations in that direction. And here my body was fighting with me for control, wanting to succumb to the temptations. The only saving grace was that I didn’t seem to be a focal point of anyone’s advances. Increasingly, though, I realized that I didn’t want to be saved.

    I sat up in the bed, adrenaline rushing from having admitted it. I knew that Klaus Gehler was the center of this taking. I admitted for the first time that he was somehow manipulating me, preparing me for something. For what, I didn’t know. But I knew it was Gehler who was teasing and taunting me, making me want something I had been determined not to want. And somehow I knew it was him who had been fucking the smaller man in the lounge tonight. Despite the shadows, I knew that the man in control of the sexual encounter tonight was Klaus Gehler. I just didn’t want to think of him that way–as a sexual predator. But, no, I had to admit that wasn’t quite right either. I increasingly was thinking of him in sexual terms. And as being desirable.

    I buried my head under the pillows and tried to steady my breath. I very definitely was deeper into a situation that I found disturbing and threatening than I wanted to be. I told myself I must fight it hard.

    The next afternoon, Gehler told me that we would take a couple of hours respite from the dictation–that he planned to take a nap and perhaps, after a lunch in the breakfast room, alone because he was more sleepy than hungry, I might like to explore the park on the landward side of the villa. He said he thought I had not had time to walk those gardens yet, and he was correct in this assumption.

    The park was more intricately landscaped than I had assumed at first. There were several hidden gardens, set off by dense foliage along the sides and at the corners, just inside the outer walls.

    Once again I heard them before I saw them, and I should have just turned and gone back into the villa. But I didn’t. I was compelled to follow the sound. Gehler was sitting, naked, on a stone garden bench. Facing him, also naked, and suspended over his lap, was Miguel, the small, young Portuguese gardener. Gehler was holding Miguel’s left leg up high under his armpit, giving me a clear view of his cock pumping up into the young man’s ass. Miguel was transfixed. His eyes were closed, and he was fairly purring and moaning in pleasure as he moved his hips in rotation, providing much of the motion that moved Gehler’s thick cock up and down and from side to side inside his ass. Gehler’s body was magnificent. Powerful and well-muscled, his belly flat, barrel chested, with hard biceps and thighs.

    The two were kissing deeply when I first caught sight of them, and then Miguel took his lips from Gehler’s and moved them down to Gehler’s left nipple. I gasped at first seeing that Gehler had a silver nipple ring in his right nipple. This was so incongruous with his elegant, distinguished persona that this, more than the sexual act they were performing, aroused me.

    As I watched, Estaban came into view from the foliage surrounding the bench. He too was naked. I watched Gehler lift Miguel off his cock and hand him up to Estaban. Miguel hooked his knees on Estaban’s hips, Estaban gripped his buttocks and penetrated Miguel with his cock, as Miguel arched his torso back to where his head was resting on Gehler’s shoulder. One of Gehler’s hand supported Miguel’s back in the center of his shoulder blades and the other one went down to cover the root of Estaban’s pumping cock inside Miguel, with Gehler’s fingers going to squeezing and manipulating Estaban’s balls. Miguel turned his face toward Gehler’s and they entered into a deep kiss.

    I gave a little cry, having no idea if they heard me–and if they did, it didn’t interrupt the rhythm of the fuck one iota, and fled back to my room. And, I’m ashamed to say, I lay, writhing on my bed, masturbating myself to climax, thinking of that nipple ring.

    If the men tried anything like that with me, I would leave immediately, I told myself. I would swim away from the island if I could find no gate in the stone wall on the land side. I would not be used the way that Gehler had used both Miguel and Jolo. Yes, I admitted to myself. I knew in my mind that the small figure Klaus had fucked in the lounge on the previous night had been the houseboy, Jolo.

    I couldn’t get the vision of both Gehler and Estaban working Miguel that way out of my mind, and, increasingly, I had to admit that I wouldn’t swim away from that if they did the same with me. I would welcome it.

    Another week passed by, and, although I heard Jolo being taken in Gehler’s room on occasion at night, Gehler had made no move to take me. As the week wore on, I became obsessed with why that was. I was better looking, better formed than either Jolo or Miguel. I wondered why Gehler had made no move on me. What was wrong with me? It all seemed so peculiar, especially since, after working the incident in the garden over and over in my mind, I had come to the conclusion that Gehler had wanted me to see what I saw. He had suggested I take that stroll in the park; he had said he would be napping, which he obviously wasn’t doing.

    And in the nights, especially on those nights I could clearly hear Gehler having his way with Jolo–or maybe Miguel–in the room adjacent, I found I couldn’t sleep–that I couldn’t calm down enough to sleep until I had exhausted my mind and my body. I took to masturbating to the sounds of the sex in the adjacent room. I had always masturbated to release sexual tension, of course. I just had not experienced sexual tension every night before now. And when my mind was drifting off–and even in my sleep–I conjured up the spectacle of Gehler and Estaban fucking Miguel in the garden. And, oddly, I focused on that silver nipple ring, suggesting deeper, darker aspects to Gehler. Thoughts in this direction were disturbing. But increasingly they were arousing and compelling as well.

    I found that during the day, as I was taking dictation from Gehler, I would look up at him. And I would see him undressed, fucking Miguel in the garden or Jolo in his bed or on the floor right where I was sitting. And I would go hard. Toward the end of the week, I was thinking of Gehler fucking me in the place of Miguel or Jolo. I resisted the image as long as I could, but slowly and surely I gave in to my arousal. And all of this paralleled the transition from fear that Gehler would make a move on me to questioning why and experiencing rising confusion and ire that he had not.

    I was thus in a state of high anxiety and arousal on the night that I found Gehler taking one of the Spanish seamen from his yacht.

    Once again it was something that awakened me in the middle of the night. The cries were loud and they signaled pain–but they also were steeped in passion. And I knew enough Spanish to know that whoever was screaming out was begging for more.

    The sounds were coming from the center courtyard side of the bedroom wing this time. I took up my shorts and pulled them up my legs and over my hips and padded out on bare feet, to the balcony across the hall above the courtyard. Light was streaming into the courtyard, and I was surprised to see that it was coming from the now-unshuttered windows into the courtyard from what had been the closed room on the ground floor of the east wing.

    I moved silently down the stairs in a corner opposite to this room and then glided stealthily through the heavy foliage in the courtyard until I was positioned where I could look into the forbidden room. I nearly fainted at would I saw.

    The room was a veritable SM chamber of sex, outfitted with more sexual bondage and torture equipment than I ever knew existed.

    The Spaniard was suspended from a beam in the ceiling by restraints that stretched him out and barely enabled him to touch the floor on the balls of his feet. He was naked, glistening with sweat, his cock hard and bent up from his body in an arc. He was swaying and writhing under the hard, but not too hard, lashing a naked Klaus Gehler was giving him on his legs and torso and buttocks with a multithonged leather whip.

    Estaban, in leather harness, but otherwise naked, was standing off to the side, watching. He too had a leather scourge in his hand.

    Gehler’s cock was hard as a rock too and was one of the longest and thickest ones I’d ever seen. And I felt my cock go immediately hard too at seeing that he had a thick Prince Albert ring pierced through the glans of his cock. I hadn’t seen that before. It made me shiver.

    The Spaniard’s chest and arms and thighs and butt cheeks were covered with thin, red welts. And he was crying out for Gehler to fuck him, in mixed Spanish, German, and English, trying to make a connection with the Austrian in some language. And I hadn’t been standing there in the shadows for long, trying not to let my shorts fall and stroke my cock, but not succeeding in the effort, when all of my defenses melted away. I shocked myself. I was totally confused and ashamed of myself when Gehler moved to behind the young sailor and thrust his cock up inside his ass, lifting the Spaniard’s thighs with his strong hands to give him deeper purchase and started pumping him hard. And I was confused and ashamed because I was wishing that it was me rather than the Spaniard who was being fucked by Gehler.

    As I watched, Estaban came around to the front of the young sailor and lifted his thighs, hooked them on his hips, and started working his cock inside the Spaniard below Gehler’s already-buried staff.

    I turned eventually and fled back to the safety of my room again. And again, as I got to the corner staircase, I saw the bulky German cook, Gerhardt, standing in the shadow of the kitchen door and watching me. And he had a stubby but extraordinarily thick cock pulled out of his pajama bottoms and was stroking it.

    Gehler carried on his by-day pretence for three more agonizing days. Letting me smolder in the imagining of him–and maybe Estaban as well–taking me as they’d taken the young sailor, letting all of my defenses melt away into the desire to be writhing under Gehler or between him and Estaban. In the daylight, Gehler continued to be the distinguished, elegant, no-nonsense international financier of late middle age, seemingly focused on his business needs, me just any scribe, not better than any other. Only there to take his dictation and key his correspondence into the computer, print it up, and prepare it for dispatch the next time Estaban took the launch out.

    I still felt trapped on the estate, and on the small island, accessible only by a motor launch controlled by Estaban, who was controlled by Klaus Gehler. But it wasn’t the physical entrapment that was tearing me apart. It was the sexual need that Gehler and Estaban had aroused in me. Something that went far beyond Stefan’s attempts to break down my defenses. My defenses were long gone now. I ached for Gehler or for Estaban–or for both. I fantasized my taking by the two of them, and this fantasizing increased by day until it was all consuming.

    Thus, I had no defense, no hesitation, no internal struggle on the night that I heard Gehler softly call my name from beyond the French doors of my room. I rose from the bed, naked, and went to the French doors. He was leaning back on the balcony rail, also naked, hard, magnificently ready for me. He extended his arm toward the open doors into his room, and I slowly padded through the door and over to his massive bed and, trembling almost uncontrollably, lay down on the bed, stretched out, my back to the French doors.

    I felt him come down on the bed behind me, stretched full length behind me, close. I could feel his throbbing cock pressing at my back. I felt the coolness of the lubricant and jerked and let out a little cry of pain and surprise as he worked that inside my channel with thick fingers. He was kissing me in the hollow of my neck, and the fingers of his other hand were running through the hair on my head. He palmed my head and turned it to his face and opened my lips with his.

    His tongue became more insistent, more possessive, searching deeper in my mouth. I wanted to escape him, but he held me fast. And then I felt his bulb at my entrance and he was pushing in. I instinctively wanted to scream in pain and invasion, and I began to struggle against him, but he was too strong for me. He wouldn’t give up possession of my mouth, and I was having trouble breathing. I writhed against him, arching my back. But he had one hand under my chin, pulling my head back toward him, holding me in a locked embrace. His other hand was palming my belly, pulling my channel onto his cock.

    The pain was intense, but so was the wanting and the pleasure and relief that it finally was happening. I could distinctly feel the silver cock ring rub against my channel walls as it dug inside me, and I was panting hard, even though he still had possession of my mouth and was making it difficult for me to breathe. I never could imagine that a tongue could get that far into my mouth. Realizing that my writhing wasn’t helping, I widened my stance as much as possible, willing my channel to open to him. He was going to plow me regardless now. His long, thick cock continued to invade, to stretch me and move to new depths. Relentlessly.

    I knew he was taking his time, waiting for me to adjust. Being as gentle as he could be. I’m sure he knew that I had little experience, that Stefan told him about Coach Jacoby and that he already knew about my one encounter with Estaban. I was so sure he would be sensitive to my needs.

    But then his own lust and desire took over. He pulled his tongue out of my mouth, and turned me on my belly, without losing the several inches of purchase he’d gotten inside my canal. He pulled me up on my knees on the bed with that palm on my belly, crouched over my hips, and thrust hard inside me. I yowled and widened my thighs. He then fisted my hair and bowed my shoulders back toward his chest, and went into long, deep stroking into me, continuing doing so long after he had bottomed inside me, and long after my knees had gone out from under me and I had collapsed onto my belly. He was riding my hips hard and relentlessly. And I was making all of the sounds of full-throttled taking that I had heard coming from this room on my first night on the island.

    I was whimpering and sobbing when he was done, and he just lifted me up and slung me over his shoulder and returned me to my bed to suffer throughout the rest of the night–and, incongruously, too long for his cock to be buried inside me again.

    For three days and night, we maintained the pretense. During the day he was all business, but business with a friendly, fatherly smile. And he was attentive to my every need and solicitous of my opinions. He said nothing about the nights during the day, and neither did I. I said nothing because I was afraid he wouldn’t be there inside me in the night if I spoke of it in the day. And each night he visited my bedroom and fucked me, in a different position, but always with an intensity that took my breath away and left me begging for more.

    On the fourth night, he lashed my wrists to rings in the headboard of my bed. And when he was finished with me, I was visited, first by Estaban, who fucked me hard, and then by the cook, Gerhardt, who fucked me even harder–no one coming to my aid at my howls of being taken like this.

    The next afternoon, Gerhardt bent me over the kitchen table and fucked me again. And in the twilight, Estaban chased me down the pathway, reaching the launch as I did, and pushed me down on my back at the bottom of the boat, roughly forced my thighs apart and sank his knees and his cock between them. By now I didn’t care. I was wanton. I wanted the fuck, whether from Klaus or Gerhardt or Estaban, it didn’t matter. I wanted a strong dick moving inside me for as long as possible. I had shed the days when I had to pretend not to care, not to want to be fucking with a stud of a man. I wrapped my hand around Estaban’s cock, trembling at the feel of the veins popping out on it and helped guide it inside. And I purred and ran my hands along the new welts on his sinewy arms and into the curls of his chest hair while he kissed the insides of my channel with those ropy veins of his cock.

    * * * *

    Heretofore, it had been the men who had come to me and forced me. I still had that last shred of dignity left–that it was something done to me, not something I sought. Estaban took that last shred of pride and self-denial from me. Once more he appeared, naked, at my open door to the balcony in the middle of the night. I watched his silhouette against the moonlight for some minutes as he leaned against the frame of the door and stroked his cock. I’m sure he could tell from my heavy breathing and slight moaning that I was awake. When he slid from view, I rose from the bed and followed him–just as I had done that night weeks before when Gehler and he had started to work away my defenses. I was convinced that that was what they had been doing. Preparing me. Preparing me for themselves or something else, I didn’t know. I just knew that they had been working at my defenses.

    I followed the shadowy figure down the stairs from the balcony. He didn’t move toward the door into the kitchen, though, as he had done before. He moved into the heavy foliage near the top of the cliff overlooking the slip where the launch was kept. When I reached him, he was on his back in a bed of ferns, holding his erection up from his body.

    Neither of us said anything. He looked at me expectantly. I hesitated, knowing somehow that this was the dangerous edge of something. Until now, being fucked had not been my decision or under my control really, even though, increasingly, I had acquiesced in it. I waited for him to rise and grab me, throw me to the ground, and thrust inside me. It’s what I wanted, what I ached for. But Estaban wasn’t going to do that. He was going to strip the last shred of dignity and claim of self-restraint from me.

    “If you want it, you will have to fuck yourself on it,” I heard him whispered.

    With a whimper, I straddled his body and brought my knees down on either side of his chest. The heels of my hands dug into the loamy soil on either side of his head and we were staring intensely in each other’s eyes. My hole hovered over his cock, being held erect and steady in his hand. I waited for him to enter me, but holding his cock erect was all he was going to give me. Slowing I descended my channel on the staff until he was deep inside me.

    Again I waited, waited for him to start to stroke me.

    “Fuck yourself on it,” he growled.

    I fucked myself, raising and lowering myself on the cock, as Estaban lay back and held my eyes with his. When it was clear that I was willing to do all of the work, Klaus Gehler, also naked, appeared in front of me, holding his cock out. I took it in my mouth and gave him head, the metal of his Price Albert clicking against my teeth.

    After I brought Estaban to an ejaculation, he pushed me unceremoniously off his body and crouched to the side as Gehler lay down on his back in the ferns. I didn’t need to be told what I was to do. I rode Gehler’s cock in the reverse, my head pointed at his toes.

    Estaban had absented himself, as far as I could see, but he appeared again as I was bring Gehler to his ejaculation. He had a naked Jolo in tow.

    “You must do it all, go all the way,” Gehler said in a low voice. “You will not be totally released until you know how it is to take a man as well as being taken.”

    I thought of it as a total debauching more than total release, but my defenses were completely gone now. I had no excuses, nor resistance left. Estaban and Gehler held Jolo’s legs open while I fucked him. He looked at me with eyes of awe and pleasure in such a way that, by the time I ejaculated, I was well into the fuck. It wasn’t as arousing for me as being fucked, but I couldn’t deny that when I was finished, I felt total release from any inhibitions I ever had had.

    “Gerhardt is waiting for you in the kitchen,” Gehler whispered in my ear as he and the other two were preparing to leave me in the fern bed. “You will not be content until you have gone for him as well, rather than him for you.”

    The big German was in the kitchen just as Gehler had told me. And he obviously knew that this was a conditioning session–a preparation for something–for me. He too made me fuck myself on his cock. He stood with his back to a wall and held me to him with strong hands on my waist, as, with my hands locked behind his neck and my feet planted on the wall beside his waist, I fucked myself on his cock, leveraging off the wall with my feet.

    After we were finished–me being completely worn down to the level of being an acknowledged wanton for the cock–Gerhardt delivered me to Gehler’s bedroom and laid me down flat on my back beside Gehler on the bed. Gehler turned toward me and rubbed the Prince Albert against my thigh.

    “You will be sleeping in my bed tonight,” he whispered. “And you will start out in my bed every night. You had best work in long naps during the days, as you will not be getting much sleep at night.”

    I moaned. “Oh god, the feel of that PA on my skin,” I whimpered. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

    And then, raising my leg with one hand and snaking the other arm under my waist and pulling my buttocks up into his lap, he entered me and started to stroke. “Push back on it. Fuck yourself too,” he commanded.

    With a groan of resignation, I complied.

    * * * *

    In the following days, I sought out first Jolo, in the laundry room, and then Miguel, in a flower bed, and I showed that I could fuck cries of passion out of a man too. Now, when Estaban or Gerhardt left my bed at night after I had returned there from Klaus, Jolo would creep into it and receive what I had so recently been given.

    On the eighth night, Klaus and Estaban introduced me to the room of toys on the ground floor of the east wing–and to shared attention.

    After Gehler returned me to my bed, he came down behind me, entered me in a side split, kissed and tongued the thin, red welts on my shoulders, and gently stroked deep inside me. He put his lips close to my ear and said, “Stefan arrives tomorrow. He wants to know if you will let him fuck you now.”

    I murmured a “Yes, of course,” and moaned at the feel of the silver cock ring rubbing against my channel walls deep inside me, never wanting it to leave me.

    “Good,” he murmured. “All of this preparation has been for him. He wants you to beg him for it.”

    I moaned at the thought–but I knew now that I would do that, that I would beg Stefan for it.

    -FINI-


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  • Sam’s Story

    Jacob’s P.O.V.

        The elevator doors open and I rush out taking a quick turn to the left and run up the stairs the cold wind whips my face as I get to the top or the stairs, looking around my eyes catch two figures standing at one side of the building, my eyes instantly focus on the figure that is perched against the edge of the roof i knew it was Sam right away I knew that head of hair anywhere.

    Walking fast taking long strides my his face came more into focus as I got closer and with each step I could see the fear that is registered on his face. He is scared. The instinct to protect him took over as my strides turned into a jog my gazing focusing on the figure that was making my Sam scared. 

    “Jacob” He shouts but I ignore. The figure quickly turns on his heels raising a gun straight at me I stop dead in my tracks almost falling to the ground from the momentum, my eyes adjust to the dark face of the man who held the gun and my eyes widen. It was Joel.

    Dark circles were under his eyes as if he barely slept in days his hair in knots and wild from what can be seen in his black hoodie. A bone chilling smile slowly crept across his face and the chill wasn’t from the cold either, his head cocked to the side a bit his glare was so focused. 

    “It’s good enough of you to join us Jacob” He says gently. 

    Taking in the situation Carefully I spoke. “Joel, what is going on? Why are you doing this?” I asked. My eyes darting back and forth between Joel and him. In my head I began to calculate the time it take me to cross the distance that was still between us and try to disarm him or hold him down long enough for Sam to escape but a good ten feet where between us even if he was distracted in anyway he would still have more then enough time to react and shoot. There was something off about him which made him more dangerous then he already is. 

    “What’s going? Oh what’s going on” He says the second time in a sadden voice. 

    “Well! Jacob! What is going on here is to deal punishment to who you have hurt me terribly! You know for days I was thinking how you could hurt me and this slut!” He says pointing at Sam. “Could hurt me so deeply so I was thinking that maybe if I took him away from you, you would know what I have felt. I knew you would come running and follow Sam when you knew what was up. Technology such a easy way to lure people” He grins darkly. 

    “Shut your fucking mouth don’t talk to him like…” He cuts me off. 

    “Shut the fuck up! I am holding all the cards right now Jacob all the cards!” He says rushing forward pressing the barrel of the gun to my head.

    “Jake…”Sam whimpers. 

    “It’s okay Sam just stay calm” I say my eyes not leaving Joel’s. 

    “Yeah Sam stay calm” Joel mocks him. “So shut the fuck you bitch!” He yells.

    “Joel please listen to me! Don’t harm Jacob please it is all my fault that I have came between you both it’s my fault so please shoot me. Please I deserve it!” 

    What are you doing Sam? I think to myself. fuck he is trying to put it all on himself to spare me.

    Joel thinking it over for a second and then nods his head backing up slowly but keeping the gun trained on me. “You are right Sam, you both will be sorry” 

    Moving so fast my mind is barely to register Joel swinging his arm fast around the butt of the gun slamming into the side of Sam’s temple. He fell to the ground with a sickening thud. 

    “SAM!” I yell. I don’t think. I don’t plan. I Just charge forward with all the might I can muster charging like a bull Joel’s eyes just barely have time to see what’s coming, his arm is raised up and a shot goes off but I manage to dodge under his arm to avoid the bullet swinging my right fist up hitting him square in the jaw the force is enough to send him to the ground and the gun skidding away but he easily uses the momentum to roll himself all the way around onto his feet, I don’t stop there I continue to charge he throws a quick right hook but I raise my arm blocking his swing and throw a quick punch with my right fist hitting his nose. I hit him hard enough where I can feel the bones crack blood coming form his nose.

    I take the moment of his distraction to tackle him to the ground and start hitting him, his arm goes outstretched and I feel a sharp pain his my head. I howl in pain rolling off to the side, I catch a glance at a small piece of CV pipe in his hand coming down at my head. I manage to move out of the way hearing the sound of metal hitting the very spot my head was. I roll onto my feet standing up dodging and ducking every single swing he makes at me waiting for an opening. When I do I go in catching his right forearm in my hand halting his attack and land a right hook on his jaw. We both go at it vying for the upper hand. I know he is trying to get to the gun but I have to keep him away for Sam and I Sake…

    ……..

    Sam’s P.O.V.

       Pain…pain is the only thing coming to my mind, I can feel the hot liquid dripping down the side of my skull, smelling the faint smell of blood that is steaming from the cold air that it is exposed too. I didn’t even feel Joel hit me everything just went black, I struggle to lift my body off the ground but I can’t seem to muster the strength to get up. 

    I slowly open my eyes my right is instantly blinded as the blood washes over it. I groan in pain as I slowly get up to my knees. Covering my wound with my palm I turn my head to noise of skin slapping against skin with grunts and short yell are being shouted. With my one good eye it opens wide with horror both Joel and Jacob are going at it swinging there fists hitting each other with such and power each of them both trying to get to the gun that is only a few feet from them each trying to keep the other back but they are for now on equal ground on strength. This was insane.

    My legs shaky underneath me I manage to get onto my feet holding the ledge with my free arm, this is my chance to get the gun while Joel is distracted. My head spinning around I am barely able to stay on my feet as I walk step by step to the gun. Almost there I think to myself. I take step after step but with each step I pay the price of getting more dizzy as my vision in my one good begins to blur. 

    Everything fails and I fall to knees unable to walk. When I look up everything happens so fast. Jacob is standing there holding the gun pointing it towards Joel I tunnel my head in his direction he is frustrated his eyes wilder then ever he reaches down pulling out a long knife from his boot. God no…he can’t win Joel please stay down. I beg in my mind. 

    “No! Joel! Don’t!” Jacob yells. Joel ignores him and charges at him. Jacob pleads then roaring in anger letting off two rounds both hitting Joel in the chest he falls to the ground not moving. Jacob let’s out a anguish sound. 

    Tears pooling in my eyes.

    He looks over at me dropping the gun. “Sam” He walks over scooping me up in his arms pulling my to his warm chest. “I got you Sam…it’s over” He says softly. His voice creaking. 

    We stay like that for a moment. “You are right it is over.” A voice echos. Jacob quickly lets me go turning around. Joel is still alive, holding the gun aiming at Jacob. Joel pulls the trigger twice both bullets hit Jacob in the chest as he falls back. “NO!”  I scream. Joel smiles before falling to the ground again. I rush over to Jacob pressing the wounds that are bleeding. 

    “Sam…Sam look at me…” With tears still in my eyes I look at Jacob, a small smile is on his face. 

    “I love you Sam…I…” He coughs a line of blood trails down from his mouth down his cheek. “I wanted to tell you when the ball dropped tonight…I love you Sam you made my life amazing and made me do things I never thought I would feel this way about someone then i have felt about. I felt like I was in a prison but you helped me be free Sam…shhh Sam don’t my blue eyed angel.” His cold hand brushes the tear from my cheek. His face features have softened no longer tense with anger or worry but more like he did when we was a kid as he smiled little dimples were at both sides of his smile. His breath ragged that came from his lungs, holding his hand to me my eyes never left his. 

    “I love you took Jacob.” I say to him smiling.  His smiles widens. “Who couldn’t love this sexy jock” He says jokingly. I laugh feeling fresh tears rolling down my face. I nod. “Right, who couldn’t love this hunk here? I certainly do.” I say running my hand over his face gently. running my fingers through his hair.

    “I couldn’t ask for a better lover Sam…you were the light held onto when I was mess when I came out. You my anchor. I hoped to maybe have graduate and be with you in the end to live happy maybe even have a family together you would look so cute…”He coughs. “If you had a little belly with our child” His eyes lighting up at the idea. 

    “And ruin my body? Hell no” I chuckle. 

    His smile fades as his cough gets more rough more coming out. “I…I love you Sam, I will always be with you my love…my Sam…my Sam…” His voice trails off his eyes shuttering close and his head turns to the left. 

    “No…no!” I shake his body. “Jake! Please! Don’t leave me please Jacob I love you please! No..no..no..no…please my Jake…no…don’t leave my Jacob…”

    To be continued…..

    ………..

    Sorry I had to edit. There was parts missing hope you enjoy


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  • Black Ass Friends

    Hi! My name’s Kory and I’m 19 years old. I graduated school last year and I’m currently living in an apartment by myself. I have short black hair, a bit chubby/muscular too. 

    But the “biggest” thing about me was my big black ass. My ass was huge. Eerything I wore, my big ass would always be visible. My ass is bigger than any girls ass I ever seen. Mine was big, round, and very wobbly. When where anytime of clothing, my fat ass wobbles NONSTOP.

    I didn’t even play sports, I was just naturally born with my big ass. And I enjoyed having my big ass, It gave me a lot if attention. Oh! And my friend too. My friends name is Trey and he had the same big, bubbly, round, jiggly, black ass as I did. We both had the biggest asses we could ever dream for. 

    So one day me and Trey were both at my crib chilling. We were eating food, drinking, smoking, you know, just chilling. Until Trey and I went to sleep. Trey wanted to sleep over since it was too late for him to go home, so I let him stay.

    He wanted to sleep in my bed and without even thinking I let him. We slept in the same bed that night, but I couldnt help myself. Trey slept with his boxers on and I could see his big ass eat up those boxers. I could see the line for his ass crack which made me horny a bit.

    I couldnt sleep, since his big ass hyptonised me. I slowly got closer to him as I felt his ass near my hand. I then turned to face him and slowly placed my hand on his bubbly black ass cheek. I slowly stroked it, trying not to wake him up. Without making noice, I slowly lowered his boxers, seeing one of his big ass cheeks bare. I got a slight erection.

    Just then, Trey woke up and pulled his boxers back up before going back to sleep. “Trey” I whispered softly. Trey groaned and woke up. “What?” He said in a tired and grumpy voice. I slapped Trey’s ass to give him a hint, but he just laughed and rolled his eyes. Then, Trey took off his boxers and looked at me. “Go on, have fun” Trey said softly, with a slight smirk. 

    I smirked back and grabbes both of his black juicy cheeks in my hands. Trey moaned which made me hard. I slapped his cheeks, watching them jiggle. I slowly lowered my boxers and pulled out my erected penis. I put two fingers in my mouth and slowly fingered Trey. Trey moaned in delight “Fuck me” He said, eager for my cock up his big black ass. 

    With that said, I inserted my cock deep inside his big ass. My cock dissapearing in his big ass. I slowly kept thrusting, hearing his soft moans. Fuck he felt good I thought to myself as I fucked his big ass. As I fucked him, I couldnt help but slap his big ass cheeks. His big ass was jiggling everytime I thrusted my cock inside me.

    “FUCK!” Trey and J moaned loudly as I blew a huge load deep inside Trey’s ass. “Alright,  that’s it” Trey said as I finished blowing my huge load deep in his black ass. I pulled my cock out and sighed in relief after that amazing fucking. And without realizing, Trey had went right back to sleep with cum dripping from his ass. I slapped his big ass one more time, before going back to sleep


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  • A Dark parking lot

    I connected with a guy named Trevor on craigslist and we met one evening at a nearby parking lot at a nearby strip mall. I got there first and park in a dark area away from the stores. When Trevor pulled up beside me, I got out and joined him and settled into the passenger’s seat of his car. 

    There was enough moonlight that I could see that he was middle aged, in shape and handsome. Trevor was probably around five foot ten, with salt and pepper hair and he was nicely dressed. We started chitchatting and I learned that he was married and wanting to explore his bisexual tendencies in an uncomplicated way. 

    While we talked, I started rubbing his upper thigh to gauge his reaction. When I didn’t get an adverse response to my hand on his thigh, I moved it up a little to see if he was hard yet.  He wasn’t. He seemed apprehensive, but who wouldn’t in his position. When I let my hand rest on his crotch, Trevor confessed to me that, “I’m not that big down there.”

    “It’s not important. It really doesn’t matter to me,” I told him. “So relax. Let’s just have fun,” I said as I continued rubbing his thigh.  

    Then I let him pull up my t-shirt and rub my chest and squeeze my nipples. As he continued to caress my chest, Trevor managed to remove my t-shirt and open my fly. 

    Excited, I started to frantically pull at his belt, snap and zipper, anything that was keeping my hands from getting inside his pants. 

    He leaned forward and started to gently flick his tongue across my nipples as his fingers pinched them to rock hard excitement. 

    When his pants were finally undone and his fly opened, Trevor opened his legs, giving me the permission that I wanted and the space I needed to reach inside his pants and feel him up. 

    My hand dove under the waistband of his black Jockey briefs and stopped at his thick patch of soft curls. Trevor had a big mound of curly pubic hair that framed his semi-hard cock. 

    As I felt for his growing hardness, Trevor apologized for not being hard yet. He said, “I’m nervous so it’ll take me a little longer to get ready.” 

    “That’s fine,” I reassured him as I squeezed its length. It felt like he was average size, maybe five inches. I could wait for his full hardness because what I really wanted right then was just below and nestled between his open thighs. 

    I reached deeper into Trevor’s jockeys and gently grabbed a handful of his warm, hairy ball sack. They had a velvety softness that I can’t rightly describe. But the sensation combined with our mutual teasing was enough for me to nearly lose control. 

    I told him, “Lower the back of your seat all the way down.”  

    Once he’d done it Trevor sat up, removed his shirt and then lay back down. 

    He was nearly naked and now sporting a full erection underneath his tented briefs. I tore at his belt and the zipper of his slacks and pulling them down to the floor. 

    We both knew what was coming next. 

    Trevor lifted his hips up off the car seat as I grabbed his waistband of his jockeys with both hands and tugged them down past his hips, stopping midway down his open thighs. 

    The loud slap of his erect cock against his belly when I removed his underwear told me that his nervousness has subsided and that Trevor was completely ready to have another guy bring him to orgasm, a stranger no less.

    The head of his cock just barely extended past the dark black thatch of pubic hair that formed a perfect triangle at the base of his abdomen. Trevor wasn’t big, but his uncircumcised cock was almost as straight as an arrow with the tinniest bit of upward curve.   

    I ran my fingers through his thick bush with one hand and cupped Trevor’s dangling balls with the other. The head around his pee-hole was slightly damp from his pre-cum. He was completely untrimmed, which I liked. It made me feel like I was with a real man, not an effeminate twink. The base of his cock had hair wrapped around the lower part of his shaft and his nut sack was covered in soft fur. 

    The only discovery that remained was the touch, taste and the sensation of Trevor’s drooling cock in my mouth. 

    As I lowered my face down to Trevor’s lap, out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman parking her car about fifty feet away. When she opened her car door and stood up, she was looking right at me. Did she know what I was doing, I wondered. 

    Even standing she couldn’t see anyone else in the car because Trevor was on his back, well out of her line of sight. But who would lower his head to the exact location of the driver’s crotch if he weren’t about to use his mouth for sex? 

    Glancing back over her shoulder, she hurried into the nearest store. Is he sucking a guy’s cock or licking a woman’s pussy was probably the only mystery in her mind. 

    By the time these thoughts raced through my head, I had my face buried deep in Trevor’s lap and his cock head bouncing off the back of my throat. 

    His pre-cum and my saliva mixed to form sticky goo that was accumulating in the back of my mouth. On each upstroke of my bobbing head, I would part my lips slightly to let some of the mixture slide down the shaft of his cock and gather at the bottom of his pubic area. Eventually it would seep on down and settle in my right hand that was cupping his loosely hanging ball sack. 

    Trevor’s balls stopped where his leg met to guard the opening of his anal region. By this time my hand was coated with our sexual wetness so I used the salty mixture to lather the fur hugging his nut sack. Occasionally I would reach under his nut sack to massage his perineum and slide my wet finger into the crack where his legs met. 

    I wanted to tongue fuck his opening so I let go of his wet cock. 

    I put my face between his legs and tried to pry them open wider, but his briefs were stretched tight across his thighs limiting my access. 

    Trevor said, “Ugh … ugh…I’m close. Stop tonguing me and put my cock back in your mouth.”

    My face was wet with our sex. As I came up for air, I saw the woman, back from the store and standing by her car watching. I quickly glanced away and went back to work. 

    Trevor took my head in his hands and guided my mouth back onto his cock. This time he held my head still while he thrust his cock into me, fucking my mouth like it was a pussy. I just closed my lips around his shaft and opened the back of my throat and let him fuck me. 

    After a minute or two of this, Trevor’s grip on my head got tighter and his pumping cock more forceful. His balls stopped slapping his inner thighs as his sac drew his balls tightly against the bottom of his shaft. Trevor’s breathing was rapid and shallow so I knew he was close. Proving I was right, he asked, “Do you want me to cum in your mouth?”

    I shook my head, yes, letting him keep his rhythm. 

    “Oh my God,” he moaned. 

    I immediately forced my face into his lap, against his pumping hips, pinning his ass down to the car seat. As he started his orgasm, he was all the way inside my mouth, the head of his cock past the entrance of my throat without triggering my gag reflex. 

    His pubic hair rubbed against my nose and lips. He was wet and the quasi-chlorine smell of the cum was intense. That combined with the musky smell of sex and perspiration that permeated the air in the car a primal, erotic mixture. I found this so erotic that I continued to press my face down in his lap, feeling each spasm of his approaching orgasm. I kept my head still and waited. Trevor’s hands were still on my head.

    In a flash, Trevor grabbed both hands to my head and I literally saw his balls draw up into his crotch. The he suddenly stiffened all over and cried, “I’m cumming … I’m gonna cum … I’m cumming…fuck!” 

    Then I felt the first jet of thick, hot cum blast into my throat. His cum was salty and sweet and was such a cool sensation to have it sliding down my throat. It was followed by pulsation after pulsation and I felt like my mouth was filling with thick, hot cum. Then again and again, Trevor continued to pump cum into my mouth. 

    Trevor held my head and thrust against my face as I resisted his thrusts but not his cum. Stream after stream after stream of Trevor’s hot gooey cum poured down my throat. Smiling, he kept pumping his cock into me until he was done. I kept him in my mouth until his spasms subsided. He stayed hard the whole time. Finally he said, “I through, so I pulled my head up and let his cock slip out of my mouth.

    He slipped his underwear back on while I was pulling mine off. As I added my underwear to the pile clothes on the floor at my feet, I was completely naked. I lowered my seat down and spread my legs wide, inviting him to do whatever he wanted with me. I was dripping pre-cum in anticipation. 

    Just when he made his move for my crotch, he saw what I’d seen earlier, the woman standing by her car, obviously watching. He was totally spooked and stopped the whole thing. He stammered nervously, “Thanks, you were great, but we gotta go. There’s someone out there watching.” 

    “Hurry,” he said. I quickly put my shirt and jeans on and then asked him for a pen. I wrote my phone number on the waistband of my briefs and tossed them in his lap. I told him, “Call me,” as I stepped out of the car and walked over to mine. 

    When I glanced at her, the mystery woman was smiling knowingly at me as she got in her car. 

    My erection was clearly visible through my jeans as she drove past me on her way out of the parking lot. Stopping and rolling down her window, she said, “My husband likes to have his dick sucked and I like to watch.” As she handed me a business card, she said, “Call me.” Then giving me a little wave, she licked her lips and drove away. 

    As I stood there Trevor pulled past me, staring straight ahead as he sped away.   

    The end …


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  • My Son Home On Leave

    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]


    My Son Home On Leave

    Hunter came into the room in his briefs, drying his hair, just as I was dialing Jim to cancel out on our monthly gathering. He had seen it marked on the calendar and asked about it but I told him I wouldn’t be going.

    “Dad, you don’t have to cancel any plans on my account. I’m home two days early,” he said.

    Yeah, and how was I going to get through it, I wondered, eyeing his mostly naked, muscular frame. “It’s no big deal. I’m glad you’re home, we’re not going to waste that precious time with me going off to play cards and drink beer with a bunch of guys.”

    “I can find something to do,” he said.

    By that time Jim had picked up. I explained to him about Hunter being home on leave.

    “Bring him along,” he said.

    It was a novel idea that sent chills down my spine.

    “I doubt he would fit in with that bunch,” I joked.

    “We’ll make him feel welcome,” Jim said with an evil chuckle.

    “I don’t think so,” I said, but all the while I was trying to picture my son’s reaction to my circle of casual friends. It would be a way to let him know about his old man, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the risk of destroying our relationship.

    “I’ll warn the guys to be on their best behavior,” Jim was saying. “They ought to be able to do that this one time. We’ll play cards and drink beer like we tell everybody we’re doing. I don’t think anybody would mind forgoing the usual activities to get to meet a Marine hunk. At least ask him if he would like to come.”

    I hesitated, almost in a fearful panic. I would like very much for them to meet Hunter but I was afraid it would be impossible for them to refrain from their usual remarks and antics, and it wouldn’t be fair for them to forgo the sex.

    “Ask him,” Tim said again.

    I turned around to Hunter.  “Tim says for you to come along.”

    “I don’t want to intrude,” he said.

    Tim heard him.  “It wouldn’t be an intrusion,” he said.

    I repeated his message.

    “No, you go ahead, I’ll be okay,” Hunter insisted.

    “Tell him we will be expecting him, and that’s final. I’m sure as a Marine, he knows how to take orders.”

    “Tim just ordered you to be there,” I told him.

    Hunter laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I can’t disobey an order. Okay, I’ll come.”

    “Great! I’ll alert everyone to be on their best behavior,” Tim said.

    It was settled and now I was nervous.  I wanted desperately for my son to know about my sexual leanings but I’d never figured out a way to tell him. Now I was fearful that he might make the discovery by accident because once the guys got a look at Hunter, I didn’t trust them to be on their best behavior.  But it was too late. I couldn’t cancel now without Hunter thinking I didn’t want him to meet my friends, or my friends to meet him.

    Saturday morning when he came down for breakfast he asked me what time we were supposed to be there.

    “Any time around noon, there’ll be food,” I said.

    “That gives me plenty of time to shower and shave.”

    He took his time while I stewed about how the afternoon might go. I stewed more whether I should tell him in advance what might be in store for him; and thus, expose myself, for that would surely come up.  I should at least warn him about some of the guys he would meet. I was sure there would be no one absent once word got around that I was bringing my Marine son. I wondered if Jim would tell everybody to stay dressed; I forgot to mention that. I was surprised and disappointed when Hunter came down in civvies.

    “They’re expecting to meet a Marine, you should wear your uniform,” I said.

    “You can tell ‘em I’m a Marine, in case they can’t tell,” he said, rubbing his hand over his high and tight haircut.

    “I really would like for you to wear it,” I said. “I’m proud to have a Marine son.”

    He shrugged.  “Okay. No problem.  Not my dress blues, though.”

    “No, your regular dress uniform with the short-sleeved shirt. You don’t even have to wear a tie.”

    He went back up and changed. On the drive to the little town where we always met, I was still in a turmoil. I was sorely tempted to make up some excuse to turn around and go back home.  If not that, then at the very least, I had to be truthful to Hunter about the group so he would know what to expect.

    “Look, Hunter, before we get there, you need to know something about these guys,” I began, my heart in my throat. I wished I hadn’t said anything, but I’d opened my mouth and I couldn’t back out and now I didn’t have any idea what I was going to say.

    “What, have some of them got three heads or something?” he asked with a curious look.

    “Well, not quite that, but…well, depending on who shows up, it’s sometimes a weird bunch of guys, and we…..”

    “Don’t apologize for your friends, Dad,” he said.

    “They’re not exactly friends. More like acquaintances.  I don’t see them except at our monthly gatherings. I was going to say, we, uh….well, we sometimes do more than just play poker and stuff.” What a line of bull! I’d never even seen a deck of cards at the gatherings. We got together for sex, pure and simple. I just hoped Jim would think to lay out some decks of cards.

    A smile came across his face.  “Are you telling me you have strippers, Dad?” he asked.

    “Sometimes, yes,” I said, quickly grabbing hold of his remark as a safety net. It wasn’t exactly a lie, we did have a young male stripper one time and I wished at that moment that strippers, female, were on the program. “And we sometimes watch porn videos and shit like that.”

    “You think I’ve never seen a porn video? Or are you nervous that I’ll be watching it with you?”

    “Naw, that won’t bother me. But you never know what’s going to happen, you know, with a bunch of guys watching porn and drinking. One time I walked in and two guys were drunk as hell, stark naked.”

    “Well, I am in the Marines, Dad, I’ve seen my share of naked guys,” he said.

    “Another time this younger guy showed up, turned out he was gay; he more or less set up shop in the bedroom.”

    “Well, we never had that in the barracks,” he said, laughing.

    “Well, I just wanted you to know that it’s not your run of the mill, Saturday afternoon poker game,” I said. By that time I was pulling up at the house. I hoped Tim had clued everybody in on their behavior, and I needed to get to him quickly about the strippers.

    We walked around to the back door and let ourselves in. I plunked down the ten bucks we all kicked in to cover the cost of food and drink, in a basket sitting on the washer, and we went on into the kitchen.

    I was relieved to see Colton and Ted acting like they had some upbringing for a change. At least they weren’t having sex on the butcher block, and they were mostly dressed; Colton in a pair of khaki cargo shorts, no shirt, and Ted in a pair of cutoff jeans, also shirtless. Colton was a tall, lean, muscular guy about thirty with a huge cock, usually the favorite of the bunch unless somebody showed up with a younger kid. Ted was about his same age, soft around the edges, who never let Colton out of his sight or reach.  He usually spent the entire afternoon hogging Colton’s cock. Everybody greeted us warmly, more so, I was sure, because I had my Marine son with me. I introduced him to Tim and Colton and Ted and a couple more guys who wandered in the kitchen who heard us come in. They too were dressed for comfort.

    “This is my son, Hunter. Or, they call him Gunner,” I told everyone.

    “I wonder why that would be?” someone said in his best masculine tone.

    I quickly cornered Tim.  “He asked if we have strippers and I told him sometimes. So if you could make up a story that the strippers couldn’t make it?”

    “Sure, I’ll cover your ass,” Tim said with a grin.

    “And you warned everyone.”

    “Yes but I wouldn’t count it being too effective after getting a look at your boy,” Tim said.

    “We’ll wish for the best,” I said.

    Needless to say, Hunter went over big, and for good reason. He was a stud. Six-foot-three, two hundred thirty pounds of hard muscle, drop dead good looking, with an easy smile and a mischievous gleam always in his eyes. In uniform, he was drop dead deadly. His thick-muscled neck stuck up out of his shirt, set on broad, thick shoulders. A little flurry of hair bristled over the neckband of his white T-shirt. The front of his shirt, with his medals on one side, strained against his massive chest, and his arms fairly bulged inside the snug sleeves. His upper body taped down to a lean waist tucked inside a pair of dress pants.

    Tim offered him something to drink.

    “Beer would be great,” he said.

    “Beer it is. And don’t run out; if I forget my manners, just help yourself,” Tim said. “You can introduce yourself to the other guys as you go along, in the living room and wherever else you might find them.”

    I wished he hadn’t said wherever else.  Wherever could only mean one of the bedrooms and I was hoping to hell there wasn’t anybody in wherever-land, doing what they usually did.

    “The air conditioning is on the blink, so as you can see we’re making do with fans, so feel free to get as comfortable as you like,” Tim said as he showed us into the living room.

    I wondered if the air conditioning was really not working or if it was turned down so it would be uncomfortably warm in the house so there would be an excuse for everybody to still shed some or most of their clothes even though I’d brought Hunter.

    In the living room I got the shocker I half expected. Everybody was partially to scantily clad except Ernie. There sat big Ernie, clad in a jockstrap. It looked like a Band-Aid on his huge body. Hunter didn’t seem the least bit taken aback. Tim introduced Hunter as my son and left everyone to introduce themselves. Hunter politely acknowledged them all with a salute with his beer then turned his attention to the porn video that was playing, as if Ernie wasn’t even there. I was relieved that it was at least a bi-video, with two guys and a girl. I was sure he could handle that. We moved out of the way, to stand behind the couch.

    “Here, come sit down,” Douglas said as he moved over against another guy to try to make room for Hunter beside him. It wasn’t nearly enough room for his big frame which I knew was the reason he’d invited him to sit there.

    “Thanks, it looks pretty crowded. I’m okay,” Hunter said.

    I noticed then that greedy Ted had suddenly abandoned Colton, probably for the first time ever. He was standing in the doorway, ogling Hunter. I didn’t fuckin’ fault him for it, but this wasn’t the time, and he had been warned about his behavior. Not that a warning would make any difference; Ted was more than greedy, he was a cock hungry predator.

    Just then Tim came in with two clothes hangers.

    “I know you need to keep everything neat, so here’s a couple of hangers if you want to shed your shirt or whatever,” he said.

    “Thanks,” Hunter said, taking the hangers.

    We stood for a few more minutes watching the video and me wondering what Hunter was thinking and what he was going to do about removing his shirt. I hadn’t told him we could leave anytime he wanted to, but I would do that at the earliest moment. In the video, one guy was fucking the girl while he got pounded in the ass by his buddy; I wished I knew what Hunter thought of that. I wondered if he thought it strange that nobody was playing poker, there wasn’t a table or a deck of cards anywhere in sight. And he had to be wondering about big Ernie, sitting over there in his Band-Aid jock strap. Colton got up from the couch.

    “So, where are you stationed, Gunner?” he asked as he came up around to stand beside us. “Is it all right if I call you Gunner, or is that reserved for your studly Marine buddies?”

    “It’s fine. I’m heading for San Diego from here,” Hunter said, looking away from the video.

    “I’ve been there. Great town. Wonderful scenery everywhere you look,” Colton said.  “Listen, we could probably find something more to your liking,” he said then, motioning to the video playing.

    “No, it’s okay. Porn’s porn,” Hunter said with a sexy smile.

    “Oh, really? I like your attitude,” Colton said, laughing. “Well, there’s plenty to choose from there in the cabinet. And if we get tired of those, well, we can just make our own.”

    Ted didn’t look happy about Colton taking such a shine to Hunter. Ted scared me. Like I said, he was a cock predator and he was known to push in to get hold of a big, hard cock.

    “It’s terribly warm in here, why don’t you give me your shirt,” Colton said, picking up one of the hangers.

    “Good idea, thanks,” Hunter said, much to my surprise. While he was unbuttoning it, Colton boldly pulled it out of his trousers for him. Hunter looked a little surprised but he didn’t say anything, not even when Colton helped take it off his shoulders. Rubbing salt in the wound, when he’d put the shirt on the hanger, he handed the hanger to Ted and asked him to hang it up. Then he turned his attention back to Hunter, his eyes raking over his massive upper body. Hunter was fairly bulging out of his T-shirt.

    “Did the Marines do that?” Colton asked him.

    Hunter looked around at him.  “Do what?” he asked.

    “That. All those muscles.”

    “Oh,” Hunter said, laughing.  “I got most of it from my Dad, but the Marines added the finishing touches.”

    “Yes, I can see how you resemble your father. Nice finishing touches by the Marines, though,” Colton said.

    I didn’t know whether to be worried or not. Colton was definitely coming onto him, but it was in such a way that Hunter didn’t seem to be at all offended, if he even realized it. I could see Ted seething. Just then Tim came out with a fresh beer.

    “Your beer gets warm pretty fast in here, here’s a fresh one,” he said.

    “This is okay,” Hunter said.

    “No, let’s keep it cool,” Tim said, taking the remainder of his warm beer and handing him a fresh one. I could tell by his tone that he was giving a warning.

    “Yes, let’s keep you cool,” Colton said. “Why don’t you give me your T-shirt.”

    Hunter blinked with surprise.

    “And I’ve got another hanger for your pants when you need it,” Tim added.

    Hunter looked at me. It was a mix of a “what-the-hell-is-going-on” and “what-do-I-do-now” look. I decided to help Colton out.

    “It is getting pretty warm in here,” I said as I pulled my pullover shirt out of my jeans.

    Hunter reluctantly followed my lead. He crossed his arms and skinned his shirt off over his head. Colton’s eyes popped, as did everyone else’s in the room as his torso exploded out of the waist of his pants.  He handed the shirt to Colton and lowered his arms, his thick pecs settling powerfully on his chest above the armored-plate wash-board abs.

    “Damn!” Colton swore, his eye raking over his naked upper body.

    “Holy Shit! The Marines sure do build men,” someone else said.

    “Your boy is built like a brick hothouse,” Ernie said.

    Hunter looked embarrassed, although he had to be eating it up. And the guys thought I was built.  Colton held the empty pants hanger to him, the one Tim had left for his pants.

    “I’m okay this way,” Hunter said.

    “Well, I’ll lay it right here in case you change your mind, or in case someone convinces you otherwise,” Colton said with a smile.

    Tim kept the beer coming. I couldn’t be sure how many beers Hunter had because Tim kept replacing the warm ones with cold ones. And I didn’t know how much beer Hunter could handle. When the bi video was over, someone slipped in a new video, one that was totally gay. I wished they hadn’t, and I braced myself for Hunter’s reaction. 

    “Are you sure we came to the right place?” Hunter asked me under his breath. “I haven’t seen a deck of cards since we got here.”

    Douglas, sitting in front of us on the couch, heard him and looked around with a wide grin. “I’ll bet he wants to get a poker game started,” he said to me.

    “I told him that’s what we do,” I said.

    Colton picked up on it.  He left and came back with a deck of cards. “All right, everyone, Hunter wants to play strip poker.”

    “Hey, I didn’t say strip poker,” Hunter said, laughing.

    “There is only one kind of poker in this house.” Colton declared with authority.

    “I don’t know how to play poker,” Ernie said.

    “Obviously, you don’t need to, you’re already down to your jockstrap,” Colton said with some disdain.

    “Neither do I,” Ted chimed in.

    Several others chimed in that they didn’t know how to play poker and I felt myself sinking. Fuck, they were throwing me under the bus. It pretty much blew my cover; I’d told Hunter that we were a bunch of poker players and almost none of them even knew how to play.  Or had I told him just that we played cards? I couldn’t remember.

    “That’s all right, we don’t have to play,” Hunter said as he fumbled with the deck of cards someone had handed him.  “Anyway, this isn’t a poker deck,” he said.

    Shit!  Another nail in my coffin.

    Tim came in just then with another beer for him.

    “We’ll make it simple for everyone; we’ll play one-card draw,” Colton said.

    “No, really, it’s okay,” Hunter said again.

    But Tim went on, ignoring him.  “Everyone draws a card, low card loses and that person has to take something off. Aces are high.” The question of whether it would be strip poker was settled. I was a little surprised but pleased that Hunter was such a good sport and was apparently going along with it. I wondered if that was partly because of the beer he’d consumed.

    “Is this where it starts to get weird?” he whispered to me.

    Colton shuffled the cards and held the deck up for Hunter to draw a card.  Then he went around the room, letting each man draw a card, including two more guys who came into the room. The luck of the draw; Big Ernie had a two of hearts. The room exploded with laughter, since all he had on was a jockstrap. He laughed along with them as he wriggled off the couch and managed to pull the tiny garment off. Tiny it was, but it needn’t have been any bigger to hold his manhood that look grossly undersized for his size.

    Douglas got the low card on the next hand and took off his shirt. Then Ted lost a sock. Colton lost a sock. On the next hand, I drew a four. I took off one shoe. Next hand, Hunter drew a three and everyone applauded as he took off one shoe. The game went fast and Tim kept bringing in cold beer to keep the temperature down; or to bring it up, I couldn’t be sure. At one point, when I went to the bathroom, I stopped and checked the thermostat and clicked the air button but nothing happened. Tim saw me.

    “It really is broken,” he said. “The repairman was supposed to be here this morning.”

    I felt rather foolish. I went back to the living room to find more clothes in the pile in the middle of the room, and Hunter down to his trousers, no shoes or socks. The game was moving fast.

    “Are we going to play till everyone loses all their clothes?” someone asked.

    “No, only till he loses all of his clothes,” Colton said, pointing to Hunter, laughing.

    “Only till the strippers get here,” Colton added.

    “Yeah, where the hell are the strippers?” I asked, glancing at my watch, but I was ignored. It did sound pretty lame; everyone knew we never had strippers at our gatherings.

    Douglas was the next to lose the last of his clothes. Everyone applauded as he stood up and shoved his shorts down and kicked them into the pile. Tim handed him a beer as a reward. I knew now that all bets were off. The gathering was going to revert to its original intent and activities despite Tim’s best efforts to have everyone on their best behavior.  But Hunter seemed to be okay with it; in fact, he seemed to be having a good time. I suspected part of it was the beers he’d downed, making him feel relaxed. And being the best built guy in the room didn’t hurt his ego any. I just hoped he drowned his inhibitions.  He didn’t seem to mind at all when he lost the next hand and had to take off his trousers, leaving him in nothing but a pair of tiny, green and tan camo briefs. Godd, the way he filled them out was almost criminal and I could see guys craning to see. I knew there was no way of holding back the tide now that they’d seen him like this. All I could do was let whatever happened, happen, and try to explain my way out of it later if I had to. 

    “My Godd, do you wear those around the barracks?” Colton asked him as he helped him place his pants on the hanger

    “Sure, a lot of guys wear them,” Hunter said.

    “Man, that wasn’t regulation when I was in the Marines,” one guy said.

    “I’m going to see my friendly recruiter first thing in the morning,” said someone else.

    I went into the kitchen to get myself another beer.  I was embarrassed, and sweating.  The conversation was going to get out of hand, I just knew it.

    “Your son is a stud,” Tim said quietly.

    “Yeah, he is. Thanks,” I said.

    “I’m glad you brought him. So is everybody else, obviously.”

    “Well, I’m not sure it was such a good idea.  Things are going to get out of hand,” I said.

    I did my best,” Tim said. “The only other thing I can do is declare the gathering over and send everyone home.”

    “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

    “He doesn’t have a clue about you, then.”

    “I’m sure he will have some suspicions in very short order,” I said, rubbing the cold beer across my forehead.

    “Don’t worry about it,” Tim said. “Colton has sure warmed up to him. And he’s a good sport; he seems to be taking everything in stride. Here, you take him a fresh beer.”

    “Are you trying to get him drunk?” I asked.

    “Yes, of course,” Tim said, laughing.

    “You were supposed to keep everything under control,” I said.

    “I tried. I told everyone to be on his best behavior.  But I’m afraid this is their best behavior.”

    “At some point, make an announcement that the strippers aren’t going to show up. That’ll lend some legitimacy to the situation.”

    I didn’t know what had happened with the so-called poker game but Hunter was still in his briefs and all eyes were on him. No wonder. He was magnificent with his incredibly muscular body amplified by the tiny garment that strained and bulged to contain his sizeable manhood.

    Tim chose that moment to make the announcement.

    “Guys, I regret to inform you that the strippers won’t be able to make it.  Sorry, I know how much you look forward to them.”

    It was good but I didn’t know if it was good enough.

    “That’s okay, we’ve got a stripper her straight form the U.S. Marine Corps,” somebody said.

    “What happens when we’ve all lost our clothes? Which is going to be very soon,” someone said to Colton.

    “We keep on playing,” he said.

    “What’re the stakes?”

    “Low man has to give the high draw a blowjob,” Colton said.

    There was a roar of laughter and applause, which included Hunter’s own easy laughter. I suspected the beer was having its effect on him, and I think he really did think there were strippers coming and that this was all just interim fun and games. But he didn’t look disappointed that they weren’t coming. I replaced his beer and took the partly empty one to the kitchen. I stood at the door to watch, purposely putting myself out of the game.

    My heart leapt in my throat when Hunter lost the next hand with a five of spades. More applause, then silence. I waited, nearly breathless, as was most everyone else.

    “I think you lost the draw, Marine,” somebody told him.

    He nodded, with a tight grin as everyone waited. He was still standing behind the couch. Finally, he handed his beer off and with a shrug, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts. Heads turned and necks craned as he pulled them down.  He bent over to pull them off. He straightened and tossed them over the couch into the pile in the middle of the living room. The couch struck him across his upper thighs so his manhood was fully exposed over the back of the couch.

    “My Godd!” someone gasped.

    “Holy Shit! Would you look at that cock!”

    “If the Marines did that, I’m joining first thing Monday morning,” said someone else. Everyone laughed.

    “Well, hell, we know where he gets it,” someone else. 

    I cringed, breathless. Fuck, don’t say that, I thought. But Hunter didn’t seem to hear it over the laughter. Or maybe he’d had enough to drink that he wasn’t focusing on what was being said.

    Hunter continued to take the merriment all in stride, laughing with pride. I tried to take it in stride but I was as aghast as everyone else when I saw him naked. His cock was huge. It hung down in a slight arch, thick and meaty and heavy, draped over a pair of balls that belonged on the same stallion his cock did. I hadn’t seen his manhood for a long time. I felt my heartbeat kick up and sweat breaking out on my forehead. I drew the cold beer bottle across my forehead.

    Attention was drawn back to the game as Colton shuffled the cards and held out the deck to the few men who still had something on. Finally, everyone was naked except Tim and me. Nobody said anything about us still having our clothes on.

    “Oh, shit, here comes the coup-de-grace,” someone said.

    “Yeah, this is the blowjob draw,” said someone else with eagerness in his tone. 

    My breath began to come hard as I felt a tightness in my chest. The next draw of cards was going to be crucial. Godd, what if Hunter drew the low card?  No way was he going to give anybody a blowjob.  And if he drew the high card, would he let the loser give him head? I wondered if he even grasped the meaning of this final draw. At this point, with the atmosphere in the room and Hunter’s consumption of beer, I wouldn’t bet either way on the latter, but I was sure it would all be over if he drew the low card.

    I’m sure everyone in the room thought Colton rigged the hand where Hunter drew an ace and he, Colton, ended up with a two of clubs. Again, the room erupted with laughter and applause as everyone hooted and shouted that he had to give Hunter a blowjob. Hunter was laughing, too, but when Colton came toward him, his shoulders slumped and his head down in defeat, Hunter stopped him.

    “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to,” he told him.

    “It’s the rules!” someone shouted and everyone chimed in.

    Colton started to go to his knees but Hunter held him up and reached down and put one hand in front of his manhood. Colton tried to act relieved. 

    “Ah, the victor shows mercy to the vanquished; thank you, sire,” he said, laughing.

    Everyone booed.

    “Where did Ted go?” I asked Tim.

    He nodded to the bedroom down the hall from the kitchen. “Randy showed up. He’s down there with him.”

    Tim saw my look of dismay. “They’ve got the door shut,” he said quietly. Then he smiled and added, “Actually, I’m not so sure your son would be all that upset.  He seems to be going along with everything.  Personally, I think he would be okay learning about you.”

    “But I don’t want to take the chance,” I said.

    Tim got two beers out of the fridge.  “Here, take him another beer.”

    “You are trying to get him drunk,” I said.

    “I said I was, to lower his inhibitions,” he said.

    I took the fresh beer in to him but saw that the one he had was barely touched.

    “I don’t think you need this, but Tim sent it,” I told him as we exchanged the beers. Then I went back into the kitchen, leaving Hunter still standing behind the couch, naked, now watching the new porn flick someone had put in. I wondered if he would get hard. I wondered so many things……

    I went down the hall to the back bedroom and eased the door open to find Randy stretched out across the bed, his legs slung over the edge of the mattress, and Ted crouched down between his legs, sucking his cock. Randy saw me and waved me in. I went in and closed the door.

    “Why didn’t you bring your son in with you?” Ted asked, as he rose up with Randy’s cock in his fist.

    “I’m not here for that.  I just wanted to ask you not to let things get out of hand with him here,” I said.

    “You need to be telling Colton that,” Ted said, sounding a bit perturbed. “He’s practically raping him with his eyes.”

    “With his eyes,” I said.

    “I won’t try anything your son doesn’t want me to do. That’s the best I can promise,” Ted said.

    Randy had his hand on Ted’s head, urging him back down on his cock.

    “I got a good look at him,” Randy said. “Man, if he unwinds and lets loose, I think I could even turn gay for the day, for him.”

    I watched for a few minutes—Randy was a muscular little hottie, barely twenty–then I left the room, closing the door behind me. I stood for a moment trying to gather my thoughts. There was little doubt in my mind that things were going to get out of hand, and very soon. What should I do?  My choices were limited. I could suggest to Hunter that we leave before things got entirely out of hand, and make my apologies for exposing him to it.  Or I could see how things played out, and possibly even use it to come out to my son. The latter terrified me. 

    Back in the living room, I found Hunter sitting sideways on the back of the couch and the TV had been turned on to a football game. He was wearing his camo-briefs again. I was so relieved. I went over to him.

    “I see you recovered your shorts,” I said.

    “Yeah, I had Colton get them for me. I wasn’t about to go in the middle of the room and find them.”

    “How’s your beer?” I asked.

    “I’m okay. I just don’t know how much I’ve really had, I never get one down before somebody’s handing me another one.”

    I didn’t see Colton or a couple of other guys.  I looked around to see the other bedroom door just off the living room was closed. I was thankful that they had at least closed the door; it was usually left wide open. I sat on the arm of the couch. I wondered when they’d turned on the game in place of the videos and whose idea it was. I guessed that it was at Hunter’s request, or perhaps someone had thought he was uncomfortable with the situation and turned it to a football game.

    Just then there was a hard knock at the back door and Tim went to answer it. I stood and stepped in the kitchen doorway to see who it was.

    “I’m here to fix the air conditioner,” I heard the voice say. “I’ve checked your unit and it needs Freon, but I need to check the connection at your furnace before I add any, to see if there’s a leak.”

    “Certainly,” Tim said. “But first I should ask if you’re broad minded, because if you’re not—if you are easily offended—we might want to reschedule this call.”

    He gave a confused frown.  “Yeah I guess I am. Not much bothers me,” he said

    “Good. Just don’t mind what you see; things are pretty much out of control around here,” Tim said as he opened the door for him.

    “I was in the Navy, I’ve seen about everything,” the young man said as he came out of the entryway into the kitchen.

    He was cute enough to make my heart go pitter-patter. Mid to late twenties, sandy-blonde buzz cut that set off his thick, muscular neck, which accented his powerful, broad shoulders.  He filled out his uniform shirt nicely, with a flurry of hair at the open collar, and a glimpse of deep cleavage. The name Kevin was on one pocket. He filled out his pants very well too; good thighs and butt, from what I could tell from the side.

    “This way,” Tim said to the repairman, then to everyone else, “Everyone on their best behavior! Kevin, the air conditioner man is here!” he announced as he took him into the living room.

    Everyone applauded and whooped Kevin’s name. The kid stopped at the door, visibly surprised. “Well, I’ve seen almost everything,” he joked to Tim. Everyone laughed. The guy didn’t seem bothered by what he saw.

    Tim showed him to the closet beside the refrigerator where the furnace and water heater were located.  I stood at the end of the couch where I could see in the kitchen and ogled the guy’s butt as he knelt to check whatever it was he had to check at the furnace. There was just a hint of butt crack where his shirt had pulled out of his pants. A delicious hint. I was almost wishing I hadn’t brought Hunter with me. I made a mental note to have Tim sabotage the air conditioning next month so we could have the guy back.  I would even pay for the call.

    “Okay, everything checks out here. I’ll go add some Freon and you’ll be set,” Kevin said as he straightened.

    He went back outside and in a few minutes we began to feel wafts of cool air coming through the vents. I went back to the kitchen to catch another glimpse of the kid when he would surely have to come back in to have his work order signed.

    “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to get him and your son together,” Tim whispered.

    “Yes! But how to make that happen!” I lamented.

    Kevin came back in with his clipboard. “I just need you to sign the work order and I can be on my way,” he told Tim.

    Tim took the clipboard and the pen. “I just happened to think, you’re working past your normal work hours,” he said as he scrawled his name on the work order.    

    “Yes, sir, we work till all the calls are answered. But this was my last call so I’m done for the day.”      

    “In that case, do you have time for a cold beer before you call it a day?” Tim asked.

    He thought about it for a moment, obviously wanting to take him up on it. “All right, then, a cold beer sounds great,” he said. Tim turned to get him a cold beer out of the fridge. I had the bottle opener handy.

    “At the risk of seeming bold and forward, you are also welcome to get comfortable, and go in and watch the game,” Tim said. “Or they might have porn back on by now.”   

    “Is this, uh… some kind of a club?” Kevin asked with a sly grin.

    “You could say that,” Tim said. “We get together once a month to play cards, drink beer, watch porn, or football, do whatever.”

    “Looks like a real laid-back fun time,” Kevin said.

    “Some times are more fun and laid back than others,” I put in jokingly.

    “Seriously, you are more than welcome to get comfortable and join us,” Tim said.

    He walked over and stood in the doorway of the living room to look at the game for a moment. I could see he was taking in the scenery of naked guys as well; quite a natural thing to do. I saw the way Hunter looked at him, and how Kevin noticed Hunter. That was natural too, them being the two youngest and best built guys present, except for Randy….and Hunter clad only in his camo briefs. I glanced at Tim and he was looking at me. We both nodded, smiling. I wondered if part of my smile was to cover my nervousness.

    “What’s the score?” Kevin asked Hunter.

    “Thirteen-six,” Hunter said.

    I was pleased that they two had connected like that so quickly, but it wasn’t surprising. 

    Kevin turned away from the door. “Hey, if you’re sure you don’t mind…if I wouldn’t be intruding,” he said to Tim, motioning toward the living room with his beer.

    “Not at all, it would not be an intrusion.  I don’t think anyone here knows the meaning of the word. Feel free to get comfortable. Everyone else played strip poker and tossed their clothes in a pile.  I’ll take yours if you want, and hang them up for you,” Tim offered. “Or not; you decide,” he added.

    He hesitated, looking back at Hunter, then smiled and said, “Okay, I guess if it’s part of the rules.” He came back in the kitchen and set his beer on the counter and began unbuttoning his shirt. Tim got a hanger out of the bathroom and I took his shirt when he took it off and hung it on the hanger for him. My heart was thudding as I watched him undress, more so that he was being so casual about it, like he stripped off his clothes every call he made. Maybe he did. He was certainly built for service, of any kind.  Tim and I watched as he bent to unlace his work boots and take them off, both of us eyeing the delicious butt crack exposed above the waist of his jeans. Then he straightened and reached for his beer, but saw Tim holding another hanger.

    “For your pants,” Tim said.

    It was funny, how Kevin glanced at Hunter first, then reached for his belt.

    Tim was at the ready to take his pants for him when he took them off.

    “Is this okay?” Kevin asked with a shrug as he handed off his pants and stood in his socks, briefs and T-shirt.

    “If that’s the way you’re comfortable,” Tim said.

    “If you don’t mind I think I’ll slip my work boots back on, I feel naked without them,” Kevin said, laughing.

    “Those briefs look terribly uncomfortable to me,” Douglas said as he walked into the kitchen.  “Off with them,” he said, and snapped the waistband in the back. It brought a laugh but Kevin made no move to take off his shorts. “Well at least lose the T-shirt,” Douglas said.

    Kevin complied.  He had just handed me his T-shirt when Colton came into the kitchen. He had apparently just finished up with whoever he’d taken into the bedroom.  His cock was hanging heavy and thick after its workout, and still glistening with spit and semen.

    “Whoa! Who is this?!” he exclaimed, stopping short, when he saw Kevin standing there in tight boxer briefs and work boots with his work socks hugging his calves.

    “This is Kevin, the air conditioning man,” Tim said.

    “We felt cool air coming in, but all of a sudden, it’s warming up again,” Colton said, putting a hand on Kevin’s shoulder.  “Be right back.”

    When Colton was in the bathroom, Kevin looked warily at Tim with a grin on his face.  “Can I ask, is this, uhhh….I mean is this what it looks like?  Is this some kind of club, where….I mean, are some of these guys….sort of gay?”

    I laughed.  

    “Sort of grossly understates the situation,” Tim said, laughing too. “Let me count the ways.”

    “No shit! You mean, I…I could…they would…uhhh…hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

    “Let me help you,” Tim said. “You’re trying to say, would one of these guys be kind enough to give you a blowjob, and the answer would be a resounding yes. And not just one of them, but all of them. Well, except one. The big stud in on the back of the couch; he’s a straight Marine. All you’re going to do with him, I’m afraid, is watch football.”

    “Whew!  I thought I’d seen everything. Now I guess I have.”

    “Well, I’m glad you got it cooled off for us,” I said.

    Kevin picked up his beer and went into the living room and stood beside Hunter behind the couch. I heard him and Hunter start talking, heard the words Navy and Marines and then they were shaking hands. Colton came out of the bathroom and asked where he was. Tim nodded to the living room.

    “He might be ripe for the picking, but be discreet, Colton,” Tim told him.

    “You’re telling me,” Colton gushed. “He’s a ripe plum and a peach and a cherry all rolled into one.”  He went into the living room and stood beside Kevin. I stood in the kitchen doorway to watch and wait and see what would happen. Tim stood at my shoulder. I wondered again why Tim set this up for us at his home each month but never took part.

    Colton didn’t waste any time. He sipped his beer with one hand and let his other hand drop down between him and Kevin. I saw him brush his hand against Kevin’s hip a couple of times and when he didn’t move away, Colton rubbed his hand along his thigh. Without looking down, he deftly moved his hand over the young repairman’s butt and I saw Kevin clench his hard muscles into his hand.

    “Damn!” Colton whispered as he felt the man’s ass. No one seemed to hear him, or they didn’t look around. I wondered if they even knew the young repairman was among them. He was standing behind the couch and they were all glued to the television.  Colton squeezed the guy’s butt, then shoved his hand down inside his shorts to get a feel of his bare ass.  All of this was out of Hunter’s sight.

    It went on for several minutes before Colton leaned in and whispered something in Kevin’s ear, nodding to the bedroom door behind them.  Kevin glanced over his shoulder at the door but didn’t move from the spot. Hunter glanced to the side then and I was sure he could see Colton’s arm behind Kevin but there was no reaction.  He looked a little bleary-eyed.

    “Does Hunter need another beer?” Tim asked me.

    “No,” I said. “I think he’s had enough. I think the back of the couch is holding him up.” He confirmed it when he moved away from the couch and staggered to the kitchen.

    “Hey, I haven’t been able to keep track of how much beer I’ve downed but it’s obviously too much. I hate to be a bore, but is it okay if I slip into the bedroom and lie down for a little bit?” he asked Tim.  He was indeed bleary-eyed. He looked at me with a blank look, even a split second who-the-hell-are-you look. Then he said, “Sorry if I embarrass you, Dad.”

    “You don’t embarrass me,” I said.  “Why don’t you go lie down.”

    He shoved himself out of the doorway. He was unsteady on his feet, holding onto things and the wall as he made his way into the bedroom.  He reached for the door behind him but barely touched it and it closed only a couple of inches.

    “Are Randy and Ted still in the other bedroom?” I asked Tim.

    “Last I looked in, Randy was fucking his eyeballs out,” Tim said.

    “Damn, they’ve been in there for a long time.”

    “You know Ted, when he gets hold of a cock, or gets one shoved in his ass, he’s good for the day.”

    “Yeah, but it’s usually when he’s got hold of Colton’s cock,” I said.

    “He would shit if he knew what Colton had hold of right now,” Tim said, nodding to Colton with his hand down the back of Kevin’s shorts.

    I went into the living room and stood at the back of the couch with Kevin and Colton, at the end closest to the door leading into the bedroom. There was a lamp on, casting the room in a soft light.  I could see Hunter was sprawled across the bed on his back, his arms flung over his head, his eyes closed. I wanted so bad to go in but I didn’t dare.  Kevin looked around and saw him; so did Colton.

    “He just went in to lie down,” I said to Colton.

    Just then Douglas was beside me, looking into the bedroom.

    “My Godd, he’s gorgeous!” Douglas said.

    “Yes. Thank you,” I said. 

    “But straight,” someone else said.

    I looked around to see Lenny standing with us, also looking in on Hunter.

    “How do you stand it, having him in the same house with you?” Douglas asked in a whisper.

    “I don’t think I could if he lived at home, but he’s home only on leave,” I said.

    “I want to bury my face in his beautiful butt,” Douglas said.

    “I want to bury my tongue,” Lenny put in.

    “I just want to get my hands on him. Anywhere. Everywhere,” said Douglas.    

    “I would be very careful if I were you,” I warned. “He is a Marine, and I don’t know what he might do if he felt somebody touch him.”

    “What a wonderful way to die, though,” said Lenny.

    “Well, right now he’s recovering from a little too much to drink,” I said.

    “Yeah, I would be very careful about touching a sleeping Marine,” Kevin put in.

    I stepped back and pulled the bedroom door closed as I went back into the kitchen.

    “He’s out,” I said to Tim.

    “Well, keep an eye out, so he doesn’t get raped while he’s out,” Tim said, only half joking.

    Douglas had followed me into the kitchen.  He came up to me and put his arm across my shoulder.  “I know we’re supposed to be on our best behavior, and you’re cautiously nervous with your son here, but he’s out like a light, so…….”  He reached down and squeezed the front of my jeans.  “Godd, I still can’t believe that thing,” he added hoarsely as he began unbuttoning my jeans.

    I put my hand down to stop him.  “Not here,” I said.  “I don’t want to take the chance of him waking up and coming out.”

    Douglas kept his grip on my crotch.  “Things are pretty much getting out of hand, getting back to normal,” he said, nodding to the living room.

    I glanced around and saw somebody standing in front of Big Ernie, getting his cock sucked, and someone else was bent in half over one end of the couch with someone else on his knees, rimming his ass. 

    I could see the top of Colton’s head moving back and forth, sucking Kevin standing behind the couch.  I was so horny I was hot in my clothes.

    “Are Ted and Randy still in the bedroom?” I asked, nodding toward the bedroom.

    “Doesn’t matter,” Douglas said.  He took hold of my belt and pulled me toward the bedroom.

    “I’ll run interference if he wakes up,” Tim told me.

    “Yes, do.  Thanks,” I said as I grabbed up my beer to take with me.

    I was anxious. I’d been with Douglas several times before. He could throw a mean fuck, and I was anxious to have him fuck me.  I didn’t care if I got off, I just wanted to feel his big, hot cock reaming my ass. 

    In the bedroom Ted and Randy were lying across the bed, making out like two lovers.  They had obviously finished having sex, evidenced by streaks of thick cum all over Randy’s chest and stomach, and now they were embraced and kissing passionately. 

    “Company.  You guys will have to move over,” Douglas said as we entered the bedroom.

    Neither of the lovers said a word, they just moved down to the foot of the bed, with barely a notice of who had come in, and kept on making out.  Douglas started undressing me.  I let him.  He kissed everywhere he bared and by the time I was down to my shorts they were tented.

    “I wanta fuck you, okay?” he said as he pulled my shorts down. I hissed, “Yess!” as my cock smacked against my stomach then fell outward and bobbed up and down.  “After I do this,” he added and he took my cock in his mouth.

    “Ohh, Godd, you’re good,” I moaned as I clasped my hands around his head and began fucking his mouth.  After a few minutes of giving me wonderful head, I was fucking deep into his throat. Meanwhile, he was playing with my butt and fingering my ass, getting me ready. I was riding his hand like it was a saddle, and his finger the saddle horn. 

    He said, “I think you’re ready,” and I told him I was, more than ready.

    Douglas pushed me back across the bed beside the other two guys and stood with my legs on his shoulders, my butt upturned.  “Fuck, man, I’ve missed this ass,” he said as he rubbed the head of his cock against my asshole that was twitching for his cock.

    “Fuck me, then.”

    I loved being fucked by Douglas, but I was thinking how I wanted to hold off from cumming.  I always delayed cumming as long as possible, to work in as much sex as possible.  Even now, with the situation with Hunter, I was entertaining thoughts in the back of my head–unwise, perhaps dangerous thoughts–that just maybe something could come of all of this with my son.

    I closed my eyes and braced myself for Douglas’s eight thick inches of man meat pressing hard against my hole.  I pushed my asshole out and he pushed through it.

    “Awwwh, fuck!” I groaned softly as he pushed in.  I held my breath as he impaled me.  “Godd, you’re big,” I gasped.

    “No bigger than last time, or all the other times before that,” he said.

    He was all the way in, his balls resting against my butt and I let the air out of my lungs. He began fucking me.  I was barely aware of Ted and Randy on the bed till I glanced over and saw them lying spooned together, watching us. 

    “Wish I had my camera,” Ted said.  “But I’ll settle for this,” he added as he rose up and bent over to take my cock in his mouth.

    “Guess I’m done here,” Randy said, and got up from the bed.

    I let myself up to the wonderful sex that Ted and Douglas were giving me.  Randy was back a few minutes later, wide-eyed and excited.

    “Holy Fuck!  I just checked the other bedroom and saw your son!  Fuck, he is hot!  He’s a stud!  But they said we can’t do anything with him.  He’s straight?”

    “Yes,” I said.

    “Oh, Mann, this is cruel and unusual punishment, bringing him here but we can’t touch him,” Randy said.

    “Hey, I thought you were a top,” Ted said, laughing, from down in my crotch.

    “Suddenly I’m a curious top,” Randy said. He left again.

    Douglas and Ted fucked and sucked me every way but loose.  I was sweating profusely by the time they were finished with me.  I managed to hold off.  They didn’t.  I left them cuddled on the bed and went to see if I could shower.

    Back in door of the living room I looked all around for Hunter. I felt a twinge of panic when I didn’t see him anywhere but the bedroom door was still closed. But then I didn’t see Colton, or Kevin.  I turned back into the kitchen to have a look in the bathroom, and ran into Tim. He must have noticed the look on my face.

    Tim was still being the gracious host.  He laughed at my sweating body and handed me a cold beer when I came into the kitchen.

    “Where’s Kevin and Colton? Did Colton leave?” I asked.

    “Colton spirited Kevin away into the bedroom,” Tim said.

    “With Hunter?”

    “Yes.”

    “Oh, shit!”

    “Why’re you looking so pale?”  He took a frosted mug out of the freezer and pressed it to my forehead.  “Hold this.  I’ll get you a beer.”

    “I don’t need another beer,” I said, but the cold on my forehead felt good.

    “Let me be the judge of that,” Tim said.

    “What I really need is a shower,” I said, rubbing one hand across my sweaty chest.  “And something to calm my nerves. Fuck, those two in there with him……”

    Tim poured a cold beer into the colder mug and I drank most of it whether I needed it or not.  Actually, I did.  I glanced toward the bedroom. 

    “Go shower,” Tim said.  “He’s a big boy; I think he can handle the situation.”

    I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I was awash with emotions; fear, panic, anger, jealousy, all rolled into one. My imagination ran wild, imagining Kevin and Hunter together, and with Colton. Not that anything was happening–they were both straight–but if it was…..   

    Jealousy and lust overrode all the other emotions swirling around in my head.  I didn’t know what to do.  I wanted to be in there.  I grabbed the cold beer and guzzled it while I waited for the shower to warm up.  I was drinking courage, something I desperately needed to face the dangerous thing I was about to do.

    I finished my shower in short order and quickly dried off then borrowed a few squirts of Tim’s Old Spice body spray.  I exited the bathroom with the towel around my waist and went down to the back bedroom to retrieve my shorts.  I pulled them on and went back to the kitchen.  Tim was coming out of the bathroom with the empty beer bottle. 

    He grabbed another beer out of the fridge and thrust it at me.  “The look on your face tells me you’re going to need this,” he said.

    “What look?” I asked with a scowl, but took another big drink of beer.

    “Let it out.  Be who you are.  At least be honest with him,” Tim said.

    “Godd, I want to so bad,” I said.

    “I don’t know what’s going on in there, if anything,” he said, nodding toward the bedroom off the living room.  “They’re probably both just asleep. But if they’re not…..what then?”

    “I don’t know.  I wish I did.  I wish I knew what to do…. what to say.”

    “He’s a big boy, and you’re lying to him.  Finish your beer then go on in and run the other two out and lock the door.  You’ll know what to do…..what to say,” Tim said.

    “But what if it’s too late?  What if they’ve already got something started with him?”

    “Well then you’ll have the answer to a question you never asked. He’s your son, dude, claim him,” Tim said.

    I chugged the rest of the beer, feeling my courage soar, and he took the bottle.  “If you’re wrong…….”

    “There is no right or wrong…..just truth,” he said.

    “Damn you, Tim,” I muttered as I moved toward the living room.  I heard him laugh.

    I stood behind the couch for a long moment, observing all the rampant sex going on in the living room, on both couches and the chair and on the floor. Far from being on their best behavior, it was an orgy.  If Hunter came out and saw it…..   

    I glanced around at the closed bedroom door and saw Tim looking at me from the kitchen.  It was a questioning, disgusted look.

    I went back in the kitchen.  “What if the door’s locked,” I said.  “If it is then I know something’s going on. If it isn’t……”

    “You don’t know if the door’s locked,” Tim cut in. “If it is, well I know how to unlock it.”

    “I would never intrude like that,” I said.

    “Then don’t intrude.  Just go see if the doors locked.”  He opened the refrigerator and jerked out another beer.  “Need more courage?” he asked.

    I pushed it aside.  No, I didn’t need more courage.  I needed what was on the other side of the bedroom door.  I needed the truth, more than any other time in my life, and so did my son.

    “Geezers, what if he…….?

    “Your son is a Marine.  Colton isn’t going to do anything he doesn’t want him to do,” Tim said.

    “That’s not the point.  It’s the questions I’ll face if he…..”

    “If you think he really needs protection, why don’t you go on in?”

    “Colton probably locked the door,” I said.

    “Probably, greedy slut that he is, but I have keys.”

    I pondered it for a moment.  I wasn’t at all sure of my motivation, whether it was an instinctive need to protect my son–ludicrous if you think about it–or something more dark and sinister, but I gulped down the rest of the icy beer and moved toward the bedroom. 

    “God, please don’t let me regret this,” I prayed silently as I put my hand around the doorknob. It turned without a sound and I gently pushed on the door. I opened it a crack. I could see Colton in the dim light of a small dresser lamp, on his knees between a pair of muscular thighs, his head moving up and down and I could hear the soft slurping noises and moans.  It struck me that he was making very long strokes up and down.  His left arm was reached out across another muscular thigh.  My heart went to my throat, threatening to choke me.  Was he sucking Hunter, or was his left hand……?

    I pushed the door open a little further and I could make out Hunter laid back across the bed, one arm flung out over his head, the other one laid across his eyes.  Colton had his hand around his cock, stroking it up and down but he was sucking Kevin.

    I heard Hunter mumble, “Are you going to get back over here?” and my blood ran cold.

    It was a moment before anyone was aware that there was a fourth person in the room. 

    “MMmnnnnn,” Colton murmured around Kevin’s cock as he kept stroking Hunter.  He gave it a few more slurps then moved over between Hunter’s legs.  He saw me but it was as if he didn’t.  He just looked at me as he bent over and took Hunter’s cock in his mouth.

    “Ohh, fuck yeah,” he moaned as Colton began sucking him.  He reached down with one hand to Colton’s head but let it drop to his side, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it there.

    My heart was thudding so fast and hard as I watched the erotic scene playing out before me, and I moved to the foot of the bed, closer to Hunter.

    Colton sucked him for a moment then stopped.

    “Why’d you stop?” Hunter asked sleepily with a grin. “I asked, why’d you stop,” Hunter said again. “It was just starting to feel good.”

    “Your Dad’s here,” Colton said in a quiet, hoarse voice.

    Hunter seemed to have an awareness of another presence and he removed his arm from across his eyes but it took a moment for him to focus.  I didn’t know if he was groggy from the beer, but suddenly he was looking at me.  It was a blank look, like a deer in the headlights, and I wondered if he even knew it was me standing there.  But then he spoke.

    “I hope I’m not disappointing you too much, Dad.”

    His expression didn’t change; it was still a blank look, and I couldn’t have been sure he knew it was me if he hadn’t called me Dad. He brought his arm up, the muscle bulging, but it wavered and I took hold of his hand.

    “Awwh, he’s good,” he moaned as he squeezed my hand.

    I almost said, I know, but I didn’t say anything.  I was in a bottomless moment of indecision. I found my gaze focused on Colton’s hand slowly stroking Kevin’s cock as he had done Hunter. I noticed his fingers didn’t reach all the way around it. They didn’t reach around Hunter’s cock either. I was mesmerized by the size of the two men.  I realized my mouth was watering, and also that it wasn’t indecision at all, but cold, numbing fear.  Fear of facing the decision already subconsciously made. 

    “Oh, Man, this is too weird,” Kevin said, raising up on his elbows. “Look, man–Dad–we were both asleep, we didn’t do anything, except till Colton came in…..”

    I thought it odd that Kevin felt the need to defend the two of them.

    “I think I’ve got this all figured out,” Hunter said.  “Why you were so reluctant to bring me along.”

    “Tim said he would have everyone on their best behavior,” I said.

    Kevin laughed. “I think Colton is on his behavior.”

    Colton was oblivious to everything except my son’s cock in his mouth and Kevin’s cock in his hand. My mind was in a turmoil.  I was here, but to what end? I knew my desires but common sense and decency got in the way. The battle raged.  Go for it, something told me….there are no secrets anymore, and Kevin is not your son, so why not?  I tried to think clearly but I’d had too much beer; Tim had seen to that.  Hunter was still feeling the effects of the beer, too, and I thought Kevin was as well.  There were several empty bottles on the dresser, no doubt brought in by Colton to ply the boys.

    I didn’t know what to do.  The options were limited, I could leave—and I should–or I could stay and watch, or stay and join in.  I wasn’t fully aware the precise moment when my mind was made up, probably before I even came into the room, but I found myself moving around the bed, around Colton on his knees, to Kevin, still listening to the little voice that kept reminding me he was not my son. There was no voice telling me that the man beside him was my son.

    Kevin lay there propped up on his elbows, watching my every move with a funny look of bewilderment and expectation.  I stood there for a moment between his legs and drank in the sight of him, letting my own expectations build up.  I swallowed to be able to speak as I looked over at Hunter.

    “I hope you’re not too disappointed in me,” I said as I went to my knees between Kevin’s muscular legs. I was barely able to get the words out, and I felt my entire life passing before me as I knelt down.  I knew it would never be the same again, but I shrugged off how it would surely change.  That was something to be dealt with later. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the hot, handsome, muscular young man stretched out before me…..and the hot, young marine beside him….and the truth.

    I took Kevin’s thick cock in my hand and pulled it upright.  My fingers barely touched around it. It throbbed in my grip, standing at least four inches out of my fist. I wet my lips and swallowed the excess spit while the final battle of conscience raged within me.  Don’t do it!  Back out!  It’s not too late.  But it was. I glanced out of the corner of my eyes in Hunter’s direction and he was watching me. How do you back away from being on your knees holding a big stiff cock in your fist? How do you erase that vision from your son’s mind and make it right? 

     It was too late. I leaned down and took Kevin’s cock in my mouth and instinctively slurped up his precum.

    “Ohhhhhhhh,” he moaned softly, laying a hand on my head.

    “Holy fuck!” I heard Hunter say.

    I began sucking the young repairman with no thought of any consequences.  After a few minutes, as the lust rose, the panic subsided and I stopped worrying about what Hunter thought of me.  I wondered, but I didn’t worry about it.  I loved what I was doing; I was in my element, and it felt good for him to finally know the truth. 

    I felt Colton groping for my cock and I moved my left leg to give him access.  He stroked me and fondled my balls then he took my hand and pulled it over to Hunter’s balls.  I resisted for a second but then let him press my hand against my son’s balls.  He let go and I cupped them gently and felt Hunter spread his legs a little wider. It was a wonderful feeling and I wondered how my hand felt to Hunter.

    “Fuck, man, he is good!” Kevin murmured.

    And moments passed. Till Colton lifted his head and looked over at me. 

    “Do you want to trade off; me do you, you do him?” he asked.

    I froze inside and paused midstroke down Kevin’s cock.  I held him there, his cock throbbing for attention then I looked over at Colton.  He was smiling–it was almost an evil smile as he stroked Hunter’s cock.  My eyes fixed on his hand around the thick tower of meat.  God, I thought, he’s even bigger than Kevin. My hesitation was my downfall; the decision was made for me.. Colton was getting up from his knees!  Oh, Godd, he’s going to make me……it’s going to happen!  He let go of Hunter’s cock and it fell heavily onto his stomach then bobbed up at a sharp angle, throbbing violently.

     My gaze was fixed on the beautiful hunk of meat and I swallowed hard to clear my throat.  I was afraid to look up at Hunter but I finally did.  He was looking right at me, still a little bleary eyed from the beer, but it was a frightfully steady gaze. And one I couldn’t read. Hopefulness? Doubt? Curiosity?  Or was there disappointment there? I couldn’t tell. I rose up to move over and take Colton’s place between my son’s legs.  A cloud of disbelief swept over me. Merely touching him–rubbing my hands across his muscular thighs–excited me beyond description, and I felt dizzy, in a fog. 

    “He had me really close,” Hunter said huskily.

    He sounded as if he were warning me. His words and his tone gave me comfort and courage. They told me he was okay with this.  I watched Colton lean over Kevin and lick his cock. 

    “I thought you were going to do him–his Dad,” Kevin said.

    “I thought I would leave that up to you,” Colton told him as he stroked his cock.

    Kevin laughed. “Fuck, man, I’m straight.”

    Colton laughed.  “Putting your mouth on a cock isn’t going to change that. It’s only sex. You’ll be just as straight when you walk out the door,” he said.

    I turned my attention back to Hunter and in that moment he was more than my son. He was a magnificent god-like male, made more so because he was my son. I leaned in and nuzzled my face in his crotch, drinking the clean aroma as I kissed and licked his balls.  I heard the soft gush of a moan which grew louder as I sucked one of his balls into my mouth and mauled it gently with my tongue.

    “Ohm, yeeaaahhh!” he whispered and I felt his hand on my head.

    I spent a moment on his balls then kissed up to the hard root of his cock.  It swelled and bucked against my chin. I started to reach for it but changed my mind and moved back down to his balls.  I lifted them up and kissed beneath them. Lashing my tongue back and forth, I found the separation of his solid butt muscles.

    “Ohh, yeah, like that, like he did,” Hunter moaned.

    His words spurred me on, to do what Colton had apparently done for him.  Anything he wanted. I licked up and down the crack of his ass and was pleased and encouraged when he slowly lifted his legs and brought them up to his chest.  I wanted to weep from the beautiful sight before me; my son’s incredible butt spread apart, totally exposed, inviting me.  In the dim light I could see his beautiful asshole clenching anxiously.  I paused in my gaze too long and he started to let his legs back down.

    “It’s okay if you don’t want to……”

    I quickly put my hands on the back of his thighs to press his legs back to his chest. Godd yes, I wanted to! He was anxious so I didn’t spend any more time admiring his ass.  I followed my nose and when it touched his slightly hairy hole I pressed my face against his taut butt muscles. He moaned and squeezed them against my face then quickly relaxed them. I moved my closed lips against his clenching hole, undulating them in a kiss. I heard him moan with anticipation.  Gradually, I pushed my tongue through my lips till I found his hole then I opened my mouth wide to form a lip lock over his ass, and began licking like a puppy in warm milk.

    “OOOohhhhhh,” he moaned softly.

    He was relaxed and despite the constant clenching I was able to enter the tip of my tongue into his hole and it drew me in deeper with each relaxing and tightening of the muscle.  I felt myself tear up as I rimmed my son’s ass. What had I done to deserve such an earthly reward as this, that we could actually be drawn together in such intimacy? 

    He was liking what I was doing and I clasped my hand on his butt muscles and pulled them apart.

    “Awwwh, yeeaaahhh,” he groaned as I dug my fingers into the pliable muscle surrounding his asshole to stretch his hole wide open. “Oh, fuck!  Fuck!” he cried out as I drove my tongue deep inside him. “Oh, My Godd!”

    I went wild, fluttering my tongue all around, and it drove him wild.  At one point he whimpered, “Oh Shit, Dad, slow down, you’re gonna make me cum!”

    Yes, I thought, I’m going to do that.  The thrill of hearing him say Dad was almost overwhelming, and I wondered if he felt the impact of it as I did, or if he even realized he’d said it.

    I didn’t let up.  I kept my face buried in his ass till I thought he might scream, then I began licking up from there, lashing my tongue across the couple of inches of sensitivity just under his balls.  His balls draped heavily over my face.  All the while I kept rubbing his asshole gently with my fingertips.  I sucked his balls one at a time, eyeing the tower of man flesh looming just ahead.  I had to raise up a little to lick and kiss the underside of his throbbing cock.  When I got to the end I lashed around the underside of the head, causing it to bob up and down and quiver violently.  As I took it in my hand and brought it upright I caught a glimpse of him looking down at me.  It sent chills through me and I wondered what was going on in his handsome head.

    I have wondered what the anticipation might have been like for him, watching his own Dad’s face descending toward his cock.  His eyelids fluttered and he closed his eyes just as I took the head of his cock in my mouth. And oddly, he never made a sound, but I saw his stomach muscles tighten and dance; he was choking down silent sobs.

    I used my tongue at first, lapping up the delicious precum, but then slowly devoured his cock.  I went all the way down, forcing the thick, warm meat deep in my throat.  I was uncomfortable with his size and the angle, but I would do it no matter what. It was an ultimate thrill to have my face buried in his pubes, his huge cock throbbing and bucking inside my neck.

    “My Godd!” he gasped softly.  “I don’t believe this is happening.”

    I didn’t either, but it was.  I was glad he was having the same emotions.  My fingers were still titillating his asshole, rather absently on their own.  I should have stopped because they had the ultimate, desired effect too soon.  I had begun to suck him, barely twenty strokes or so when I felt his hand come to rest gently on my head.

    “Dad….I’m gonna cum,” he announced in a tremoring whisper.

    His voice, the words it formed, made shivers go down my spine, and I was so happy to feel his hand on my head when he spoke them.  He was making it clear he wanted to cum in my mouth.

    No stranger to sucking cock and being the willing receptacle of so many billions of the life giving seed, I was still overwhelmed to feel the powerful surge up through his cock then the incredible pulsations of warm, thick semen spurting into my mouth. I was taken aback by his power and the volume that erupted from his belching cock.  The first two or three surprised me, the rest astounded me….the next five or six or seven, I lost count in my delirium.  The volume of man meat in my mouth left little room for such a voluminous load of cum and I found my mouth fuller than any other time in recent memory.  I had to swallow. I wanted to, but I also wanted to savor it.  I held him there, lashing my tongue around through the warm, thick man-seed, swirling the stuff around the head of his cock, till I felt him press something against my arm.  His T-shirt; he was giving it to me to spit in.  How could he think that I would waste such precious nectar?  I didn’t take it of course; I pushed his hand away and he drew it back, and I began gulping down his load.  It was another mind blowing moment as I was able to comprehend that I was in a way swallowing my own seed through my son.

    When I had sucked him dry I swallowed his cock again and held it lovingly in my throat for a long moment.  He squirmed a little, I felt his butt muscles tighten several times, and I lifted my head.  His cock fell heavily across his hip.  I kept my face there, kissing it.  When he squirmed again, I rose up, got to my feet and stumbled back to lean against the dresser. Hunter shoved himself up from the bed and went into the bathroom.  I glanced down at Colton and Kevin; I’d forgotten all about them right beside us.

    “Fuck, that was the hottest thing I ever saw,” Kevin said.

    I was staring at the bathroom, the door slightly ajar. I felt a twinge of nausea, not from what I had done, but from the sheer volume of the cum I’d swallowed. And I didn’t know what Hunter was thinking at that moment. Finally I decided to go in.  I slipped through the door and closed it behind me and leaned back against it.  He glanced at me in the mirror where he was hunched over the sink, his hand gripping the sides.

    “Are you…..all right?” I managed to ask.

    He glanced away from me, nodding.  I wasn’t satisfied with that.

    Tell me you are,” I said.

    “I’m all right.” He glanced back around at me. “Very all right,” he said with a tight smile.  “Godd, Dad…….”

    “Yes.  What?”

    “I never expected anything like that.” Then he asked, “Are you ready to go?”

    “Yes, if you are,” I replied.

    “Yeah, I think I am.” He leaned down and splashed water on his face and buried his face in the towel that I quickly handed him. When he was done drying his face he motioned toward the door.  We went back into the bedroom where Kevin was blowing his load in Colton’s mouth.  Hunter stood and watched, and I with him, till Kevin was finished and had relaxed back in the bed.  He looked up and saw us standing there and reached up a muscular arm to high five Hunter.  They high-fived and Hunter headed for the door.  I followed him.  The looks we got when we walked out were priceless. Looks and knowing smiles.

    Hunter went through the kitchen to retrieve his clothes that had been hung up while I searched for mine.

    “My Godd!….You did!” someone said.

    I glanced up to see who had said it, and smiled a little.

    “Oh, Godd, you did!”

    “Ohh, that is so hot!”

    “Huge congratulations!”

    “You’re not leaving!”

    “Please don’t leave. Please don’t take that gorgeous hunk away from us.”

    I smiled and laughed and got dressed.  Hunter came into the living room as I was pulling my shirt on, looking magnificent in his uniform.  Breathlessly so.  He smiled and waved and told everyone goodbye and added that if he was missing anyone who wasn’t in the room, busy elsewhere, to tell them goodbye for him.  He thanked our host on the way out.

    “Thank you.  You were definitely the icing on the cake today.”  Then to me, “Bring him back anytime.”

    “I will.”

    Driving home we were quiet for the first couple of miles. It was getting uncomfortable; silent emotions filling the truck cab.  I was ashamed that Hunter was the one to break the silence.

    “Well, I hope I didn’t embarrass you, or disappoint you,” he said finally, without looking at me.

    “You didn’t embarrass or disappoint me,” I said. 

    “When I first realized what was going on, I was being cool at first, for you….’cause I didn’t want to embarrass you that I’d figured it out,” he said.

    “For the record, I was doing the same thing…..being cool, for you, and hoping you wouldn’t figure it out.  I guess we almost pulled it off, except we had too much to drink.”

    “Well,” he said.

    “I think down deep I wanted you to figure it out; maybe the reason I took you, cause I didn’t have the balls to tell you the truth about myself. Then Tim plied me with beer to bolster my courage; and I let him.  He said I was lying to you, said I needed to be truthful with you.”

    “I don’t consider it lying,” he said. 

    “But you didn’t know the real truth about your old man.”

    “Well, now I do.”

    “I’m afraid of how this might change things,” I said.

    “Well, it’s been an eye opener, to say the least. But you were my Dad before I knew you were gay.  Nothing can ever change that, or that I love you.”

    “I didn’t mean you finding out….I meant….what we did.”

     “For God’s sake, Dad, trust me to be your son,” he scoffed.

    Tears began to well up. I was so relieved that he was okay with it, but I had to wonder what the rest of his time home would be like. And I was afraid of how his attitude might change when he got back to being a Marine, lying in his bunk at night thinking about what we’d done.  

    I drove slow going home; I was dreading being in the house with him.  It was late when we left the gathering and I decided to take us out to eat, to delay the inevitable.  We lingered over supper, both doing our best to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. When we got home Hunter talked about going to see friends. I wondered if it was an excuse to be away from me.  I was half afraid he might cut his leave short.

    When I pulled in the driveway Hunter asked me if he could borrow the truck.

    “Of course, you don’t have to ask,” I said.

    “Thanks, I’ll see you later then.  I won’t be too late.”

    I laughed.  “You don’t have a curfew anymore.”

    I went to bed. It was early but I had a lot to think about. I showered, scrubbed myself, and even flushed out good; the reason, I wanted to wash out all traces of being fucked. It was the first time, really, that I felt regret over attending one of the gatherings.  I lay on the bed with the lamp turned on the lowest setting and gazed up at the ceiling fan.  I played games with it, trying to follow the fan blades with my eyes and count the revolutions. It was silly and I realized I was avoiding even thinking about what had happened.

    “I sucked my own son’s cock,” I said to myself, not out loud.  “I’ve got his sperm swimming around in my stomach.”  I still had the taste of him in my mouth.  I started to get up and go brush my teeth but decided against it.  I wanted the taste of him; it spurred my thoughts. What would this do to us?  How long would it be before he came home on leave again?  There was no compelling need to come home much, he had a life of his own as a Marine; he didn’t need me anymore.  I tried to block it out, what had happened, but it was too soon, the memory of it too fresh in my mind’s eye, and too wonderful.  I think I was trying to work up remorse but that wouldn’t come either. I tried to sleep, but to no avail.

    I dozed off enough that I didn’t hear Hunter come in.  I didn’t know he was home till I heard the floorboard on the top step creak, then he was standing in my doorway. He had been home for a while for he was in his briefs.  I quickly turned on my side, away from him, but he came in.  I felt his hand on my bare hip; the sheet had pulled down.

    “Turn over,” he said with an authority I’d never heard from him before; no doubt from his Marine training.

    I hesitated and he gripped my hip tighter and I turned back over onto my back.  My arm came across my chest.  He put his big hand over mine on my chest.

    “I can tell this is eating you up, Dad. Don’t let it. Trust me to be your son.  Please.”

    I started to pull my hand back but then left it under his. His big, strong, marine hand massaged mine roughly and I could feel his eyes on me, penetrating, even in the dim light.  

    “I love you so much…..I’m sorry I kept this from you for so long, when you had a right to know,” I said finally.

    “I had no right to know unless you wanted to tell me,” he said.

    “I’ve wanted to for so long.”

    “Why didn’t you?”

    “I couldn’t.  You were too young to handle it at first. I’m not sure how you’ll handle it now, once it really soaks in, when you get back to base and have time to think about it.  Just know that I love you, Son, more than anything in the world.”

    “I know that. And the feeling is mutual, now and always will be.  Like I said, you were my Dad before I knew; you’re still my Dad.”  Smiling, he set his knee in the mattress, then the other one, and then he was kneeling in bed beside me.  “You don’t know it, do you?  That you’re my hero.  The man I most respect and admire in the world.”

    I fought to keep from choking up. “You don’t need a hero, Son, least of all me” I said.  “Maybe when you were a little boy, but not anymore. You’re a Marine for chrissakes.”

    He had brought my hand up to squeeze it.  “Once a hero, always a hero,” he said and when he let go of my hand it fell against the front of is briefs.

    I didn’t pull away.  “Did you see your friends?” I asked hoarsely.

    “Yeah, for a little bit.  There wasn’t much to say.  It’s different somehow, now that I’m in the Marines.”

    “Yes, I suppose they wouldn’t know what to say to you, what to talk about.”

    We didn’t either.  It was small talk between us and we both knew it.  My hand was still resting lightly against the bulge of his shorts.  It was my move, but I was afraid to make it. 

    Suddenly Hunter leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead.  “I love you, Dad.”

    My hand fell away but in that instant I found my courage and reached boldly up between his legs to cup the weight of manhood. He stopped halfway from raising up and leaned over me with his hands on either side of my shoulders.

    “I meant to tell you, for my part it, was great, what we did,” he said.

    I squeezed his manhood and felt it coming to life.  “For my part, too,” I said. “But I’ve been terrified of what you might think afterwards.

    “I just told you,” he said.

    “Tell me, does don’t-ask-don’t-tell apply to father and son?” I asked.

    “It never came up.  But even if it did……..”  He reached down and took my hand in his and pushed it harder into the bulge of his shorts.

    I leaned up and kissed his chest.  I broke away finally, but continued kissing his muscular neck, and down his chest to the top of his abs. His stomach was tight as a drum.

    “Godd, Dad,” he whispered.

    When I lay my head back to look up at him his face hovered over mine. I could smell his mint-sweet breath. It was a crucial moment, not to be wasted, but I still couldn’t make the move.  I don’t think either of us did; it was more like a magnetic force that drew us together.  His face came down closer to mine and I think I leaned up, but our lips never touched.

    “Godd, Dad, what’s happening to us? I’ve never felt anything like this before in my life,” he whispered.

    “I’ve felt it for a long time,” I said.

    His words gave me courage and I leaned up the rest of the way to brush my lips against his.  Then it was he who drew his courage from me as he pressed his lips to mine.  It was a kiss like no other I’d ever experienced. I trembled inside as he ground his mouth hard against mine. Our tongues found each other and I felt a jolt of lust/passion go through me.   

    “Are we supposed to be doing this?” he asked softly.

    “I don’t know, you need to decide that for yourself.  But I was just about to ask you if you….never mind.”

    “No, what?”

    “It’s not a good idea,” I said.

    “You said I need to decide things for myself.  Let me,” he said.

    “I was going to ask if you want to take it to the next level.”

    “The next level…..I’m not sure what you mean.”

    “Fuck me,” I finished for him.  

    He hesitated before he replied.  “That’s….taking things over the top, wouldn’t you say?”

    “Is that your answer?” I asked.

    “No.  No, it isn’t,” he said, and paused again.  “Yes. My answer is yes,” he said as he was moving between my legs.

    He shoved the front of his shorts down and his cock swung up in a heavy arch. By the time I drew my legs up it was pointing to my ass.  He drooled some spit in the crack of my ass.

    “Wait.”  I twisted over and got a small bottle of lube out of the top drawer of the night stand.  “Use this,” I said, uncapping the bottle and handing it to him.

    It shouldn’t have surprised him that I was so prepared but he seemed so.  He drizzled some lube in the crack of my ass, and some on his cock then capped the bottle and tossed it side.  His head was down, his focus on his cock and where it would meet my ass.

    “Are you sure about this?” he asked as he rubbed the head of his cock over my hole.

    “I’ve wanted this for so long….I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

    “I meant my size.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

    “It’s nothing to worry about.  Have you ever had sex with another man before today?” I asked.

    “Only a couple lf blowjobs in the barracks, but I never considered that sex. It was more a matter of relief.”

    He was pushing against my hole, testing.

    “Don’t be afraid to push.”

    With his cock set firmly on target he clasped his hands around the back of my thighs and put more pressure behind his cock. Suddenly he pushed through.

    It was more than I expected in the way of pain and I couldn’t help the gush of surprise and the wince when he entered me.

    “Sorry.  I can stop any time you say,” he said in a hoarse voice.

    I shook my head. “Don’t stop.  I want you all the way in me,” I managed.

    “Are sure you want…..”  Before he could finish I humped my butt at him and took him all the way. “AAwwhh!  Ohh, Fuck!” he cried out, closing his eyes tightly.

    “I’m sure,” I said as I pressed my ass hard against his loins. His cock throbbed deep inside me and I could even feel his heartbeat in his cock.

    I think the moment of being still was for Hunter to grasp what was happening; that he had his cock buried inside his dad’s ass, and the physical feeling must have been a shock to his system as well.

    “Holy shit, Dad,” he said as he opened his eyes with a weak smile.  “When you said fuck you, you weren’t kidding.”

    I smiled back and leaned up to kiss his left bicep.  He eased his hips back and his cock withdrew back through my insides with much more pleasure than going in.  When my asshole was clenching frantically around the rim of his cockhead he reversed and pushed back in.

    “Ohh, Godd, it’s not a dream after all,” he said as he filled me up again. 

    “It is, a very real dream come true,” I said.

    He began fucking me, slowly, yet with determined thrusts. The pain faded and I felt my asshole adjusting around the girth of his cock, and my insides parting to accommodate his size.  The slickness increased, as if the warming of the lube turned it into a fine, silicone glaze that coated his man meat.

    “This is not happening,” he said.

    I laughed softly.  “Tell my ass that.”

    “You are incredible, Dad,” he said.

    “I’m lying under incredible,” I said.

    He leaned down to kiss me again.  “I love you so much.”

    “I can tell,” I said with a smile.

    He gave me a few more gentle thrusts.

    “Can I cum in you?  I pride myself in my staying power but I’m afraid this isn’t going to take long.”

    “Yes, put your seed back inside me,” I told him.

    “That’s a wonderful way of putting it, giving you back the seed that made me in the first place.”

    “You don’t have to be so gentle either. You’re dying to let loose.”

    “Can I?”

    “Give me everything you’ve got.”

    It might have been different, more like making love, but it wasn’t about that.  It didn’t need to be; we both knew our love for each other and whatever came of this raw man sex between dad and son would manifest that love no matter what. 

    “Oh, Dad,” he whispered as he began fucking me, now with a new passion that made his eyes dance with the harder thrusts of his cock.

    “Ohhhh…..Ohhhh…..Ohhh, fuck, Son!” I moaned under the wonderful onslaught. 

    “I guess that means it’s okay.”

    “If you only knew…..ohhhh, yeah…..like that….hard as you want.  Drill me a new asshole.  Awwwhh….Awww, fuck me…..fuck me hard…..UUUhhnnnn……!”

    “If you keep talking like that, you’re going to make me go off quicker.”

    I didn’t talk anymore but I couldn’t help the gasping moans and whimpers of pleasure he elicited with his thrusting cock. He was pounding me now, like a pile driver going through wet sand.  His concern about going off too quickly became mine.  I gripped and clung to his massive arms as I tried to give back as good as I was getting, but his youthful energy and power far overpowered mine and I was turned into a mass of trembling muscle being willingly used for his pleasure.

    He was soon helpless but to succumb to the buildup of his own pleasure, and I welcomed it’s coming, for my breath was coming hard. I knew it before he announced that he was cumming. His cock telegraphed it before he put it into words, but the sound of his voice, so edged in lust and passion, made me shiver with excitement.

    “Dad…..I’m cumming, Dad!”

    You cannot know or even imagine the mind altering impact of those words if you have never heard them uttered to you.  I think I was off in a state of limbo of lust when I heard them so perhaps I didn’t feel the full impact of them myself.  But in the next moments my son drove home their fullest meaning with his physical being. He didn’t just cum. His powerful body, his awesome cock, his very physical being itself fairly exploded with his cock. I imagined it was like a new star being born, there was so much raw lust and passion.

    His cock bolted hard inside me and I felt my insides being scalded with his spurting cum. It bathed me and filled me and salved the nerve endings made raw by the incessant thrusting and pounding. I soon felt it gushing gently out of my asshole as he continued to make the final delivery thrusts.  I think even before he was completely finished, a pleasurable weakness overtook him and he collapsed easily on top of me.

    I welcomed his muscular weight pressing against me.  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and lifted my aching legs to wrap them around his lean hips.  His cock continued to throb inside me.  His nipples, taut from the excitement of sex, burned into my chest and his tight abs rippled and danced against me. His slightly whiskered face nestled in the crook of my neck, bathing me with his sweet, hot breath.

    “Holy shit!…..I’m sorry,” he gasped.

    “Sorry…..for what?”

    “I should’ve lasted longer than that.”

    “If you had, neither of us would live to tell about it,” I said.

    It was a long time before he lifted his head.  “Dad, you know from experience, being in the Marines, I’ve had more sex than most guys.  But I’ve never, ever experienced anything like this.”

    “And you know why,” I said, rubbing his massive shoulders.

    “Yes…..”  He seemed about to go on and say why, but he didn’t. Neither did I.  It didn’t have to be said.  We both knew it was because what we had just experienced was undeniably the ultimate expression of the love between a father and son.

    “I’m getting heavy,” he said as his muscles tightened to push up.

    “You’re not.  Stay like this,” I said.

    He eased his weight back down on me and I kept my grip on him with my arms and legs.

    “Why in God’s name is this forbidden?” he asked in a hoarse, emotion filled voice.

    “I’m not all that sure it is forbidden in God’s name,” I said. “It’s man’s own created society that thinks it’s better for a man to beat his son than to love him.”

    He pushed up then at arm’s length and looked down at me.  “You know I’ve always loved you, Dad.  But I never truly understood how much, how deep that love goes, till now.”

    I nodded, tight lipped, unable to speak.

    “I know,” he said quietly.  Then he smiled.  “I also know, if we stay like this you’re going to get fucked again.”

    “You notice I’m not moving,” I said.

    He laughed, his stomach rippling as he gave me a nudge with his hips and I felt his cock hard again inside me.  “Are you up for it again, really?”

    I nodded again.  And he fucked me again.

    Lying there beside him in the afterglow, I was no longer worried about the aftermath of our sexual encounters. Hunter was okay. The weight of his muscular body felt good across my chest, and the bulk of his manhood pressed against my thigh.  Hunter would always be okay. He knew now the full meaning of a father’s love for his son, and he had experienced giving back that love in kind; something that most boys–sons–would never know was even inside them. And I was more okay than I’d ever been in my life. 

    When the phone rang he asked if we should let it go.  I told him no, to answer it.  He reached back and picked up the phone and handed it to me.

    “Hello.”

    “Hello, is this Mr. Gordon? Hunter’s dad?”

    “Yes.”

    “This is Kevin….from the, uh….party…..the gathering. Would Hunter happen to be there?”

    “He’s right here,” I said, handing the phone back to Hunter.

    “Yeah….Yeah, hi, Kevin…..sure, why not………sure, that’d be great, I’ll answer what I can.  Call me with a time.”

    He reached across and hung up the phone, smiling.

    “A time?” I asked.

    “He wants to get together.”

    “For a beer, no doubt.”

    “He wants to talk about the Marines.”

    I smiled.  “Yeah, right,” I scoffed.  “He wants to talk about this Marine. 

    “Well, maybe, I don’t know.  But it won’t hurt to meet with him.”

    “Just realize, Hunter, this could be the clash of the titans. You’re both straight. He’s going to expect you to do what you expect him to do.”

    “Well, it could be a bust, then,” he said. “But…..”  He paused and smiled.  “What if I, uh….invited him here, like overnight?  I mean, he knows about you….us…..”

    “I don’t know if I can handle both of you.”

    “But you’re gonna try.”

    “I’m gonna try.” 

    The 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.


  • The Quarterback

    Oliver set down the pan he was holding on the stove, slowly giving Conrad a one-over. “You’re looking very. . . naked,” he observed.

    Conrad, weak at the knees suddenly, put his hand on his stomach. “Oliver, what? What are you doing—“

    “I live here,” Oliver said quietly. “Marcus and I are roommates.”

    Conrad moved his hand up to his chest, finishing up catching his breath. “Where is he?”

    Oliver shrugged, looking down at the eggs in his pan.

    Watching Oliver closely, Conrad regained weight in his legs and stood up straight. “It’s been so long, Oliver, don’t you have anything you want to say?”

    “You look different,” Oliver said. “Not just. . . naked I mean. You look different. It looks good.”

    Conrad’s heart, while leaping in hopefulness at the compliment, was at the same time disappointed. Of course he looked different after all this time; Oliver looked different, too. The way his hair was now was different. His hair was shorter at the sides rather than full-grown on every single side and his eyebrows were plucked thinly at the ends, blurring the line between a soft expression and an angry one. His skin, like Conrad’s was glowing and flawless since the last time Conrad had seen him. His frame was wider, allowing more hard muscle to build down his body and his biceps had thickened. Besides that he was a few inches taller, but Conrad had grown as well.

    “That’s it?” Conrad asked.

    “Of course not; there’s so much I want to say to you but I don’t think here is the appropriate place to say it,” Oliver quipped. “Do you want some eggs?”

    Conrad shook his head, and then silently watched as Oliver spread to the eggs onto two plates. “I shook my head—“

    “I saw.”

    Just then, a dirty-blond man not too much older than the two of them passed Conrad from behind, rounding the counter into the kitchen and pushing his arms around Oliver’s neck. His hair was a little bit curly but mostly wavy and his olive skin was tanned. His eyes were a light grey, and his lips were nicely proportionate. His bottom half was covered in a towel, but his top half was impressively muscular. His biceps flexed over shoulders and his bulbous pecs stretched up as he lifted his arms. Additionally, he was impressively groomed, with short golden-brown hairs spreading themselves over his washboard and across his chest, gathering in groups under his arms. He looked like an angel.

    Conrad watched, his heart deflating at an alarming rate, as the two made googley eyes at each other for a few seconds before the new mystery man turned his attention to his audience. He gave Conrad a one-over just as Oliver had, pausing surprisedly at Conrad’s junk, and then squinting at his face. Conrad looked slightly offendedly at the new guy analyzing his body so critically, then at Oliver. Oliver gave him an innocent look.

    “Who’s this, Ollie?” He asked.

    “This is Conrad,” Oliver introduced, “Conrad, this is Adrian”

    Adrian smiled and waved, showing off pearly white teeth. “Nice to meet you,” Conrad continued looking at Oliver, almost in disbelief. Adrian pulled back his arms, and headed into the fridge. “You guys know each other or somethin’?”

    Oliver murmured, “We went to high school together.”

    “Oh, no way,” he said with an impressed tone. “And neither of you knew the other was gay?”

    Conrad stiffened. “I’m not gay,” he lied. Oliver looked at him angrily.

    “That you both liked boys then,” Adrian corrected, looking up at Conrad apologetically before turning back to the fridge.

    Conrad shook his head, “I don’t-” Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

    “Dude, there’s dried cum all over your face and someone was being loud as hell last night. You gay, or what?”

    Conrad’s light brown skin turned red with embarrassment. “I’m gonna shower.”

    With that he turned and started back towards the hallway, his head swimming. Oliver’s boyfriend was incredible looking, which combined with his nudity and humiliatingly unconvincing lies, was making him more than fairly insecure. He stopped before he got to the hall and sighed.

    “Which one’s the bathroom?” he called.

    The soft murmurs stopped and the sound of footsteps ensued, Adrian turning the corner. “It’s a Jack and Jill, so it’s between Marcus’ and Ollie’s room.” he explained. “Here,” he pulled off his towel, revealing three inches of limp cock and two hefty balls under it. “I didn’t use my towel, so you can have this one.”

    Conrad couldn’t help but stare down at Adrian’s manhood and despite his own dick, which was notably larger than Adrian’s flaccid, didn’t say anything.

    “Don’t be so modest,” Adrian said, obviously picking up on Conrad’s insecurity. “You’re totally fuckin’ hung, dude.”

    With that he turned and started back to the kitchen. Conrad got a good look at his ass as he walked away, and he licked his lips. Adrian had an impressive muscle butt, which moved beautifully side to side as he walked. Conrad didn’t know what to feel. Adrian seemed like an open, nice, guy. Although his body wasn’t as impressive as Conrad’s, it was still impressive, and it made Conrad really insecure for some reason.

    – – –

    After Conrad had cleaned himself, he slipped on his short shorts that he had on the night from the gym and his drop-armhole tank. From the sound of laughing in the other room, Conrad guessed that Marcus had returned. He made his way into the dining area, where all three men he’d spoken with within the last twelve hours were gathered. At the sight of him, Marcus got up and put his hand on Conrad’s back, landing a kiss on his cheek. In a rush of thought Conrad accepted the kiss gratefully, gazing down at Oliver in search of a response.

    “I brought coffee. I didn’t think you’d be up so early. I don’t know.” Marcus said, trying to justify his earlier absence.

    Conrad laughed a little, turning his attention to Marcus. “It’s okay. It’s only, like, ten thirty.”

    Marcus chuckled rather nervously and pursed his lips. “Oliver offered to drive you to your car. I hate to cut this short, but I need to head off to work and I didn’t want to leave you without a goodbye—“ he turned a little bit pink as he said the last part.

    “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Conrad smiled at Marcus, who beamed back. Conrad then turned to Oliver, “Is now okay?”

    Oliver nodded. “Of course.”

    “Alright, do you mind if I meet you down there?”

    Oliver shook his head and started out immediately, Marcus and Conrad following closely behind. Fortunately, Marcus brought Conrad’s gym bag in, and Conrad took it up onto his arm. While Oliver went down to the parking lot, Conrad stood outside the door with Marcus. Marcus looked at his feet like a nervous kid.

    “So, is this it?” Conrad asked.

    “I don’t know. I mean, I really enjoyed last night a lot.” He bit his lip and looked up at Conrad. “I’d really like to see you again.”

    “How about tomorrow night? Dinner?” Conrad offered.

    “Dinner sounds good. Here, give me your phone,” Marcus demanded. He put his information into it and handed it back. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

    Conrad leaned over to Marcus, pushing his lips against Marcus’ and swirling their tongues together. In response, Marcus pulled Conrad closer, and held his waist. They kissed for a fifteen or so seconds before Conrad thought of Oliver waiting and pulled away. The two said their goodbyes, and Conrad made his way down to the parking lot, where Oliver was waiting in his car. Conrad let himself in on the passenger side and uncomfortably scooted around. The car ride was mostly quiet until finally Oliver pulled into a parking spot at the gym next to Conrad’s car.

    “Well, thanks.” Conrad uttered, before beginning to open the door. Oliver quickly stopped him.

    “Wait. We need to talk.”

    “Right now?” Conrad whined.

    “Yes. I have some things I need to say,” Oliver hissed. Then his tone softened. “I owe you an apology. I ended things badly. I don’t want to blame you for anything. I want us to be friends. I miss you, and it wasn’t fair how I dismissed you that day, especially without hearing you out like I did.”

    Conrad didn’t like to thing about that day. For the last few years he’d kept himself busy with nothing but sex with strangers mainly to not think about that day. He blamed himself for all of it, and even though Oliver was trying to justify what he’d done now he still couldn’t forgive himself. On the other hand, as unbelievable and partially traumatizing that day had been for Conrad, he really did want Oliver to believe him.

    “I ended things unfairly. Things with my dad got bad in college, and he and my mom split up because of it. Because of me.” Oliver whispered. He was tearing up a little bit.

    He went on to tell the story of how his mom divorced his dad after catching him with a man. While this didn’t shock Conrad very much, especially after his personal experience with Oliver’s dad, what Oliver said next made him feel terrible. One of his partners in college had been similarly coerced by Ned in the way that Conrad had, and only felt comfortable enough to say anything after Oliver’s parents had split up. The following months for Oliver were ones he spent with his mom, during which time he realized his mistake with Conrad.

    “Conrad I don’t want you to blame yourself for what my dad did. You were a teenager at the time and it must’ve been intimidating for your boyfriend’s dad to trap you like that. I just don’t want you to blame yourself for our breakup.” Oliver reached over and took Conrad’s hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

    Conrad’s face got steely like it used to when he was in high school. “I’m still sorry. It shouldn’t have been as much of an option for me as it was. I’m not going to say it wasn’t partially my fault, because it was. It was so dirty and terrible, and I’m sorry. And-“ he paused and didn’t finish. He just looked at Oliver.

    Oliver wiped away tears from his face on his sleeve and smiled. “I just hope we can still be friends, okay? I miss you so much. Maybe we can go running together sometime?”

    Conrad rubbed his thumb over Oliver’s hand. “I’d like that.”

    “Okay, get out, it’s getting steamy in here.” Oliver said, breaking the tension.

    – – –

    The few lights that were lit around Conrad’s apartment were dimmed; he wanted to set a nice mood for Marcus when he arrived. Before setting the mood he’d cleaned up by pushing his hair a little bit back and putting on a dress shirt and nice leather shoes. He’d also washed his ass, but that wasn’t something he could show off in a classy way. Conrad hadn’t felt this ready for a date in years, and he was excited to get back out there. Not long after the designated time for Marcus to arrive, there was a knock on the door. When Conrad reached the door, he looked down at himself, making a few last minute adjustments like opening another button on his shirt and readjusting a few locks of hair. With another breath, he opened his front door to Marcus— and company.

    “Hey!” Adrian extolled from behind Marcus. He raised a small dish. “We brought lasagna!”

    Adrian proceeded to enter the apartment, pulling Oliver in with him. Marcus stepped in behind them, shrugging apologetically to Conrad and then holding up a bottle of wine. Conrad raised his eyebrows at Marcus and leaned in for an embrace. Marcus kissed him on the cheek and held his free hand on Conrad’s back in an act of comforting.

    “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, they last-minute invited themselves.” Marcus muttered.

    “It’s fine.” Conrad said.

    While Adrian and Oliver took to the dining room together, Conrad pulled Oliver into the kitchen for more dinner preparations. Since Oliver and his boyfriend had obviously covered the main dish, Conrad pulled out the ingredients for a good salad that his mother used to make for him. Marcus listened intently to Conrad as he diced up various vegetables and told Marcus his coming out story. For the night’s sake, Conrad left out Oliver’s name. But he included everything: the secret hookups in the bathrooms and out behind the sports fields, Madison’s terrible blackmailing, and Tyler’s wicked attempts at cutting Conrad down for his sexuality. He was in the middle of telling his tale of Madison’s intrusion of the men’s room when Oliver walked in searching for more wine.

    “What’re you boys up to in here?” Oliver asked, pouring himself and Adrian more wine. Then he poured some for Marcus and Conrad.

    “Conrad’s telling me his coming out story,” Marcus informed.

    Oliver raised his eyebrows, glancing at Conrad. “Oh really?”

    Conrad stopped cutting to take a sip of his wine and nodded. “Yep. It’s a bit of a crazy story.”

    Eyebrows still raised, Oliver turned around and started to take his leave. “Maybe you can tell it to me sometime.”

    Shaking his head, Conrad went back to his story and cutting up the lettuce. Once they’d prepared the salad, Marcus and him set the table for four, setting up the plates for eating. When everything was organized, everyone sat down together. It wasn’t a very large table, but they all fit. Oliver sat across from Conrad, and Adrian countered Marcus. They all ate and discussed the LGBTQ+ community in their town, until Marcus briefly brought up the drama of Conrad’s coming out story. At that, Adrian brought up Oliver’s.

    “Ollie, why don’t you tell Conrad how you were outed?”

    Oliver and Conrad simultaneously. Oliver choked out, “I told this guy I liked him and he sort of panicked and outed me I think.”

    Adrian shook his head, “You’re so strong for that. That guy’s a dick. He was probably really insecure about his own sexuality.”

    Conrad coughed on a piece of lasagna and set down his fork. “Everyone else done, too? Great, I’ll grab your guys’ plates.”

    Oliver stood up as well. “Here, I’ll help.”

    They met up in the kitchen, where Oliver started washing the dishes for Conrad. By now they were all on a third bottle of wine, and Conrad was pouring himself another glass. Oliver intently washed the dishes, quietly thinking up something to say. Finally, it was Conrad who spoke.

    “Oliver, I don’t know what kind of things you keep from Adrian, but now this is something I have to keep a secret too. From Marcus.”

    “I know, I’m really really sorry, but he’d get really insecure about us being friends if he knew.”

    Him? Insecure?” Conrad asked disbelievingly. Oliver laughed. “Seriously, Ollie—“

    “Ollie?” Oliver set the last of the plate into the dishwasher then looked at Conrad. He held out his wine glass.

    Conrad poured him another glass. Oliver put his glass to his lips, barely smiling. Conrad drank with him, and they took the bottle back into the dining room. At this point Adrian was heavily slurring his words together from all the wine. Marcus listened patiently, laughing every now and then at Adrian’s sobriety failure. It seemed like this was the point for Adrian to take a break, and his making an effort to stand up marked the end of dinner. Oliver couldn’t help but also giggle at his boyfriend’s clumsiness. Marcus, while entertained, worried that the two wouldn’t be able to take the car.

    “It’s okay they can just sleep here.” Conrad affirmed.

    “Are you sure?” both Marcus and Oliver asked simultaneously.

    Conrad graciously nodded, and showed them into his second bedroom. Oliver thanked him for the wine and hospitality and then shut the door as Adrian started stripping. Marcus tapped the door safely once it was shut and then turned to Conrad, biting his lip. Together they went into Conrad’s room. It was rather big and the whole thing was fairly symmetrical. All dark and metallic tones. Marcus sat down on the bed, looking around at his surroundings and unbuttoning his shirt. He’d kicked off his shoes when they went in and lined them up next to the door. He had his shirt off fairly quickly, leaving him in a tight black tank top, and he laid back on the duvet.

    “Tonight was awkward,” Conrad voiced aloud. He couldn’t shake the thought of himself outing Oliver in high school.

    “Yeah, I’m sorry. They just came along.” Marcus responded.

    Conrad paused, confused. Then he shook off his confusion. “Yeah, it was a bit unexpected.”

    “Otherwise I think the night went well,” Marcus said.

    Carefully, Conrad climbed up onto his bed and straddled Marcus’ stomach. Then he leaned down and kissed him softly. Marcus kissed him back equally as tenderly, reaching up and putting his hands around Conrad’s cheeks. It was passionate; Conrad hadn’t kissed someone passionately in a while, and it was something he missed. Kissing Marcus this tenderly felt good to him. Then he rolled off Marcus, sighing.

    “I had dessert planned.” Conrad groaned. Then he shot up on the bed. “Oh shit, I forgot to tell you something— hold on.” 

    Marcus watched as Conrad launched off the bed and headed through the door. He sat up on the bed, confused, then caught his attention on a small elephant-shaped book stopper on Conrad’s bookshelf. He stood up and walked over to it, examining it closely. It was such a beautiful room, and it made him wonder what Conrad even did for a living to afford all of it. Very quickly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Conrad’s voice by the door.

    “I uhh—“ Marcus turned at Conrad’s mellow tone. “Dessert?”

    Conrad stood in the doorway in front of Marcus in a pair of grey briefs painted in similarly-toned red leopard print, giving his underwear a popping texture. In his right hand was a long red can, which explained the small heart drawn onto Conrad’s left pectoral muscle in whipped cream. He was biting his lip, grinning a little bit. Marcus couldn’t help but grin in response, and he pulled off his belt quickly and dropped his pants, stepping out of them fast. He raised a row of his fingers and beckoned Conrad to advance, to which Conrad complied, closing the door quietly behind him.

    Once they’d met midway, Marcus immediately leaned down and pulled his tongue up over Conrad’s nipple, sweeping up whipped cream with him. When the tip of his tongue pulled away near Conrad’s neck, he looked down at the small smear in the middle of Conrad’s heart. Then he looked up at Conrad, who grinned proudly at Marcus, then opened his mouth. Marcus leaned over to Conrad’s tongue, sharing the sugary foam he had collected with his new lover. Conrad was smiling as he kissed Marcus, excited for the fun they are about to have. Marcus reached around Conrad’s body, spreading his fingers around his butt and lifting him up. Marcus turned and carried Conrad over to the bed and threw him onto it, quickly snatching the can out of Conrad’s hands.

    He watched Conrad on his back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Marcus carefully. His legs were spread slightly, showing off a prominent bulge in his undies. Marcus pushed himself forward onto the bed, resting at Conrad’s feet. Slowly, he reached forward and dropped a dot of whipped cream onto the middle of Conrad’s chest, between his pecs. He stooped down quickly to lap it up, and then the remaining bit that was still on Conrad’s chest. Next, he straddled Conrad’s stomach and pulled off his undershirt and black boxer briefs, which left him in only a air of long black socks. He sat his plump behind on Conrad’s lower abdomen and pushed Conrad back fully down onto the duvet, pushing his arms above his head, too.

    Pointing the can onto Conrad’s bicep, he sprayed more and didn’t stop until he’d made a ring around the bit of hair under his arm. Conrad turned his head to the side, shutting his eyes and biting his lip as Marcus slowly circled his armpit with his tongue, and licked up his bicep. After he’d done that, he sprayed a line down Conrad’s killer abs and scooted back until he was able to lean down to the bottom of his line which was at Conrad’s belly button. He dragged his tongue up there, stopping once in a while to form kisses on Conrad’s stomach. Conrad’s legs twitched in these instances. His stomach had always been an erogenous zone for him.

    Marcus reached down and slid his hand around the rounded bulge in the front of Conrad’s briefs, cupping it and tightening his grip. Conrad breathed in deeply when he did it, enjoying the feeling of all the different fibers of his underwear grinding almost microscopically against his manhood. His cock twitched, a sign that it would be at full attention fairly soon. He could feel the blood rushing in and his rod expanding to full size inside of his lingerie, flattening to the side of him and his hip. Marcus smiled and rubbed it longways through the fabric.

    “All mine. . .”

    He quickly grabbed the waistband of Conrad’s underwear and almost tore it off down his legs, flinging it onto the floor. The previously trapped meatsicle sprung up and laid down flat on Conrad’s stomach. This time instead of directly spraying the whipped cream, he directed it onto two fingers and rubbed it up Conrad’s balls to around midway on his cock. For a final touch, he dropped a dollop onto the head of Conrad’s dick.

    Starting at the balls, Marcus inhaled them both onto his tongue and into his lips. Conrad sighed at the warm wet feeling around his sack; Marcus swirled the flesh in his mouth, sucking gently at it. He put his hands on Conrad’s inner thighs, near the base of his erection, and slid his hands back and forth across them, providing extra sensation through Conrad’s legs. Conrad curled his toes, breathing heavily.

    Inch by inch, Marcus began to swirl his tongue up Conrad’s man meat, lifting it gently at the base with his fingers, and held it upright. His tongue stroked up the soft skin of it, and just before he got to the tip he enveloped the entire thing with his lips. He sucked hard once his lips were secure, and a whimper caught in Conrad’s throat. Further and further down Marcus went, pulling the entire piece of meat into his mouth. He bobbed up and down on Conrad’s cock, his saliva acting as an easy lube for his mouth. It wasn’t long before his throat began to open and he was deep throating Conrad’s impressively sized dick. 

    Only a few nights ago, Marcus could hardly make his way around Conrad’s tool and now he was literally making his way around it effortlessly. The flesh of his throat had encased the entire thing, and was malleable enough to not only take every inch of cock being pulled into it, but it was sturdy enough to handle it. Conrad was getting close, already, too. He laid still and gripped the duvet’s fibers, breathing heavily and whipping his head to and fro. Marcus only continued, not seeing Conrad’s tells of immense pleasure. He just continued sucking and swallowing the saltish taste of Conrad’s cock, mixed with the sweet taste of sugary cream-flavored saliva.

    Conrad came suddenly. It took Marcus by surprise, and as Conrad started pumping his hips in ecstasy, Marcus began to pull away out of total shock. Conrad seemed to have other plans, though, and gripped the back of Marcus’ hair, holding his cock in Marcus’ throat. Inside of his throat, Marcus could feel heat building upon itself. It was only until Conrad’s thrusting got less intense did Conrad ease up on the force, and Marcus was able to pull Little Conrad farther out of his throat into just the inside of his mouth, where he could the last few weak shots of cum.

    He smacked it between the roof of his mouth and his tongue. “Tastes better than whipped cream.” He said.

    Conrad laughed a little, allowing Marcus to come up and kiss him, sharing the bit of his own semen from his tongue with him. Marcus smiled, biting his bottom lip, and turned Conrad around, wrapped his arms around his stomach in a spooning position. He curved forward a little to accommodate for Conrad’s sizable ass, but his pelvis fit perfectly against it.

    Laughing again, Conrad wiggled his butt around Marcus’ semi-hard cock. “Warm.” he observed.

    “Just wait until we have a damn blanket.” Marcus joked, kicking up the throw blanket from their feet and covering the two with it.

    “You don’t wanna. . . handle that?”

    “Nah, I’m cool with cuddling against that cute little butt of yours.” Marcus yawned.

    “Okay, I’m pretty sure we talked about this. . .” Conrad said in a jokingly accusatory tone.

    “Lovely and plump,” Marcus corrected, nuzzling his face into the back of Conrad’s neck. “I mean it.”


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