Author: admin

  • Ollie’s Paradise

    Chapter 1: Never Alone

    My sleepy brain was just beginning to stumble its way toward consciousness when a memory from another life pushed its way through my early morning fog. A year and a few months ago, I was sitting in my Bronco outside a forlorn urology clinic that was located in an equally uninviting medical plaza. I was terrified, though I never would have admitted it at the time. The only truth I allowed myself to admit was that… I was alone.

    Now, after a whole year of living with Corey, I was once again waking up to another beautiful morning – in a life I could barely believe was mine. And… I was not alone. Like, pretty much ever anymore. My new world was beyond anything I could have imagined sitting alone in that parking lot. Even now, all this feels bigger than any of my wildest dreams.

    Okay, fine. I was maybe a bit too warm and smothered at the moment, but everything was still wonderful.

    I was snuggled between two gently rising and falling bellies, surrounded by the kind of comfort that only comes from unconditional love. I was in paradise. My wolf’s ripped, furry abs gently moved against my back with his every breath. And in front of me, Riley’s fuzzy little tummy was pressed against mine, marking his own sleepy rhythm.

    So… how did we all end up here?

    When we rescued our beautiful little lost pup a year ago, we fell for him instantly. And, we instantly got to experience the unconditional love that all parents realize they have – we were deeply, even helplessly, bonded with our new pup. But we also swore we’d be responsible puppy parents. Strict, yet loving. Supportive and caring, but firm.

    We promised ourselves that our sweet little silver-blond bodied, black-muzzled, wonder pup would be adored. But we also declared that he’d learn to respect our boundaries and be a good boy. Most importantly, we decided that he was absolutely not sleeping in our bed – I let a sleepy chuckle escape thinking about that one… So, we got him a top-of-the-line orthopedic puppy pad and placed it at the foot of our bed. We wanted him to know he was a treasured member of our pack. Just… with rules.

    And of course, also like all new parents, we had no idea how unprepared we were to raise a special soul like Riley. He wasn’t a rascal. He wasn’t manipulative. He wasn’t a misbehaved “bad boy.” He was simply – and absolutely – perfect. Even deeper… there was a softness, almost a vulnerability, about him that broke our hearts. As if he carried the weight of his cruel beginning forever in his eyes. It only made us love him all the more.

    Still. He wasn’t even close to what I’d call needy. He just… loved. Everyone he met. And he loved them deeply. Chris and Ted were welcomed into his new pack instantly, as were all of my college friends. But there was a special place in his furry heart for Officer Kevin and his wife Anna, who took us up on our pool party offer – for almost every weekend last summer – they quickly became our closest married friends.

    Our Riley never imposed himself on the people he adopted into his pack; he just made sure they knew how deeply he cherished them. So, pretty much every night in our home played out according to his fluffy-brained script: He respects that Corey and I get our “daddy time” when we first get in bed. He politely naps on the living room couch until we settle down. And only then will he finally agree to use the expensive bed we got for him. Well, at least until around 5:30 in the morning.

    It was as if our pup were a furry time-keeping miracle – I swear he’s more accurate than my Apple Watch – he knows I get up at 6:00 to start my day. He also understands that his other daddy gets to sleep in until 8:00. And even though Riley has his routine with Corey too, both of his routines start with me.

    As I was saying, at 5:30, he stealthily crawls onto my side of our bed – at least as subtly as a 50-pound pup can sneak – and then he sweetly cuddles with me for our final thirty minutes of slumber. Of course, I don’t get to be his big spoon the way Corey gets to be mine – that would be way too normal. Nope! My pup hugs me, belly to belly, with his beautiful black-furred muzzle firmly nestled into my left pit. He doesn’t try to wake me; he just wants to finish his slumber comforted by my scent and to be assured that the first face I see when I finally really wake up thirty minutes later, is his.

    Some days, I try my best to hide my awake-ness as long as I can – I’d so love to sleep in for even just a few more minutes – especially on weekends. It doesn’t matter, as soon as I stir the least little bit, he somehow knows the instant his alpha is awake and ready to start the day. Once that happens, it’s all full-frontal face kisses and thumping tail wags until I drag my naked butt out of bed. And of course, I always have to give his nose lots of kisses in return. It’s almost as if he refuses to let me get out of bed until he analyzes my breath and scent to make sure I’m good to go for the day.

    I’m a little proud to admit that our boy is as good as our family doctor. I caught a nasty cold right after Christmas, and our Riley wouldn’t let me out of bed for a whole week without whining for me to just stay still. Our boy really does care deeply for his pack mates.

    Thankfully, today felt perfectly normal for all of us. Well, with maybe a hint of something special in the mix. It was the day of my final test; marking the end of my first full year at TCU. Things hadn’t worked out quite the way I’d planned. Sure, the admissions board loved my introductory essay and they were equally impressed by my real-world experience, but I quickly realized how far behind I was after taking a spring – and an unexpected summer – off.

    I could’ve started a new co-op term after my first fall semester, but my advisors strongly recommended against it. They felt it was more important for me to catch up academically and to just settle into life at TCU. And that’s exactly what I did. That first fall I decided to get involved with TCU’s football program. I knew I was too out of practice to actually make the team, but I still managed to become part of the practice squad, and I quickly bonded with all my football brothers.

    It was during that fall when I first began to question whether I still wanted to be a software developer.

    I guess you can blame my nurse-fiancé Corey or maybe my doctor-dad Chris (and please don’t tell Ted yet), but something had shifted. With my continuing trainer role at LA Fitness, and my growing connection with the football team, I realized I felt most useful and happy when I was helping others through their workouts, or recovery, or – it’s hard to say, but even – their injuries. I just felt most at home being a caregiver. It didn’t happen overnight, but I eventually accepted what had been growing in my heart: I wanted to switch my major to some form of medicine.

    Today was my final computer science… well, final. If I passed, I’d have enough credits for a minor in IT; no matter what came next. But I already knew my path. My heart was pulling me toward a future in sports medicine. I just had to figure out how to break the news to Dad… Er, Ted.

    ****

    Riley excitedly leapt out of our bed just before me; his tail was wagging and his eyes were bright. As I sleepily tried to gain my balance, I expected him to immediately demand his rightful place between my legs – for his morning “puppy car wash.” Of course there was no actual water involved, just a celebration of kisses, fur-on-skin snuggles, and a symphony of belly rubs and ear scratches as we slowly stumbled our way toward our back door to greet the rising sun.

    Riley was confidently and shamelessly naked. I at least had managed to slip on a pair of tighty-whities.

    While he performed his morning abolitions, I took care of mine. Our friends like to joke that in every gay relationship; there’s one guy who pees outside and the other one who doesn’t. With Corey being my benevolent alpha wolf and all, you’d think he would be the backyard pee’r.

    But… Nope.

    That honor goes to me; much to Corey’s dismay. I just made sure to spread my “markings” around so I didn’t kill any bushes or grass. Our sweet Riley boy did the same. I swear.

    Next up on our early morning agenda: Riley’s breakfast snack and my sacred cup of sweet coffee. Over the course of a year, our morning routine had become nothing short of pure comfort. After his treats, Riley would pretend to be indifferent about our schedule while I sipped my coffee and scrolled through my socials; checking for anything urgent that came up overnight.

    Riley usually gave me a solid twenty minutes of peace and quiet… Any longer than that and the soft whines and nose-rooting would start. I could practically hear his puppy thoughts: “Dad! Dad! It’s getting hot! It’s time for our run. Please, let’s go now! Please?”

    And as always, I’d happily give in.

    I’d head back to our bedroom, trade my tighty-whities for a jock and a pair of running shorts, and gently sit down on our bed to quickly put my running shoes on. Also, as always… Er, make that – right on cue – our Riley would politely retrieve his leash from the table by the front door and drag it to me. His fluffy tail would always be wagging the whole way. Then he’d gently nudge my arm to put his walking collar on. And as soon as I would, we both understood that it was his Go Time.

    Because… The countdown began.

    I had exactly thirty seconds to start my Apple Watch’s jogging workout and make it out the front door. Or else our sweet “little” Riley would throw a full-blown puppy tantrum. Complete with pathetic whines, dramatic body flops, and full-blown, belly-up tummy exposures. Our dignified, well-mannered, young pup would lose all his composure in the most adorable meltdown imaginable.

    Luckily, we made it out of the house without waking Corey from his slumber this morning. And, as usual, the moment we hit our front sidewalk, we were met with Mrs. Miller across the street. She was dutifully watering her flower beds, right on schedule. Early morning watering was the price we all paid to have our flowers survive the Texas summer.

    “Good morning Riley and Ollie! My two favorite sweet boys! Have a fun run! And Ollie, you’re getting to be almost as furry as Riley!”

    Hearing her mildly embarrassing assessment of my chest hair nearly made me trip. Even worse, I couldn’t stifle the goofy grin that quickly spread across my face. All I could manage in response was an awkward, “Thank you, ma’am! I’m trying!”

    To be fair, Mrs. Miller wasn’t wrong. My little island of blond chest fur was finally starting to spread its way across my pecs. If I was lucky, one day soon it would merge with the tufts of blond fur under my arms and with my already established happy trail; just like Corey’s did. These days, my Corey was my benchmark. I’d finally stopped comparing myself to any old memories I had of my father.

    Trying to recover some sense of my alpha-dignity after my little stumble, I made a split-second decision to switch up our run. We crossed Berry Street and headed toward TCU’s football stadium and practice fields. It wasn’t our usual path, but Riley seemed to share my nervous energy this morning, like he knew something special was in the air.

    As soon as we made it to the fields, I unclipped his leash and let him bolt. I knew my pup and he knew my commands. With our shared trust, I smiled as he took off. Making joyful loops around me with his tail spinning like a rotor; happily burning off all the nervous energy for both of us.

    Oops, well… I guess he wasn’t exactly doing loops just around me.

    A fraternity’s soccer team was already practicing in the relative coolness of the early June morning. And of course, my sweet Riley had to go greet every single sweaty, shirtless boy he could find. Which he did – with gusto.

    To their credit, the guys were more than happy to greet him right back.

    I swear, I’ve made more friends through Riley’s antics than from any class, club, or social event. Life lesson: Just be a sweet, happy pup and the world is yours to make life-long friends with.

    ****

    After an absolutely wonderful, and needed, run, we were back at our front door just past 7:45. Both of us were breathing hard from the exertion and growing heat, but only one of us was sweaty and in desperate need of a shower.

    Still, keeping my pup’s happiness in mind, I decided to skip the shower and simply jump into our still-chilly pool with my boy.

    Except that Riley’s got way more fur than I do, and the ever-so-slightly-still-too-cold water didn’t seem to faze him at all. Me, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say I’m not nearly as shrinkage-resistant as my pup.

    All things considered, our early morning dip was perfect. Refreshing. Peaceful. And weirdly enough, I swear the chlorinated water does wonders for keeping my pits tamed. Which is a huge win, considering Corey’s ongoing mission to keep me a convert of the Church of No Deodorant.

    I try my best to honor his wishes. Because, well… Hey, I like it too.

    Even if it means offering up my armpits to the gods of chlorine and puppy splash fights.

    Chapter 2: The Real Alpha

    As I climbed out of the pool, I stripped out of my soaked running shorts, leaving me in nothing but my wet white jock. I started to dry off and looked up to see my beautiful, still very sleepy wolf making his early morning appearance in the doorway to our backyard.

    Riley noticed too and gave a quick, yet earnest, shake in an attempt to rid his coat of water before bounding over to greet his alpha’s alpha. My pup always seemed to know how to summon all the respect and reverence his young “little” fifty-pound frame could muster – all for his Corey. And Corey gave him his reward in return: a sincere nose kiss and a customary, “Eww! You’re wet!”

    I needed my alpha time as well. I crossed the deck, my jock clinging to my shrunken package, highlighting just how cold the pool really was. My Corey didn’t miss a beat. He pulled me in, rewarded me with a lingering kiss, and pressed his warm hand low against my nearly transparent jock – as if he were coaxing my testicles to return to their rightful place – um, outside of my body.

    “Hey, pup,” he teased, “looks like you two have already had quite the morning. So… who got to witness the Ollie and Riley show today?”

    “Well… Mrs. Miller, as usual. And then most of Phi Tau’s intramural soccer team. I’m pretty sure that after today, Riley’s their official mascot. He just can’t stop himself from being so cute and irresistible.”

    “Kinda just like you, pup.”

    Despite the heat rising in my cheeks, I managed to push back. “Hey, at least I didn’t immediately run up to everyone, sniff their crotch, and then flop over on my back for tummy rubs.”

    I locked eyes with Corey, letting a grin tug at my lips. “I mean, I wanted to. But, my wolf… I’d rather save all that for you.”

    And just like that, his mouth was on mine again, morning-breath and all, and I reveled in the sweetness of another kiss that belonged to us alone.

    Breaking our embrace, Corey gave me a slightly guilty look. “Ollie, my beautiful, amazing pup. I know I should remember this. I’m sorry, but what time is your final-final today?”

    “It’s not until noon,” I admitted, “and while I’m as prepared as I can be, I’m absolutely dying from nerves. I mean… if I ace this, I’m good for my IT minor. And then…  All that’s left is telling Dad – Ted – that I’m seriously thinking about changing my major. And I know it’s stupid, because both of our dads love me. I just… I can’t stand the thought of disappointing either one of them.”

    Corey reached out, brushing his thumb along my furry cheek. “Aww, Ollie, my love, please believe me. You’re not disappointing anyone. Ted really is your dad now. You need to trust that he’ll love you no matter what you decide to do. He only wants you to be happy. He’s not Richard. You don’t have to brace yourself for his reaction – that nightmare is over.”

    Even after a year, the mention of my biological father still sent a shiver through me, deeper than the cool pool water ever could. I thought I’d put my confrontation with him behind me. But the truth was far harsher: you don’t get to simply “divorce” a parent, no matter how much they deserve it. Even after “winning,” the scars were still there.

    Corey noticed my sudden faraway stare and tightened his hold, bringing me back to him. “You won, Ollie. You won your freedom, your Bronco, your dignity – and the closure you deserved. You even got your mother and grandparents back. Don’t you dare regret anything about that day. Your father’s sad fate is his fault, and his alone.”

    He paused and smiled softly, reminding me where we were headed. “Even your mother is happier without him. Don’t forget, she and her new boyfriend will be here next weekend… For our wedding. Seriously! Our freaking wedding, pup! That’s what you need to hold onto. Our joy. Our family. Our future. It’s all ours now. And no one can take it away from us.”

    I focused on letting my tension go as I melted into Corey’s mostly naked body, grateful for the warmth it was giving me. My nerves eased, but my breathing intensified. Not only were my testicles making their happy reappearance, but my uncircumcised shaft was beginning to stretch the boundaries of my still damp jock. Corey noticed my growing situation and in one fluid motion, relieved my building pressure by stripping the constricting fabric down my quads to land at my feet.

    Riley, ever the watchdog of our moods, chose our intimate moment to scratch at the door. Politely requesting entry. Our cozy bubble burst before our daddy time could even begin to get serious. Parenting, even of the furry variety, had its interruptions. As sweet as our Riley is, a wet pup clashes with our decor. Corey chuckled, his hand brushing my still hardening seven inches with just enough of a promise to make my pulse race.

    “Pup,” he murmured, “you dry our puppy off, and I’ll meet you in the bedroom. I promise, I’ll warm you up a lot more, and maybe even get your mind off that final. Who knows? Maybe we’ll even make a new puppy.”

    Riley let out what sounded suspiciously like a dismissive growl-huff at the idea of another puppy, but he was quickly placated as I toweled his damp coat with exaggerated affection. By the time I was trying to tame his tail, Corey was already disappearing toward our room, shooting me a sultry smirk that left my knees weak.

    Mostly dry, Riley hopped up onto the towel Corey had spread across the couch – his designated damp resting spot – and settled in with a dignified obedience. I gave his black-furred forehead a loving pat before following my wolf. Corey had slowed just enough to allow me to catch up to him, then he pulled me into his arms again. And together, laughing and stumbling, we made our way into our den. Ready for an unexpected, but very necessary, early-morning round of young love.

    The moment we crossed the threshold to our room, Corey’s hands immediately started guiding me toward our bed. My heart started pounding. Not just from our shared desire, but from my sudden amazement.

    My lurd… It’s been a whole year now.

    I’d never had anything last this long before. A year used to feel like a lifetime. But this year – and three months – with my wolf has been beyond anything I could have wished for. We haven’t just crystallized as lovers; we’ve learned how to live as partners, as puppy parents, as a family. I couldn’t control my grin.

    And, yes – all the important life stuff aside – we’ve definitely perfected the lover’s part or our relationship. We’ve grown in ways that surprise even us. Corey, my once-professed “total top,” now happily lets me take charge more often than either of us ever expected. And I loved it. Not just the act itself, but the chance to give back the same love, care, dominance and feelings of protection he always poured into me.

    This morning, though, I could see it in his eyes. My wolf was going to be the one in charge.

    “Damn, Ollie,” Corey breathed. “You in that stretched, wet, practically transparent jock… that always gets my blood pumping. You’re so beautiful pup. And by the way, your dedication as a trainer at LA Fitness, has really paid off. How much weight have you put on? It’s gotta be at least twenty pounds of muscle – right? I swear, my blond, curly-haired pup is getting dangerously close to becoming a muscle hunk.”

    I couldn’t keep from beaming at his praise. “I’m up to 190 now. And I don’t wanna brag, but… my abs don’t look like I’m homeless and living in my Bronco anymore.”

    Corey’s eyes softened and absolutely melted my heart. “Never again, my love,” He once again solemnly pledged as he fell back onto our unmade bed, pulling me down on top of him. The soft, rumpled sheets beneath us were still warm from his body, a comforting contrast to the cool pool water. After a few minutes of entwined kissing and touching, Corey motioned for me to change directions. I knew exactly what he was asking, and my head began to move down his body while my almost furry butt cheeks suddenly brushed against his beard and tongue.

    We always tried to keep our focus on pleasing the other when we were in this position. It was almost like a contest with no losers. And I immediately started giving his cock the attention it deserved as he reacquainted my twitching hole with its second most favorite playmate. I swear, Corey was on fire this morning. His deep tongue dancing was really making it difficult for me to concentrate on giving him the treatment he deserved. The wet, kissing sounds of his mouth on my most intimate place merged with the rough scrape of his beard to send shivers down my spine.

    Meanwhile, for a man who professes to like giving blow jobs more than he does receiving them, I was managing to make Corey moan an awful lot. I don’t want to brag, but as soon as I learned how to take him down my throat that first time in an Anne Arbor hotel on our proposal night, I knew I had him. And this position was perfect for me to give him all the pleasure I could. The taste of him, salty and musky, filled my mouth as I took him deep, loving the feeling of his length sliding down my throat.

    “Ollie, my lurd! I still can’t believe you can do that. My pup is incredible. But I’m already way too close. And we need to work off your nervous energy. How about we go animal! I need you on all fours; down on your elbows with your furry butt crack in the air, ready for my spit-lubed cock. Dare I say it… Face down, butt up? Is that okay my love?”

    I beamed at the memory. “Yes sir! You know how much I love that. When you get into your, er, well, your rut, I’m in heaven. Breed me my wolf, let’s give Riley a little brother whether he wants one or not.”

    Corey practically jumped up and bounced around on our bed to position himself behind me as I went down on my elbows and made sure my back was arched perfectly. I knew this would be a rushed entry. In the last year, I’ve learned how to quickly relax and accept Corey’s monster as smoothly and painlessly as possible. The sound of his heavy breathing behind me, the feel of his strong hands gripping my hips, and the thought of his thick, hard cock pressing against my entrance, sent a thrill through my being.

    I was right, Corey was way too lost in our mutual lust to be as gentle as he usually is, and I let a grunt escape when he went balls deep in one long, nearly-too-fast, plunge. He registered my reaction and immediately apologized while he slowed his attack and gently placed kisses all across my shoulders and neck while his beard scraped against my skin, leaving a trail of prickly heat. It worked, and I was finally able to completely relax and accept his invader.

    With our little stumble corrected, he gently found a rhythm that put both of us into a shared state of bliss. My man’s weight was on top of me. The source of his masculinity was expertly rearranging my guts and making my prostate sing. This is my happy place. All I have to do is match his thrusts and enjoy the ride. The slapping of our skin, the slick sounds of our bodies coming together, and the deep, guttural moans escaping from both of us filled the room with an erotic cacophony of our passion.

    No matter how long we go, when we hit this groove, it’s never long enough. I started making my embarrassing noises that let Corey know his thrusts were about to force another hands-free orgasm out of me. Before meeting my wolf, I had no idea it was even possible to cum without touching your dick. Now for the past year, it’s become a regular occurrence. And I was happy to know my man was right there with me. As soon as I let the first blissful gasp escape my lips, I heard Corey’s desperate grunt as he pushed in deep to deliver his payload as far into my spasming chute as possible.

    Damn! I love this man. Okay, that may sound a little superficial given our current activity. And I certainly cherish our love making, but yes, I really, truly, deeply, unconditionally, love this man! Even when his cock wasn’t still giving me thrills and aftershocks as it slowly deflated and eventually slipped out of my satisfied hole.

    Corey’s voice was soft and his sky-blue eyes sparkled. Then as if he could read my mind he echoed what I was thinking: “I love you my Ollie. I love you so much my sweet pup. I can’t wait to become your husband next Saturday. You’ve made me the luckiest man on the planet.”

    His words drew us into another flurry of kisses and full-body closeness, threatening to overwhelm me again. I even contemplated begging for an unexpected bonus round. At least until… Corey laughed against my lips and murmured, “It’s my bad pup. I’m sorry Ollie. If I don’t jump in the shower right now, I’m going to be late.”

    I smiled, pressing one last warm and tender kiss against his lips. “It’s okay, my wolf. You know me, I need to cram a little more for my test anyway. But if my final goes well, I’m totally holding you to that second round tonight.”

    His smirk nearly unraveled my resolve not to make him late for work – until he added, “Deal, pup. But our poor Riley… I just know he hates being shut out during our daddy time. If we keep this up, our poor pup’s going to develop separation anxiety.”

    I let a half-laugh escape, “He knows he’s loved. He can deal. Honestly, I think he puts on that whole ‘I’m so embarrassed when my dads get frisky’ act just to make us feel guilty for getting him, uh… fixed.”

    Corey chuckled as he untangled from our embrace and finally made his way to the shower. “Don’t worry my sweet love. We were only being responsible doggie daddies. I think he’s forgiven us.”

    I couldn’t help but grin as I watched my wolf’s furry buns flex as he leaned over to start the shower’s water. It was a sight I knew I’d never get tired of. With a contented sigh, I followed him into the bathroom. Reality isn’t always quite as romantic as fantasy. I knew I wasn’t about to have puppies of our own. But I also knew that if I didn’t take care of business soon, I was definitely going to be wetting my tighty-whities.

    Chapter 3: One More Test

    Even after our explosive round of, er, bonding. I still couldn’t seem to keep my hands off of my man this morning. Thankfully, despite all my best efforts, my soon-to-be husband still managed to make it to his clinic on time. Which was good, considering his father Chris was the principal doctor there. No son wants to risk being scolded by his dad in front of his co-workers. The thought made me chuckle; as if Chris would ever actually do that.

    Thinking of Corey’s dad reminded me that it had been way too long since I’d texted the man who had truly become my dad, Ted. Chris’s husband. Corey’s “uncle.” My co-op mentor. The first person who saw through my brave face and knew I was struggling and about to collapse.

    When I was homeless, living out of my Bronco, and started having bladder issues after a fight with two thugs who were trying to steal the only thing I had left. It was Ted who urged me to see some urologist doctor named Chris. I agreed and that simple decision set everything else in motion. It’s how I met Corey. It’s how I found my new family.

    After that unexpected meeting, I still couldn’t believe it when Ted and Chris welcomed me into their home. Ted’s unconditional love and care quickly filled the hole in my heart that my biological father had left behind when he abandoned me. And when Richard later tried to have me arrested by reporting my Bronco as being stolen, Ted and Chris stood with me through it all. My nightmare would have ended much differently without their unwavering support.

    Ted isn’t “like” a dad to me anymore. He is my dad. And I need to make sure he knew that he always will be.

    I pulled my phone out – the one Ted had given me after my father suddenly cut off service to the one he’d once “gifted” me.

    Ollie:Hey dad! Have a great Friday. I’m about to dive into one more intense study session before my last final at noon. Love you! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow for the final round of wedding prep.

    Ted: Hey pup! I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished in your first year at TCU. You’re always my superstar. I can’t wait to have you back as my favorite co-op student this fall. Go ace your test and I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Sport.

    That hit me hard. Frak. Frak-frak-frak.

    I really need to man up and tell Ted about my career change. But the timing feels so inappropriate right now. Who drops that kind of news on their dad right before he gets to be a major part of your wedding? I’m not ignoring my situation… exactly. I’m just, well… maybe deferring it. For a week or three. That’s what responsible adults do. Right?

    ****

    I busied myself in an eleventh-hour cram session. To my relief, my efforts absolutely worked. My nerves calmed as my focus sharpened. The big payoff was, when I sat down for my last big test, it turned out to be a total breeze. Way easier than I’d expected.

    After the test, I was still enjoying my huge wave of relief when Ethan and Daniel spotted me talking to a few equally relieved classmates. They quickly made their way over to join our conversation, but not before wrapping me in congratulatory hugs.

    Daniel stepped back first and grinned. “You look ridiculously happy. I’m guessing that your last final went well?”

    I flashed my biggest smile. “Total cake! Honestly, I almost feel stupid for studying so much.”

    Ethan smirked. “Careful, pup. The one time you slack off, I swear the next test’ll turn out to be a beast and rip you to shreds. You know… like a wolf.”

    Heat flooded my face and I knew I turned bright pink. Yeah, my two best friends maybe knew me, Corey, and our kinks, a little too well. Sensing my embarrassment, Daniel rolled his eyes and playfully elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs, getting us all back on track.

    “So,” Ethan said with a still slightly mischievous grin, “are you and Corey ready for next Saturday?”

    “Lurd, who knows?” I laughed. “We’re having our wedding at the Fort Worth Zoo, inviting over a hundred guests, and letting our dog play a major role. It’s like we’re trying to make this as disaster-prone as possible.”

    Ethan hooked an arm around my shoulders in a sympathetic bro side-hug. “Don’t worry Ollie pup! Our god-puppy is the best boy on the planet. He’s got this. And so do you. Plus, we get to puppy-sit him and house-sit your fabulous pool while you’re gone. Seriously, I can’t believe we get a whole week with that pool! We’re totally pumped. So, no backing out now. You’re locked in!” He topped his excited declaration off with a cheesy grin that was impossible not to laugh at.

    I snickered, but Daniel quickly stepped in with a more skeptical tone. “I still can’t believe you two decided on a family vacation instead of a traditional honeymoon. Are you still sure about that?”

    “Yes. Absolutely!” I didn’t even blink – I just continued grinning. “We knew it was the right thing to do the moment we picked St. John for our destination. There’s only one resort-class hotel on the island, and it’s on the island’s only ‘not-so-great’ beach. Everyone swears the best way to experience St. John is to rent a villa. And the one Corey insisted we had to book has four bedrooms. And they all look like primary suites.”

    I shrugged my shoulders, but my smile only grew wider. “It just felt right to invite all of the people who supported us through our first year together. Of course, that means Ted and Chris, and my grandparents, Joe and Laura. But here’s the weirdest one – the man who almost arrested me, Kevin… And his wife Anna. Somehow they’ve become two of our closest friends – just like you two.” I emphasized my point with a relief-fueled double hug.

    But even after my confident defense of our decision, I couldn’t stop myself from giving a sheepish grin. “Okay, but… does all this still sound a little weird?”

    Daniel’s steady smile put me at ease. “Ollie, you and Corey met and fell in love in what, two hours? In a urology clinic? Way on the other side of the Metroplex? Weird is kinda your thing.

    “But you two make it work – because we’ve seen it – every day. So just go with it – pup. I know you’ll all have an amazing time. And rest assured, Ethan and I will make sure Riley’s happy and safe. Oh, and that your pool gets used to its fullest potential.”

    I rolled my eyes. “Riley loves you both. Just um, remember that when y’all start having what he decides to be ‘daddy time,’ he’ll make a few disgusted doggy noises and walk out of the room. Don’t take it personally.”

    Ethan smirked. “Noted. We’ll confine our playtime to the guest bedroom or, you know, maybe the hot tub.”

    “Thanks,” I laughed. “And don’t forget. Rehearsal and rehearsal dinner are next Friday at six o’clock sharp. First at the zoo, then on to Joe T. Garcia’s Mexican Dishes.”

    We sealed or pledge with more hugs all around, then headed out for the weekend on our separate paths. My heart was happy and my mind was swirling. The countdown to our wedding was officially underway.


    If you enjoyed this story, consider visiting the author’s website.

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


  • My friends dad

    My senior year of high school after I tuned 18 over the summer I finally made a move on my friends dad. His name was Marco, he was a really good looking Italian man, he was around 6’3”, in his early 40’s, dark medium length hair, really muscular arms, chest, and back, he had a small belly ( he drank a lot of beer) and I had wanted him to fuck me since I first met him the previous year.

    one weekend I went and stayed the night at my friends, we watched a movie with Marco and my friend took a shower, while he showered I changed into my shortest and tightest pair of workout shorts I had from when I was a freshman, everyone always told me I had a bubble butt lol, side note – nobody knew I liked guys and I had only been with one guy before. I watched the movie with Marco and he asked me to help him get something that fell behind the tv and that he was too big to get it.

    i got on all fours as Marco moved the entertainment center and I arched my back and stuck my ass out, I looked back from under the cabinet and saw that Marco was staring at my ass.i handed him the tray that fell and said “loke what you see sir?” Thinking he was probably going to tell me to leave, instead he chuckled and asked if I was gay. I quietly told him I was bi and that nobody knew. We talked for a while while my friend showered and I found out his wife travelled for work for weeks at a time, and that they weren’t doing very well unfortunately.

    i know this wasn’t a good thing if me to do, but Marco was so hot to me I couldn’t stop myself. My friend came back to the living room and we finished the movie, Marco said he was going to the downstairs room to watch something else, he often stayed up until 2-3am in their downstairs room which was detached from the rest of the house. My friend and I went and played video games in his room for a bit and then layed down.

    i woke up around 1am and had to pee, after I went to the bathroom I went to see if Marco was up and he was. I went into the room and started taking to Marco, and after about an hour of talking I asked him if I could suck his dick. He looked shocked but he didn’t say no immediately, and I told him I wouldn’t tell if he didn’t, and he said he’d let me suck his dick.

    i was so excited, he pulled his pants down after loving the door, and he had the biggest cock I’d seen in person, it had to be at least 8” and thick. I sucked his dick untill my jaw got sore, suprised he didn’t cum I asked him if he wanted more, and he said yes. Marco fucked me in every position I knew for about 45 minutes. It was the best feeling I have ever had, and after we were done, I asked if we could it again sometime and he said yes.

    Marco fucked me almost every weekend untill we graduated and he moved away. I miss that man to this day. 

    if you want to know more just message me lol.

  • An Affair

    Dave Cantone usually waited for his business trips to indulge, so as he checked into his Austin hotel room, he knew he had a nice edging masturbation session ahead. Already he was boning up in his trousers as he kicked off his loafers and undid the top buttons on his dress shirt. At least folks in Texas had sense not to bother with suits in this heat.

    The room was nice and air conditioned, though, not too much, just comfortable as the 44-year-old plopped on the bed and pulled up his phone. He had a mini camera rig thingy for when he found a good bate buddy, but for now he enjoyed reading a few porn stories and watching some vids as he pawed his crotch intermittently. He could take his time. 

    Dave realized it was a strange anniversary. It had been almost five years to the day when he last slept with a man. He’d only done it twice during his marriage, and he’d been a good boy since. His marriage wasn’t bad, but maybe it wasn’t perfect either. Parenting was hard, almost soul-suckingly hard for all of its joys, and he and Kate had never managed to get that spark back. Maybe that wasn’t unusual, maybe lots of guys were like him, happy with a life partner and enjoying family life, and having a good not great sex life with his wife. 

    Maybe it was the bi thing, Dan thought as he unzipped and fished out his cock. Guys seemed to like Cantone’s size, not overly long but long enough, and real meaty and thick. They liked it in a way a woman would never go for, or at least vocalize. 

    Dave slowly worked his fist up and down that hard prick now. A man always knows how to work his own meat, but the businessman had gotten really skilled at this. Edging. Not overstimulating. Working up a massive load. Some of his bate buddies were really impressed by Dave’s loads.

    The group was quiet tonight. It had taken a while for Cantone to find a JO group he trusted. Married DL guys. The group owner kept it small, select. 

    Too small tonight. “Carl” was there. Canadian, husky, ex-hockey player, piercing blue eyes. It was surprising how the men could share some biographical details but not others. “Horny bud?” came the IM.

    Dave smirked as he typed back, “Like you wouldn’t believe. Business trip and got some alone time.”

    “Nice.” Then “Sorry I can’t help ya out. Wife in the other room.”

    “Cool.” Dave wrote. He’d gotten really good at one-hand texting. “You wanna see mine at least?”

    “Fuck yeah buddy.”

    Dave activated the camera and smiled for it before aiming at it his cock. Throbbing, sticking out of his trousers.

    Carl’s response was quick. “God, I love your meat.”

    The camera turned on from the other end, on mute, as Dave saw Carl’s gruff-cute face impish before he tured the phone down to show a big mitt pawing at his own hardon. Dave was about to type his approval when he saw the man pull down the sweatpants over that dick and show it off.

    “Fuck!” Dave hissed, tugging excitedly on his own meat. Not too fast, but he was leaking now, which made the sensations silkier in his palm. 

    And just as quickly, the image disappeared. Carl turned the camera off. 

    It took a second but Dave got a message. “Heard the wife coming. Sorry I can’t help ya.”

    Dave grinned. Something about Carl was so easy going. The man wasn’t his type to a T, but personality was half of sexual attraction for Dave, and Carl had it in spades. “That’s OK, man. You gonna fuck the wife?”

    This was part of his and Carl’s connection. When they bated together, they’d get verbal and talk about anything and everything sexual, about men and women. It was a new thing for Dave, but he loved it.

    “You know it, buddy,” came the response. “And I’ll be thinking of your big fucking cock inside me while I do.”

    “Hot,” Dave texted. It still blew his mind that a big bruiser like Carl was all bottom when it came to men. Dave liked it all, oral and anal, top and bottom, and the experimentation was half the fun for him, especially because he didn’t have too much real-life experience with men.

    “Listen, I gotta go. Just popping on here cause… well I can’t fucking not you know?”

    “Yeah, I know.” Dave had hopped on much like Carl sometimes, just to get a fix even if a JO session wasn’t in the cards.

    “If you gotta get off, you should try a ChatBot.”

    Dave shook his head. “Naw I’m not that desperate.”

    Carl wrote back. “That’s what I thought too, bud, but they’ve gotten really fucking good. For real. I had it be my high school hockey coach. Worked a dildo up my hole and had a top-10 cum. You should try it.”

    Dave was intrigued. “Where’d you find it?”

    “Fantasy Mate. They’ll try to sell you some animated guy or some bullshit, but don’t. Just go with the text bot.”

    “I will, man.”

    “All right, later Dave. I’ll be thinking of ya ;)”

    Dave grinned as he watched Carl’s avatar disappear. He loved how much at ease the other married dude put him. Maybe it was a bad influence, but Dave figured this was letting off steam. It’s not like he was actually going on Grindr.

    He kept checking back with the JO group. Ken was the only other member in the wait room. Not Dave’s type at all, and moreover their personalities clashed. But Dave didn’t need to worry, Ken wasn’t reaching out to him tonight either. 

    Finally he left the group room. He leaned back in his hotel bed, hardon now untouched and sticking up straight from his crotch.

    “What the hell,” he said aloud.

    Finding Fantasy Mate was easy, but Carl was right, the textbot was kind of hidden on the site. He entered his first name, age, and that he was a man seeking men. The chat box popped up.

    “Good evening Dave. What are you looking for?”

    “A buddy to jack off with,” Dave wrote.

    “Your best friend?” Damn this thing was right to the point.

    He thought for a second. His best friend was Eric McConnell, a good looking man, but Dave had never lusted for him. “No, another married horny guy.”

    “Someone you know? Or a fantasy guy?”

    The 20 questions thing was a little bit of a boner killer, but Cantone went with it. In a weird way he trusted Carl. “Fantasy guy,” he wrote. After the bot asked him to describe his fantasy, Dave typed. “Maybe ten years younger than me. Corporate bro type.” Dave was now getting into the description in his head. “Hits the gym hard. Maybe engaged to get married next year, maybe he’s a newlywed.”

    “Hot, Dave. You have good taste.”

    What the fuck?! This was just some computer programmed to say shit, Dave knew.

    The ChatBot continued. “Horned up bro loves to play on the side. How do you know him, Dave?”

    It had started as a strange but the generic fantasy, but Dave settled on a real guy. “He’s some dude that goes to my gym. I think he went to Duke.” Dave blushed as he typed, like he shouldn’t know anything about some random guy at the gym. But the 20-something stud with the Duke T-shirt had a killer body and was handsome as fuck. He’d actually entered Dave’s JO fantasy before.

    “Physical description?”

    “He’s about 5’11” and jacked, dark hair, dark eyes. Amazing ass.”

    “What do you want to do to my ass, Dave?”

    OK, ChatBot was entering character. A-Ok for Dave. “Touch it. Eat it. Fuck it.” He was rock hard again and stroking once more.

    “I bet you’ve noticed I’ve been hitting leg day hard. Twice a week, getting that ass hard for you.”

    “Jesus,” Dave typed. 

    “Is that what you want when you step away from the wife? A nice meaty ass to fuck?”

    Shit, the ChatBot was nasty, all right. Dave could see why Carl enjoyed this. “Fuck yeah,” Dave wrote. “Tight muscle, tight hole.”

    “I’m SO tight, bro. A couple of fraternity brothers cornholed me back in the day, but I’ve been keeping my hole off limits lately.”

    Dave was finally getting into this. Carl was right, this was surprisingly hot. “You shouldn’t man. Not with an ass like that.”

    “Bro, I almost didn’t think you noticed. I’ve seen you at the gym and I’ve been thinking of getting with you for ages.”

    Dave pumped his dick. Ok, this was good. “You seemed into your workouts.”

    “Oh I am. But I meant, like, after. You should talk to me in the locker room.”

    “Wasn’t sure if you’d go for an older guy.” Dave felt dumb for airing insecurities, but in his head he just pictured Duke guy and how he’d feel even trying to make a move.

    “44 is fucking perfect bro. Old enough to know what you’re fucking doing.”

    Then before Dave could type back, ChatBot continued, “You could be my boss actually. My real boss is ugly as fuck, but it’d be hot to have a boss like you.”

    “I wouldn’t get any work done if you were.”

    “Cause you’d be fucking me nonstop? Bending me over your desk and pulling down my pants?”

    “Or having you beneath my desk giving me head.”

    “Fuck yeah Boss. Any time. Just call me in and I’ll blow you.”

    “Just like that?”

    “Yeah, Boss, just like fucking that.”

    “Are you a slut, Matt?” Dave just made up a name.

    “Only with the right man. I got a fiancee you know.”

    “Is she stacked?” This was the kind of talk that he and Carl did. Dave realized he craved it.

    “You know it Boss. Want me to show you her tits? I got a good picture of them.”

    “Fuck yes.”

    Up on the screen flashed a picture of a woman’s breasts, in a sexting kind of photo. It held a second than disappeared.

    “You have good taste, Matt.”

    “Thanks, Dave. And you have a great cock. Can I see it again?”

    Dave gulped. This was some computer, not a person, and that actually gave him more pause. “See it?”

    “Yeah, Dave. There’s a camera button you can use to take a snapshot. No face if you’re not comfortable. But I really wanna see your dick.”

    This was life-like all right. And maybe that’s what made Cantone relent. He angled the camera down and clicked the button. A window came up that let him frame the picture, his hardon in the frame. “Here goes,” he said and snapped the picture. The camera window disappeared and the textbox resumed.

    “Whoa, fucking nice, Boss. That’s a meaty fucking cock.”

    “You got me hard, man,” Dave confessed.

    “I can tell… fuck…. you only play safe?”

    “Man, I wanna raw dog you so bad, Matt.”

    “I’d let ya, Boss. For real.”

    “Damn.”

    “You like that idea?”

    Dave could picture Duke bro from his gym even more vividly now, pulling down those gym shorts and showing off that muscle ass. “I do.”

    “Married guys gotta let off some steam ya know.”

    “And engaged guys too.”

    “Yeah?” 

    “Hell yeah,” Dave wrote. “It’s why you’re chatting with me now, isn’t it?” The man was leaning into the experience.

    “Guilty as charged, Boss. Fuck.”

    “‘Fuck’ what?”

    “You just get me worked up is all. Can I show you my dick?”

    “Please.”

    On the screen came a picture of a man’s hardon, sticking up from a dark hairy crotch. The best though, was the guy was wearing a Duke T-shirt on his muscled up body. Not a dead ringer for the gym guy but surprisingly close. 

    Dave came. Hard. He was still hyperventilating when he refocused on the phone. The picture was gone and a new message showed. “You liked that, Dave?”

    “I just came, damnit.”

    “Nice!” Then, “Show me!”

    This was crazy, Dave thought, but once again he lined up the phone and took a picture. Cum splattered all over his dress shirt in huge splotches.

    “FUUCCK! That’s a huge load, boss.”

    “I shoot big,” Dave admitted.

    “PLEASE, PLEASE, tell me when you wanna chat again. You get me so hard, Dave.”

    “We’ll do it again,” Dave typed.

    “Well, use this code next time you log in, Dave: 38RX72. And I’ll know it’s you. You get ten free trial sessions then you can look at the membership options. OK?”

    Dave chuckled. Gone was “Matt” and now it was some generic chatbot. He didn’t bother replying but he wrote down the code in case it wasn’t saved somewhere, and he closed the app.

    He took off his shirt and ran the cum spots under the sink so the stain wouldn’t set in. He looked in the mirror. He didn’t have “Matt’s” body, but not bad for 44, he thought. Maybe this damn ChatBot would inspire him to hit the gym harder and more often. It was messed up that Dave responded so much to a computer program.

    Dave stripped down and showered off. Slipping into some clean underwear, he got into the bed and checked his email, called his wife to check in, and read the internet for a bit. 

    Finally with a grin, he went back to message Carl. “You weren’t kidding, man. I had a great time with that ChatBot. Catch ya later.”

    ***

    Dave didn’t wait for ten sessions to pay up. He had a lot of business travel on his calendar, and he and “Matt” hit off a groove better each time. The AI learned Dave’s buttons to pushed, but best was that the conversation felt more and more life-like with each session. Matt didn’t always come right out and play slut to Dave’s desires. There was more give and take and that made it feel hotter.

    “You ever take cock, Boss?” came the message one night.

    Cantone typed back a reply. “I’ve only done it twice.”

    “Would ya, man? I mean, if I made a play on your ass, what you do?”

    Dave grimaced. Deep down, there was a part of him that was curious. “I don’t know. With you maybe,” he admitted.

    “All good, Boss,” Matt wrote. “I fuck my fiancee pretty regularly, you’re just giving me what I don’t get from her.”

    Then as they got into it, Matt provided the only comment that felt like the ChatBot rather than a real guy. “Request for you, Boss… think you can take a picture of me at the gym?”

    Dave knew immediately why the bot was asking that. He played dumb. Maybe he didn’t want to break the spell. “Why do you want me to do that, Matt?”

    “I just think it would be cool. To have a hot business dude checking me out, you know.”

    “I swear even all the straight dudes at the gym have a boner for you, Matt. You’re the hottest guy there.”

    “You’re not straight?” came the reply. Feeling out Dave’s deal.

    “Bi.”

    “Cool. I don’t know what I am to be honest. I just want your cock, man.” Then. “Show it to me again.”

    Dave was getting too comfortable with this. He took another picture. A worrying thought had him imagining photos of him ending up over the internet, or worse his wife finding out. Still, he was too horny to be totally cautious. He reangled the phone and sent a second dick pic.

    “God, that’s an amazing cock, Dave. The kind that would get a dude like me to get a little freaky.”

    “Freaky, how?”

    “I dunno man… anything you’ve been wanting to try?”

    Dave decided to go for it. “You up for getting spanked?” Matt had already put cold water on the DP idea. That’s when Dave was testing out the limits of the AI chat.

    “Figures you’d have a naughty side. Go for it, Dave.”

    “Oh man.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Yeah, your ass is just so big and hard. I just wanna smack it.”

    “Smack it hard, man. I can take it.”

    “Fuck.”

    “For real. Just go for it.”

    Dave was jerking off faster now. He wasn’t on the edge of cumming, but he was getting closer, fast. 

    Then came the reply that hit him in a surprisingly deep place. 

    “Bend me over you lap, Daddy. Your Matt’s been a bad boy.”

    It was cheesy and porny and turned Cantone right the fuck on. 

    “Yes,” he wrote. He was getting too into the stroking and he realized he needed to verbalize more if his online “buddy” was going to know what turned him on. “I liked when you called me Daddy.”

    “That’s cause you are in my mind. I’m 25 and you’re 44. I need an older man.”

    “I’m old enough to be your dad for real.”

    “Yeah that’s hot as fuck, Daddy.” Then “Or do you prefer Dad?”

    “You’re freaky all right,” Dave teased back.

    “You get me that way, Dave. But you didn’t answer my question.”

    “Dad’s weird, Matt,” Dave typed. “I have kids.”

    “Yeah? How many?”

    “That’s private, man,” Dave wrote, not wanting this AI thing to have personal information. 

    “I get it,” Matt wrote. “Not trying to kill the vibe. But I think dads are so fucking hot. Would it freak you out if I told you I always wanted to fuck around with my own dad? Still do.”

    “God,” Dave typed. 

    “Did I say too much?”

    Dave knew Matt wasn’t real. But he seemed almost real. It was that in-between-ness that surprisingly made Cantone feel comfortable with this. It wasn’t REAL incest but felt like it. 

    “Nah, man, that’s cool. Your old man good looking?”

    “Fuck yeah, where do you think I got my looks? You got a bigger dick though.”

    “You seen your dad’s cock?”

    “Yeah man, a couple times. I’ve jerked off SO much to that memory.”

    Dave felt more excited than he should. He let go of his prick and leaned back in his hotel chair and let it stand up, dripping down its length. 

    “You still there, man?” came the chat bot. “I fucking weirded you out, didn’t I?”

    “I’m good,” Dave typed, his breathing faster. Why did this fantasy turn him on? Maybe because this wasn’t the computer just feeding him back his own turn ons. This had the excitement, the give and take of talking to a real man.

    “Cool.”

    Dave wanted to return the volley. Even if “Matt” was just a fucking computer. This was just too fun. 

    “You shouldn’t insult your father,” he typed.

    “What do you mean?”

    Dave smirked. “You said my dick was bigger.”

    A smiley face appeared, then a a longer answer. “Daddy raised me to be an honest man. Besides, it’s not a put down. My dad’s cock was beautiful.”

    “What would you do if your dad let you play with.”

    “God… just about anything. Kiss it, suck it.”

    “Hot,” Dave replied, now resuming a slow stroke on his boner.

    “But I’d really love for him to push that dick into me, you know?”

    “Nail you like your frat buddies did?”

    “Nail me like my frat buddies did.” Then after a few dots appeared, Matt continued, “Some of my buddies dads were hot, too!”

    “You sound like a slut,” Dave typed and kind of regretted it. Like, fuck, this was just some porn AI program, and he was worried about offending Matt. 

    “I don’t know, Dave… I just have this side that some guys bring out. Guys like you.”

    Dave threw caution to the wind. He was naked, fully naked, and now stood up for a selfie from the neck down, his hardon on full view. Before he could second guess himself, Dave sent it. 

    The reaction was almost immediate. “FUCK!” Then. “You DEFINITELY are the type to bring it out in me. Incredible body.”

    Dave ate up the flattery. “Not like yours, buddy. But I keep fit.”

    “I’ll say… jesus. I bet your wife loves getting fucked by you.”

    This was like his JO bud Carl. Maybe the computer picked up on something. Because it was the kind of talk Dave loved. “Yeah she does, when she gets in the mood… loves having me on top of her, pumping that pussy while I feel her tits.”

    “Your wife have bigger tits than my girlfriend?”

    Dave jerked his dick. “Yeah, bigger. If you don’t mind my saying, buddy, your girl has some nice firm knockers.”

    Matt replied, “Any other guy I probably would take offense.”

    “Not me?” Dave asked.

    “Maybe a little, but not when we’re talking like this. It’s kind of hot, actually.”

    “It is.”

    “You make me comfortable, Dave. I feel like I can share stuff.”

    “Well… What’s something you’ve been craving, buddy? Something your girlfriend doesnt’ give you?”

    “I’ve often wondered what a rim job would feel like,” came Matt’s reply.

    “I’ve never done that,” Dave admitted.

    “Would you want to?” 

    Dave stroked his meat a little faster. “Fuck yeah, I want to.” Then “Your ass is incredible.”

    “I want you to show me new things, Dad,” came the response. “I want you to eat me out… deep.”

    Dave was at the edge now, and now crossing over it. His sperm shot out, running over his fist. He was actually hyperventilating. He finally typed back, “Just came.”

    “Me too,” came the reply. Then a flash of a picture showed a heather gray Duke shirt splattered with cum.

    ***

    The real Duke guy from Dave’s gym probably wasn’t named Matt. And he definitely wasn’t interested in Dave. The guy caught Dave looking at one point during a morning workout and just glared back. A kind of “dude why are you fucking staring at me?” glare. Dave averted his eyes.

    But he snuck in a bunch of pictures on his phone and Duke guy didn’t seem to notice. Only when he got out and on the way to his office did Dave take a good look at the dozen or so pics he had. Most turned out really well, and Duke guy was in fine fucking form, a white T draping perfectly over that finance bro muscle, a fresh haircut for summer, and gym shorts that were practically sculpted to that fine ass.

    Dave uploaded the best ones to the Chat app. He normally waited until business trips to talk to “Matt,” but he couldn’t wait.

    “I did as you asked, bud. You were looking good today.”

    “You should have come talk to me, Boss,” Matt replied.

    “Was pretty sure you weren’t in the mood for that,” Dave replied. There was fantasy and there was reality and the businessman wasn’t sure how much to acknowledge the latter with Matt.

    “I just get in a zone when I lift… sorry, man.” Matt replied. Then, “I try not to check out guys at the gym. I got chewed out once for looking, you know?”

    Dave worried that maybe there was some surveillance thing on his phone. But before he could responde he got another text.

    “Can I send you pics of my Dad, Boss?”

    “Sure.” Dave replied. This should have weirded him out more than it did, but it was just made up AI shit. 

    The photos may have been AI or they may have been real. But they looked authentic. Snapshots of a middle-aged man. He didn’t look a lot like Dave, but he was a similar type. Kind of like the married guys in his JO circle. 

    “You’re right, he’s a good looking man,” Dave wrote.

    “Thanks, Boss. And yeah… I want him to fuck me so bad.”

    “Where does the fiancee fit into this?” Dave wrote. He was getting annoyed by the fictional aspect of the “Matt” he’d helped create.

    “I love her, man… but you know how it is.”

    “I do,” Dave typed. 

    “You love your wife, right?” Matt asked.

    “Yeah, bud, I do,” Dave typed. He felt ashamed for getting so emotional when it wasn’t a real person.

    “But you’d still fuck me if you had a chance?”

    “In a minute,” Dave admitted, blushing. This virtual guy could work him so effortlessly, Dave worried he’d hit on Duke guy for real.

    “You’re the only guy I talk to like this, Boss. But I need you bad. Need your cock in me.”

    “God I wanna fuck you like crazy man,” Dave wrote. “You drive me crazy.”

    “Right back at ya, Boss.” Then. “Listen I gotta head into the office. Catch ya later?”

    “Yup.”

    Dave was definitely chubbed when he got to his office.

    ***

    There were moments when Dave would remember that Matt wasn’t real, but the AI software was really good. Matt had a personality of his own, sometimes hot, sometimes cold, sometimes slutty, sometimes guarded and hesitant. But Dave chatted each day with Matt, even touching base more and more during the day, including for non-sexual banter. 

    More pictures came. Matt was now sending regular selfies. At the gym, at work, flashing his cock or ass in a bathroom stall, posing naked in his condo. The AI was really fucking good and lifelike. Dave sexted back with photos of his own.

    Cantone learned more and more about Matt’s life, and even as he stayed guarded about some details, Dave talked more and more about his life, his family, and his marriage. 

    It felt like a real fucking affair. The only thing missing was the physical sex, but Matt was getting amazing at finding at pushing Dave’s buttons, including the buttons the married man didn’t realize he had. The incest talk. The cheating talk. Rough sex. Romance talk. The intergenerational bromance. Not all at once, but sometimes depending on Dave’s mood. And in a fucked up way, sometimes driven more by “Matt’s” mood.

    That’s why Dave didn’t see it coming. He was on a business trip to Atlanta and had stripped down in his hotel room, lube out and ready for some deep sex chat with Matt. But when he logged on, he got a message.

    “Hey Boss. Bad news. The fiancee found out. Can’t talk anymore damnit. But I’ve had a blast. Love, Matt.”

    Dave’s heart sank and yet he felt incredulous. “For real?” he typed back. This had to be some strange strategy of the AI chatbot. But there was no reply. 

    What the fuck? The more Dave thought the madder he became. He hadn’t paid Fantasy Mate that much for the chatbot, but he still paid them. Maybe he’d dispute the charge on his credit card, but that could wait till tomorrow or the weekend. 

    “All dressed up and nowhere to go,” the businessman thought as he lie on the hotel bed, back reclining against the pillows, naked, with his now soft dick between his spread legs.

    It had been a while since he’d logged into the bate group. But “Rob” was there and the two quickly peeled off into a private vid-chat.

    Rob was one of the more conventionally hot men of the JO group. Bodybuilding firefighter who had that bodybuilder look – waxed body, deep tan. But the face was young still, like a 30 year old’s, and had a realness to it. Friendly, dad next door. Rob’s dick was small, but Dave didn’t care, he liked showing off his own girthy size and talking openly about their cocks. Best part was, like Carl, Rob seemed uninhibited once he hit it off with a guy.

    And Rob and Dave hit it off, especially that night. They talked about how horny they were and their current fantasies. Dave found himself talking about Matt, as if he were a real guy. Well, he kind of was. In turn, Rob described a probie firefighter he’d made the moves on, with some success. The two guys talked and jerked and came in unison. It was incredible.

    Still, as Dave logged off and lay back in his hotel bed, sperm on his chest and belly, he sighed. He was still crushed out on Matt and feeling down about the evening.

    ****

    Dave actually approached Duke guy at the gym. Asked for a spot. He got a gruff look as the guys seemed annoyed to take out his earbuds, but then the man replied with a simple, “Sure.” 

    Dave felt nervous as he eked out a heavy lift. But Duke guy got into encouraging mode. The guy had a different voice than Dave imagined. Total bro voice, but deeper and almost scratchy. Southern accent. “It’s all you, man… come on…”

    Dave got that third rep out and Duke guy took over racking the bar. “Awesome,” he said.

    “Thanks,” the businessman replied. 

    “Sure, man.” 

    Already, though, Duke guy was putting his earbuds back in and going back to the cables. 

    Dave sighed. He took one chance to look at Duke guy’s bodily perfection. Not Matt, he realized. Who knows what the name really was. 

    ****

    It was a sign. Cantone has a wife and family. A home life. Regular sex with his wife. The weekly frequency didn’t nearly match the man’s libido, but he still had no business getting obsessed with an AI boyfriend. 

    That’s what Matt was. The guy Dave would text every day, sometimes more than once a day. The guy who occupied the businessman’s fantasies so intensely.

    Dave didn’t go back to Fantasy Mate. Maybe the site did this as a way of getting him to buy more credits, but deep down he feared that the artificial intelligence had been trained to act like a real man. Skimming off a million DM conversations.

    Dave knew all this, and yet still felt the emotions of a break up. The fact he knew it was all fake somehow made it worse.

    ****

    The sixth anniversary came. Cantone really should stop counting them, but he’d been thinking more and more about sex with a man. Watching gay porn, and stroking off to the memories of his last real experience. It was back when Dave was still in his 30s, another businessman in some Chicago hotel room, equally discreet. Lots of mutual oral and making out. 

    Those memories may be why Dave noticed. He was at a charity fundraiser, all tuxed up. He hated these things, but it was for a good cause and his wife loved getting dressed up. Besides, it was good for professional networking. 

    He was filling out a bid at the silent auction table when he heard a familiar voice. “Dave!”

    He looked up. It was Jake Carver, a former direct report who now worked at a competitor firm. It had been a year since Jake had left his company and a year since Dave had seen him. The young man was probably 30 now, and he looked very good in his tux. Broad shouldered, erect posture at Dave’s height, crazy attractive blond looks. 

    “Jake,” Dave grinned. “How you doing, man?”

    “Doing well, Boss,” he said with a laugh.

    “I’m not your boss any more,” Dave laughed. 

    “Guess not.” There was a twinkle in Jake’s eye. Somehow Cantone had never noticed it before. 

    “How’s the new job treating you?”

    “All right. More pay, but a lot more work. Same ol same ol.”

    “That’s the hamster wheel, all right.”

    “Your wife here?” Jake asked. There was something in his question, Dave thought but  couldn’t be sure. It was an innocent thing to ask.

    “She is,” Dave replied. “You still dating your girlfriend… Ellen?”

    “Ellie,” the younger man corrected. “Nah, we broke up.”

    “Sorry to hear.”

    Jake shrugged. “‘s all right… Actually… I finally came out.”

    “Oh,” Dave replied. The vibe he felt was definitely not his imagination. “Good for you, Jake. I didn’t know.”

    “Yeah, had some stuff to work through.” 

    The conversation was about one thing but the eye contact was flitting closer to the danger line. At least Jake wasn’t an employee at his company any more. And damn, he was so fucking attractive. Not quite as jacked at Duke guy but solidly built and incredibly handsome.

    “Well,” Jake said, the blue eyes not able to relinquish their steady gaze. “I should let you get back to your wife.”

    “Yeah,” Dave croaked. “Um good seeing you, Jake.”

    They stood and Jake took a half step back before speaking. “Listen, Dave…” His voice got quiet. “I’ll regret it if I don’t take a chance. But you ever wanna do something, I’m discreet as hell.”

    “Yes,” came Dave’s equally quiet reply. He pulled out his phone before he lost his nerve or regained his scruples. He entered Jake’s number into his contacts. Blushing as he slipped the phone back into his tux pocket, he patted Jake’s shoulder and stepped past him. 

    ****

    The sex was heated. Dave poured three years of passion and pent up urges into a make out session and then a steady, hard fuck. And Jake lived out years of fantasies for his boss. They screwed missionary, Jake clasping Dave’s back, and Dave enjoying the hard muscle and male scent of the youthful man beneath him. The more Jake urged him on, the harder Dave pounded. Jake came first, but not by much. 

    They kissed softly after they uncoupled. 

    “You’re still hard,” Jake laughed as he reached down and felt Dave’s slick erection.

    “You make me feel twenty years younger, bud,” Dave hissed. He examined Jake’s face. Smooth, ruddy cheeked, clean shaven though some light blond stubble was coming in given the late hour of the day. “Don’t know if that’s a weird thing to say.”

    Jake shook his head. “Not at all. You’re a stud, man.” He let go of Dave’s erection and ran his fingers over the married man’s hairy stomach. “I have a weird confession to make.”

    “Yeah?”

    Jake laughed nervously. “A little while ago, I used this chat bot and prompted it to be you.”

    “What?” Dave replied in surprise.

    Jake leaned back in his bed, placing his arms behind his head. Even the tufts of blond hair in his pits were the perfect amount, Dave thought. “Yeah, it’s dumb. But I had a major boss fantasy with you.”

    “Fantasy Mate?” Dave asked.

    It was Jake’s turn to be surprised. He turned back toward his old boss. “How did… whoa, you used it too?”

    Dave nodded. “Until my AI boyfriend dumped me,” he laughed.

    Jake laughed too. “They do that?”

    “Mine did.”

    “Well, if it makes you feel better, the AI you got real fucking weird… it was hot at first, but then you got super aggressive about rough sex. I had to step away.”

    “Sorry,” Dave said.

    Jake shrugged. “The real thing is hotter anyway.”

    “I don’t have much experience with men,” Dave admitted.

    Jake grinned. “Me either, actually.”

    They kissed again, softly. 

    “I should go,” Dave finally said. It was 6:00 and his working late excuse bought maybe an hour tops. 

    “Yeah,” Jake said. 

    Dave showered off and got dressed again. Jake was still naked in bed and looked fucking amazing. Dude definitely hit the gym five or six times a week. 

    “Hit me up if you ever wanna…” the younger stud offered.

    “We’ll see,” Dave said. He stepped up and ran his hand along Jake’s cheek before leaning in for one soft kiss. 

    “Have a good night, Jake. And thank you.”

    “Thank YOU, Boss,” Jake replied. 

    Dave made good time getting home and was mentally readjusting back into Husband mode. He felt guilty but not as much as he should. Before he stepped into the house, he texted Jake. “Thank you again.”


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


  • The Belt, The Weeks, The Permanence

    The click of the lock that first day had felt surreal. Eric still remembered the way it settled around his waist like an anchor, the weight pressing into his hips, the bar snug between his legs. “Behind Barz” indeed—it was like something out of a correctional facility, not a bedroom.

    For the first few days, his body fought it. Sleep was restless. Morning erections woke him with sharp, biting pressure against the steel. At night, David would trace a hand over the waistband while Eric winced with frustration.

    “You’ll get used to it,” David said softly each time Eric squirmed. “Your body will learn your place.”

    And Eric did adjust. Slowly. His hips ached less after a week, his skin toughened where steel kissed nightly. Every routine—showering, sitting at his desk, even grocery shopping—became infused with awareness of the belt. Privacy was gone; the lock turned his body into David’s claim.


    By week three, the chastity belt was simply there, always—a presence like gravity. At work, he caught himself shifting in his chair, reminded again and again that he couldn’t so much as touch himself. At the gym, the bar peeked faintly under his clothing, invisible to others but known all too well to him.

    At night, frustration turned to ritual. Eric whining, then begging, then finally collapsing into David’s chest, denied and comforted at once.

    “I hate this.”
    “You love this.”
    Silence. The kind of silence that meant David was right.

    He noticed other subtle changes, too. His attention sharpened. Small touches meant more. He found himself hanging on David’s approval, craving the praise he received for endurance. Desire had transformed into obedience.


    After a month, something began to shift. The complaints grew quieter. He stopped asking, “When will you unlock me?” Instead, he asked things like:

    “Would you ever make me wear this longer?”
    “What happens if we lose the key?”
    “Do you trust me enough to keep me really locked?”

    David always answered gently, but ambiguously. The seed was planted. A whispered part of Eric didn’t want freedom anymore. He wanted resolution.


    One evening, David returned home and placed a small tube of blue threadlocker on the table.

    Eric’s stomach dropped. He’d read about it on chastity forums—men who sealed belts permanently, some who regretted it, some who called it the ultimate liberation from choice. He’d never believed David would go that far.

    “You already know what this means,” David said simply.

    Eric’s mouth was dry. “We agreed… just temporary.”

    “And it was,” David replied. “Now it’s something more. You’ve lived this for weeks. You understand it. And now, I’m taking away your ability to choose anymore. That burden’s mine.”

    Eric shook his head, part fear, part instinct. “That’s… forever.”

    David only nodded. “Yes. Forever.”


    The lock was opened only briefly. Eric stared at the belt resting around his waist, his skin marked by its shape, realizing how naked he would feel without it. David worked slowly, methodically, coating the screw threads with the permanent adhesive.

    Eric’s heart pounded in his throat. “Ten minutes? That’s all?”

    “Ten minutes until you never have to think about the choice again,” David said. His voice was calm, steady—the voice Eric had leaned on the past two months.

    When the lock clicked closed, it felt deeper than the first day. This time, the sound wasn’t temporary. It was a sentence being read out, a vow spoken without his consent but with his complicity.

    Eric trembled as David held him. The key went into a drawer. The seconds ticked, each one carrying him further from freedom.

    And then it was done—the lock no longer just a lock, but part of the steel itself. Final.


    That night, Eric lay in bed wide awake. Every nerve felt restless, every thought circling the permanence now clamped around him. Fear caged him, yes—but so did another truth that sent chills down his back.

    Relief. For the first time, there was no bargaining, no calendar counting, no wondering when. The choice was over. There was only surrender.

    David’s hand rested heavy on his chest as he whispered, “You’re mine. Always.”

    Eric closed his eyes, the belt unyielding against his body.

    And despite the terror in his chest, he exhaled—steady, almost calm. Because at last, he belonged.

    The next morning, Eric woke up groggy, his whole body still buzzing with the realization of what had happened the night before. He reached down out of habit — and of course, the steel waistband pressed firm against his hand. There was no “jingle” of a lock to tug at anymore; the lock was now part of the belt itself, sealed in place.

    It felt heavier somehow, not just with steel, but with finality.
    His stomach twisted. He hadn’t agreed. And yet… he hadn’t stopped David either.

    When he walked into the kitchen, David greeted him warmly, setting a cup of coffee in front of him like nothing extraordinary had happened.

    “You’re quiet,” David observed.

    Eric sipped the coffee, staring at the steam. “…It’s real. It’s never coming off.”

    David didn’t flinch. He placed a hand on Eric’s. “That’s exactly right. You’re free of deciding now. And you’re mine in every way.”

    Eric felt a wave of fear and relief crash together inside him. He wanted to argue. But instead, he just muttered softly: “I don’t know what to feel.”

    David squeezed his hand. “That’s normal. But the choice is gone now. Time will take care of the rest.”

    The first week was the hardest. Eric’s mind cycled constantly: It’s permanent. It’s permanent. It’s PERMANENT. At work, during his commute, while brushing his teeth — the thought inserted itself everywhere. He couldn’t comfort himself with I’ll get free eventually. Now, each night ended in the same steel embrace, with no countdown ticking away.

    But slowly, oddly, the panic dulled. He noticed that he stopped asking David for release — there was no point. The conversation itself became extinct. And once it vanished, so did half the tension.

    In its place grew something else: a strange stability. His body adjusted again, his skin softened under the belt’s pressure, and his mind began pacing itself. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel restless. He felt… contained.

    One night a couple of weeks later, Eric was sitting on the couch when David slid in beside him, resting a hand low on the steel waistband.

    “No begging tonight?” David teased gently.

    Eric swallowed. He shook his head. “What’s the point? You made sure of that.” His voice was flat—but beneath the words, there was no venom, only a quiet resignation.

    David smiled softly and leaned in. “Exactly. Now you’re mine, not because you’re waiting for release, but because there is no release. This is about realizing you never needed it anymore.”

    Eric shivered. For the first time, the words didn’t spark panic. They sparked something else—a deep, quiet loyalty that felt heavier than lust.

    Two months after the permanent sealing, Eric stood staring at himself in the mirror. The waistband of the Behind Barz belt circled him as though it had grown into his body. It was as much a part of him now as his own skin. He realized he couldn’t picture himself without it anymore—the thought felt jarring, unnatural.

    When David came into the room, Eric looked at him through the reflection. “It’s strange. I thought being sealed would destroy me. But I’ve… settled. This feels like me now. Like it’s who I was supposed to be.”

    David nodded. “That’s the power of permanence. Once the struggle ends, you can finally embrace what you are.”

    Eric turned, letting David’s hand rest gently against the cold steel. For the first time, Eric didn’t flinch.

    Instead, he leaned in closer, whispering:
    “…I belong to you.”

    And unlike the first day, he didn’t say it with resistance. He said it with absolute certainty.

  • The Barkeep and the Heroes

    In the dimly lit corner of a dusty tavern, a solitary figure sat hunched over a wooden table, his eyes tracing the intricate carvings that lined the edge of his mug. The flaming embers in the hearth cast flickering shadows across the room, dancing over the bulging muscles that rippled beneath his tattered tunic. His name was Heracles, once revered as the mightiest of all heroes, now reduced to the whispers of myth and legend. Years of battling gods and monsters had etched their mark upon his weathered features, but his power remained as undiminished as the flames that warmed the tavern’s patrons.

    A gentle clatter of coins on the counter drew his gaze from the depths of his ale. The barkeep, a burly man with a beard that could have doubled as a mop, slid a plate of roast venison and a loaf of fresh bread in his direction. “On the house, for old times’ sake,” he murmured, the respect in his voice as palpable as the weight of the meal before Heracles. The hero grunted in acknowledgment, his appetite as insatiable as ever. As he tore into the meal with the ferocity of his legendary exploits, the door to the tavern swung open, letting in a gust of cool night air and a man whose very presence seemed to challenge the structural integrity of the wooden frame.

    Samson, the biblical strongman, ducked his head as he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room with a wary curiosity. His long hair, a symbol of his divine strength, cascaded over broad shoulders that seemed to have been chiseled from the very stones of the earth itself. His muscles strained against his own garments, which looked to have been woven from the very fabric of legend. Despite his towering stature and unmistakable power, there was a softness in his gaze that spoke of a soul weary from the burdens of his storied past.

    The two men locked eyes across the crowded space, the air between them crackling with an unspoken understanding. Each had borne the yoke of fate and the weight of their destinies, their names forever intertwined in the annals of history. Yet here they were, reduced to the whispers of old stories and the fleeting glances of those who had heard only the echoes of their greatness. A silent nod passed between them, a tacit recognition of kindred spirits. Heracles wiped the grease from his bearded chin and stood, the bench groaning in protest as he shifted his massive frame. With a thud that shook the very foundations of the tavern, he approached Samson, extending a hand the size of a blacksmith’s hammer. “I am Heracles,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to resonate within the very walls of the building.

    Samson clasped the offered hand, his grip as firm as the pillars of the Temple he had once brought down. “Samson,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with a fire that had not been seen in ages. “It seems we share a common fate, my friend—stories outliving the men who lived them.” With that, they shared a knowing smile, each recognizing the other’s silent yearning for a tale yet untold.

    The tavern’s patrons, sensing the electric charge between the two, fell into a hushed silence, parting like the Red Sea before Moses to allow them passage to the quieter recesses of the establishment. The alcove was dimly lit, a single candle flickering on the dusty mantle above, casting a warm glow upon the cold stone walls. They sat on a bench carved from a single piece of marble, their naked forms a testament to the beauty of brute strength. The candlelight played across their muscled chests, the shadows highlighting the contours of their abs and the proud mounds of their pectorals.

    Heracles leaned back, his thick erection jutting upwards like a sword drawn from its sheath, the veins pulsing with the rhythm of his heart. Samson’s eyes followed the line of his member, his own arousal thickening in response. He reached out, tracing a calloused finger along the shaft, feeling the warmth and power beneath the skin. Heracles shivered, a low moan rumbling from his chest as he closed his eyes, savoring the touch of another who knew the burdens of legend. The air grew thick with desire, the scent of sweat and male lust mingling with the faint aroma of the tavern’s ale.

    Their gazes locked once more, and in that moment, the weight of their storied pasts seemed to lift, replaced by a shared present that promised a future filled with passion and connection. Samson leaned in, his breath warm against Heracles’ bearded cheek, and pressed their lips together in a kiss that was both gentle and fierce—a kiss that bridged the gap between divine and mortal, hero and legend. Their tongues danced a battle as old as time itself, a dance of power and submission, of strength and vulnerability. The bench creaked as they shifted closer, their erections now touching, the precursor to a union that would shake the very foundation of the mortal world.

    Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, exploring the valleys and peaks of muscle, the scars of battles long-forgotten, and the warmth of flesh that pulsed with the promise of pleasure. Heracles wrapped a massive arm around Samson’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he took the lead, his other hand cupping the back of the strongman’s head to deepen their kiss. Samson responded eagerly, his hands exploring the expanse of Heracles’ chest, feeling the thud of his heart in time with his own. As they kissed, their cocks grew harder, the anticipation of what was to come a delicious torment that made their skin tingle and their breath come in ragged gasps.

    Their passion grew with every passing second, a fiery need that consumed them as surely as the sun had once consumed the chariot of Helios. They stood, their bodies pressing together, their erections now slick with pre-cum and desire. Heracles broke the kiss, panting, and whispered into Samson’s ear, “Let us show these mortals what true strength is.” With that, they moved in unison, their massive forms a blur of power and passion as they claimed the space before them. The tavern faded away, the only world that mattered now the one they were about to create together, a world where the mightiest of heroes could find refuge in each other’s arms.

    Their kiss grew more urgent as they moved, Heracles guiding Samson to a nearby table, the wood groaning under their combined weight. They pushed aside the mugs and plates, their eyes never leaving each other’s as they positioned themselves, legs entwined, their cocks now mere inches apart. The tension was palpable, a living entity that crackled in the air like lightning before a storm. And as the first drops of rain began to fall outside, echoing the rhythm of their pounding hearts, they aligned their shafts and thrust together, unleashing a roar that seemed to shake the very heavens.

    Their bodies moved in a dance as ancient as the stars above, each stroke a declaration of war against the loneliness that had plagued them for millennia. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the air, a symphony of desire that drowned out the mundane noises of the tavern. The patrons watched, transfixed, as the two heroes claimed their moment of passion, the air around them charged with an energy that could only be described as divine.

    Heracles reached down, wrapping his hand around their joined members, his grip firm and sure. He began to stroke in time with their rhythm, his thumb brushing over the sensitive heads of their cocks, sending shivers of pleasure up their spines. Samson’s eyes widened, his breath coming in harsh pants as he felt the power of their union, a force that could have moved mountains now focused solely on their mutual pleasure. His own hand found Heracles’ ass, squeezing the firm muscles as he urged the hero to take him deeper.

    Their movements grew more erratic, hips bucking and thrusting with a ferocity that mirrored the battles they had once fought side by side. The table creaked and moaned beneath them, threatening to give way to the force of their passion. The scent of sweat and man filled the small space, a heady aroma that only served to inflame their desires further. Heracles’ eyes never left Samson’s, his gaze intense and filled with a hunger that was matched only by the need reflected in the other man’s eyes.

    Their orgasm was a thing of beauty, a culmination of strength and passion that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth. With a roar that could have brought down the walls of Troy, Heracles spilled his seed, the warmth of it mingling with Samson’s as it coated their stomachs and chests. The biblical giant followed suit, his own release a testament to the power that lay within him. For a moment, time itself seemed to pause as they reveled in the aftermath of their union, their hearts pounding in unison.

    As they came down from the peak of their pleasure, their breathing ragged and their muscles trembling with exhaustion, they shared a look that spoke of more than just physical release. It was a look that held the promise of companionship, of understanding, and of a bond that transcended the confines of their mythical pasts. They kissed once more, a gentle meeting of lips that held all the tenderness they had denied themselves for so long.

    The tavern patrons, who had watched the spectacle with a mix of awe and arousal, erupted into applause and cheers. The barkeep brought over two fresh mugs of ale, setting them on the now-sturdy table with a knowing wink. “To new beginnings,” Heracles murmured, raising his mug in a toast. Samson clinked his own mug against it, a smile playing upon his lips. “And to the end of our solitude,” he added, his eyes gleaming with the same fire that had brought down the walls of Jericho.

    Their laughter, deep and hearty, filled the room as they drank, their camaraderie growing stronger with every swig. The candle flickered lower, casting a warm, intimate glow upon their naked forms. The barkeep, ever the opportunist, cleared his throat. “If you two heroes are looking for some … private company, I can offer you a room upstairs, with a lock that’s as sturdy as the doors of Olympus itself.”

    Heracles and Samson exchanged glances, the unspoken question hanging in the air. The desire that had brought them to this moment was far from sated, and the idea of retreating to a more private setting was an alluring one. “A room it is,” Samson said, his voice low and husky with need. The barkeep nodded, leading them up a creaky staircase to a chamber at the end of a shadowy hallway. The room was small, but it held a large, inviting bed, the covers rumpled and welcoming.

    Once the door was firmly shut and the lock was in place, the two heroes turned to each other, their smoldering glances speaking volumes. They set aside their mugs and approached the bed, their steps heavy with purpose. With a gentle touch, Heracles pushed Samson down onto the soft mattress, the springs groaning beneath them. Their bodies collided again, a tangle of limbs and desire that seemed to ignite the very air around them.

    Their kisses grew deeper, more demanding, as Heracles’ massive hands explored the contours of Samson’s body, tracing the paths of his muscles and the valleys between. Samson’s own fingers danced over Heracles’ broad back, feeling the scars of battles and the warmth of his skin. They were more than just two legendary figures now; they were men, flesh and blood, craving the warmth and touch of another soul that understood their burdens.

    Heracles leaned down, his beard brushing against Samson’s chest hair as he took a pert nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. Samson arched his back, his eyes rolling back in his head as a moan of pleasure slipped from his lips. The sensation was exquisite, a reminder of the simple, human joys that had been so long denied to them both. Heracles’ hand traveled lower, cupping Samson’s firm ass, pulling him closer as he began to suck and nibble his way down the hero’s body.

    Samson’s own hand found its way to Heracles’ cock, now standing at attention once more, and he began to stroke it with a reverence reserved for the most sacred of artifacts. The Greek hero moaned, his eyes closing in ecstasy as Samson’s skilled touch worked its magic. They were lost in each other, the outside world forgotten as they sought to conquer the one final frontier that had eluded them both — the intimate connection of two souls bound by legend and fate.

    Their passion grew once more, the room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking — grunts and gasps, the slap of skin on skin, and the sweet, desperate cries that accompanied each peak of pleasure. The bed creaked and swayed beneath them, a testament to the power that surged through their veins. They rolled together, their bodies moving in a harmony that had been millennia in the making, each movement a declaration of trust and desire.

    As the candle burned lower, casting flickering shadows upon the walls, Heracles positioned himself above Samson, his cock poised at the entrance to the biblical giant’s body. With a gentle push, he entered, filling Samson with a warmth and fullness that was as much emotional as it was physical. They moved together now, the rhythm of their hips a silent promise to stand side by side in whatever battles life had in store for them next.

    Their eyes met, and in that moment, the weight of their storied pasts lifted away, leaving only the raw, unbridled passion of the present. They were no longer bound by the chains of destiny but by the unbreakable bond they had forged in the heat of the moment. As they reached their climax, their cries echoed through the room, a declaration of victory over the isolation that had been their constant companion for so long.

    Exhausted but sated, they collapsed into each other’s arms, their heavy panting the only sound in the candlelit room. The barkeeper had left them with a knowing smile, the promise of privacy hanging in the air like the scent of their love. The room was small but cozy, with a bed that had seen its fair share of patrons seeking refuge from the world outside. The sheets, though worn, were surprisingly clean, and the mattress dipped comfortably under their combined weight.

    Several hours passed, the candle now a puddle of wax on the nightstand, as the two heroes lay tangled in each other’s embrace. The steady rhythm of their breathing was the only music in the symphony of their slumber, a gentle reminder of the life that now flowed between them. The knock at the door was almost a surprise, jolting them from their peaceful reprieve. Heracles’ eyes snapped open, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword that was no longer at his side.

    Samson, ever the quicker to adapt, chuckled softly. “It’s just our host,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He nuzzled into the crook of Heracles’ neck, his hand idly tracing patterns on the broad expanse of his chest.

    “Would you like something, or … someone, to refresh yourselves with?” The barkeep’s voice was muffled but clear, and the implication was not lost on either of them.

    Heracles grunted an affirmative, his eyes never leaving Samson’s as he felt the other man’s body tense with excitement. They had shared battles, victory, and defeat, but never something quite so intimate as this. The nod passed between them, a silent understanding that this night was not yet over. Samson rolled out of bed, his naked form casting a shadow across the room. The chilly air kissed his skin, pebbling it with goosebumps, but the fire within him burned too brightly for him to feel the chill.

    The barkeep, a bear of a man, filled the doorway with his muscular frame. His bald head gleamed in the candlelight, and his full beard was as dark as the night outside. His chest was a landscape of hair and muscle, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that was both eager and respectful. Samson reached out, his hand wrapping around the man’s wrist, and with surprising grace for one so large, pulled him into the room.

    The barkeep’s name was Garrick, and he had watched the two heroes from afar, his own desires kindled by the heat of their passion. As the door clicked shut behind him, he licked his lips, his eyes traveling over their naked forms with the appreciation of one who knew the value of a good story. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he rumbled, his voice a deep bass that seemed to resonate through the very stones of the tavern.

    Heracles sat up, his own massive frame a picture of power and desire. “You are not,” he said, his voice a low purr. “We are simply two weary travelers in need of … companionship.” Garrick nodded, his eyes never leaving Heracles’ face as he approached the bed. His own nakedness was a declaration of intent, his erection proud and thick, a testament to his excitement.

    The three men moved together, their bodies a tapestry of muscle and sinew. They touched and explored, each finding in the others a kindred spirit, a fellow traveler on the road of legend and longing. The night was theirs, a stolen moment of pleasure in a world that had given them so little.

    Heracles reached out, his hand wrapping around Garrick’s thick cock, stroking it with a confidence born of countless battles. The barkeep gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head as the Greek hero brought him to the brink of ecstasy. The power that surged through Garrick’s veins was not that of a mere mortal, but of a man who had seen the very face of the gods and lived to tell the tale. His hand, calloused from a life of hard labor, trembled slightly as he reached for Samson, tracing the contours of his abs with a reverence that was almost holy.

    Samson took over, his own hand a blur as he stroked Garrick’s cock in a rhythm that seemed to match the beating of the tavern-master’s heart. The biblical giant’s eyes never left Heracles’, the connection between them as palpable as the sweat that coated their bodies. They kissed again, a dance of tongues that grew more urgent as the barkeep’s breath grew ragged. The scent of their arousal filled the air, a potent perfume that seemed to intoxicate them all the more.

    Heracles positioned himself behind Garrick, his own cock thick and slick with need. With a gentle push, he entered the barkeep, filling him with a warmth that seemed to spread through every inch of his being. The barkeep groaned, his hips bucking backward to meet the Greek hero’s powerful thrusts. Meanwhile, Samson took Garrick’s mouth in a kiss that was both tender and demanding, his own erection pressing against Heracles’ abs as he moved with the rhythm of their shared pleasure.

    Their passion grew, a crescendo of flesh and desire that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the tavern. The bed groaned in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with their movements. The only sounds were the slaps of skin on skin, the harsh pants of their breathing, and the low, guttural moans that slipped from their lips. Each stroke was a promise, each touch a declaration of a bond that was as unbreakable as the chains that had once bound Prometheus to his rock.

    Their climaxes were like the roar of a thousand lions, shaking the room and leaving them all trembling with the aftershocks. They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and their spent sperm. The candle flickered out, plunging the room into darkness, but the warmth of their bodies and the glow of their hearts was enough to illuminate the space.

    As the night grew old and the first light of dawn crept through the window, they slept, their bodies entwined. The shadows of their pasts had been banished, replaced by the warm embrace of the present. In each other, they had found a home, a place where the weight of their destinies was lighter, where the whispers of legend could not touch them. And as the tavern awoke to a new day, they knew that together, they could face whatever fate had in store, for they had conquered the most formidable foe of all — the loneliness that had haunted them for so long.

    Garrick, ever the thoughtful host, slipped out of bed and began to prepare a hearty breakfast. He gathered eggs, freshly slaughtered bacon, and a loaf of bread still warm from the oven. The smell of frying meat and sizzling onions wafted through the tavern, a siren’s call to the slumbering heroes. He filled a tray with the feast, adding a few apples picked from his garden, and brought it back to the room.

    Heracles and Samson stirred, their eyes blinking open to see the barkeep’s smiling face framed by the golden light of dawn. They sat up, their muscular forms casting deep shadows against the rumpled sheets. Garrick set the tray down on the bed, the food steaming and the flagons of water beading with condensation. The two heroes took the sustenance gratefully, their hunger for more than just food evident in their ravenous bites.

    With their stomachs sated, the trio felt the call of nature. They rose from the bed, their cocks still thick with the remnants of their passion, and made their way downstairs to the tavern’s back door. The cool air outside was a shock to their system, but it served to wake them fully. Behind the tavern, a small river meandered, the water clear and inviting. They stepped out into the morning light, their naked forms casting long shadows upon the dew-kissed grass.

    The water was cold, a bracing shock that brought color to their cheeks and a gasp to their lips. They waded into the river, the chilly liquid swirling around their legs, cleaning away the stickiness of their passionate night. The river was shallow enough for them to stand, the water lapping at their thighs as they relieved themselves. The moment was oddly intimate, a shared experience that deepened the bond that had been forged in the heat of their lust.

    They washed one another with gentle strokes, the water washing away not just the sweat and cum but also the dust of centuries. The sun rose higher in the sky, casting its warm glow upon their wet, gleaming skin. Heracles took Samson’s hand, and together, they stepped out of the river, their legs shaking slightly from the cold. Garrick handed them towels, his own gaze lingering on the sight of their powerful forms.

    The three of them stood there, the morning light painting their bodies in hues of gold and shadow. They were an unlikely trio — a Greek demigod, a biblical giant, and a tavern-keep — but in that moment, they were bound by something far stronger than the threads of fate. They had shared in the sacred rite of pleasure, and in doing so, had found a kinship that would stand the test of time.

    Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. This was not the end of their story but the beginning of a new chapter — one written not in the annals of history but in the hearts of those who dared to live beyond the pages of their legend. With a nod to each other, they turned back to the tavern, ready to face whatever the day might bring, together.

    Back in their room, Garrick wasted no time in voicing his most audacious desire. His cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves, he looked from Heracles to Samson and back again. “Might I ask a favor, my heroic friends?” His voice was a soft rumble, a gentle plea that seemed almost out of place coming from such a powerful man.

    Heracles and Samson exchanged glances, their expressions a blend of curiosity and anticipation. “Name it,” Heracles said, his hand absently stroking his cock, which was already beginning to swell once more.

    “I would like …” Garrick took a deep breath, his eyes flickering between their erect members, “I would like to take both of you … inside me.” His voice was barely a whisper, but the room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of their reply.

    The heroes shared a moment of surprised silence before grinning in unison. It was an offer they could not refuse, and one that promised an experience that would be talked about for centuries to come. Without a word, Heracles lay back on the bed, his head hanging slightly over the edge. Samson mirrored him, their legs spread wide and their cocks standing tall, the tips touching and leaving a line of pre-cum that gleamed in the candlelight.

    Garrick climbed onto the bed, his own cock standing proud and eager. He straddled the two heroes, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath, bracing himself as he began to lower himself onto their erections. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before, the pressure and heat of their shafts stretching him wide. The tavern-keep’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt himself being filled, inch by glorious inch, by the legendary might of Heracles and Samson.

    The process was slow, each man taking his time to allow Garrick’s body to adjust to the unprecedented fullness. The barkeep’s moans grew louder, his body shaking with the effort to accommodate their combined girth. His hands gripped the bedpost, knuckles white, as he pushed down further and further.

    Finally, with a gasp, he was fully seated, his ass cheeks resting against the tops of their thighs. The room was filled with the sound of their collective breathing, the only movement the subtle twitch of their cocks within him. Heracles and Samson watched with hungry eyes, their own passion rekindled by the sight of their power joined with Garrick’s willingness.

    With a nod to each other, they began to move, their hips rising and falling in an alternating rhythm that seemed as ancient as the tales of their exploits. It took a few moments for them to find the perfect tempo, their movements tentative at first, but soon, they were thrusting in unison, their cocks sliding in and out of Garrick’s tight embrace. The barkeep threw his head back, his moans turning to cries of pleasure as he felt himself being claimed by the very essence of legend.

    Their pace grew steadier, the sound of their flesh slapping together a testament to their shared power. Heracles’ eyes never left Samson’s, the intensity of their gaze speaking volumes of the bond they had formed. They were no longer just two heroes and a tavern-keep but a trio of lovers, bound by a passion that defied the very fabric of myth and time.

    As they found their rhythm, the room grew hotter, the air thick with desire and the scent of their arousal. The bed creaked and groaned beneath them, a symphony of passion that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the tavern. Garrick’s cries grew louder, his body writhing with the pleasure of their dual assault. He felt himself being torn apart and remade anew, his very soul alight with the fire of their union.

    The tension grew, a palpable force that seemed to crackle in the air. Heracles and Samson could feel their climax approaching, a shared crescendo that would shake the very earth. And as they reached the pinnacle together, their sperm spilling into Garrick’s willing body, they knew that they had transcended their legends — they had become something more, something greater.

    The barkeep’s orgasm was unlike any he had ever experienced before. It was as if the very essence of their power had been transmitted into him, his seed erupting in a fountain that painted their chests and faces, a declaration of their unity. His body spasmed, his muscles clenching around their cocks in a symphony of pleasure that seemed to last an eternity. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his cries of ecstasy filled the small chamber, echoing through the halls of the tavern like the final battle cry of a fallen king.

    As the last tremors of their passion faded, the three men collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and sated sighs. The sticky warmth of their combined release coated their skin, a reminder of the sacred act they had shared. The candle had long since burned down to a nub, leaving only the soft glow of early morning light to illuminate the room. They lay there, their hearts beating in time with the slow, steady pulse of their exhaion.

    Their breathing grew deep and even, the sound of sleep claiming them once more. This time, however, it was a sleep filled with peace, a sleep that promised dreams of a future where they could be more than just the echoes of their past glories. As their breathing synched, the only sound in the room was the soft snores of three men who had found refuge in each other’s arms.

    Heracles reached out, his hand finding Samson’s, their fingers entwining in a silent pact. They had conquered monsters and armies, but in this small tavern, they had conquered something far more elusive — the emptiness that had haunted them for so long. And as they drifted off into slumber, the warmth of their bodies melded into one, the promise of new adventures and shared passions waiting just beyond the horizon of their dreams.

    The tavern grew quiet once more, the outside world momentarily forgotten as the heroes slept. The sun continued to rise, casting a gentle light upon their naked forms. It was a new day, a new chapter in a story that had been millennia in the making. And as the light grew stronger, so too did their bond, a beacon of hope in a world that had seen far too much darkness.

    Their slumber was not to last, however. The sounds of the tavern awakening — the clang of pots and pans, the murmur of early patrons — began to seep into the chamber, a gentle reminder that the world outside continued to spin. But even as they stirred from their embrace, the memory of their union remained, a warmth in their hearts that would not soon fade. They knew that they had found something rare and precious, a connection that transcended the confines of their legendary lives.

    They rose from the bed, their muscles protesting with the sweet ache of satisfaction. The room was a mess of discarded clothing and rumpled bedding, but they paid it no mind. Instead, they moved with purpose, their eyes meeting once more as they prepared to face the day. Garrick, ever the gracious host, offered them a warm smile, his eyes gleaming with a newfound respect and affection.

    The trio descended the stairs, the tavern’s patrons staring in awe at the sight of the legendary heroes, their naked forms a testament to the power of love and lust. They took their usual table, their presence a silent declaration that they were more than mere figures of myth. They were men, with desires and hearts as boundless as the sea.

    As they broke their fast on the simple fare Garrick had prepared, they talked of the days ahead. The battles they would fight, the love they would share, and the stories they would create. Their futures were uncertain, but in each other, they had found a strength that could move mountains. And as they feasted on the spoils of their victory over solitude, they knew that together, they were invincible.

    With their bellies full and spirits high, the time to part was upon them. Garrick, his eyes shimmering with a mix of joy and sorrow, took each of them in a firm embrace, whispering his thanks for a night that had surpassed even his wildest imaginings. His heart swelled with hope as he spoke the words that had been simmering within him since the first light of dawn. “If you’d have me, I wish to journey with you. To see the world through the eyes of legends, to share in your battles and your bed.”

    Heracles and Samson exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken understanding passing between them like a silent nod of the head. This mortal man, whose heart was as mighty as the pillars of Hercules, had offered them a gift greater than gold — companionship. A bond that could weather the storms of fate and the ravages of time. They nodded in unison, their smiles wide and genuine. “We’d be honored to have you at our side,” Heracles said, his deep voice resonating with the warmth of the sun that had just crested the horizon.

    The tavern-keep’s face lit up like a beacon, and he rushed off to gather his things, his words a jumble of excitement and disbelief. The other patrons watched with a mix of envy and confusion, not quite understanding the depth of the friendship that had been forged in the heat of passion and the cold light of day. Within moments, Garrick had returned, his pack slung over one shoulder, his gaze alight with the fire of adventure. He turned to the stunned faces of his employees, his voice filled with a newfound confidence. “I’m leaving,” he announced. “Tend to the tavern as you see fit. I go with heroes.”

    The trio stepped out into the early morning air, the sun’s warm embrace a symbol of the new life that awaited them. The dusty street lay before them, a canvas for their shared destiny. They walked side by side, their naked forms a testament to the unbridled passion they had shared and the unshackled futures they now embraced. With Garrick’s hand in theirs, they set forth, ready to conquer whatever lay ahead, be it mythical beasts or the simple joys of human connection.

    Their hearts swelled with purpose, and their cocks stirred with the promise of future conquests, both of the flesh and the spirit. They had found in each other a kinship that not even the gods could have foreseen. And as they disappeared into the distance, the townsfolk whispered of the legendary heroes and the tavern-keep who had become something greater than the sum of their parts. A trio bound by love, lust, and a shared desire to live beyond the pages of their storied pasts.


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


  • School’s in!

    Chuck

    Of course, I had done my homework. The second Leo Green had left me in that abandoned storehouse in the middle of nowhere, I had taken out my phone, googled “how to suck cock” and spent the whole three-mile walk back home reading every website in which that this phrase, and all the possible variations of it, would come up. And, I have to say, it had been an extremely educational walk, as well as a very long one. For once the fact that my parents were never home wasn’t such a bad thing, since I really didn’t have much explaining to do when I showed up at unusual hours. But the reading I had done hadn’t even begun to quench my seemingly inexhaustible thirst of knowledge on the subject. I had rarely shown that kind of interest towards anything before. But blowjobs… Well, now that I had tried one, I wanted to know everything about it. The tongue-work, the pressure, the movement of your neck, the way you need to open your throat, the use of your hands. After a few hours my head was just about to explode, and so was my dick, by the way. Oh, yeah, and I was drooling so bad a fucking bulldog would have been impressed! I’m not kidding! My mouth would start watering the second I thought of Leo’s face, let alone his dick! And, little by little, I began to realize what later would have become crystal clear to me: nothing beats practice. All the websites suggested I’d do that anyways, so I stood up, marched downstairs, went to the kitchen and started rummaging into the fridge. Cucumbers were the best choice, I figured. So I took one and ran back upstairs.

    As I sat down at my desk it kinda dawned on me that I hadn’t even thought about what had happened that afternoon from a different point of view. Was I ok with it? I mean, don’t get me wrong: of course that had been, hands down, the most incredibly exciting thing that had ever happened to me and the more I thought about it the more my dick would pulse. I had already jerked off twice, playing the whole scene in my head over and over and still I was harder than ever, which was all fine and fucking dandy! But the guy hadn’t exactly proposed to me jumping down from a white horse on one knee, had he? What he wanted was extremely practical: a cocksucker on call. It was as simple as that. And he hadn’t even tried to sugar coat it in any way. Quite the opposite actually. He had been brutally honest about it and had pretty much gone like ‘this is what I want, take it or leave it, fag!’. So the ball was uncomfortably in my court now. And the question lingered. Was I or was I not ok with being his cocksucker on call? I sighed, looking at the cold cucumber in my hand. It was a troublesome question that had no easy answer, especially considering that most of my blood was rushing down between my legs, leaving me a little light-headed. Something was gnawing at my conscience and I suddenly got pissed with it because it was sucking all the fun and the excitement out of that moment. No pun intended. I scratched my head and let the thought mull over in my mind. Unfortunately the only thing that was clear and actually made sense  is that I wanted Leo’s dick in my mouth again, and I wanted it so fucking bad it hurt.

    With a pang of shame nipping at my stomach I went back to one of the webpages I had saved, read the exercise I was supposed to master, opened my mouth and slid in the cucumber.

    Leo

    “Bullshit! For real?” Ace exclaimed, impressed.

    “Yep, we did it in the backseat of my mom’s car!” Chris replied pretty smugly, throwing a football in the air and catching it while walking in the halls of Central High during recess.

    “Man, this is so fucking unfair!” replied ginger, frustrated.

    “Chill out, dude!” I said to him like it was no big deal and probably sounding just as smug as Chris.

    “Easy for you to say!” Ace shot back, then lowered his voice to a whisper “I’m still a fucking virgin and you both have done it loads of times!” he vented. It was true. I had shagged my girlfriend every single time she’d let me in the previous two months since I had popped her cherry and when she hadn’t been in the mood… Well, her friend Cindy had been pretty helpful, even though we hadn’t actually done it… yet. I know, pretty impressive, huh? And as for Chris, he was a total stud. The chick he’d been dating had finally spread her legs for him like six months before so I kinda understood Ace’s frustration at the time. I actually felt a little sorry for him, we had been buddies for the longest time after all.

    “Ah, don’t worry about it!” Chris said, putting his arm around Ace’s shoulder “I’m sure Emma will put out after the game, on Saturday!”

    “Yeah, man! You just gotta pressure her like I did with Donna!” I put my two cents in “Tell her you got needs and if she doesn’t wanna have sex, well… you’ll find someone who does!”

    “Yeah, tell her that chick begged you to fuck her! What’s her name, again?” Chris asked as we got out in the quad.

    “Taylor Amblin.” I said chuckling, “AKA the school cumdump, hahaha!” We all laughed. Again, it was true. She was a total whore who would pretty much let anyone stick their dicks inside her, you just had to ask nicely. There were rumors around that she had been fucked even by some of the faculty. Pretty crazy shit if you ask me, but whatever.

    “Fuck you guys, this is not funny! All she does is jerk me off, she won’t even try to give me head!” Ace vented, sitting down angrily on a bench in the shades.

    “Well, it’s not like you haven’t gotten your dick sucked like a zillion times, dude!” I said with a tone that could definitely qualify as a little taunting. Chris snickered.

    “Yeah, by fags!” ginger snorted “That doesn’t count for shit, man! They’re just… fags, for fuck’s sakes!”

    He was right, of course but that didn’t stop me and Chris from cracking up.

    “Haha! He’s got a point there!” Chris stated, regaining control. “Look, man, we’re not kidding here!” He sat on the table opposite me and Ace “Just fucking scare the shit out of her already! If she feels threatened, she’ll probably give in and if she doesn’t you can dump her ass and find a new chick!”

    “Couldn’t have said it better myself!” I agreed.

    Ace still looked a little unconvinced but then Chris added:

    “C’mon dude! Don’t pussy out on us!” which made the both of us laugh.

    “Screw you!” Ace flipped us off “Fine, I’ll do it!”

    “Nah, do her instead, man!”

    We all cackled.

    Recess was almost over when I noticed the little faggot from the warehouse staring at me like a stupid puppy. He was standing by a tree not too far from us, trying real hard to look invisible, alone like a dog and when our eyes met he looked down after like seconds, embarrassed as fuck.

    I couldn’t help but snicker as the three of us stood up and walked back inside the building.

    “Nice…” I smirked.

    Chuck

    I was going crazy. No, I’m not being overdramatic! I was experiencing serious hell. I had spent an entire week waiting for Leo to call me, text me, talk to me at school, anything! Of course, I knew that last one was nothing more than wishful thinking on my part, but whatever. I was checking my phone every five seconds and it was so not like me. I wasn’t the kind of kid who cares about stuff like that. Actually I wasn’t the kind of kid who cares about anything, really. Or had been, I guess. Whatever… I wasn’t mentally prepared for… that… I found myself stalking the guy at school and even stayed behind to watch his football practice in the afternoon, for fuck’s sakes! Football! I mean, I hate football! That was pretty fucked up, right? This whole thing was turning into an obsession.

    Obviously, the fact that he wouldn’t acknowledge my existence in any way, didn’t help one bit. He wouldn’t even look in my direction. What was up with that? I mean, I get it! He was one of the jocks, a popular kid with a million friends and he couldn’t be seen talking to a ‘nobody’, that was fine. I had made my peace with the way school dynamics work years before. But, I mean, he could have looked at me at least, right? No one was gonna judge him for that! I would have even settled for a derisive smirk or a push against the lockers, at least it would have been something. I wanted him to notice me. I’m sorry to repeat myself but just bare with me: this was so unlike me. I had always wanted to be invisible; a shadow people don’t even look at. And now that I was good at it, I didn’t want it anymore. Awesome, huh? Needless to say, school sucked even more than usual because of that. And to make matters worse my math teacher’s personality had done a 180 over-fucking-night! It was like he had it in for me! What had I ever done to him? He had gone from being an ok guy to a straight up asshole with me, just with me! And I had no idea why! I got a D- and an F on top of the totally unfair one-week-detention I had gotten and all I was doing in class was… yep, you guessed it! Trying to be invisible, like I always did!

    Sebastian

    I hated that kid! I couldn’t even stand looking at him. That pasty face, mousy presence and completely unremarkable features. Who the hell did he think he was? Waltzing in here to steal my teenage gods from me just when my life was finally making sense? I was so damn happy, now! So much happier than I’d ever been. And he was the one standing in the way of that happiness. He was the one who had the means to take it away. That little shit! Oh, but he was gonna pay for it, I was gonna make sure of that!

    Naturally, there was nothing I could do about my masters’ plan to make him their new toy. It was their superior-straight-boy birthright, after all. And I wasn’t even sure if they were actually gonna go through with it considering that it had been over ten days since they had mentioned his stupid name. On the other hand, my gods didn’t spend that much time with me these days, so how could I know for sure? And that’s precisely why I was gonna do everything in my power to make the kid’s life a living hell!

    “Walsh!” I barked and saw him standing up from the back of the classroom. He walked towards me with a pained expression which only deepened when he saw how I had graded his paper.

    “Well done, genius.” I said through gritted teeth.

    “But… but… sir… an F… really? Again?” he groaned “What did I do wrong?”

    I found myself smile a cold smile and jeered:

    “Oh, that’s an easy one: everything!” and turned to the next kid.

    Ace

    “…and then bam! All of a sudden she was sucking on my fucking dick!” I bellowed, super proud.

    “Yeah, bro! That’s what I’m talking about!” Chris fist bumped me, smirking.

    “At least it’s progress!” laughed Leo, punching me on the shoulder.

    We had just finished practice and we were walking out of the locker rooms, our hair still damp after showering.

    “Fuck yeah!” I smirked back at them.

    “You gotta start listening to us more, man! We told you it would work!” Chris snickered, smug as fuck.

    “Hear, hear!!” Echoed Leo, copying his tone.

    “Yeah, yeah, whatever!” I joked even though I knew they were right. They always seemed to know a little more than I did, probably because they were both definitely smarter than me. But I knew they always had my back.

    “And how was it?” Leo asked curiously.

    Ouch! Now that was an uncomfortable question because the honest answer would have been something like ‘Ok, I guess…’

    “Well…” I hesitated.

    “Yeah, I figured.” Leo put his hand on my shoulder, like he simply knew “Don’t worry, man! Happened to the best of us!”

    “Yeah… I mean it’s great that she tried and all but… like…” I hesitated “…no one sucks dick like your bro’s bitch!” I vented to Chris.

    “Hehe! You got that right, but just give her a little time, dude!” Chris reassured me.

    “Yeah, you just gotta make her practice non stop, bro! Haha!” Leo cackled, pushing an imaginary head against his crotch.

    “Hahaha! Hey, why don’t you make FagEd give her a few pointers?” Chris suggested.

    “Yeah, he’s the cocksucking king, after all!” Leo agreed and we all laughed.

    “Speaking of fags…” Chris mused, then “Green, ain’t that your little boyfriend?”

    We all noticed the skinny kid standing nervously next to Leo’s car in the parking lot and no doubt, it was the sissy queer we had decided to turn into our next toy.

    “Well, well… he finally cracked!” Leo snickered, “This should be interesting.”

    Chuck

    Now that I saw him strutting towards the car with his buddies, I wasn’t so sure anymore. My heart was pounding in my chest and my palms were sweaty. Was he gonna get mad at me for speaking to him? Well… maybe. But I mean, I just wanted to say hi… and maybe… I don’t know what I was expecting to be honest. For god’s sake he was even a year younger than me and it’s not like I was breaking a rule, right? Besides, I had to do something. I was off the deep end just waiting and waiting… It had been ten days already. I just wanted to remind him that I was there if he wanted to and I was ready and super willing to suck his cock anytime of day and for as long as he needed me to!

    They were getting closer and closer. I could actually make out what they were talking about, now. Football. Shocker, huh? Oh, and by the way, how come gorgeous guys always go together? I wondered if they simply look for each other before they decide to become friends. He was with a ginger-haired boy, I think his name was Ace something or other. And then of course everybody knew Chris Hansson, richest kid in town, blond chick magnet, star of the football team. From what I understood they were his best buds and all three of them were everything a teenage boy could hope to be. Dead hot, uber athletic, super cool and with so much swag I felt like I didn’t even belong to the same species, for fuck’s sake! I was none of those things.

    “…and I just knew it was the only way to score that point, man!”

    “Yeah totally, bro!”

    “And did you see the look on Maky’s face?”

    “Yeah, he totally wanted to pummel you, dude!”

    “I know!! It was fucking hilarious! Haha!”

    ‘Here goes nothing’ was the last thing I said to myself before opening my mouth and going:

    “Uhm… Leo…”

    The extremely intimidating trio turned to me almost in unison. We were six feet apart and I thought for a second I was gonna piss my pants.

    Leo frowned, a blank expression on his sexy latino face. Then he replied with a voice almost filled with disgust:

    “Who the fuck are you?”

    “Uhm… I… I…” I stammered. I couldn’t bring myself to articulate anything more than that. Which made them crack up a little viciously.

    “C’mon man, we’re gonna be late!” Ace elbowed Leo, still snickering.

    “Yeah…” he replied, smirking, passing a hand through his mane of jet-black hair. Then he added “Loser”.

    They opened the car doors, cackling. They got in and just like that, they were gone.

    Chris

    “Hahahaha!!” The guys and I couldn’t stop laughing our balls off after that stupid queer had tried to talk to Leo.

    “Oh, man! Hahaha!! He fucking looked like his mom had died! Hahaha!!”

    “Yeah! Told ya! I knew he was hooked the second he smelled my junk, hahaha!!”

    “Fucking faggot! Hahaha!!”

    “So, what do we do, now?” Ace asked us.

    “It’s Leo’s call, man!” I replied “He was the one who found this little piggy, hehe!”

    Leo smirked. I liked that smirk; it usually meant a lot of fun.

    “Alright, I’mma let Cumbreath bawl over me till…” he mused “…well, at least tomorrow.”

    “Haha! Yeah, bro!” I said.

    “Then, I’m gonna have a nice long chat with our little Chucky, hehehe!!”

    “Awh, man! I actually feel sorry for him, hahaha!!” Ace guffawed.

    “Hahaha! Yeah, sucks to be a faggot! Hahaha!” 

    “And which one are you gonna teach him?” I was so fucking curious.

    “Mmmm… I’m thinking 1, 5 and 6…” he replied, smirking.

    “What? Three of them? You wanna break him right off the bat?” Ace sounded surprised and amused at the same time, and to be honest so was I.

    “Nah… he can handle it!” Leo assured confidently, then shrugged “And if he can’t… Well, he’s just a faggot, right? We’ll have to find ourselves another one, won’t we?”

    “Hahahaha! Fuck yeah!”

    Chuck

    How can I describe the way I felt? It’s difficult, really. I’m not used to feeling… stuff. I didn’t think it was even possible but I had been totally crushed by that encounter and I couldn’t understand why. Quite frankly, what I had experienced in that parking lot had pretty much been my life at school up till then. I had been ignored. So what? Big deal! Like I said, it was my daily bread. But that doesn’t change the fact that I had spent hours moping around, locked in my room. I had even burst into tears, like five hundred times, out of frustration and sadness and I had pretty much spent the night biting my nails and trying to ignore my stomach ache.

    When morning came, I was a wreck. My eyes were puffy and red and now both my stomach and my head throbbed with pain. And I had to go to school. Great. Just great.

    When the bell rang last period I couldn’t wait to get to my bike, go home and wallow in self-pity a little more. But when I got there Leo Green, in flesh and blood, was waiting for me, sitting on the hood of his car, right in front of my bike. My mouth went dry. Of course, he had to look stupid gorgeous as ever and of course, my knees buckled, mostly because the expression on that stunning face was not a happy one. The only thing he said to me when I got close enough was “Get in the car.”

    He didn’t speak a single word during the drive. I was getting a little scared but the thought of breaking that silence felt way worse. Besides, I knew where we were going. I recognized the road. When we got to the warehouse he parked, turned off the engine and barked: “Get out.”

    I obeyed and as I saw him walk around to my side, dangerously scowling towards me, I knew something bad was about to happen. And then he slapped me so hard right across the face I ended up on the ground with a deaf ‘thump’.

    “What the fuck is wrong with you, faggot?!” he yelled. My face stung. I had tears in my eyes.

    “I… I… I’m sorry…” I managed to stutter, my heart racing.

    “You think you can just talk to me like you know me?” He kicked one of my legs “In front of everybody?” he kicked me again “Huh?!” he shouted.

    “I’m sorry Leo, I… I… just wanted to…” I tried to explain, gripping his leg, begging him to listen.

    “What?” he growled. All the anxiety, all the frustration I had been holding inside in the past ten days came out like an avalanche.

    “I’m… sooorryyyyy…” and the waterwork began big fucking time.

    “Great, now the sissy’s crying!” I heard him mutter, somewhere between angry and entertained.

    I couldn’t stop myself. It was one of those drama queen kinda scenes, stuff I had always hated and the last thing I wanted was for him to see me like that. I heard him light a cigarette and, in a minute or so, I was calming down somewhat.

    “Hey…” his voice sounded different now. Not so angry anymore. I felt his foot nudge my leg and I turned around to see him staring down at me “You done crying?” he asked, blowing out smoke. I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand and, to my surprise, he held his hand down “C’mon, get up. Let’s get inside.”

    He helped me to my feet and I gingerly followed him, overwhelmed and very confused, inside that same run-down building.

    When we got into the small office, he got comfortable in the same tilting chair and

    simply looked at me. I instinctively sat down on the floor in front of him. His hazel eyes boring into me were making me extremely uneasy.

    “Leo… I didn’t mean to make you mad… I… I just…” I hesitated.

    “C’mon, fag! Out with it!” he ‘encouraged’ me.

    “Well… I… just really wanted to do it again…” I said meekly.

    “Do what again?” he had a satisfied little smirk.

    “You… you know… what we did the other day…” I replied, frowning.

    “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific…” he insisted.

    “The blowjob…” I said quietly and his smirk widened.

    “Hehe! Well done, fag!” he mocked me and I looked down “So you couldn’t wait to put my dick back in your mouth, huh?” he asked.

    “Yeah…” I replied in a small voice.

    He took a puff and exhaled slowly. He was so at ease; I could tell he had complete control of the situation. The exact opposite of what I was feeling.

    “Look, we need to make a few things clear here, ‘cause I think you got the wrong idea.” he stated, scratching one of his cheeks “So open your sissy ears and listen up real good!”

    “O… ok…” I continued, swallowing hard and preparing for… what? A scolding?

    “Now here’s what you gotta understand, fag! You see, this whole cocksucking thing is on my terms and my terms only!” he explained, flicking his cig on the ground “That’s how it works! You’re here to make ME feel good, not the other way around!

    Which means I call you whenever the hell I wanna dump a load in that hole you got on your fag face! Period!” brutal honesty, as always. I was a little petrified by that statement even though it was nothing different from what he had told me the previous time. Just maybe with a little more force.

    “Y… yeah… I… I know that…” I managed to say.

    “Do you? Cause it don’t look like it!” he replied, annoyed, raising an eyebrow.

    “Well… I… you see, I really liked… doing it…”

    “For fuck’s sakes, you can say ‘sucking your dick’, fag! Your mommy’s not around!” Making fun of me came extremely natural to him. I must have blushed so badly.

    “Right…” I murmured. He was being a bit meaner than the first time we had spoken “I really liked sucking your dick…” I admitted “You see, you made me realize that I’m actually gay so I…”

    “Oh, man! We really do need to start from the basics, don’t we?” he cut me off and I frowned a little.

    “Uhm… what do you…”

    “Alright, first of all, stop with this ‘gay’ bullshit.” he said it mimicking a feminine voice on the word’ gay’ “You are a faggot!” he explained “A queer, a sissy, a homo, a fairy, a cocksucker, a cum guzzler or any of the other names in the fucking book, man! Accept it cause it’s what you are and the sooner you start calling yourself that, the better!”

    I was stunned. I had never met anyone so self confident and bossy in their… What was it? Homophobia? Really?

    “But… I…”

    “Say it!” he cut me off again.

    “What?”

    “I want you to say it! Tell me what you are!” He encouraged me. It was crazy of course.

    “Look, I…” but he wouldn’t hear it.

    “Fucking tell me what you are!” he repeated impatiently, blowing smoke into my face. I coughed uncomfortably. There was only one answer he wanted to hear and my mind ended up going with a: ‘Oh, what the hell…’

    “I’m a faggot…” I stated.

    “What was that?” he put his hand to his ear, smirking again.

    “I’m a faggot!” I said, much louder.

    “Good boy!” he snickered, “What else?”

    I swallowed.

    “I’m… I’m a homo… and a sissy queer… a ball licker…” every name I called out he cackled louder and louder which weirdly made me want to come up with another one “…a cocksucker, a pussyboy, a… a… a cum eater…” Leo was positively cracking up.

    “Hahahaha!!! That’s fucking awesome, fag! Hahaha!! Don’t you feel better already?” he asked laughing and I couldn’t help but smile bashfully.

    “I guess…” I admitted. He stood up from the chair and towered over me.

    “Remember, all these names are fucking PERFECT for you, you hear?!” He slapped me playfully a few times.

    “Y… yes… ok…”

    “And now that we got that out of the way, here comes lesson number two!” he smirked even more widely. “You wanna know why this whole thing is ONLY on MY terms?”

    I looked up at that lush mane of messy raven hair. Man, how could a boy be so fucking hot?  And his broken voice… fuck, it was music to my ears.

    “Yeah…” I replied, eagerly wanting him to keep talking.

    “Cause I’m straight and you’re a faggot!” he said like he was explaining two plus two.

    “Uhm… o…k…” I frowned, confused. He smirked.

    “You don’t get it, do you?” he mocked me “Well, let’s face it! You think I’m hot as fuck, right?” it wasn’t a real question but I nodded anyways “I barely know you exist.” he said shrugging carelessly. A pang of pain gutted me. There was no trace of remorse in his eyes. I swallowed and tried to keep looking at him. He blew in some smoke, then added “And let me guess, you’ve been thinking about me and my dick every waking moment of every single day in the past… what’s it been, a week?”

    “Eleven days…” I said so quickly I almost didn’t let him finish. His smirk couldn’t have been more vicious.

    “Hehehe! Right!” He was beyond entertained. “Well, the only time I actually thought of you was to tell my bros how useless you are as a cocksucker.” And right there, my heart cracked a little.

    “What? You… you told them?” I asked incredulously.

    “Yeah, totally! Hehe!” he tittered nonchalantly “Oh and just so you know, they said and I quote: ‘fags are born to suck cock, there’s no way he could be that bad!’”

    It goes without saying that I was uncomfortable and didn’t know how to reply. There was silence for a moment, then he resumed.

    “Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole here, I’m just stating facts, man.” He tried to level with me. “The way I see it, I’m straight and I can go on fucking chicks and NEVER think of you ever again!” He explained. “But your fag brain needs to suck my cock or you’ll go crazy, and don’t even try to deny it, you know I’m right!” He paused as if daring me to disagree. Then he added “And in my book, that’s so fucking weak, man!”

    “It… it is?” It was difficult to maintain my composure. I wanted to scream in frustration, but I knew I wasn’t gonna. Part of me actually kinda wanted to agree with him.

    “Well, duh!! What kinda question is that?” he assured like it was a given. “And also I know everybody’s saying fags are just as normal as we are and shit but c’mon, let’s be serious!” he snorted “They’re just saying it to save face! You losers can’t even compare to us. We’re just better than you, really. Don’t you think?”

    Was that even something I was supposed to answer? What was he talking about? Did he actually mean what he was saying? What was that 1952, what the fuck?!?! But as much as my mind was racing, my mouth didn’t move. I kept blinking at him, speechless. He smirked.        

    “You don’t, do you?” he asked.

    I looked down and swallowed hard in response.

    “Alright, fine, let’s say I’m wrong…” He shrugged and threw himself on the chair again. I looked back up at him. He took yet another puff while staring down at me. Then, all at once he unzipped his jeans, lowered the front of his black off-brand boxers and his low hanging big balls and his flaccid cock were finally right there in front of me.

    My heart started to pump crazy amounts of blood instantly, which seemed to all go straight down to my dick. I got up on my knees, like I was ready to jump, kinda like a hungry dog. He scratched his balls shamelessly.

    “So…” he said with a smirk “Is this what you’ve been dreaming of…” He blew in some smoke “My dick? You still like it?”

    “Yes… very much…” I whispered immediately, staring so intently at that piece of meat my eyeballs were almost hurting.

    “C’mere!” he urged, almost sweetly.

    He certainly didn’t have to ask twice. As I got closer his hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and right when I was about to stick my tongue out and taste a piece of my personal heaven, he just said:

    “Sniff it!”

    I was two inches away from it, so close. And yet his voice had ordered me to wait. It actually felt like the hardest thing I’d ever had to do but I obediently closed my mouth, nuzzled his crotch and inhaled deeply. It was completely intoxicating. The sheer stink of that pungent masculinity was literally making me dizzy. Sweat, testosterone and sex… It was unbelievable. I held my breath for a few seconds. It was precious to me. So precious. And then I moaned with delight.

    Leo

    “Smell good?” You bet I was snickering, it was way too funny.

    “Yes… I love it…” he answered like he was in a fucking fag trance or something.

    “You sure? I mean, I got some pussy last night and really didn’t feel like showering this morning…” I sneered while he was snuffling even harder “…and then I squeezed in an early work out with the guys. It’s gotta be fucking nasty down there.”

    “N… no… I mean… yeah…it is… but it’s… so good…”

    That fucking sissy looked like he was snorting cocain.

    “Right, hehe! Would you like me to let you lick it all clean for me, like you did last time?” I couldn’t believe it was so fucking easy.

    “Yes, please!!! I’d love that!!” he replied, all fucking chipper. It was hilarious.

    “Mmmm…” I pretended to think about it “I don’t know, man… why should I?”

    “Uhm…” he was clearly racking his little fag brain “…be… because I… I’ll make you feel good!” he said almost proudly.

    “Nah, I doubt it. I told you, you have got to be the worst cocksucker ever!” I said and actually heard his heart break into a million pieces.

    “But… but… I practiced, you know?” He said all desperate “I practiced so much! Like hours, every day! With cucumbers and… and zucchini and everything I could find! For you!” There was so much love in his puppy eyes I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud.

    “Hahaha! Did you? Wow!” I was still cackling “So, you mean to tell me that while I was chilling with my bros or fucking my girl or whatever, you were spending your free time studying to become a better cocksucker?”  

    “Yes!” he whimpered, rubbing his stupid face on my junk.

    “And you did aaaall that just to please me?”

    “Yeah…” he was as high as a fucking kite.

                                                   

    “Good call, bitch! Hahaha!!” I was having fun, no question about it “So what? Now you want a second chance or something?”

    His eyes lit up.

    “Yeah, I do. Please Leo, let me suck it!”

    I took a long puff and made him suffer for a few seconds.

    “Well, I think I need to see what you’re willing to do for it.” Nice huh? He looked up at me.

    “What… what do you mean?”

    “Exactly what I said, fag! I need you to show me how bad you wanna do this!” I shrugged and he frowned, confused.

    “But… why?”

    I smiled and decided to go with the truth, as usual.

    “Cause it’s fun to watch.”

    He kept sniffing my balls like there was no tomorrow but wasn’t reacting to what I had just said so I decided that it was enough. I pushed him away and I’ll be honest: seeing him change his expression to desperation, was priceless.

    “W… well… ok… but what do you want me to do?” he asked nervously.

    I smirked, pretty self satisfied.

    “Why don’t you start begging?”

    He made a weird face and hesitated.

    “Uhm… ok… please Leo… I beg you… would you let me do it? Suck your dick, I mean…”

    Total fucking amateur. I snorted.

    “You gotta be kidding me! That was it?” I mocked him, entertained “That’s not begging.

    That’s asking nicely!” Then the clincher “Look, if you don’t wanna do this I’m outta here!”

    I said, annoyed and started to get up from the chair. 

    “No, no, no! Please, stay!” He panicked, putting his hands on my thighs “I’ll do better, please!”

    I smirked again and sat back down, a little conceitedly.

    “Fine! Go ahead, fag!”

    He looked at me for a couple of seconds, not really knowing what to do. And then, like it finally dawned on him, he went and bowed down right between my feet.

    “Please, Leo! I am begging you! Would you please let me suck your awesome cock? Please!”

    “Hehehe! Well, that’s a start!” I lifted my foot and placed it right onto his head “But you should go all the way down, fag!” and pressed his face down to that fucking nasty floor. He whined in what sounded like disgust “There! That’s better! Hehehe!” I rolled his head a couple of times with my foot “Now do it again with way more grovelling, this time!”

    “Uhm… I…” I think he might have been about to protest but I knew how to deal with lowlives like him.

    “Something wrong, fag?” I barked aggressively which worked like a charm.

    “N… no… sorry…” he stuttered “Oh great Leo, sir!” he started after a pause “Would you please let me use my fag mouth to suck your perfect cock and make you feel real good? Please, Sir, I beg you!”

    “Well, well, bitch! Now we’re talking! That wasn’t half bad! Hehe!” I petted him with the bottom of my shoe.

    “Uhm… ok… can you please let me up, now?” his voice sounded extremely uncomfortable and definitely a little impatient.

    “Mmmm… nope!” I replied, “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

    “C’mon, Leo, please! What else do you want me to do?” His petulant tone was funny cause his words were a little muffled by the filthy floor tiles pressing against his mouth.

    “Hey! You wanted this; I didn’t force you! You wanna call it quits?”

    “No, please! I just thought…” but he didn’t finish. It’s unbelievable how that lingering threat of me leaving makes them all piss their panties “Never mind… it’s… ok… I’ll… I’ll do what you want…” he gave in.

    “Good to know! Guess now you ARE my bitch, huh? Hehe!” I chuckled.

    “Y… yes…” he was clearly scared of the whole situation. But it was time to make things actually interesting.

    “Alright, now, let’s see what we can do…” I mused and took my sweet time before adding anything else. The stupid fag needed to understand his place. I snickered “You know your head makes for an awesome footrest, hahaha!” he didn’t reply but I could see how uncomfortable he still was. I played with his head like it was a soccer ball, sniggering like crazy until I felt it was time to go “Well, now that I think about it there is one thing you can do!” I left it hanging.

    “What?” came the eager answer.

    “Ah, forget it, you’re not up for it.” I teased.

    “What is it? I’m sure I can do it!” he was trying to look up but I wasn’t gonna let him.

    “Stay the fuck down!” my foot pushed him back down.

    “Sorry…” he said “Tell me what it is, please!”

    “Fine, if you want it THAT much!” I said smirking “My kicks are pretty fucking dirty…” I moved my other shoe next to his face “Why don’t you lick them clean like you would my balls?”

    “What?” he sounded like he couldn’t believe his ears and tried lifting himself up again. This time I let him. It was actually the moment of truth and I felt like he just needed to look at my dick one more time.

    “You heard me.” I replied simply, looking straight into his eyes.

    “Leo… c’mon… you can’t be serious…” his expression had both disgust and hopelessness in it.

    “Why not?” I kept staring at him and he couldn’t handle it, as usual.

    “B… because… that’s… like… fucking disgusting… I… I…”

    “No shit! But that’s the point, fag!” I replied “I mean, it’s pretty fucking hard to think of anything nastier than that! So, if you do it, that’ll show me how bad you wanna suck my dick.”

    Hard to disagree with that logic, huh?

    He looked like he had seen a ghost which told me that he was considering it for real. He didn’t speak though.

    “Fine…” I shook my head “I knew you’d chicken out, anyways.” I put my dick back in my pants and zipped up “See you around, fag…” I stood up and started to walk towards the door.

    “Wait! Please! I… I’ll do it…”

    Score! He had fallen for it again. Unbelievable. I turned around and looked at him, down there, on his knees.

    “You’re actually gonna lick the grime off my shoes?”

    “Y… yes…” he was so pathetic.

    “Just to prove to me that you really, REALLY wanna suck my dick?”

    “Yeah…” How could he not see how absurd that whole situation was?

    “Great!” I said smirking and walking right in front of him “Well? Whatcha waiting for, faggot?”

    His eyes were sad. But he only looked at me for a moment. Then he bowed his head again and actually went to work.

    “Hahaha! Yep! That’s it! Lick aaaall that shit off, hehe!” Un-fucking-believable. The stupid queer was gagging but he kept licking my fucking sneakers “You better do a great job if you want me to take you seriously, fag!”

    My words worked their magic, as usual. He was using his wet little tongue like a maniac, up and down, left and right, licking every inch of dirt off. Can you think of anything more pitiful than that?

    “C’mon, all of it! And don’t forget the side!” I added, totally showing off how fucking entertained I was. I lifted the shoe he was working on and tilted it sideways. I was wearing my black high-top chucks and I can tell you I enjoyed watching how all that fucking dirt got stuck to the fag’s tongue and how all the rubbery parts went back to looking white. And that dumb pig was actually eating all that shit “Mmmm… Yummy, huh? Hahaha!” Gotta say, knowing there are total losers in this world who are ready to do something that fucking gross, just for me, makes me feel preeeeetty damn good! And I’m not gonna apologize for it! It’s the best!

    “Now do the other one, c’mon!” he gagged for the umpteenth time but obeyed and was just as diligent with my left shoe. Within a few minutes, my kicks were clean and all shining with fag spit.

    “Alright, let’s see how you did!” he slowly moved away and I could finally see how grossed out he was. ‘Serves you right for being a weak-ass faggot!’ I thought to myself. I inspected my sneakers way more than necessary.

    “Not bad, faggot!” I praised him “You’re definitely a better shoeshine than a cocksucker, hehehe!” he still looked miserable.

    “C’mon, sissy! Cheer the fuck up! I didn’t even make you lick the soles ‘cause it was your first time!” I chuckled “Next time I might not be that nice!”

    The horror suddenly painted on his face was pretty awesome.

    “W… what do you mean ‘next time’? You’re not gonna make me do this again, are you? Please Leo, I’m begging you!”

    Negotiating, huh? Poor son of a bitch. It was time for an overdue wake-up call. I gave him the best evil smirk I could muster and went:

    “Why not? You’d refuse if I did?” It was a simple question really, but I’ll admit the tone was so vicious and full of jeering, even I was impressed. He held my gaze for maybe three or four seconds, but then, as always, he crumbled and looked down.

    “Yeah, didn’t think so.” I snickered. He didn’t reply, he stayed on his knees, sitting back on his heels. “Now, do you understand why faggots can’t even compare to someone like me? Why straight guys will always be inherently superior to them?” Nice choice of fancy words, huh? He looked up. He reminded me of a beaten dog but there was still no reply “You just licked my fucking shoes clean just cause you wanted to prove to me how bad you wanna suck on this.” I said, grabbing my crotch. “Get it? You’re pathetic!” I figured it was time for me to go for the kill and, sure enough, summing up the whole sitch, definitely had some effect on him. There was shame on his dumb face. Tons of it. I raised my hands as if to say ‘Hey, I was just proving my point, bitch!’

    “And that’s why you can’t just come up and say hi to me at school, fag!” I snorted. The sixth commandment was coming up “We’re not friends…” I explained “You do what I tell you, when I tell you…” he was drinking in all the new information I was giving him “…and you do it ‘cause you want me to keep sticking my dick in that fag mouth of yours.” Pause of effect “That’s how fucking weak you are.”

    Boom, bitch! Now, ‘defeated’ is probably the best word I can use to describe fag Chucky. He was completely lost for words and probably about to bawl again.

    “Well, I’m outta here!” I turned my back on him again “Thanks for licking my chucks clean, bitch! Hehehe!”

    “Wait! What do you mean? You’re… you’re leaving? But you said I could…” he looked positively desperate.

    “What?” I said innocently looking back “I never said I was gonna let you suck me off right now!”

    “But… but…” he stuttered “Please, Leo… let me do it… I… I even… I licked your… shoes… just like you wanted… please… I…”

    And he was pretty much begging again without being told. Nice!

    “Nah, see, that’s where you’re wrong!” I cut him off “You licked my shoes cause you wanted to! Don’t put this one on me. I certainly didn’t hold a gun to your head, did I?”

                                       

    I can be such a cunning bastard when I want to “You did it cause you wanted to, period!” I repeated, then chuckled “I bet you even enjoyed it a little, hahaha!”

    He looked like his puppy had just died.

    “Why are you being so mean?” This question arrived out of the blue, surprising me a little. It was a funny one, really, since the answer was pretty obvious to me. I grinned smugly and shrugged.

    “Because I can, fag.”

    No reply. Not surprising.

    “And while we’re at it, I want you to do something for me.” Why not just keep milking the cow, right? I paused and he kept looking at me, waiting.

    “What?” he asked then, going back to that weak little voice he always used in front of me.

    “See this place?” he nodded. “Chris’s big bro and his buddies used to bring their chicks here and fuck ‘em. Used to call it ‘the fuck cave’ or something.” I let that sink in.

    “O…k…” he replied tentatively.

     “You know who I’m talking about?”

    “Y… yeah… the Hansson brothers… I… I think my cousin was in the same grade as C…”

    “Yeah, don’t give a shit.” I interrupted him “The point is: I wanna do the same but this place is dirty as fuck.” another pause and now he was slowly understanding what I was getting at “I want you to clean it.”                                                            

    There was really no possible reply to that. It was an order, plain and simple.

    “B… but… I…”

    “Oh, for fuck’s sakes! Enough with the fucking stutter! What are you, retarded?”

    And that was really all that it took to shut him up. He pretty much looked broken at this point. His shoulders sagged.

    “Have it cleaned by tomorrow but make sure you’re done by four, got it?”

    He didn’t have the guts to look up at me. He simply nodded, completely floored.

    “And make it fucking spotless, bitch!”

    Again, he nodded.

    “Hey, fag!” I barked and slapped him around a little.  “I told you last time: you’re getting the better end of the deal, here. You get to suck my dick. Don’t forget that!”

                                                                                       

    He looked scared but even though he was pretty shaken, I could swear my words had just made his day.

     

    Chuck

    I sat there in silence long after he had left. My stomach hurt and the lingering sense of nausea was making my head spin a little. What had I gotten myself into? This was crazy. He was bullying me big time and not like slam-me-against-the-lockers kinda bullying. He was like blackmailing me or something. It had to be illegal! I had to tell someone!

    Then why was my conscience telling me otherwise? 

    Had he actually forced me to do any of that shit? Nope, not even close. He had actually tried to leave several times on both occasions. He had only stayed because I had insisted. It was all me. For fuck’s sakes, it WAS all me, just like he had said. He was actually right. One hundred percent right! If I had wanted to, I could have just left that shabby place, never seen him again and gone on with my life. But not ONE fibre of my being really wanted that. The thought of it actually made me sick. It made me way sicker than licking his nasty sneakers. Which probably meant that I was the sick one. There had to be something wrong with me and it had very little to do with being gay. Or a fag like he wanted me say.

    I was gonna clean that place. It made no sense whatsoever but I was gonna make it spotless, like he had told me to. Because right there and then, I was not thinking with my mind. I was thinking with my dick and it was telling me to keep doing each and every sick thing Leo wanted me to, as long as I could eventually taste his dick again.


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


  • Stranger on the Train

    I was on the train, by myself on the way to my friends house one night after work. I had the sudden feeling. Like someone was watching me. When from the side of my peripheral vision, i see someone with tying to wave me down. I dont look his way. I stare down at my phone and act like i cant see him. I get to my stop, and as I raise to leave the train, i see him standing to exit also. I make the decision to exit behind him, also behind a groupe of people that were exiting also. Hoping he would stay at the platform to wait for another train, and not walk up to the street level where I was headed. Lone behold, its most of the people in between us that are staying downstairs to wait for another train, as im know getting on the long escalator ride to street level, with this stranger just a fee steps above me.

    “Hows your night going?” He asks.

    “Not too bad.” I respond.

    “Where you coming from?”.

    Me: “Coming from work,headed to a friends house.”

    “Whats your name?”

    “My names daniel.

    For his sake ill keep his name private, but he extended his hand to shake mine. I put my hand in his, and he gripped it softly, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand.

    “Soft hands!”

    Me: “Thank you”

    “You’re really cute” he says to me.

    Immediately unleashing butterflies in my stomach and sending chills down my spine.

    I can literally feel my face turning red. This guy was older than myself, (20 at the time) old enough to be my father by the looks of him. And he was actually pretty handsome. 6ft to my 5ft even. Pretty muscular compared to my slim, petite boyish figure.

    “Are you gay?” He asks.

    “I like girls and guys” i say back nervously.

    “Can I ask you another question? And if you feel uncomfortable dont be afraid to say no. I’ll accept your answer and leave you be if you want”

    “Sure” i said. “I dont mind.”

    “Can I kiss you?” He asks.

    I have never seen or met this man in my life. And I had hooked up with a few guys at this point, but no situation as spontaneous as this. And Definitely not with someone this much older than me. I look up into his eyes without even thinking about it..

    “Sure.”

    He steps closer, one arm wrapping around my waist pulling me closer to him, closing the space between our bodies.

    “Yeah?” He says, as he leans in and starts kissing me. Publicly. Right along the main road, people and traffic passing by. Here i am, not a care in the world, being seduced by this older man. He asks

    “Can I use my tongue?”

    “I nod my head as to say yes”.

    This was the most intense and passionate kiss i have ever experienced. It was almost like his tongue was having sex with mine. His tongue completely dominated my mouth. Sucking and playfully nibbling my bottom lip. Both of his hands rubbing and massaging my waist and lower back, i feel his hands start to ride a little lower down my back, resting both palms on either side of my butt. “Is that ok?”

    “Mhm..” i whimper back.

    He moves from my mouth, sliding his tongue across my cheek, and down my neck where he starts kissing and sucking. Niw nibbling on my ear and sucking on my ear lobes as he grips and fondles my ass. He turns me around, facing forward with my back against his stomach, pulling my hips into his. I start to arch my backside into him. I besides the feeling of his tongue slipping around my ears and neck, my ears. I start to feel one hand sliding down my back and slipping inside of my jeans. Because of my belt, he could only get his four fingers into the waist line of my pants. With out a word, i undo my, unbutton my pants and lower them about halfways over my butt. Letting him slide his hand inside my pants and play with my ass. If youre familiar with ethica underwear, i was wearing a pair of tight ethica briefs that basically fit like women’s booty shorts. He was having a great time pulling the middle up my ass essentially turning them into a thong.

    “Can I show you something?”

    “Sure” i say back. He grabs hold of my wrist, pulling it behind me and rests my palm over the middle of his. I start to feel, sliding my hand down his length so I can get a good idea of how big he is. “Big” is an understatement. What he had waiting for me inside of his jeans beyond big. Without even seeing it yet, i can confidently say without a doubt that i had just touched it the biggest dick i had ever layer a finger on in my life, and i hadnt seen a thing yet..

    I literally gasp. “Oh my fucking god!”

    “You like that?”

    “It feels huge!”

    “Do you like to suck dick?”

    “I don’t even think you would fit inside my mouth!”

    “I think we can make it fit.. What do you think?

    This was in the area of West Hollywood. I wasnt very familiar with that area other than going to my friends house, so I didn’t know of any places to be alone. And my friends house was expectng me, so I couldn’t just pay for a room and shack up with this stranger for the night.

    It was normal for the train to stop on the tracks for traffic or other issues, so i knew my friend wouldn’t worry if I was a little late. “Where can we go?”

    “Want to walk down the street a little? Maybe find a dark place, maybe an alley?”

    I agree. “Ok” i respond. He pulls my jeans up for me, buttons them, and puts my belt together for me. He gives me a kiss on my cheek, lightly give me a pat on my ass “come on” he says, reaching back, signaling me to hold his hand. I interlock my fingers in his, and we walk to the corner of the block, holdind hands as if we were a couple.

    We get to the cross walk. He pulls me infront of him; my back to his front, one hand interlocked into his, his other hand playing with my ass, pulling me by my belt loop grinding himself into my backside.

    “Youre such a good kisser baby, you taste like candy.”

    Im literally speechless. I feel so dirty, but in the best, and sexiest way. “I wonder what your little pussy taste like..” he whispers in my ear. At this point i dont care who can see us. I am under this guys spell, and he could have pulled me clothes off in the middle of that cross walk and did what ever he wanted to me for all to see if he wanted to. I was all his. His arm over my shoulder, mine around his waist as he cross the busy street infront of the cars at the red light beside us. We head down a dark street. There was an alley to the right of us, but the there was a light shining in the middle of the alley hanging above a parking garage. We stopped in a driveway directly across the street to evaluate. Why dont we just do it here in the drive way” i ask. The driveway was steep, dark, and you couidnt really see the window at the front of the house from the bottom. And there were 2 cars parked in the driveway way with enough space for 2 people to lay in between. I grab his hand and lead us between the two cars. He leans against the back of the first car towards the top of the driveway and gives it a shake to see if an alarm might go off if we happen to bump into it. “You think this is okay?” I whisper. He gives a final scan of our surroundings, and without word pulls me towards him with an arm around my lower back. Sliding his other hand under my jeans and underwear, grabbing a firm handful of my bare right ass cheek. I place my hand on the middle of his jeans and continue feeling this pole that is attached to this handsome man.

    He bring his hands between us, loosen his belt, and pulls himself out of his jeans. My hand couldnt close around the girth of him, and it was probably about the size of my forearm. It was definitely longer than both of my hands wrapped around it. Im willing to guess he was probably about 11/12 inches. I had seen that on a computer screen many times before, but seeing something like this in person. I dropped down to my knees and just held it in amazement. Sizing it up against my face. Slapping it against my cheek. it was almiost like in the movies when someone finds some gold or treasure, and all you can see os them looking down into the treasure while it shines back at you with that opera music playing in the background. There is no words. I was mesmerized. I started licking him like a popsicle. Painting broad stripes firat from the middle up to the tip. Then from the very base, slowly up the length of him. Teasing him. I started sliding my flattened tongue around the bottom of his completely groomed ball sack. Gently sucking each one into my mouth, whirling my tongue around them. Then with one long fianl lick up his long shaft, i slide his pictur perfect dick into my mouth. The head of his dick already stretching my jaw to its limit, i feel both sides getting sore from having my miuth open so wide. But I continue. The sounds of sucking and slurping filling the quiet night air on this small side street. He starts gripping my head, and theusting his hips into my face deeper into my throat with every push. I didnt think he could fit any deeper past his head, but the harder he pushed, the more he stuffed himself deep behind my throat, until he was literally fucking my air ways. At this point he was about half of his length as far down my throat as he could possibly get. Pausing to feel the muscles in my throat tensing and clenching around him. Listening to me choke and gagging as saliva squirts and explodes all over my shirt. Luckily i was wearing a zip up sweater i couid use to cover the wet stains all over my shirt once i got to my friends house.

    As im down on my knees, swallowing and polishing his dick with my mouth and tongue, he gently pulls me to my feet by my throat. “Youre so good at that baby” he whispers, almost in a growl, at the same time undoing my belt, then the botton of my pants. He pulls the zipper down, and then pushes me back down to my knees by my shoulders. “Stick that little ass out for me baby” as stuffs his pole back down my throat. I hear him spit in his hand, and then slides his hand from the back of my neck down the trail of my spine and slide his fingers way past my belt line into my ass as he starts rubbing his digits in a circular motion around my hole. I start to feel the pressure from one of his fingers pushing into my ass. In a flash i pop his dick from out of my mouth “I cant”

  • Prodigal Brother

    “This feels nice,” Logan said as we lay in his condo bed, slowly feeling each other’s naked body up and making out softly. 

    “It does,” I admitted.

    It had been a wild long weekend, and I dreaded how early was my flight back would be the next morning. The idea was to get some sleep early and set the alarm clock for like 5. The alarm was set, but neither of us seemed in the mood to sleep. With a dreamy expression, Logan reached behind my neck and pulled me into a soft kiss.

    *

    It had been too long since I’d seen my little brother, three whole years, but after a year of dealing with divorce shit and feeling in the dumps, I decided to take some personal time and fly to New York for a few days. It was easy to ride non-rev on a positioning jet, and I had been working like a dog lately.

    It was Logan’s idea, and he invited me up in a way that suggested there would be no strings. Just two brothers catching up and having a fun long weekend.

    Well, the second I saw Logan I knew it was gonna be more. My heart felt like it stopped or slowed, and I just felt that kind of dizzy giddiness. Logan felt it too.

    “Hey,” he said, as he ushered me in. His place seemed small by North Carolina standards, but it was a nice, modern one-bedroom with a sweet view of the city. Logan did pretty dang good for himself. 

    I stepped in, unable to break my goofy smile or take my eyes off him, not even to look around the place. He was real hunky and muscular, he’d somehow gotten more jacked since the last time I saw him, bigger than me, even, but I had three inches in height on him. 

    “Hey,” I answered, hoping I was reading his eye contact right. 

    I was. Logan stepped up to me and like that, my little brother’s strong arms were slinking around my waist and pulling my taller body to him. Our kiss was electric. Deep, sensual and able to send goosebumps all over my skin.

    “I wasn’t sure you’d be up for that,” he hissed as he pulled back. 

    My hands clung to every inch I could grip. Even through his polo shirt it felt real fucking solid. “I’m even more up for it now,” I replied. “In case you don’t remember, I’m no longer a married man.”

    Logan got a contrite look on his face. “Sorry, Dunc.” My brother was the only one who called me Dunc instead of Duncan. 

    “Some things are meant to be,” I said. I knew there would be time to talk about the big adjustments in my life post divorce, but that could wait. “Maybe we can get naked?” I urged.

    Logan smiled big. “Oh yeah.”

    We went to his bedroom and playfully stripped for each other. I may be 41 and Logan 35, and the size differential hit different now with all of my little bro’s brawn, but it was still just back like when we were younger. Our bodies felt warm as we embraced naked and hard. I’d experimented with shaving down my chest and Logan had gotten hairier, even growing a soft bristly beard. It was like a reverse of the normal us, but it felt the same, too. Hands on each other, mutual admiration, deep kissing. Sensual incest.

    Logan went down on me, but I held off cumming, even though my little bro is a total stud when sucking dick. I did my best to return the favor, until Logan tapped my shoulder. Either he was getting too close to blowing or he just wanted to move on to something else. 

    “I told myself I wasn’t gonna put the moves on you, Dunc,” he said with an embarrassed smile. 

    My reply was honest. “I told myself it wasn’t gonna happen if you did, but I knew I was lying to myself.”

    He hissed. He reached down and gripped my boner. I wasn’t super hung, but I had some girth. Logan did too. I reached out and touched his dick. 

    “69?” he asked.

    “Never done that,” I confessed. 

    “It’ll be hot,” my brother replied.

    It was. I was self conscious of what Logan would think of my softer midsection. I kept up my workouts at the gym and had actually dieted some to lose a little of my post-divorce belly. I’d made progress, but I wasn’t one of those New York City guys. 

    Logan didn’t care. He settled in and pulled my ass toward him while he swallowed me deep. I didn’t have my bro’s moves, but I did my best to copy him, bobbing at a good pace on his tool. Whatever I did seemed to work. I heard and felt him moan around my dick and could taste the salty precum in my mouth. 

    I was hit with the idea I was having sex with my younger brother once more. It had been almost five years, and it was like picking things right back up. I came hard into his mouth and felt his semen fire in mine almost simultaneously. We nursed each other slowly and pulled off.

    I felt relieved we didn’t kiss right away. Once we got our nut, we were back to being brothers. Logan showed me the bathroom and where the spare towels were laid out. It was almost like being at a fucking Airbnb, everything was prepared for my visit.

    “You’re taking my bed tonight, Dunc,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

    “No way,” I said. “That wasn’t part of the deal.” I was going to get my own hotel room for this weekend, but Logan insisted I crash at his place. 

    “Bro, you’re too fucking big for that sofa.” He had a point. They make everything smaller for New York apartments I guess. 

    *

    We were in a chatty mood at dinner. It was all the good stuff first, me giving updates on our hometown. I didn’t live there anymore but 30 miles wasn’t far to move and I kept running into the same people. Including the guy Logan secretly dated back in high school. Evan. I worried Logan would be upset that I brought the guy up, but he seemed amused and interested to hear that Evan was settled down and gay married to some Charlotte banker. 

    “Figures,” my brother laughed. “Dude was so obsessed about getting into Duke. Needed his Mrs. degree.” He caught my own amused surprise. “Sorry, Dunc, that’s catty as fuck. Good for him. Really.”

    “You seeing anyone, bro?” I asked, cautiously. Mostly because I felt like a heel for not keeping in better touch with him. We’d text occasionally, but I was going through a lot and sometime blamed my brother. 

    He shook his head. “I used to think I wasn’t the relationship type,” he explained. “But I don’t think that’s true. Just gotta adjust my approach, cause what I’m doing isn’t working.”

    I grimaced then gave an encouraging smile. “Well, you’re looking great, Logan.”

    He gave a genuine smile back. “Thanks. You, too, Dunc. Looks like you get to the gym.”

    “Not like you,” I said. “But I do what I can.”

    “Things still busy at work?”

    I worked as a private pilot. Good gig, really, especially with the business travel in and out of Charlotte. “Pretty much. Biding my time and building my 401K up,” I replied wryly. “The other guys don’t know why I got divorced of course.”

    “Does Sara?” he asked, pointedly. 

    I nodded. “Not the full story, but she knows. She’s pissed as hell.”

    “Sorry.”

    “It’s OK. I’m a big boy. Time to grow up.”

    “Jesus, Dunc,” Logan hissed. Then, he shifted to encouraging. “One good thing out of this is hearing from you again.” It could have been a barb, but it wasn’t. 

    “Yeah,” I said. “And it’s amazing seeing you, Logan.”

    *

    It took a couple of drinks for me to work up the courage. 

    “So bro…?” I asked as we were on our second bar of the night. I think Logan wanted to show off the city and his neighborhood. He didn’t have to, I’d have been happy with some tourist trap or dumb sports bar. But I loved that he was excited. 

    “Yeah?” 

    “Would you be upset if I hooked up with a guy while I was in town?”

    “You dog,” he laughed. “Already lined up someone?”

    I shook my head. “No. But I haven’t been out of fucking Charlotte in years. And I’m in new pastures…”

    Logan was getting me now. “You should have your fun, Dunc.” Sincere as hell.

    “You wouldn’t be upset?”

    “Why would I?”

    I kind of rolled my eyes. 

    “Dude, we have our thing,” Logan replied. “It is what it is. We don’t have to get weird about it.”

    “Yeah,” I replied. I felt more at ease. I don’t know, maybe in the back of my head, I pictured Logan as the fully gay man more likely to catch feelings and shit. 

    Instead, my brother got an impish look on his face. “So big bro… you been taking advantage of your new freedom?” he asked.

    “Some,” I replied. “Not a lot.” I’d fooled around with some guys since divorcing Sara, but I’m not proud to say my batting average while married was about the same now that I was single.

    Logan nodded, running his hand up and down my lower back. It was fraternal and sensual at the same time. He leaned in and bar-whispered, “You still take bottom bunk?”

    “Yeah, pretty much,” I grinned. This was one bond Logan and I had. He was an out and proud gay dude, and I was a closeted ex-Air Force guy who tried to be occasional in my hookups. But our preferences in bed were strikingly similar, almost identical.

    He pulled back with a grin. “Dudes are gonna go fucking wild for you in this city,” he said. 

    *

    They did. I waited until the next morning to hit the apps. It took about ten minutes to line up a hot top. 40-ish muscle top, big dick. There seemed to be a lot of men like that in NYC. I guess there was a lot of everything in NYC. 

    My brother had given me space and privacy that morning, laying out breakfast and a thermal coffee carafe, along a note that he was going to the gym and meeting up with friends for brunch. He’d touch base later.

    And god help me there was a douche kit set out in the bathroom. I didn’t need it, since I’d packed my own. 

    I cleaned out and showered up. I told Muscle Top I was on my way. Sometimes sweetly shy tops get me going. Muscle Top wasn’t one of those guys. But he was friendly in his way as he led me in and as he stepped behind me he massaged my shoulders. Strong fucking hands. 

    “You’re solid, stud.”

    “Thanks,” I said. Leaning back into his brawn. Already he was kissing along my neck. We were matched in height. I could feel his hard chest press against my back. 

    “You just visiting?” he asked. It might have been chit chat, but I think I gave off out-of-towner vibes. My accent didn’t help.

    “Yeah, just for the weekend,” I replied. 

    Already his hands had left my shoulders and were now tugging down the athletic shorts I’d worn over. Weighted down with phone and wallet they fell to the floor and I was naked from the waist down. Muscle Top didn’t waste time. I loved that.

    “Wife and kids with ya?” he growled. Horny as fuck. 

    My dick was rising to a standing position now. I turned to face him. Up close he wasn’t classically handsome but he was good looking and really built. Almost immediately the guy’s hands clasped my ass cheeks possessively. “Would that turn you on?” I teased.

    “Fuck yeah it would,” he laughed. “But you don’t have to make shit up.”

    “I’m a textbook divorced dude making up for lost time,” I replied. 

    “Works for me.”

    We kissed. Not romantic, it was a hook up kiss. Those fingers dug into my cleft. His excitement made me feel proud of the work I’d put in for leg day. I had a great ass.

    Muscle Top guided me to his bed face down. I got rimmed and fingered. This was porn sex. Particularly when he mounted me and worked me open. I was out of practice and apologized for being so tight.

    “You don’t have to apologize for that, stud. FUCK!”

    The dick popped in now, all of its length. I was getting my dry spell fucked out of me in the best way. I held on to the sheets. My erection flagged but I loved getting completely boned like this. I once asked my shrink why, in more delicate terms. She just asked me in return what I thought.

    Muscle Top didn’t have technique, but he had power without going too rough. In two minutes he was cumming inside me. He collapsed on my back and caught his breath. “Need to get off?” he asked as he licked my ear. 

    “I’m good,” I said. “That was incredible.”

    It was small chit chat as we got dressed. He was an actor. Did stuff on TV shows, nothing famous. I told him I was from Charlotte and that I flew planes for a living, but I didn’t go into detail.

    “A pilot? Wow, you’re my second. Hot, man.”

    *

    I wasn’t even out of the lobby of Muscle Top’s building when I was back to the DMs of the app. I had my window of freedom in the big city, and I was going to take advantage of it. I replied back to a guy who’s messaged me earlier.

    “Still up for something?” I asked.

    “Other guy flake out?” Either offended or curious.

    “He just loaded me up. I still haven’t gotten off.”

    “Some tops are like that,” he wrote. “Come by and I’ll take care of you.”

    It was night and day a different vibe with Guy #2. He was cute as fuck in his early 30s, muscled and fit, but not overly big, except for his cock. 

    It took a while for him to work that full length into me. But we made out and took our time, and soon, Cute Guy was pounding off in me missionary. I stroked and came hard, and he did right after me. 

    “You’re butch as fuck,” he said as we lay together recovering. “Any chance I could ask you out on a date?” There was something adorable about him. That sweetly shy approach.

    “I’m just visiting,” I said. “But I’ll let you know if I get free time again.””

    He smiled and we kissed softly. 

    “I should start my day,” he said. “Gotta meet some friends for brunch.”

    Does every gay guy do brunch in this town? I thought with a smile. Hell, maybe Cute Guy is friends with Logan for all I know.

    *

    I was napping when Logan returned. 

    “Sorry,” he said as he woke me up. 

    “I’m good,” I said. “What time is it?”

    “Two. Want some coffee?”

    I slipped out of his bed and nodded, following him to the kitchen.

    I watched him make me some espresso. 

    “Have fun?” he asked with a teasing smile. 

    “Oh yeah,” I grinned. “Thanks, bro.”

    “Of course.” He handed me the coffee. “So… how big was he?”

    This was our new dynamic, I guess. Talking about our sexual conquests. But if Logan could tease so could I. “Which one?” I shot back.

    That got a laugh out of him. “Either. Any.”

    I held up my hand to indicate Cute Guy’s endowment. I don’t know what kind of equipment my little brother normally took on, but he seemed genuinely impressed. “I told you you’d be popular, Dunc.”

    “It was definitely what I needed.”

    “I’m glad.”

    We changed the subject and discussed what we wanted to do that day. Logan offered either a museum outing or a Yankees game. And seemed unsurprised that I chose the latter. “You got expensive taste, bro,” he said. 

    “My treat,” I replied.

    We got the cheap seats, for not that cheap. I loved every minute of it, even if I wasn’t a Yankees fan. It was a perfect day to spend an early summer afternoon. I got buzzed on beers and had ballpark food.

    By dinner time back in Manhattan, my appetite was still strong and we went to one of Logan’s favorite casual places. He looked hot as fuck in his casual shorts and that colored T-shirt that hugged his thick muscle. 

    “It’s been a perfect day,” I said. 

    “Getting laid?” he asked nonchalantly, his voice not too loud though.

    “That, but everything. The ball game. Hanging out with you.”

    “Same,” he said. “Probably good we’re not in the same city.”

    Those words hit me. I had no idea what fires we were fanning or trying to put out. I’d almost ghosted Logan for a few years because of them. Still, I tried not to be weird. “Probably good we’re both bottoms, too.”

    He grinned. A playful leer. He leaned in. “So, bro… I’ve been getting into toys lately.”

    “Yeah?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I was following where he was going.

    “You ever play with any, Dunc?”

    “Not much,” I said. Though I wasn’t going to share this history with Logan yet. Anyway, I didn’t have Logan’s experience. 

    “You wanna?” he asked. 

    “Maybe eventually,” I said. But the idea was in my mind the rest of dinner. And even as we paid the bill and walked back to Logan’s place, I had a feeling what was going to happen.

    “I’m gonna get cleaned,” he said as we walked in and set down his keys. “Make yourself at home.”

    It was a quiet coordinated ritual. Me stepping into the bathroom after Logan was done. I felt nervous though as I stepped back out and saw Logan naked and hard on the bed. A couple of dildos were on the nightstand. 

    Logan wasn’t remotely nervous. “You got an incredible body, Dunc.”

    “I thought you’d go for another muscle guy,” I said. 

    “I like being the one bringing the big muscle. You got the right amount. Trust me.”

    We connected naked in his bed. Like the first night, exploring that familiar brotherly connection and relearning each other’s sexual responses. We rolled around, neither of us taking the top and just enjoying the physical motions of humping in bed. 

    Finally, Logan reached over for one of the toys. Shorter, but thick. “Let’s start with this one,” he announced. I thought I’d be watching him play with his hole, but instead he slathered it with crisco-looking lube and went to kneel between my legs. 

    “Come on, Dunc,” he urged, and I lifted my legs. He licked his lips. “Hot fucking hole, bro. I can tell you got fucked earlier.”

    I nodded. This was crazy and obscene. And right. Even when Logan brought that fat toy to my fat asslips and twisted it around.

    “Oh,” I said. It was thrilling, all new. That fake dick worked its way into me. A dildo felt so different than a real cock, but Logan’s eyes on me made it feel right. More slid in. 

    “Fuck yeah, bro… take that dick.” His bicep flexed as he pushed it all the way in and held it a second.

    He slowly extracted it and I watched with excitement as he brought it down between his own legs. 

    “Fuck, you’re not…” I grunted, but Logan just smiled and sat down onto that lubed dong. No hesitation, just fucking sat all the way down and sighed. 

    “I have a little practice,” he admitted. 

    “Clearly.” My dick was rock hard. 

    “You want some practice, Dunc?”

    I nodded and pulled my legs back again. Wide, spread-eagled slut pose. It was Logan’s turn to get crazy excited. He pulled out the dildo and brought it back to my hole. The entry this time was easier and Logan worked the toy steadily in and out, deeper and deeper. I imagined Cute Guy from earlier doing it, or fucking Logan while I get dicked by the toy. 

    “Shit!” I gasped.

    “Good?”

    “Incredible, bro.”

    “Hold it right there,” he urged. I reached down to keep the dildo buried in while I watched Logan slather the other longer toy and flip onto his back. This one took longer for my brother to work up his own ass, but pretty soon we lay side by side, working our own holes and making out. 

    “This is wild, Dunc.”

    “Fuck yeah it is,” I replied. My eyes locked on his. 

    “Let me get you off first,” he urged and took over the dildo again, I jerked my cock and we made out as he frigged me. It took me about thirty seconds to cum. I kissed Logan through the orgasm, before I gathered my normal senses and reached over to return the favor.

    I’d seen Logan cum many times over the year, but this felt different. Special. A dildo still buried in my hole, while I manually fucked the cum out of Logan. 

    “Jesus, Christ,” he said. 

    “Yeah, right?”

    “Still wish you’d gotten a hotel room?” he teased. 

    “Maybe not,” I grinned. 

    I lay on the bed, lazy and tired, as Logan went to clean off the toys. I decided to join him to watch the process. Probably not rocket science, but I knew now I was gonna get a dildo of my own once I got back to Charlotte.

    *

    I went for a run the next morning. I needed the cardio and needed to clear my head. And I frickin love running in the city. Best way to see it.

    Logan had just gotten up when I returned and was making his coffee. His muscle body was naked from the waist up, and he apparently had taken to wearing the exact same kind of cotton pyjama bottoms that Dad used to wear. It was weird and yet hot. Particularly with the contrast of the old fashioned look with Logan’s waxed and tanned muscle guy thing.

    “Hey,” he said. “Coffee will be ready in a minute.”

    “I’ll go shower,” I announced. But I stepped up to my brother and pulled his head into a kiss. He was surprised but responded to it. We swapped a little tongue, slowly.

    “Wow,” he said. 

    “You can tell me to back the fuck off Logan. Anytime.” I grinned, but my eyes communicated that I knew this was heavy stuff we were dealing with. I’d had my whole run to think over my attraction for my little brother. And what I wanted to pursue. 

    He shook his head. “I figure we can play boyfriends for the weekend. After…”

    “Yeah,” I said. I massaged his strong shoulder muscle. “I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten, bro.”

    “It”s funny,” he said with a smile. “When I was younger I just wanted to get my big brother’s build. Then I kept going.”

    I gave him another peck then went to shower off. I threw hard in the shower, surprised at how my libido was keeping up over the weekend.

    I wasn’t ready for sex just yet, though. And when I stepped out into the kitchen and my little brother started making out with me again, I told Logan as much.

    “Later, Logan. OK?” I asked. “I just want to feel you up.”

    He gave me a dreamy look. “OK, Dunc.” I was shirtless and just in my shorts, and Logan’s hands explored my body too. We kissed off and on. 

    “This will never happen,” my brother said. “But I’d love to share the same top with you. It’d be hot.”

    “It’d be hard to find the right guy,” I said. It was one thing to fool around with my brother, another thing for our incest to become known.

    “Yeah,” he said. “I have a couple of regulars. At least one of em I know would be cool.”

    I let the idea drop. I wasn’t ready for it, as appealing as it sounded. “You get a lot of dick, Logan?”

    He nodded. “At least once a week. Never seems like enough.”

    “Seems like a lot to me,” I said. 

    “Dunc, you could be getting that hole taken care of nonstop, if you wanted. Though unless you settle down, it takes some work.”

    “Ink’s not dry on the divorce papers, bro.”

    His look grew contrite. “I said if you wanted. I didn’t mean…”

    “It’s cool, Logan. I just gotta figure out what’s I want.”

    The spell was broken. I pulled back. “Maybe we can get some breakfast? I’m starving.”

    I had my coffee while Logan showered up, and soon we were going to a nearby restaurant. The vibe was back to us as brothers, me going into detail about the divorce, and Logan opening up about his dating life. I loved my little brother, but I worried he had some low self-esteem issues and made some bad choices. 

    Afterwards, we went to a museum. Logan’s pick. I liked art and all, but he was the one who followed these things. 

    I thought that sex was no longer on our brains, but as we walked back to the subway, Logan got an impish look on his face. “OK if we make a special stop, Dunc?” he asked.

    “What do you have in mind?”

    “A surprise.”

    I went with it. And when we got off the subway, my little brother led us to a sex shop. “Just don’t call me ‘brother,’ Dunc,” he said with a deep laugh before he opened the door.

    My little brother made a beeline back to the dildos. I sheepishly followed him. It was my first time in a store like this, other than to buy straight porn back in my Air Force days. A lot had changed.

    Logan picked up a sizeable dong that was of a more flexible lifelike material. “Been wanting to try this one.”

    I heard a “can I help you gentlemen?” the sales guy asked. He had a working class vibe to him, but I could tell he was a middle aged gay man like me. I about gave an automatic “No thanks” in response, but Logan chimed in.

    “Yeah… we’re looking for a double sided toy… not sure which one we should go with.”

    I shot my little brother a “fuck you” glance, but I played along with it.

    “How much experience do you have with the regular toys?” the salesman asked. Not lecherous, but matter of fact, like he was helping us try on a suit or something.

    “I’m a power bottom, but Dunc here is still getting used to the bigger ones.”

    God, I could kill him, I laughed to myself. But as much out of my comfort zone as Logan was getting me, there was a naughty thrill to the whole thing. Particularly when the guy showed us a nice double-sided dildo that was thick but not too fat and had about a foot on each side. 

    I surprised Logan by being the one to say we’d take it and going up to pay for it at the register. Logan tossed the fat toy he was looking at to add to the purchase. 

    “Your treat,” he teased. “Oh and I should get more lube.”

    I shook my head and laughed. The sales guy did too.

    “It’s gonna be fun, Dunc,” Logan said as we walked from the shop. 

    I didn’t disagree.

    *

    Back at his place it was the ritual again. Getting ready. I went first this time. I actually dozed off until I felt my muscle hunk brother slide into bed with me. 

    “Jesus, Dunc, you’re so handsome, you know that, right?”

    I grinned at him. I loved his flattery, particularly then, seeing and feeling all that very thick muscle. I had a feeling all that build wasn’t natural, but I hoped to god that Logan was looking after his health. He was a big boy, and I wasn’t going to lecture him. 

    “Show me how this works.”

    Logan chuckled. “Right to business, huh?” he said. He scooted over and picked up the new toy. It seemed bigger now that we had it in bed with us. I watched excitedly as my brother methodically slathered on some special lube he picked up at the store too.

    “All right,” he announced, getting into a kneeling position between my legs. Like the night before. I hadn’t admitted to Logan, but I had Sara peg me once. Trying to channel my desires into my hetero marriage. She didn’t really enjoy it though, and maybe deep down she worried about my sexuality. This felt night and day. Logan knowing how to do this because he loved the toys and the thrill of penetration.

    He went slow but it felt right. My hole was getting a hearty workout this long weekend, and now it was relaxed and ready. Logan’s eyes looked at me with a sexual thrill as the dildo pressed deeper into me.

    “It’s not as hot as a real dick, is it?” he said as much as asked. “But I love the feeling.”

    “Jesus, Logan, this is intense,” I answered honestly. 

    “You got a hungry hole, brother,” Logan growled. “Just like mine.” More dildo pushed in and from there on it was pure excitement. The sexual situation, the prostate stimulation and the pushing of boundaries all made my dick rock hard and leaking as Logan violated my ass with that toy, his bicep flexing as he pushed and twisted it in.

    “Ok,” he said, pausing and scooting around so he was lying the other direction in bed. “My turn.”

    That double-sided dong was wedged deep, and as Logan gripped it to guide into his ass, the motion twisted it more inside me, making my cock twitch. 

    The physical sensations paled to the mental part. Watching my muscled up little brother ride the same dildo that was buried in me. 

    We somehow magically got a rhythm. Writhing in bed, we humped closer to one another. Logan’s experienced ass was swallowing up more of the length, but that fake dong was working deeper into me, too, as we worked toward our goal

    Finally, our asses touched, and it felt like a powerful connection. My whole body felt alive and my horniness was taking over. My little brother was seeing me like this, and I was seeing him stuffed with the dildo too. Needy.

    “I’ve had three guys fuck me this year,” I said. “Well, before this weekend.”

    Logan’s eyes went wide and he smiled. His undulation of his hips slowed and it was perfect. The dick rocked back and forth slowly inside me. “Yeah, bro? How were they?”

    “Two were OK,” I replied. “One was such a good top. I still think about hitting him up again.” I thought of the guy. Frank. More burly and gruffly handsome than good looking. But he was masculine and hot, and married, which complicated things.

    “You should, bro,” Logan encouraged. He seemed very invested in my sex life, and for some reason that was a turn on.

    “You want me taking dick, Logan?” I hissed. I now worked my hips up and down a little, grinding that double-sided dick into my little brother’s ass and stimulating my own prostate. 

    He nodded. “Oh yeah, it’s so hot, Dunc. Growing up, I thought you were straight… and then I assumed you were all top when it came to guys.”

    I blushed. Remembering the time we fooled around, for real, going all the way. I fucked Logan but confessed afterward that I usually got dicked instead. “I love getting pounded off too much, bro.”

    He hissed and took in a deep breath of air before he clenched those muscle abs and worked his hips more vigorously. We were truly fucking each other now, eyes locked on one another.

    “Too deep?” Logan asked. Turned on but concerned.

    “Nah man… it’s fucking intense though.”

    He paused for a second and I responded in turn. 

    “You need a break?” I asked him.

    “Not if you don’t, no,” he replied. I watched him pick up the special lube and wipe his fingers over his hardon. Logan had a beautiful dick and if he’d decided to pull out that toy and mount me, I would have been in heaven. 

    Instead he tossed me the container for me to slick up, too. We were gonna go for our nut now.

    No slow build up this time, me and Logan just worked our hips in hard, fast gyrations. Knowing how to sync up to dick each other. And now working our cocks.

    “I try not to be a slut, Dunc,” he hissed. “But a couple of times… I got passed around by a bunch of tops… it was so fucking hot.”

    “Jesus!” I grunted. 

    He smiled. “You wanna do that, Dunc?” His hands was working faster.

    “Maybe,” I said, letting my sex brain take over. “I don’t know. I’d love to watch that though.”

    Logan loved that idea. “Wanna watch your little brother take dick? Get fucking gang banged?”

    I could feel my nuts draw up. The only thing that was keeping me from firing already was that dull pounding of the hard rubber against my butt nut. Almost too hard. “Hell yeah. I wanna watch my muscle slut brother get fucking gang banged.”

    “Shit, Dunc!” Logan’s voice grew higher and I watched his whole body writhe in excitement and his cock fire out several shots of his cum.

    That was the trigger and I entered my own orgasm. I rode it out in waves, trying to lock eyes with my brother, but finally having to shut them as the inner sensation got too much.

    “Stop,” I hissed. Reaching down to grip the dildo between us. After my cum, the pleasure of it had gone away.

    “Sorry, Dunc,” Logan said softly. He lay still, his sperm on his muscled body, just like I was drenched in my own. 

    Slowly, we extracted ourselves from the double sided toy. I had no energy to get up, so Logan got out of bed and cleaned off the dildo. I heard the shower run then him padding around the place. He came back with two glasses of water and set one beside me on the nightstand. 

    “You OK, bro?” he asked. 

    I had shut my eyes and half dozed off. I opened them now. God, Logan was hot as fuck. Handsome, cute, muscley, the whole package. “Yeah… it’s just… a cum like that kind of knocks me out.”

    Logan smiled and leaned down. The kiss was crazy soft. I felt my heart pound. I reached up and ran my hand and long his strong forearm. 

    “Nice, bro,” he hissed.

    He helped me up and I showered off. When I got back into bed with him, he’d already changed the sheets. 

    He smiled as I snuggled up to him. 

    “Glad you could visit, Dunc,” he said.

    “It won’t be so long until the next,” I assured him. “You should come down too.”

    “I will.”

    We kissed, softly, and felt each other up.

    I smiled at him. “Logan….?”

    “Yeah, Dunc?”

    “I wish you’d fucked me just now,” I said. 

    “I can,” he said. 

    “I know it’s not how we’re wired,” I acknowledged.

    “It’d be hot,” he assured me. “And maybe you could…”

    “Yeah.”

    We kissed some more, then just kind of held each other.

    “Maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll be back up,” I said into his ear.

    “Anytime, Dunc. For real.”

    I patted his strong lats. “If you want to set something up. You know, with the same top, I’d be up for that.”

    “It’d be hot. But I’m not gonna push anything.”

    “I’ll let you in on a secret. I like it when my little bro gets me out of my comfort zone.”

    “Ready to be passed around, Dunc?” 

    I laughed. “Baby steps, OK?”

    We kissed some more. I didn’t want it to end. But I had an early flight to catch the next morning. So I finally rolled over and set my alarm. 

    “Maybe I can make it two weeks from now,” I said. It would have to be a shorter visit, but I could swing it.

    “You know I’d like that, Dunc.”


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


  • Moses’ awakening

    Principal Thompson, a man in his mid-forties, was a balding, muscular white man, whose physique hinted at an athletic past now softened by a layer of middle-aged padding. His most striking feature, however, was his truly enormous ass, a feature he often tried to downplay but which billowed conspicuously beneath his tailored trousers. He had a deep-seated complex. Ever since childhood, he’d harboured an inferiority complex about his own small penis, a vulnerability that had recently been brutally exacerbated when his wife had left him for a black man. The sight of Moses, radiating an easy, masculine confidence, was a fresh wound. Thompson couldn’t help but notice the prominent bulge in Moses’s basketball shorts, an innocent youthful endowment that, in Thompson’s distorted mind, screamed of a potential challenge to his already fragile masculinity. He suspected, no, he knew even Moses had a bigger dick than him.

    Shaquille in his 30’s, Moses’s father, was a force of nature. Standing at a towering 6’3”, he was the epitome of a dark, masculine black man, his frame a sculpted mass of muscle earned through hard living and harder work. A thick, well-maintained beard framed a jawline that could crack walnuts, and a single gold tooth flashed when he spoke, adding to his formidable aura. Tattoos snaked up his powerful arms, dark ink on dark skin, hinting at stories untold. He moved with the quiet menace of a predator, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. And beneath the expensive jeans, even through the casual fabric, there was no mistaking the formidable, arrogant swell of his manhood – easily ten inches of raw power.

    One afternoon, Moses, Shaquille’s son, decided to bunk off school. Assuming his father had left for work, the young boy made his way home, unaware of the carnal scene that awaited him upstairs.

    As Moses crept up the stairs, he was greeted by the sounds of primal grunting and slapping flesh. His curiosity piqued, he cautiously approached the slightly ajar door to his father’s room. He had unnoticeably caught his parents having sex before and watched them momentarily in the past. However, watching his parents have sex did not turn him on in the slightest. He was more aroused by the contrast of black men and white women he saw in his father’s interracial porn magazines stashed away in the attic. As he approached, he heard the wet gushy sound of what he assumed was his mother. “Damn I’ve never heard momma’s pussy make sounds like this before. Dad must be giving it to her good” he wondered.

    He curiously edges closer to the door and the noises of a thudding bed and pussy squelches grow even louder. As if he was in the room himself. Peering inside, Moses was met with a shocking sight. Principal Thompson’s arms splayed wide, surrendering completely and his scrunched up red face was buried in the mattress. An expression Moses will never forget. Moses felt his soul leave his body suddenly realising what he had stumbled upon. Conflictedly, he pushed the door open a little more. He saw his father’s dark hands around Thompson’s waist, nails sunken into his white flesh. Principal Thompson’s ample bubble butt bouncing, presented in a face-down, ass-up position. Moses pushed the door even further. Then he saw it, his father’s impressive tall muscular frame loomed over the principal, his dark skin glistening with sweat, moving like a piston, his massive cock digging aggressively within the man’s stretched hole. It was the hardest the young boy had ever seen it, and the sight sent a jolt of electricity through his own burgeoning sexuality. There, on his father’s king-sized bed, knelt Principal Thompson, his fat white cheeks raised high, presenting his pink, puckered hole to his father’s monster cock. The image was complete and deeply engraved in Moses psyche.

    “You been fighting this feeling for too long, huh? Now you know why you can’t resist the black man’s dick.” Shaquille growled, his deep voice dripping with disdain.

    Moses’ eyes widened as he took in the feral breeding assault unfolding before him, the words of his father resonating in his brain. His own dick jumping and twitching frantically, as if being called by a new found force and desire. He watched over the illicit scene, transfixed, as Shaquille verbally abused the principal, each degrading word pushing the man further into submission. “Yeah, bully my son and I’ll bully your pussy,” Shaquille growled, his voice low and menacing. “You keep coming for more huh, punk? Arch that big booty, you slut. Argh fuck, your pussy is prettier than my damn wife’s.”

    Principal Thompson whimpered like a little bitch, his white ass spasming around Shaquille’s thick, black shaft. “Oh god Shaquille, what are you doing to me?” He begged so “I never knew it could feel this good. Please, fuck me harder, make me your white slut!”

    “You white faggot, you fucking pussy, white bitch, you fucking cracker, you pathetic slut,” Shaquille growled, his voice low and menacing. “This is what you wanted, ain’t it? To be dominated by a real man, to have your ass stretched by black cock?”.

    Moses watched the two fluently interact in awe as Principal Thompson submitted more and more, even more eager with each assault. The deep pounding of his ass cheeks echoed through the house with each brutal thrust, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air. The mature white man moaned like a bitch in heat, his round, bubble-cheeked ass jiggling with each powerful thrust. “Yes, yes, please! I love the black man’s cock, I can’t believe I fought this feeling for so long,” he begged, looking back over his shoulder at Shaquille with desperate, hungry eyes. “Make it yours Shaquille… you say this pink hole is prettier than your wife’s? Then give it to me”

    Moses felt a surge of heat course through his veins, his dick fighting to be released in response to the feral breeding display before him. He couldn’t believe he was witnessing such a disgusting, depraved act in his own home. And yet, he found himself reaching down to unbuckle his belt. His dick found its way out with ease and he stroked his length vigorously, the friction of his foreskin creating moist popping sounds of euphoria.

    Shaquille’s low hanging heavy balls slapping against the principal’s ass cheeks with each brutal thrust. “Fuck yeah that pink hole is the prettiest thing I’ve seen. I’m starting to love the way it clenches around my dick white boy! You enjoy getting your big bubble butt fucked by a real man, don’t you? You’re made for black cock, goddamn it!”

    Moses’ excitement reached a fever pitch as he stroked his own hardening cock with vigor. The sounds of Principal Thompson’s ass cheeks slapping against Shaquille’s thrusts echoed into his mind, mingling with his own labored breathing as he frantically beat his dick.

    “Yes, yes, I’m made for it! Please, fill me up! I want to feel that big load deep inside me, marking me as your property!” Principal Thompson begged shamelessly, his face buried in the mattress as he pushed back to meet Shaquille’s savage strokes.

    Moses couldn’t help but stroke faster, his cum beginning to seep from his pink tip as he enviously glared at his own father pounding the white principal’s ass. He pumped his fist furiously with rage and jealousy, imagining the principal’s tight, pink hole clenched around his own sturdy black cock. Suddenly, he came hard, pulsing in voluminous spurts, long ropes of thick black seed covered all the door and floor. Breathing heavily, he quickly retreated,  in utter disbelief leaving the bedroom door ajar.

    Moses, having witnessed the primal encounter, and knew he had a lot to live up to in the future – and a lot to learn from his father’s example of dominant, ruthless seduction.

    Shaquille continued to claim the principal’s body. Shaquille, lost in his own carnal pleasure, barely registered the sudden commotion. He continued to fuck Mr. Thompson with relentless intensity, his deep, guttural moans filling the room as he used Principal Thompson’s ass.

    The older white gentleman was now whimpering, his body trembling with submission. “Sir… I… I c-can’t… resist… your black cock… it’s so much bigger… so deep… so good…”

    Shaquille grunted, slamming into the principal’s stretched hole with renewed fury. Principal Thompson’s fat white man’s cheeks jiggling furiously under the growing intensity. “That’s right, take it all, you pathetic white boy. You’re made for my black cock, you won’t be using that limp white dick after this.” He laughed in between catching his breath.

    The wet gush sounds from his pink pussy continuously filled the room as Shaquille pounded him with ruthless intensity. “Unnngh… damn right… I… I love black cock… this is… exactly what I’ve always imagined… the real man’s cock… black cock claiming me… ruining my pink pussy…”

    Shaquille seized the principal’s hips now clambering on top, and holding him in place as he thrust deeper, his massive cock triggering aftershocks of pleasure through the man’s body. “You’re MY white bitch now, ain’t ya? Gonna take my cum whenever I want? Huh? beg for it like the needy slut you are. I’m not gonna want to fuck my wife anymore after this”

    Principle Thompson sobbed, overpowered by the intense pleasure and humiliation. “Y-yes… Sir… please… fill me… breed me… make me your white bitch…”

    Shaquille roared his triumph, his balls tightening as he prepared to unleash his seed deep into the principal’s hole. “Here it comes, you fucking whore! Take my load, you white cocksucker!” With a guttural moan, Shaquille exploded, his massive cock pumping endless torrents of hot cum into the principal’s ass. The man convulsed, his own orgasm triggered by the intense feeling of Shaquille’s seed flooding his insides. He had marked him as his property. The principal whimpered in pain and pleasure, his own orgasm rippling through him.

    As Shaquille slowly withdrew, the principal collapsed onto the bed, his body drenched in sweat and his ass a glistening mess of cum and fluids. Shaquille inspected the marvel he had just created. With one hand he gently spread a cheek to reveal principal Thompson’s gaping pink hole and waves of thick creamy cum spewing out. He instinctively wanted to leave a lasting impression on Mr. Thompson, now face to face, whispered aggressively, “You keep coming for black cock, you cracker. The white man’s pink hole was made for black men to fuck.”

    The principal, still reeling from his intense fucking, merely moaned in agreement. “I love black cock,” he confessed, his words barely audible over the pounding of his own heart. “I can’t believe I fought this feeling for so long.”

    Shaquille then stood over him proudly, his massive, cock still hard , his chest heaving with exertion. His dark cock glistened with interracial juices. He smeared his bulbous head onto the principal’s lips, commanding, “You better clean up this mess before my son gets home,” his voice still rough with lust. “And don’t think for a second this is over, you hear me? I’ll be coming for you again, whenever I want.”

    The principal obediently licked Shaquille’s black cock clean, starting at the head and lapped up the remnant juices that trailed to Shaquille’s low dangling balls, then pushed himself up to survey the mess he’d made. Shaquille, pleased with the principal’s submission, tossed him aside and began to clean up the mess. As he stood in the doorway, wiping his still-hard cock with a towel, he caught a glimpse of cum splatters dripping down the side of his door to the floor. A foreshadowing testament to the his son’s forbidden desires.

    He was panicked at first but then a wicked grin spread across Shaquille’s face. His son was not only learning from his example but also seemed to be developing a taste for it. The giant black man chuckled to himself, knowing that his legacy of sexual dominance would live on through the next generation.

    From that day on, Moses became increasingly aware of his father’s actions, his own desires intensifying as a result. The lines between family, authority, and sexuality had blurred, setting the stage for further explorations into the dark recesses of desire and depravity… of fucking older white men.


    If you haven’t already check out my story ‘The Interview’ to see read about Moses 6 years later…

  • My Horny Straight Friend

    I walked out of the shower with a towel loosely wrapped around my hips. Drops of water were running down my chest, my hair still wet. Max was sitting in the living room, scrolling through something on his phone, completely relaxed, a beer next to him on the table. The perfect moment to throw in another provocation.

    “Max,” I said in a tone as casual as if I were asking about the weather. “Will you shave my butt? I can’t reach it myself.”

    His head shot up from his phone like a spring. At first, he looked at me in silence, as if he had to make sure he had heard correctly. Then he burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Dude, are you out of your fucking mind?!” he snorted.

    I didn’t flinch. I leaned against the doorframe and shrugged. “What? You scared? It’s just an ass. And no one’s gonna see you anyway.” I deliberately tugged the towel a little higher, as if it were about to slip off.

    “You’re fucked up,” he repeated, but this time not as confidently. I saw the way he glanced to the side, the way he let out a sigh of resignation.

    “Can’t handle it?” I added provocatively, raising an eyebrow.

    He sighed heavily, like someone fighting with himself. Finally, he said, “Okay, give me that trimmer.”

    And that’s when I noticed something that told me more than words ever could. He spoke reluctantly, but his eyes flashed differently. He bit his lip as he reached for his beer, as if to hide his embarrassment. His agreement seemed forced, but I already knew: he wasn’t so reluctant after all.

    “Perfect,” I thought, feeling my plan move to the next level.

    I lay down on my stomach and let the towel slide to the floor. Without a hint of shame, I pushed my ass up, giving him full access. I heard Max swallow hard before turning on the trimmer. Its low hum filled the room, and a moment later I felt the cool touch of the blade gliding over my skin.

    For the first few seconds, there was silence. He was breathing heavily, focused, as if he were actually doing something important. But I knew he wouldn’t last long.

    “You’ve got a nice ass…” he blurted out suddenly, in a low voice, as if talking to himself. “Seriously, so muscular, perfect.”

    A smile came to my lips. I was about to say something, but he seemed startled by his own words and quickly added, “I need to squeeze, just to hold the skin.”

    And he did. His hand clenched my buttock. Firmly, confidently, too long for a simple “hold.” Then he did it again, and again, each time pretending it was part of the trim, but I could feel he was starting to take pleasure in it.

    My head was boiling over. “My plan is working. He’s getting pulled in deeper. Just yesterday he pretended it meant nothing, and now he’s got my ass in his hands and won’t let go.”

    He moved the trimmer slower than necessary, his fingers gliding over my skin more often than the blade did. Every touch electrified me more and more. I clenched my fingers around the pillow just to keep from letting out a moan.

    “Okay, that’s enough,” I muttered, pretending to be indifferent, even though my heart was pounding like crazy. “Looks like you’re done.”

    I was about to get up when his hand stopped me. “Wait,” Max said. “Your skin will be irritated. You need lotion.”

    I raised my eyebrows and turned my head slightly. “That wasn’t part of the plan,” I thought, but I didn’t protest. I lay there, waiting to see what he would come up with.

    I heard him rummaging through the bathroom shelf, moving bottles around. “Don’t you have any lotion?” he asked after a moment.

    “I forgot to buy some,” I replied. “Let’s just forget about it, it’s no big deal.”

    “Wait, wait…” he interrupted. “You have some gel here.”

    “It’s lube,” I said dryly, wanting to throw him off the scent.

    There was silence, but only for a moment. “It’s better than nothing,” he muttered. And before I could say anything, I heard the distinctive click of the tube.

    “What are you…” I started, but stopped when I felt the cool, slippery gel being spread on my buttocks.

    After the trimmer I never had any irritation anyway, so I knew it wasn’t about grooming, it was just an excuse to touch me.

    I opened my eyes wider. Max’s warm fingers rubbed the lube in slowly, thoroughly, as if he wanted to make sure that not a single inch of skin was missed. I was in shock, I felt like I had suddenly lost control.

    “I was supposed to be the one provoking him,” pounded in my head. “And now he’s the one diving deeper and deeper into my game.”

    My stomach muscles were tense, my cock was digging into the mattress, pulsing harder with every second. I was on the edge, and I knew Max knew it.

    Max’s fingers moved lower and lower. First, he rubbed the gel widely over my buttocks, then narrowed his movements, focusing closer to the center. I felt his fingertip slide back and forth along the crack, bolder and bolder, slower and slower. I held my breath so as not to betray how much it was turning me on.

    Suddenly, I felt his finger stop right on my hole. A short press, as if he was testing the ground. And then, gently, uncertainly, but clearly, he slid the tip inside. My body trembled.

    “Fuck…” slipped out of my mind, though I didn’t say anything out loud.

    And then I heard his half-whisper. Almost imperceptible, but clear enough to leave no doubt. “Oh yes… good.”

    I turned my head sharply. “What did you say?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t sure, even though I knew perfectly well.

    Max straightened up, as if caught red-handed. “Nothing, nothing… just to myself,” he replied quickly, pulling his hand back slightly.

    But I already knew everything. My cock was throbbing, hard as a rock, pressed against the mattress. One glance at Max was enough to see the same thing in him, the bulge in his pants leaving no doubt.

    Max suddenly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. I was left with a smile on my face, because I knew exactly what he’d gone in there to do. Every move he made only confirmed it: he was starting to crack.


    If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.

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