Author: admin

We’ll call them Bill and Joe, two nice guys, good fathers, good husbands, work at decent jobs, don’t philander, come home on time, do as much as the “honey do” list as they could without burning down the house, made sure there was gas in both cars, played with the children…..men any guy would be proud to know. 

Now lets meet their wives, Helen and Mary, two suburban housewives who nominally have what they want, a faithful husband, 2.3 children, a Labrador retriever and sex on demand. Unless they have a headache or want something which has to be earned by what they call, having heard the term at a PTA meeting, “Cock Work”. Problem there was that no two sides of this rapidly demolishing equation ever wanted sex at approximately the same time or in the same way. Lets just assume that for Bill and Joe to get a piece, they had to start on their knees, perhaps end up in cuffs, and, even then, go to sleep, still cuffed but unfulfilled. 

To a degree they went along with this as, after a while, they found that at best, they were protecting their assets which they’d paid for and, no, this did not include “Cock Work” which they assumed to be a fringe benefit for both parties. Trouble is, that was rapidly becoming labour and management with labour treated like second class citizens in the home for which they’d paid. 

On Saturday morning, while reviewing the rather long list of things he was expected to do, Joe found a note at the end that said, “Honey, do all this and then I’m all yours.” What Joe knew was they she might as well have a headache for if he did all that she wanted, he’d be too tired to get up the stairs much less get it up; He could see sleeping on the couch as a viable alternative to unrewarded work. 

Else where Bill was having the parallel experience save that he was offered nothing at the end of the day save he’d have to get his own dinner as she was taking the children and going to her mother’s for the weekend. So…sweaty, hot, covered with crap from working on the lawn, exhausted from nothing but work, he put down the list, sat on the bumper of his (almost paid for) pick up and thought. Next door Joe was having something like that with only one exception, his wife was  going for a week.. 

The two men saw each other, looked up, a hang dog expression, both held up a piece of paper and suddenly begin to laugh more from hysteria and despair than anything else. They met at the fence.

“I fucking cannot do all this, it’s too much….Christ, what does she do all week, ball the UPS driver?”
“Same here and….I think I did some of these things last week or at least a few weeks ago. How often can the drains need to have the leaves removed? It isn’t fall and it hasn’t rained.”

In the back of their minds was the subject of sex as, lately, it always had been. Or at least the vision of it since the reality was steadily becoming a memory of, frankly, an unpleasant experience in which neither of them could be said to have gotten off much of anything.
And now that the braying cow Oprah was preaching that things must change. Bill and Joe looked at each other and saw, not just a neighbor, but a fellow man, one who had needs, desires that went beyond weeding the Gazania patch. They thought about it, about their youth that was only a few years behind them, they still looked pretty good and, thanks to living with Charles Atlas and her working program were pretty well put together. 

Bill wondered how to bring up the topic but he had to know for if he was right, he and his buddy had crossed the finish line in that they were finished. “Joe, uh, how long has it been since you got, you know, any?”
“Any what? Fleas? I got those sleeping with the damn dog. I suppose you mean sex…I can answer that if you can tell me that lifespan of a rat.”
They looked at each other and no answer was required. Then they looked at themselves. Old shorts, an old T shirt, boots just to protect their toes from the lawn mower, uncut hair, unshaven face….They were their own rock on which their ships had crashed.

“What if….this is crazy…but what if she came home, not a fucking thing had been done, the house was filled with guys playing poker, beer bottle empties everywhere….what would she do?”
“Pull an Irwin Rommel on you and outfox you in battle, throw the visiting troops out, tie you to the dryer and whip you with the vacuum cord until you promised to never, ever do it again. That’s just before she got out the electric knife and cut off your balls…”
“Why bother? mine are already dead from lack of use, no return policy and the warranty has run out.”
“Don’t give up on me, buddy, this could work. How many guys do we know right now who are being used as beasts of burden on a Saturday, one of the few days we get release from work to turn it in for more work and no pay. Hell, if she paid me, I’d do all of this…”
“And if mine paid me I’d fuck her till the cows come up. I don’t care what she wanted, for cash, she’d get it.”
“You can kiss that idea goodbye. But….As I recall from some dumb psychology class, Freud said you don’t really appreciate something unless you have to pay for it.”
“Well, you couldn’t be more underappreciated than we are and it’s for damn sure they’ll never pay for it.”

“Maybe and maybe not. Seems to me what motivates a woman as much as anything is to get something someone else has even if they don’t need it.”
“Maybe but…there’s nothing about us that would make either of them jealous, just pissed off because the door jamb wasn’t fixed.”
“What about sex?”
“What about it?”
“You can bet they’d be jealous if they weren’t getting any and some friend of theirs was now wouldn’t they?”
“Like that would happen. I’d wake up chained to the bed with her sitting on my cock milking me. She’ll get sex.”
“Don’t get down on yourself.” He wandered around the garage, took two beers from the refrigerator they kept for bargains that had to be refrigerated and gave it to his buddy.
“At this hour?”
“Yep, at this hour, and while you chug that one I’m going to call Jerry and then it’s time to get cleaned up.”
“Jerry? Gay Jerry? The former Marine, that Jerry?”
“Drink up.” And to set an example tipped his can up until you could hear it glug more than three times.

Jerry rolled on the floor when he heard the idea. Got right with the program and said he’d be right over.
That done, Bill collected Joe, tossed out the empties on the drive way and headed indoors. “Time to get clean, showered up.”
“At this hour?”
“Yeah, at this hour, and there’s a good reason, you’re taking a shower with me.”
The shock on the other man’s face wasn’t too bad it was just shock.
“I don’t want to take a shower with you, this isn’t a gym, it’s your home, your bathroom….”
“Okay, if you’d prefer, we can go to your place, shower there…..”
“I don’t want to take a shower with you…..that’s….some sort of a gay thing.”
“Right, and that’s why I asked Jerry to come over, he’s going to teach us how to have gay sex.”
“Cocksucker….”
“Precisely, we’re both gonna be good cocksuckers and we won’t be alone. Now come on, we’ll use the downstairs bath, the shower’s bigger.”

Joe did not get go easily but at least he did go. Then stood in one end of the shower as if he were a virgin caught behind a waterfall.
“Oh for the love of God.” And pulled down his hand covering his cock and balls. “I’ve seen ’em before and I mean yours. Now, get over here while I soap you up.”
Using shampoo, he started at the top and worked his way down until he hit the man meat department where the object of his cleanliness almost retreated into his descending colon. Paying no attention, Bill worked his balls, even though they tried to escape, his cock, put a finger back where on himself he often caused cum by massaging his prostate, and finally got him to full erection. “You cannot tell me that doesn’t feel good. Now, take your hand, I’ll put some shampoo in in it and you can work on me. Get me up and ready.”
Joe looked as if he’d been asked to fuck his own mother in church during services. 

“Hey where are you guys?” The pleasant baritone of Jerry intruded with the sound of water..
“Hey, we’re in here, come on in, there’s room for one more.”
Jerry got out of his shoes, let his cammies hit the floor, pulled off his T shirt-revealing a finely crafted chest as well as some normal Marine tattoos and stepped in. Put out his hand and was rewarded with it being filled first with shampoo then being told to start on Joe who was being resistant.
“Pleasure. Always did like both of you…..”
“Here’s the deal, keep working on him, please, we need sex and since we’re not getting it at home..well, where else is there than each other, man to man sex.”
“I like the way you think already”, said Jerry as he ran a hand down Joe’s spine and around to his nut house.
“But not just us, we all know guys, hell, they complain about it all the time, that don’t get the fucking they deserve for the pussy they’re paying for so….”
“Joe, look up, you’re going to enjoy this”. Jerry seemed insistent so Jerry looked up. Just in time to feel an arm go around him and two lips cover his.
There was a silence while Joe got kissed, Jerry got hot and Bill thought of further elaborations of his plan while idly jerking off.

Joe was not precisely in Seventh Heaven nor was he in hell but he started the trip up the scale when Jerry got on his knees, took his now rigid organ in his mouth and began to play it. Bill watched with interest then, figuring you learned by doing, got down on the shower floor, took Jerry’s cannon sized dick into his mouth and practiced what he thought was a blow job by sucking.
“Okay, guys, rinse down, dry up and it’s time to hit the beds.”
“Beds?”
“Bed…you’ve got a king sized don’t you Bill?”
“Then that’s were the lessons go next; First sucking and then….”
“Oh my God, no, not that, I’m a virgin…..’
“What about those kids?”
“Well, I mean back there I’m a virgin.”
“Great, never had two virgins in one day and with old friends, too. Hey, what you got in the way of lube? And it better not be Mentholatum or shit like that, that’s for more advanced work; Pain and Pleasure.”
Joe almost fainted.

Jerry said, “I know lots of guys who are just like you two, nice guys but not appreciated so….they come to me for what I can give which is, sex of course, but some male bonding time. You know, not the proverbial man cave, watch a game sort, but just two guys being together, talking about whatever, sex…whatever they like, sometimes they spend the night but….they always go home. I could ask a couple of them to come by and…..”
“Here? Oh my God, Jerry, this won’t look good. Bill, tell him, this won’t look good,…”
“It’ll look great! Wow five or six guys all relaxed, having a beer maybe watching a game letting Jerry teach us new ways to play games with each other…and I bet they’ll know more guys….right, Jerry?”
“Yeup”. He was momentarily occupied trying to get Joe’s mouth around at least the head of his cock. “Lots of guys….”

Some while later there were now seven men in various stages of undress, but mostly nude, in Bill’s house learning and then practicing what they’d been shown. With the exception of Bill and Joe there were no virgins so that meant there were two cherries available which Jerry thought would be best taken by the two guys themselves. Joe, what else is new?, almost cried when a pillow was put under his tummy, his hands already cuffed and his ankles tied to the bed posts. Jerry apologized but, it was the only way to get him where he needed to be and, besides, it may be that in the future, he’d like being tied down when he was fucked; Many men do. Bill had gone first with Joe as a frightened audience as he watched Jerry’s good sized schlong disappear into his buddy and neighbor. Bill only whimpered a bit but after not too long, his eyes crossed with pleasure and someone had to put something in his mouth as he was screaming, “Beat me Mama, Eight to the bar”. He was immediately converted to gay sex which proved to be just like any other sex save that you only needed men. 

Later in the evening, after a major beer run, the guys sat around discussing what was proving to be a highly interesting idea; No sex for women. Simple as that. If some wife or girlfriend got real insistent, sleep on a couch or, a list was made, sleep at the home of someone who wasn’t married. That solved two problems; Where to sleep and where to fuck. They’d go right on being good husbands, go to work, support their families just as ever until it became time to go to bed and she “wanted some”. Then the answer was a simple “No” and he was to roll over. 

Obviously a party and thought patrol as good as this was too small for one home so Sunday Found the newly initiated man sex participants at a larger home further in the country, well secluded and with a big swimming pool. By now the group was over 20 and, based on phone calls and idea sharing on places like Facebook, the idea was zipping around the country. Gay men were opening their homes to married men who were going to be harried by ingrate wives who thought that a cock came with a title in her name. It wasn’t so.

That evening Bill’s wife tried to open the garage door with her door opener but no deal. She and the kids finally got in the old fashioned way, she broke a window and crawled in. The moment she turned on one light terror struck her. Clearly there’d been violence done and her home, her beautiful cared for home was a shambles. Nothing was broken but there were glass stains on furniture, the smell of a brewery was everywhere, beer cans and bottles….it was enough to make her cry. Up the stairs to find the most comforting thing in her life, her husband. She stopped on the stairs. What if Bill had been injured? Worse, dead. What if malevolent bikers had taken him and her home and trashed both of them. She went up the last six risers two at a time and into their bedroom where she found Bill sound asleep as if nothing had happened. 

Interesting isn’t it, how fear can change to anger so quickly. Like finding a missing child and then raining hell on them for the ordeal they’d put you through. That’s what Bill was treated to. Then, when she ran down on that subject, she told him to get out of bed and go clean up. Everything, every can, bottle, pizza box, all of it. He sat up, put his feet and legs over the edge of the bed looked at her for a time and said, “No”.
A long pause while she absorbed the shock and he prepared for the next volley. It was coming.
“Did you hear me, get out of that bed and get your sorry ass into some clothes and go clean up this house and I’m not kidding or you’ll never see my pussy again.”
“Fine, I don’t give a rip for your snatch, it’s been so little used by me it’s probably grown closed. So, not now and not in the future. If you want sex, find a door knob.”
At that he got up and left the room dragging a sheet, a blanket and carrying a pillow. “I’ll be on the couch so don’t run the vacuum near it.”

Hers was not the only unhappy household that morning as women found out that the power of the vagina had lost its power. Great to pee with but…as for their men, a dead issue. Shock, disbelief, telephone calls back and forth. Outrage, annoyance, how could they do that to them but it occurred to them, all they had to do was wait a day or three and the lure of the bash on the beauty rest would prove to be too strong. They’d be back.

In a sense, they got part of it right, the pull of sex did get their men into bed for sex but it was with other men. There was an upside no one had ever much thought of, a man had all the holes a woman did, just placed differently plus they held the key to put into the lock. Stunningly simple logic and, of course, as gay men have known ever since Adam or Adrian first fucked Evian, men felt just as good as women, better really as there were no internal plumbing problems to avoid. Men never had “that time of the month:”, men , once properly schooled, got over the long held Puritanical notion that sex with another man, was evil, immoral. Fuck Onan spilling his seed upon the ground; Had he looked a little further, he would have found some receptive hole and no spilled seed. Also, men would do things with and to each other that women would not. Lots of things wouldn’t do save those few who were kinky and, frankly, then they wanted to run the dungeon which wasn’t the point of the drill.

It was a slow starting movement, these things always are, but men everywhere began to evaluate their lives and the lives they had with women and found for all the tumult and the shouting, they were getting the fucking. Maybe women weren’t paid as much, they’d admit that and the answer was to equalize wages but the stumbling ranch style was home where women, having been told by Oprah, Dr. Phil, Dr. Oz and a flotilla of other “advisors” that they were getting a raw deal, stand up, demand what they wanted. The only fly in that Latte was that women, at home, weren’t really sure what they wanted. If they didn’t want children, why did they have them in the first place? If they only married their men because all the other girls were, whose fault was that? Sure, he could’ve said, no, perhaps should have but he was in love with her. Wanted her to bear his children, wanted to provide a home and family and now, according to all the advice they’d been given, they thought that wasn’t what they really wanted. And that included sex.

It didn’t take long for women to find out what men were doing for sex and it wasn’t hard to discover, they were told. More over, they were told that sex with a guy was great, felt better than they did, didn’t deny them six our of seven nights and went waaaay beyond what she’d ever do. If the wife snorted and said something like, “I’ll bet”, they were told precisely what they’d done which caused the lady to sit rather abruptly on something. Their answer that, of course, they wouldn’t do it, that was degrading to women. Okay said the guys, we’re doing you a favor, we’re not degrading you when we do it and we’re having a great time. We’re coming home to you, the bills are paid and you’re not degrading into having sex with a dirty, rotten man who does nothing but demean you. You wanted something like this, all your two dimensional buddies told you this is what you wanted and now….you’ve got it.

The sex really was great and it was guilt free as no one felt they were cheating on anyone. For those gay couples who were monogamous, terrific, this had nothing to do with them. This was about men who wanted their own form of equality that they thought they’d got when they married. Too many could remember times when the little cock tease had used the trite expression, “When we’re married….”. What a load of bullshit that was. Once they’d had children, their use as a sperm donor disappeared except to other guys who loved that sperm, couldn’t get enough of it where ever it might be made available. You could now have a quickly if you were feeling horny in the mens can at the office or the warehouse or the barracks or wherever there were men. And if a man wasn’t interested, fine, this was personal choice and one they’d made.

A year or so later Bill and Jerry were sitting in Bill’s garage watching the little woman get out a tree stump. Even applauded when it came free.
“Ya know buddy, this was one fuckin’ fine idea. Hey, ever tried to 69 a guy laying on your side through a picket fence?”

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Another warm day. Today, John, the coach, is determined to approach Steven again. During the last few soccer sessions, he decided to leave him alone, so he can process the experience they shared. But John can’t hold himself back any longer. Up until now, Steven did his best to ignore him, avoiding eye contact and conversation. The coach would not continue to accept this.

All the guys are gathered in the sports hall. The coach instructs them to start a match and stands at the sideline. He observes all these young, fit, male students in their short pants and tanktops. He listens as they shout, he watches as each of them starts to sweat, accumulating glistening drops on their foreheads. And he especially watches Steven. The coach is under the impression that Steven got more ripped during the last few weeks – and indeed, he remembers seeing Steven and his buddy Craig in the weightlifting room more than once. They must be going there regularly, the coach muses. The shoulders of 19-year old Steven have gotton broader, his upper arms more beefy. The same applies to Craig, the handsome blonde bully, although he’s been one shredded guy since quite some time, despite being only a few months older than Steven.

„Myers, you pussy!“, Craig – being the captain of his team – shouts in the direction of one of his team members „wake up man!“. Apparently the guy did not behave in a way Craig approves, and in such cases the blonde stud always calls his colleagues out, sometimes justified, sometimes not. At this point, Craig moved closer towards the coach, so John can see him clearly. Craig’s legs are quite hairy. Further, the guy’s neck and forehead is completely sweaty and he’s got a huge wet stain at the backside of his shirt. John tries to get even closer in order to sniff him, but Craig already starts running away to another position. „Damn“, the coach thinks.

Shortly before end of classes, the coach approaches Steven: „Meet me in the teacher’s room when this is finished!“

Steven, to John’s surprise, simply nods.

When they meet in the teacher’s room of the sports hall, they just awkwardly stand there in front of each other.

„Steven, I need you.“, the coach finally says.

Steven says nothing, just looks at him, then around the room, then down to the floor. His dark-brown hair is ruffled, sweat drops are rolling down his neck. He is pretty exhausted, but also sexy.

„I will not allow you to force me doing things!“, Steven tries to assert himself.

„Come on“, the coach smiles, „you enjoyed it as much as I did“.

„The things you did…“, Steven whispers, „man I can’t respect you anymore!“

„Then I’ll have to teach you some respect!“, the coach declares.

„What is it you want?“, Steven inquires.

„How about raising that arm of yours?“, John says, touching Steven’s right arm.

„Didn’t have enough of that shit?“, Steven utters.

„No, dude.“

Steven raises his arm. John approaches. His nose is one inch away from Steven’s hairy, sweaty armpit. His moist pit hair even touches John’s nose. The coach inhales. A strong, fresh yet naughty sweat smell fills John’s nose.

„Whoa, Steven!“, he simply says, and continues: „I can smell your pit funk!“.

„Sure you can. It’s been a warm day so far and I scored many times!“

„Yeah. Mmh let me sniff some more…. Phew it smells!“, the coach moans, not even realizing that Steven unpacks his dick and starts to jerk off. While John is happily sniffing his armpit, Steven suddenly lets out a big moan, demanding: „Tell me I stink!“

„What?“, asks the coach, surprised. Apparently Steven likes dirty-talking, and yes, Steven even likes what the coach is doing to him. Until now, John thought Steven doesn’t really care much. But of course – the boy is turned on by this as well, otherwise he wouldn’t have let it come to this again.

The coach smiles, takes in another breath: The raw, primal scent of a fit young man after lots of sports. Coach confirms: „You stink, Steven.“

Steven is silent for a moment, eyes closed, just jerking off. Then he says, with a trembling voice: „Damn right!“

„Yeah. Doesn’t your girlfriend complain about the smell when you fuck her?“

„She did once or twice, but then I just held a hand over her mouth and fucked her silly.“, Steven ponders, with a carefree expression on his face.

„So you rape her?“, the coach inquires.

„Well in the end she’s always happy.“

„Does she have an orgasm?“

„Don’t know.“, Steven says with a shrug of his shoulders.

The coach just rolls his eyes and takes in another sniff.

„Tell me how strong the smell is!“, Steven demands.

„Real strong, boy!“

„Don’t call me ‚boy’!“, Steven requests angrily, „I’m a man!“.

„Alright, man!“, John says, trying to hide his amusement.

Steven’s voice gets louder: „Sniff! I wanna hear you sniff my pit!“

The coach does what is demanded of him. Sniffing loudly, deeply. Overwhelmed by the teen’s underarm scent, he moans: „Woaaaaaahhhh“.

„Mhh yeah sniff that unwashed pit. Like how hairy it is?“

„Man please don’t shave it! I can smell your manstink.“, the coach confirms, secretly filled with joy that Steven cooperates.

„Sniffing armpits is fucking nasty. You know how old I am, right?“, Steven asks, already aware that John knows his age.

„You’re 19, man. All you guys are 18 or 19. And you’re all smelly young fuckers!“

And Steven goes on: „Tell me I stink more than the other guys!“

John complies: „Steven, the others merely smell. You stink!“

„Tell me my smell is stronger than Craig’s!“

The coach raises an eyebrow: „Wh… what?“

„Say it!“

„Your pit smell is way stronger than Craig’s!“

Steven moans… jerking off silently… then starts talking again: „That’s right. I’m a stinker. Sniff my hairy pit. It’s hairier than Craig’s…..Woah my pits are ripe…. Mhhhh I like people noticing my smell…“

„They can’t help but notice, Steven“ the coach affirms, still with his nose in Steven’s pit, though by now more fascinated by Steven’s behaviour than odour.

„Don’t call me Steven. Call me Walls!“ That’s Steven’s family name. Most of his friends and team members call him that way.

„Tell me I stink!“, Steven demands again, „And say my name!“.

„You stink, Walls!“, the coach says firmly.

„Again, louder!“

„You stink!!“, the coach says, louder than before, „your teenage pit odour is really offensive!“.

„Maybe one day I let you sniff my feet, that’s gonna knock you out!“, Steven teases.

„Yeah dude I’d love that!“, the coach says.

Steven increases the volume of his voice: „Fuck I’m gonna stink up the whole room with my manly pits! Tell me you adore that Walls stench! Tell my how bad it is!“, Steven requests, jerking off hard.

„Love the sweat stench, man! I smelled on many guys during sports classes, but you dirty bastard really are one of a kind!“

„Nastier than all the others! Come on, tell me how bad it is!“

The coach plays along… and says: „Man I’m soon gonna pass out because of your pit stench!“

„Fuck yes, I stink… My pit hair is stinky… It’s fucking disgusting! I can smell it myself. Phew… Tell me again, loud!“

„Man you stink! Your pits are rank!“

„Say I’m disgusting!“

„Walls, you are truly disgusting!“

„Fuck yeah! I’m a real stinker, a man!! Ahh…. my pits are so wet… fuck yessssss…..fuck, tell me!!!“

„YOU STINK!… I inhale your stink. It’s fucking bad, believe me. It’s fucking strong!!“, the coach shouts loudly. Coach is not lying – the smell really is intense.

„Armpit stink!“ Steven simply shouts, looking at the ceiling, pressing his pit closer against John.

The coach confirms: „Armpit stink, man! Woah… Dirty Walls armpit funk!“

„Armpit stink!!“, Steven shouts again, like a mantra.

„Yeah, stinking up the whole room!“, the coach cheers.

„Armpit stink!“, Steven keeps shouting, some drops of sweat running down his temples. The buff biceps of the arm with which he forcefully masturbates is tense, showing the vein.

„Your pit funk is making me dizzy!“, John howls.

„Armpit stink!! I got hairy armpits!!“

„Man you got a nasty, reeking jungle in there!“

„ARMPIT STINK!!!“, Steven yells without any inhibitions, so loud that coach worries somebody could hear them from outside the room.

– Then, Steven explodes: „Ahhhhhh fuuuuuckk… ahhhh I got hairy armpits….aahhh yessss…. so hairy… fuckkkk…. ahhh… Craig’s armpits!!… AHHHHHHH!!!!“

Steven shoots all over John’s trousers, breathing heavily. After an intense orgasm, he grabs a nearby chair and sits down, leaning back, eyes closed.

After some time, the coach asks: „Are you ok?“

Steven blinks at him, whispering: „Sure.“

The coach is curious: „Erm…. why did you mention Craig’s armpits when you came?“

„What? I didn’t do that!“

„Yes you did, right before you came!“

Steven looks down and starts to blush, saying nothing.

„Tell me!“, the coach demands.

„Don’t know. Since last time… Damn I don’t know. You did something with me! It’s like a spell or something!“

„Go on!“, the coach commands.

„You know, Craig’s got hairy pits too. I just imagined me checking whether they smell as mine do.“, Steven admits.

The coach asks with a smirk on his face: „You really imagined sniffing the armpit of your friend? The captain of your team?“

„No… I mean, yeah but I’d never do that! It’s gross. It was just…. I don’t know what it was. You manipulate me!“

„No I don’t, you little fucker. I just trigger what’s already inside you.“, the coach states calmly.

Steven is silent, stands up and starts to move to the door.

„Wait, man. Now it’s my turn!“

„What?“

„Haha, you really thought only you are gonna cum?“

„There’s nothing more I can do! Just jerk off, man!“

The coach smiles: „Oh, there’s more you can do.“

Steven rolls his eyes. He really wants to leave, but he also enjoys the interest of the coach, who, after all, is a person of authority and a fully grown man.

„Stand here! I’m gonna lick your chin.“, the coach instructs.

„My… my chin?“, Steven is puzzled.

„Yeah. Gonna lick that beard you have on your chin.“, the coach explains, meaning Steven’s thick, goatee-style beard which he wears since a few months, although without a moustache.

The coach goes on: „But first, let some spit drool down your chin, so it’s soaked up by the beard.“

Steven looks confused.

„Is there a question?“, the coach asks impatiently.

„No“, Steven responds, „but you really are a pervert.“

„Oh that’s nothing, trust me.“, the coach laughs.

Steven does as the coach commands, letting out some spit that’s flowing down his hairy chin.

„Good“ – the coach seems pleased. He starts opening up his big mouth, moves to Steven, and puts his mouth all over Steven’s chin, engulfing the whole of Steven’s chin beard.

If someone else stood in the room, the scene presented to that person could only be considered „weird“: Steven just stands there, and the coach’s mouth is pressed against his chin, like a fish that’s caught on a fishing rod.

In his mouth, John feels Steven’s thick, warm, hard facial hair. And he tastes the salty blend of sweat and Steven’s spit. He then starts sucking on the hair, jerking off at the same time.

The coach withdraws for a moment, commanding: „More spit! Let it flow!“.

And Steven pours out more spit, flowing down his chin, being sucked up by the coach who is sucking on his black chin beard like a madman.

After some time, the coach steps back again, saying: „Give me some pit funk!“, grabbing Steven’s right arm and pushing it up, diving into the exposed, hairy armpit. John licks Steven’s armpit sweat for a few seconds, and moans: „Ahhhhhhh!!“. Then he returns to his former position and again licks and sucks Steven’s beard.

Again, a minute or so passes, and the coach steps back, instructing Steven: „Raise both of your arms and keep them up! And keep that fucking spit flowing!“.

Steven raises his arms and whispers: „That’s what you like, right? Me stinking up the room!“

„Yeah, and feeling the roughness of your beard on my tongue!“

John continues jerking off with his mouth glued to Steven’s chin, licking up spit and digging in the facial hair of the 19 year-old.

Again, the coach pauses, moaning: „Time for some more pit stink!“ and dives into Steven’s left armpit, savouring the strong, intoxicating male teenage sweat smell and the vile tuft of wet armpit hair. He exclaims: „Holy shit! The stench has gotten even nastier! You should be ashamed!“

Steven giggles: „No dude. The nastier the better. Shows what a man I am!“

„You surely are a confident bastard!“, the coach declares and gets back to Steven’s chin, jerking off hard.

„Now while I’m jerking off and sucking your beard, I want you to call me names! Go on!“

Steven thinks for a moment, then starts:

„Asshole….“, the coach nods, Steven continues: „Motherfucker…“.

The coach moans: „Yeah, getting close, go on“. Then Steven shouts:

„You dirty prick whose licking up my spit! You who likes to suck on the stinky armpit hair of your students! Go fuck yourself! I’m here, stinking up the room for you with my nasty pit hair! You should thank me!“

The coach shouts: „Fuck yes!!…Sweat and spit…and stench!! Mhhh!! Teenage pit stink! Fuuuuckk… so stinky… give me that spit…. Wooaaaaahh!!!“.

While the coach is having an orgasm, Steven flat-out spits into the coach’s face, causing him to moan even louder: „Woaaaahhhhhhhh!!!“, shooting into his hand, with cum dropping down to the floor.

Steven just watches him. His coach. Now down by his knees, exhausted. At his mercy.

„Bye“, Steven says.

The coach tries to recover himself, uttering, while Steven is already at the door: „Walls, next time… it will involve Craig!“

„What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind?“, Steven asks, perplexed.

„It is what you want, I know it“, the coach calmly responds.

Steven shakes his head: „Sorry to disappoint you, but Craig would never ever do something like that, believe me!“.

„We’re gonna find a way“, the coach murmers, a little too sure for his own good.

„And Steven“, the coach insists.

„What the fuck else?“, Steven asks annoyed.

„For God’s sakes, go and take a shower!“.

After learning that a new subdivision was going in, I was ready to get our of the hustle and bustle of living in town.  I immediately contacted the developer and made an appointment to see where it would be located and the size of the lots.

We met, and he showed me the plot plan and said that it backed up to a large water retention pond to control flooding.  The lots were oversized, and loving my privacy, I purchased four lots side by side, on the back side of the development, by the pond.

As soon as possible, I started construction on my house which would be located on the two center lots, with half the building on each of the two lots.  It was three bedroom, each with their own private bath, den, media room, office large kitchen, and two half baths, one off the den and the other in the media room.

Once construction was complete and the lot planted with grass and shrubs, I had a pool installed and once that was done, from each front corner of the house and completely enclosing the side and back yard, was a nine foot him solid concrete block fence, with a door/gate, in the rear to gain access to the walking track around the pond.

I initiated the house by having eight close male friends over for a house warming.  That’s what I called it but actually it was an orgy. 

It was all day on a Saturday and everyone was around the pool all totally nude, and having sex whenever they so desired.

It was near five in the afternoon when I noticed a lineman for the power company climbing the utility pole behind my fence.  Here we were, nine naked gay men kissing sucking and fucking, with a man on the utility pole watching.

After a moment of me watching him and him watching us, he smiled and gave me a thumbs up sign and went to work, not obviously paying us any attention.  However, on a few occasions when I glanced up in his direction, I noticed him adjust his crotch, letting me know that he probably had a boner.  He appeared to be in his early thirties, was muscular, had shoulder length dark hair, and his white old style ‘wife beater’ undershirt revealed a hairy chest.   Seeing his casual reaction to us having sex, I wondered if he played or not.

I continued watching him and he mostly paid attention to his work, only glancing over to watch the action from time to time.  After fifteen minutes or so, when I glanced over, I saw him starting to climb back down the power pole.  Suddenly, he was out of sight.  I wondered if I would ever see him again.

I had taken a three week vacation, to move in and get settled and with two weeks still remaining, I had ninety-five percent of the work done.

The Monday after the orgy, I was enjoying a cold glass of tea next to the pool, nude, tanning parts of my body that seldom see the sun, when I heard a heavy duty truck behind my fence. 

I watched and moments later, I saw the same hot stud climbing up the pole.  Now, being high enough to see over the fence, he glanced in my direction, and upon seeing me nude by the pool, smiled and waved.  Naturally, I waved back.

After a moment, I walked over toward the fence and called out, “When you get a chance, I have a cold glass of tea waiting for you. I’ll unlock the gate here.”

Smiling, he called down, “Sounds good. Give me fifteen minutes or so.”

I unlocked the gate leading to the walking track around the retention pond, then returned to the patio.  After a few minutes, when I saw him start down the pole, I went inside and gathered up the pitcher of tea, ice bucket and a glass and returned to the patio, just after he had entered and closed the gate.

I introduced myself and as we shook hands, he said “I’m Steve Davis, but everyone calls me ‘Buck’.

“How did you get that name?” I asked.  

“In high school, I was a member of the school rodeo team and rode horses bareback and usually got bucked off.”

As he spoke, I saw that he was dressed exactly as he had been on Saturday when I first saw him, and I fought to keep from getting a boner with him being so close.

After handing him his glass, I sat back down on the chaise and told him to sit and relax a while.

As he sat down, I spoke up saying, “Buck, I’d like to apologize for what went on Saturday while you were up on the pole.  I never dreamed there would be workers out on the weekend.”

“Hey, Mark, it’s cool.  We see a lot of things when we’re up on the poles.”

“But nothing like what you saw, I bet.”

“Your right about that.  It was definitely different and unexpected.  But it was in private, and on your private property.”

Looking at him I said, “Buck, you seem so at ease with me being here totally nude.  It surprises me.”

“I spent four years in the Army, and our showers were usually just one big area with shower heads and no privacy at all.  I’ve seen numerous guys nude and some with erections.  I’ve even popped one on occasions in the showers.  It’s cool, and besides, after I get home and shower, I usually stay nude.”

“Maybe so, but I bet you never saw guys sucking and fucking like what was going on here?”

“That was a first, I admit.  But I don’t judge people that enjoy things like that.  To each his own.  I probably do things that would shock people also.”

“Such as?” I asked.

With a smile on his face, he said, “I have neighbors immediately on each side of me, but sometimes later in the evenings, I’ll go outside nude and enjoy the freedom, and I have been known to jerk off on occasions.”

“From that, I assume your single?”

“Divorced, as of two months ago.  I caught her getting fucked by two of her coworkers.”

“Mother fuck!  How did that happen?”

“I got sick with a stomach virus and went home at noon one day.  She had taken the day off for a morning doctor’s appointment, or so she said.  When I got home and walked in she had one guy fucking her cunt and the other fucking her mouth.  I had tried to get her to blow me but she refused saying it was nasty.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I looked at her and said that I saw she had returned to her high school days. We went to high school together and back then she let any guys with a hard cock fuck her.  She supposedly changed and up until that day I thought things were different.  One of the guys said that he had been fucking her for months.”

“How did the divorce turn out?”

“Her loss.  I owned the house and everything before we married, so there was no community property.  My lawyer managed to get me out of paying any alimony.  I gave her a thousand dollars to help her out, and the judge said I owed her nothing else.”

“Buck, I think you’re cool, and if nudity doesn’t bother you, how would you like to come over this weekend for burgers and a swim?”

“As far as I know this is my weekend off, so I’d enjoy that.  Most weekends off are boring.”

“If you want, take whatever clothes you want to work with you and when you get off, come straight over here.  You can clean up here, with a cold beer within reach.”

“Perfect idea, especially the cold beer. See you Friday if I don’t see you sooner.”

“Great,” I replied.

“Mark, if you’re out and hear a truck pull up behind the fence, if it’s me, I’ll sound my horn.  If you don’t hear the horn, whoever is back there might not be an understanding about the nudity as I am.”

“Got it,” I replied.

He left and I relocked the back gate and as I walked back into the house, he was back up the pole and he smiled and waved.  I wondered what Friday would bring.

On Wednesday, Buck was back but just waved when I saw him, tapping his watch, letting me know that he didn’t have time to visit.

It was summer, and the days were long.  At shortly after six, the doorbell rang and checking the security camera I saw that it was Buck.  I remotely unlocked the door then on the intercom told him to come on in.  

Once he was inside, he tossed a small duffle bag aside as he came into the kitchen, saying, “I’m bad.”

Smiling, I asked, “How are you bad?” as I handed him a cold beer.

“I told a lie.  I told my supervisor that I had an emergency and would have to be out of town until late Sunday.  That way he won’t be calling me at home to work.”

“Well, let’s make sure.  I have no plans, so why don’t you stay the weekend here where he can’t find you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive, if the fact that I’m gay doesn’t bother you.”

“After what I saw last weekend, if it did bother me, I wouldn’t have had the glass of tea with you or be standing here right now”

“Thanks,” I said, looking into his eyes, adding, “You ready for a shower?”

“Oh, yea,” he replied with a smile.

I led him to the bedroom next to mine, and told him to make himself at home.

Half hour later he returned, his long hair still damp, and totally nude.

“It this attire acceptable?“ he asked.

Looking over his hot, muscular, nude body, I said, “Most definitely.”

His chest was even more defined than I had seen before with more hair.  Above his left nipple was a tattoo of the Army emblem, and on his lower stomach was a smiley face.

Smiling, I said, “I understand the Army insignia, but what gives with the smiley face?”

“When back in the army, I occasionally dated a girl that said she liked to see a smiling face when she gave a guy head, hence the smiley face.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I checked out his beautiful, long, semi-thick cut cock.

As he sat at the counter while I prepared dinner, I said, “Buck, I’m glad that you feel so comfortable around me to go nude also.”

“Well, why be bashful.  This is the way we were born.”

Moments later, he got us each a fresh beer, then began helping me with dinner, frequently standing extremely close.

I wanted desperately to reach over and fondle his swinging cock, but wasn’t sure how he would take it.

After eating and cleaning up the kitchen together, we went out to the pool with a small cooler stocked with cold beer.  As we sat on the steps, water almost up to our chins, he looked over at me and said, “May I make a confession?”

“This sounds serious,” I replied, “but go ahead.”

“Several months ago, I stopped by an adult video store, considering buying a fuck movie.  I got to looking at the covers to a few gay movies and decided to go into the arcade and watch one to see what they did together.  I began watching three guys sucking and fucking ad before I realized it my cock was rock hard, wondering what it would be like having sex with another male.”

After a long swallow of beer, he continued, and said, “When I saw you and your friends doing it in person, I was again very curious, and hoped that I could somehow meet you.  Well, things worked out the way I wanted them and here I am. I’ve been sucked by women before but never to completion.  They said the idea of sperm in their mouth is gross.

Then he looked at me and asked, “Mark, would you show me what it’s like to get sucked off by another male?”

“I’d love to, and to be honest, that was the reason behind me inviting you for the weekend.  Whenever your ready, just tell me.”

“Do it now, while I’m still sober enough to know if I like it or not.”

I had him move over to the edge and sit with his feet in the water where I could get between them.  Once he was in position, I moved in between his knees and gently lifted his slowly rising cock.  Looking up into his eyes, I opened my mouth and continued watching his face as I swallowed his cock and began sucking it.  As I did, he moaned and threw his head back saying , “Oh, fuck, yea!” 

I sucked his cock lovingly, and I could soon tell that he was getting close, and I eagerly wanted to feel him shoot in my mouth and taste his masculine load.  Then, it happened.

Just as the first volley exploded into my mouth, he cried out, loudly, “OH, FUCK, YEA!  TAKE IT ALL, MARK!

I began to wonder if he was ever going to stop shooting cum into my mouth, not that I objected.  I hungrily swallowed every drop he fed me as he regained enough composure to watch me eat his load.

As I pulled off his cock, I looked up into his face and asked, “When was the last time you got off?”

“Last night when I jerked off thinking about being naked with you and what might happen.”

“Are your loads always that big?  You nearly drown me.”

“They are always big, but not quite that big.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” I began, “I loved every drop you fed me.”

“Mark, is it harmful to eat?” he asked.

“Not unless it is diseased.  Normal sperm is basically nothing but pure protein,” I told him, “and I am checked regularly.”

Then, to my shocked surprise, he slid off the edge of the pool, facing me just inches away. Unexpectedly, he placed his hands on each side of my head and leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.  After a couple of seconds, I felt his lips part and his tongue try to slip between my lips.

Immediately, I opened my mouth and we began a hot long passionate tongue kiss.  At least he knew how to do that and he was damn good at it.

“Where the fuck did you learn to kiss like that?” I asked.

Laughing, he said, “When I was a teen, I saw a movie and that was the way the couple kissed.  I started doing it with my girlfriends and it just became the natural way for me to kiss.  Was it wrong?”

“Fuck no! That’s the way most men kiss another man. I loved it.”

He smiled and gave me another passionate kiss, swapping lots of spit.

“I meant to asked, but we got sidetracked, how did you like receiving a blow job from another male?”

“I loved it.  In fact, if my memory serves me right, that is the first time I have been sucked to completion.  All the females stopped before I climaxed.”

“Eating the load, or reward, as I call it, it the main reason for sucking other than giving the other person some pleasure.”

Moving closer to me, he kissed me again, gently, then said, “Mark, I owe you a huge gratitude for letting me experience sex with another male.  Will I continue it or continue with females, I have no idea, but everything I have experienced so far I have totally enjoyed.”

“Buck, if at anytime, you want to stop, just tell me.”

“Not until I have experienced a lot more that I have so far.”

“Well, let me ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he said.

“When the house was ready, I took three weeks off to move in and get settled.  I still have a week to go, so let me ask you this.  For the next week, and for a week or so after that, how would you like living here with me.  Bring some clothes over and spend the nights with me.”

“For real?” he asked.

“If I wasn’t serious, I wouldn’t have made the offer.”

“I’d like that.  I’d like that very much,” he replied.

“I was hoping you would say that,” I told him.  “Shall we go get your things now, while it’s dark?”

“Let’s go,” he said, before slipping on just a pair of gym shorts and tee shirt.  I dress the same way and moments later we were in his pickup, heading for his house.  As we drove, he looked over and asked, “You wouldn’t want to suck me again while I drive, would you?”

“Try and stop me, just don’t have a wreck.”

With that, I leaned over and extracted his cock out the right leg of his shorts and gave him his second blow job from a male, with him climaxing just minutes before pulling into his drive.  I barely had time to sit back up.

It took him no more than fifteen minutes to gather what clothes he needed and those were basically work clothes.  He did grab a few regular clothes in case we went out somewhere.

When we returned back to my place, I said, “Put those and anything else in the other room into my bed room.  As long as you’re here, it’s ‘our’ bedroom.

He smiled, kissed me and moved everything into ‘our’ room.

Once again, we were totally nude, and after returning to the den, I sat in my recliner and after he settled on the sofa, he turned and said, 

“Why don’t you come sit by me?”

 “Sure,” I replied, and moved over next to him.

As I did, he put his arm out and around my shoulders and pulled me close to him.  After about ten minutes or so of watching TV, he slipped off the sofa and onto the floor, positioning himself between my legs. 

I was fairly sure what was to come next, and I was right when he picked up my flaccid cock and sucked it into his hot wet mouth.

Immediately, my cock began to stiffen and within seconds he was working his head up and down on my rigid cock.  It was as if he had done it numerous times before.  He was a natural.  Most guys who suck their first cock, have problems not scraping the cock with their teeth. He didn’t scrape me one time.

Soon, I began to breath heavily and he knew I was getting close. I spoke up and asked, “Do you want me to tell you when I’m ready?”

Pausing for just a moment, he replied, “No, just let it shoot,“ then returned to sucking his first cock.

Moments later, my cock exploded and when it did, he gagged just slightly, but only once, before collecting my load in his mouth.  Once the eruptions stopped, he pulled off and as he looked up into my eyes, he smiled then swallowed.

After leaning forward and kissing him, I asked, “Well, what did you think?”

“That first spurt startled me but after that, I liked it, knowing I was giving another human pleasure.  The taste is what surprised me.  Instead of being bitter as I expected, it had a salty, yet sweet taste.  I have to admit that I liked it.  Now I know how to do with my loads when I jerk off.”

Laughing, I said, “I eat my own all the time.  It’s too precious to waste.”

Before long, we headed to bed and once in bed, we cuddled together, with Buck laying on his side facing me, his head on my shoulder and his body pressed up against mine, with my arm under his head and around his shoulders.

After a kiss, I turned out the light and we settled in for our first night together.  At some point during the night I woke up to find him sucking my cock again.  Once he took my load, he swallowed then returned to his position next to me.  I never said a word, I only leaned over and kissed him gently, before pulling him closer to me.

I didn’t know if Buck would continue with men or not, but I was cherishing the time and experiences we shared.

The next morning, Saturday, I awoke, uncovered, and found Buck sitting in the chair in the bedroom, just watching me.

“Good morning,” I said. “How long have you been up?”

“About a half hour,” he replied, “just sitting here and admiring your awesome body and considering how lucky I was to meet you and for you to help me satisfy my curiosity.”

“Buck, believe me, it has been my pleasure, just to get to suck your awesome cock.”

He came over to the bed and kissed me passionately after which he started sucking my cock.  I wiggled around and a moment later we were in a sixty-nine, and as I started sucking his cock, he paused and said, “Oh, fuck yea.”

As we had our first sixty-nine, we worked diligently to bring each other to a climax and we succeeded, climaxing just seconds apart. Then, after devouring each others loads, kissed uncontrollably.

Afterward, we went into the kitchen and as I started the coffee, I asked, “How would you like to visit a gay bar tonight?”

“It sounds interesting,” he replied, then asked, “Does anything go on?”

“It’s a private club, so yes, things do go on at times,” I replied.

“Fuck, lets go.  I’d love watching others have sex in real life and not in a movie.”

We slowed down on the sex during the day, only sucking each other once before getting dressed, minimally, to go to the bar.

At the door, I showed my membership card, saying that Buck was my guest.  After he showed his ID, we entered  and headed for the bar.  I immediately noticed some of the others checking buck out.  He wore skin tight jeans, that I loaned him to show off his package, and a white, sleeveless t-shirt.

We had been there about half an hour and had a couple of slow dances, when we noticed a guy over in a corner on his knees, sucking a shirtless, muscled biker, who was also a member.

Buck watched intently and as the guy on his knees accepted and swallowed the bikers load, said, “Mother Fuck! I know that guy.”

“The one standing or the one on his knees?” I asked.

“The one on his knees.  I work with him, and never dreamed he was gay.

About that time, the man on his knees got up and after kissing the biker, headed toward us as we stood at the bar.  

About half way to us,, he looked directly at us and froze for a moment, before continuing and walking up to us.

“Hello, Buck,” he said.

“Hello, Clay, I never dreamed you were into men. How long has it been going on?”

“I’ve been gay since my late teens.  What about you? I never dreamed you were gay either.”

“I’m not sure if I am or not,” Buck replied.

“Wait a minute.  Can you explain that?”

Buck explained to Clay about working and seeing the orgy in my yard and us meeting.  

“Oh, Clay, this is Mark.  Mark, meet clay, a coworker.”

As we shook hands, Buck continued, saying, “mark and I met and talked and I told him that after what I had seen, I was curious about sex with another man.  Mark agreed to be my mentor and show me what it was like.  My only experience so fr was letting him blow me and me sucking him.  I have no idea if I will continue with men or not.”

“So when did you start blowing him?” Clay asked.

“My first time was last night, and I have to admit that I liked it.”

“Buck, just so you know, I have wanted you for a long time, but was afraid if I suggested anything, you would report me, and I’d get fired.”

“That would have never happened.  I believe that what a person does in his off time and private life is no one’s business but his.  You don’t have to worry about me reporting what I just saw.”

Clay smiled, and asked, “May I kiss you?”

Smiling, Buck replied, “If you don’t kiss me, I’m going to kiss you.”

Clay smiled and immediately started kissing Buck, and I could see their tongues exploring each others mouth, and after the kiss, Buck said, “Since you admitted wanting me, go for it if you want to.  I don’t think Mark will object.”

“Not at all,” I replied.

Clay smiled and dropped to his knees and a moment later was  sucking Buck’s hard cock as Buck and I kissed, and others watched.

After devouring Buck’s load, he stood up and with his cock still hanging out, Buck dropped and extracted Clay’s cock and began sucking.  Clay smiled and soon started kissing me, and at one point said, “He’s a fucking natural.”

“I know,” I replied, as Clay began feeding Buck his load.

After Buck stood up, Clay looked at him and said, “I told Mark that you were a natural, and I hope we can do this again, maybe during  lunch break when we’re working together.”

“If I continue with man sex, I’d like that.  And even if I don’t, I have no problem with you doing me.”

“Mark, may I ask a favor?”

“Go for it.”

“I’d love to watch you blow another guy, a total stranger.”

A guy standing by us at the bar heard the conversation and said, “if he is a natural like you said, I volunteer.”

Buck seemed top be loosening up and immediately dropped to his knees again and reached for the man’s zipper, and soon had the guys long thick uncut cock out and in his mouth.

After a minute or so, the guy smiled and said, “Oh, man, this guy is awesome to be a newbie.”  Then, looking down at Buck said, “Don’t swallow it,  Kiss me and let’s share it.”

Once the man climaxed, Buck stood and began kissing the man, sharing the cum load with him.  I knew the man, not by name but by occupation.  He was the local Army recruiter.

Then, as Mark asked where the restroom was, the recruiter smiled and said, “Right here,” and immediately got on his knees and opened his mouth.

Mark looked over at me and I smiled and said, “Put in in his mouth and start pissing.  He’s a human urinal.”

Mark did, and smiled as we all watched the guy drink every drop of Buck’s piss.

“Thanks,” the man said as he stood up. “Delicious.”

Clay and Mark agreed to keep in touch and keep each others secret, before Clay began to circulate around the club.  On  several  occasions, we saw him on his knees sucking cock and at one point over in a corner, two guys were taking turns fucking his ass.

By the time we left, Buck and I had both sucked several cocks and been sucked off.  As we walked out and toward the car, Buck smiled and said, “This evening has been unbelievable, but what is it like fucking and getting fucked?”

‘Well, when we get home, if you want it, you can fuck me and find out.”

“Fuck yea!  I was wondering when that would come up,” he said.

Once home, it took less than a minute for us to return to our nude lifestyle.

As I led Buck to the bedroom to fuck me, I smiled at him and said, “You have no idea how much I have been looking forward to this.”

“For real?” he asked.

“Oh, yea.  I love getting fucked.  It’s the ultimate in love making.”

“Will you fuck me afterwards?” he asked.

“If I don’t shoot my load while you’re fucking me.  Getting fucked sometimes makes me climax.”

Once in bed, I lay on my back and pulled my legs up and lubed my hole as he lubed his cock.  Seconds later, he was beginning his entry into my eagerly waiting hole.

I had him go slow and once he was in balls deep, I smiled and asked, “How does it feel having your cock up a man’s ass?”

“Awesome, like velvet,” he replied.

Pulling my legs higher, I said, “Baby, fuck me like you would a woman ion a date.”

He began to piston in and out of my hole, saying how fantastic it felt, and asked if I was enjoying it.

“Stud, I’m loving it and knowing that I’m your first makes it even hotter.  My ass is yours anytime you want it.”

“Even on a lunch hour if I’m working near your home?”

“Anytime I’m home, day or night, if you want to fuck me, come on over.”

I had him go slow to start, not only for his pleasure but also for mine.  As he drew near his climax, he got faster and I said, “Yea, baby, fuck me like some whore.  I want to feel you shoot in me.”

Seconds later he let out a cry and as he did, his cock exploded, filling my insides with his huge load, as we kissed passionately, and my cock exploded out onto my stomach.

Once he was drained, he collapsed on my chest, breathing heavily, then as he regained his composure, said, “That was better than any cunt I have ever fucked in my entire life.”

“Baby, I loved it for sure and you can do it anytime you want.”

Looking at the cum pool on my stomach, I asked, “You want to lick it up and feed me?”

“I’ll lick it up for you, but it’s all mine,” he said then began licking up my load, swallowing every drop.

We cuddled and made out for a while and when my cock was again hard, he said, “Please, fuck me.”

Moments later he was on his back and his hole and my cock were well lubed, and after giving him instructions to relax and breath, I began my entry.

As the crown popped into his hole, he gasped slightly and I felt him relax.  Slowly, I continued sliding in deeper and soon I was balls deep.  When I told him he had it all, he reached back and felt to be sure, then said, “Mother fuck, it is all in me!”

I began to piston in and out slowly, and after a few minutes said, “Yea, Mark, fuck my hole. Give me your seed.”

We kissed and moments later I filled his ass with my load as he cried out how fantastic it felt. 

After slowly pulling out, I asked how he liked it, and he replied, “Getting fucked was unreal, but fucking a man’s ass was better than any cunt I ever slipped my cock in, and as far as you are concerned, my ass is yours.”

 During the middle of the week, Buck called and asked if I minded if he had Clay follow him home after work and have a three way.  “I want to see what it’s like to have a cock in my mouth and ass at the same time.”

“Hell, yea, bring him home,” I said.

That evening, after dinner,  we began an evening of sex, and moments later, Buck had me in his mouth and Clay in his ass, and Clay and I both climaxed simultaneously into our respective holes.

After we both pulled out, Buck said how much he had enjoyed it.

Then, after a couple of beers, Clay said he needed to use the toilet.  Buck shocked us both when he said, “Give it to me.”

As he got on his knees, Clay and I looked at each other and I shrugged.

What’s going on?” I asked.

“After the bar Saturday night, I started drinking my own when at work.  Now I want to drink from the source.”

Clay stepped up and after placing his cock in Buck’s mouth, he let the flow begin.  Buck expertly drank every drop and after taking all of Clay’s piss, asked if I needed to feed him.  I stood and drained my bladder into his mouth also, then drank his piss load.

Buck did say that on one lunch break when they were working together, they slipped off and blew each other during lunch.

That weekend, I got another shocker.

As buck and I sat poolside, he got up and came over and sat on my chaise, and said, “I now know, I was made to service and be serviced by men.  I don’t think I could even get a boner if I was with a female. And I want to thank you for helping me find my true self.”

“Buck, are you sure of your decision? You are extremely masculine, so most people will never suspect you are gay, but there are some that if they find out or even suspect, they will broadcast it around and make your life miserable.”

“I’m sure, and I know what you mean about what some people might do.  I have a couple of neighbors like that.  I’m going to have to move somewhere.  I don’t have much furniture, just a couch, sofa, TV and stand, table, and four chairs, a bed, dresser and a couple of other tables and a few lamps.  I don’t need a big place, but I want to be close to you.”

“I’d like that too, so why don’t you put your things in storage and move in with me.”

“Mark, can I be honest about something?” 

“Sure,” I replied.

Stepping up closer, he took my hands in his and began, “When all this started, I seriously doubted that it was the lifestyle for me, but as things progressed, I found that it was exactly what I wanted.  I realized that in the past I had unconsciously been checking men out at the gym and in restrooms.  I doubt seriously that I could ever have a relationship with  women.  I and so indebted to you for showing me who and what I really am and care for you deeply.  I never thought I would ever say this to another male, but I thin I’m in love with you.”

“Buck, in the short time we have been together my feelings for you have turned from friendship to much more.  About four years ago I had a lover and one day I got a call that he was killed in an auto accident.  I didn’t think I could ever love again,  then I met you and almost immediately, I started having feelings that grew stronger and stronger.  I have to confess that I have fallen deeply in love with you also.  That having been said, will you move in here with me as my life partner?”

As a smile slowly emitted from his face, he said, “Most definitely.  I love you so much.”

We have been lovers for two years now and our love is stronger than ever.  Oh, we occasionally have sex away from each other but never overnight.  One of our more frequent partners in sex is Clay, who still has trouble comprehending  that Buck is actually gay.

Having graduated from college I rented an apartment in the city that I was required to move to. My dad was a disciplinarian who believed that you had to earn everything you got in life. When I was in high school, he told me that if I wanted to attend a college I had to get a scholarship to pay my own way. That being the case, I worked my arse off to attain the required marks that enabled me to do so. The company that sponsored me at college obviously required a return on their investment, and I would have to work for them for a period of two years after graduation. That is how I ended up at a branch of their company, in a city of their choosing.

The city was six hundred miles away from the town I had grown up in. I did not mind and was looking forward to my emancipation as an adult. As a graduation gift, my parents bought me a second-hand vehicle and also gave me a small amount of money to upgrade my modest apartment. I had never had a proper sexual encounter with anyone up to that point but knew I was gay. Teenage gropes and fondles with other boys summed up my sexual history. My parents were not aware of sexual orientation and ‘outing’ myself, was not a priority in my life. I was determined, however, to explore my predilection in my new environment.

Fixing and painting my new apartment was an arduous task and was very pleased when my labours finally drew to an end. As a reward to myself after four weeks of backbreaking toil, I finally decided to visit a gay establishment. I found the name of a place called, ‘Wolf Den’ in a gay newspaper. The reason for my choice was simply that it was the closest bar to my apartment.

Being as naïve as I was the significance of the name did not register with me and to be honest, I had no idea about the various gay subcultures that existed.

That Friday night I meandered over to the bar completely unaware that it catered to the leather/bear community. I arrived at about nine p.m. and nervously approached the bar counter. I ordered a beer and sat quietly observing the clientele. I was very surprised by the men frequenting this establishment.

At college, the obvious gay crowd was referred to as; ‘The Pussy-Boys.’ They were all very camp and one could also discern their presence by the overpowering reek of some or other, ‘in vogue’ cologne. In the household I grew up men simply did not wear cologne, and my father developed dreadful hay-fever if my mother wore perfume. I also never bothered with deodorants, because my dad believed it a total waste of money. The guys in the bar were rather rough looking. They mainly wore leather or plaid shirts and leather or denim trousers. Facial hair was also in abundance.

After ten minutes, I was approached by Sparky, real name Michael. I introduced myself as Cian and was summarily told that he would prefer to name me; Red. I was not one of the freckled gingers but had a light complexion and dark red hair. Sparky was six-foot tall and ruggedly handsome. He was stocky, moderately hairy, and had short cropped hair and a beard. His hands were large and rough. Sparky was an electrician by trade and was very witty and a lot of fun to talk to. He told me that he was meeting two of his buddies, who would be arriving, a short while later.

After twenty minutes, Mac, (real name George) walked into the bar. He was six-feet-two tall and gangly. Mac had a receding hairline that was quite advanced and the rest of his meager head of hair was short. His beard was longer than Sparky’s and his body also appeared to be hairier. Mac was quite unattractive and had large ears and a broad nose. He also had thick lips and uneven teeth. Mac’s hands were not as broad as Sparky’s but his fingers were much longer and rather icky. Mac was an auto electrician by trade, and it instantly became apparent that he was a very pleasant and engaging guy. Mac told us that Tang, (real name Tanner) would also be arriving shortly. Prior to Tang’s arrival, I asked about Tang’s unusual nickname believing that it may have an oriental connotation. They both laughed, before replying that his name had more to do with smell.

Before Tang’s arrival, I asked them if he minded the nickname. Shrugging, they both replied that he was very comfortable with it.

When Tang finally appeared, I was taken aback by his appearance. Tang was extremely hairy, with shoulder length hair and a beard that was even longer than Mac’s. Tang was huge and looked like he had recently arrived from a deserted island, where he had been marooned for two years. Standing six-foot tall, Tang must have weighed at least two-hundred and sixty pounds. Tang was actually quite good-looking and had large expressive brown eyes and an infectious smile. He had thick stubby hands with the fat fingers and being a plumber by trade, his hands were really grubby. Tang also sweated profusely and it was very apparent why he had acquired his nickname.

As time wore on, a discussion about going to Sparky’s place for some fun after the bar was broached. I decided to bail from that gathering with the excuse of having to be up very early the following day. They seemed disappointed, but I assured them that I would definitely take them up on their offer at a future date. I then thanked them for a lovely evening and left shortly after.

After I arrived home I was sorry that I had not followed through on their suggestion. An orgy, however, was not what I had in mind for my first real sexual encounter. I did masturbate that night, nevertheless, thinking of what might have been.

The following Wednesday, I visited the bar at around for a quick drink at eight p.m. Mac was there and informed me that Sparky and Tang would not be coming to the bar that evening. As I was leaving later, he asked if I made good coffee. Laughing, I invited him along for a cup. Although not initially attracted to him, during my visit to the bar that evening I found him sexier than I had originally thought.

After arriving at my home, he asked me to sit next to him on the couch. He then told me that he and the guys were rather taken with me, but rather sad that I had not engaged with them the previous week. Mac then went on to say that he hoped that I hadn’t bull-shitted them about a future get-together. After thanking him for their compliment, I replied that I had been upfront in my response to their offer. I then explained honestly why I had been reluctant to party with them.

Mac smiled compassionately before he impishly asked if he could do me the honour of rectifying my unfortunate; ‘virginal’ disposition. Before I could answer he gave me a long intimate kiss. His thick lips covered mine and before his long, his tongue was exploring every part of my mouth. I was totally mesmerized as he intensely excavated my oral cavity for several minutes. Mac’s rough hands caressed my body throughout our encounter, and by the time we stood up our shirts and denim trousers had been unbuttoned.

After removing all our clothes I got to see the strangest dick I had ever seen. It was shaped like a rhino horn and tapered from a thick base to a small head. I had never heard of phimosis before meeting him and the condition as he explained; meant that his foreskin completely covered the head of his cock and could not retract. He was well-endowed and had a long nut-sac that hung very low. His entire package was surrounded by a thick bush of dark hair.

After pushing my body flat onto the sofa, he began face-fucking me in the sixty-nine position with his weight supported on his knees. I felt his hot mouth enclose my penis as our mutual pleasuring got underway.

Instinctively, he would lift his body every twenty seconds allowing me to breathe. I was in ecstasy as I toyed with his balls and inhaled the smell of his musky crotch. Our bonding continued for ten minutes before he tried to lift off me. I begged him not to when he warned me that he was very close. I didn’t care and wanted him to shoot down my throat. Obligingly, he exploded into my mouth and throat. I was also very close and with him manically sucking my cock, shot my load shortly after. Once done, Mac turned around and lay on top of me as we continued to kiss. I had never had such an exhilarating experience in my life.

We finally had our coffee, which was the original purpose of his visit. Afterward, we moved through to my bedroom. The kissing continued as we lay in bed and I was overawed by how much his facial hair was turning me on. I planned, there and then, to start growing a beard the following day.

Next, after lifting my arms above my head and licking my armpits, he introduced me to the most unbelievable sensation. When I offered to reciprocate, he warned me that he had not showered that day. I was so horny by then that I couldn’t care less. When his first smelly wet pit covered my mouth, I was overcome with horniness. After cleaning both of his pits he turned me onto my stomach; explaining that as it was my first time this would be much more comfortable for me.

Mac always remained one of the comfiest penetrators I ever encountered. There was minimal discomfort when entered me and I was in a state of bliss, almost immediately. His rhythmic variations were mind-blowing and I was honoured that my cherry had been taken by such a great lover. After he unloaded into me I had cum twice.

We fell asleep soon after and were almost late for work the following day, having overslept.

The following day, I found it very difficult to concentrate on my work. I kept thinking about the previous evening and how unbelievable it had been. From my first meeting at the bar with ‘The Three Musketeers,’ I was under no illusion about their laissez-faire approach to sex. They were not looking for fixed relationships. Would I be the D’artagnan, in the future foursomes of the group? I pondered.

I was definitely also interested in having sex with Sparky, but Tang concerned me because of his intimidating size.

Next, I was interrupted from my reverie by a call from Mac at around two p.m., asking if I would I like to join the guys at Sparky’s home that Saturday evening. After agreeing, I was amused by his reminder to bring a toothbrush as it would be a sleepover.

I did not visit the bar on the following two evenings and arrived at Sparky’s home at about five p.m., on Saturday. To my surprise, all the guys were naked upon my arrival. Apparently, this was the norm at Sparky’s house. Sparky’s home was very secluded and nudity was therefore not a problem. Not wanting to appear prudish I followed suit and also disrobed.

Naturally, having seen Mac naked, my attention was focused on the other two guys. Sparky had a beautiful body as I had anticipated. He was manly and solid. Although well coated with hair he was the least hairy of the three. Sparky also had the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. His uncut cock was thick and perfectly proportioned.

Tang, of course, was totally covered in hair and even his very broad feet and fat toes sprouted clumps of hair. He almost appeared to be fully clothed, with the amount of fur covering his huge body. For a man of his size, Tang was firm, rather than flabby. He had the sexiest moobs I had ever seen, a big stomach, and thick arms and legs. Tang was cut and had an extremely thick tool. The shaft of his cock was fat and had a massive, bluish mushroom head. Although Tang’s cock only grew to seven inches erect, it was the thickest of all the three guys. His balls were also huge and very hairy. I had a feeling that this would be an unforgettable evening.

Once naked, I was embraced by all three guys as part of my welcome ritual. As this happened my olfactory senses went into overdrive, with Tang, of course, taking the top spot. The guys were very affectionate with one another and also including me in their affability.

When I complimented Mac on his performance of a few nights before, he laughingly offered to open me up for the two ‘thicker’ boys.

As we were having a barbeque, the fire was already well underway. I assisted making the salad and before long the potatoes, later followed by the meat, were all on the go.

Man, oh, man! These guys could eat. Tang, of course, was the front-runner in this department. We ate, drank beer, and had a great time chatting and laughing.

After dinner, we all helped clean up. As Sparky and I were drying off the last of the dishes, Mac and Tang moved through to the lounge and got into a sixty-nine position on one of the huge sofas. With Mac on top, he penetrated Tang’s throat, giving him a far rougher face-fucking than I had received a few days before.

Sparky then moved me over to the action before instructing me to give Mac a hand, servicing Tang’s fat cock. Tang’s legs were wide apart, with his left leg slumped over the backrest of the sofa. There was no way one could accommodate Tang’s fat cock in one’s mouth and so Mac and I just ran our tongues up and down either side of his shaft. Sparky then began fingering my butt and soon had two fingers inserted into me.

After several minutes, Sparky suggested that he and Mac should change places before we resumed our action after the trade had taken place. Almost immediately, Mac shoved his well-lubed cock into my backside.

Tang was now really grunting given Sparky’s extra girth. Sparky and I resumed our attention to Tang’s fat dick and balls, as Mac got into a steady rhythm spearing into me. Sparky next pulled Tang’s right leg up, exposing the hairiest butt-hole that I had ever seen. Moving my mouth downward, I located Tang’s manhole in a dense forest of fur. As my tongue penetrated Tang’s pucker, as instructed by Sparky, Tang’s groans intensified.

Mac eventually broke up our cluster, by suggesting we all move through to the bathroom. With beers in hand, we summarily headed in that direction.

The bathroom was essentially a wet-room, and prior to our action, a large thick rubber mat was unfurled in the middle of the room. I was then pushed to my knees to receive my piss initiation. Mac knelt behind me and reinserted his cock into me and after a few seconds, I felt a warm gush of liquid being sprayed into my backside. It was totally awesome. Sparky then placed his cock in my mouth and started pissing down my throat. The taste was fantastic, and I swallowed greedily. When Mac finished pissing inside me he resumed fucking my arse.

When Sparky ran dry, Tang moved in front of me and sprayed both Mac and me with a torrent of hot piss. After Mac pulled out of me I was pushed flat on my stomach in the puddle of piss, before Sparky mounted me.

The upgrade in dick size really got my attention, but as the initial pain subsided I was turned onto my back before Sparky again thrust back into me. Tang stood over my body with his cock pointing towards Sparky’s mouth, and Mac moved behind Tang inserting his knob into Tang’s butthole. Lying on my back and staring up at this hot scene was a mind-blowing experience. Being fucked at the same time was sensational.

Next, pulling out of me Sparky once again turned me over into a doggy position. Tang’s turn to fuck me had now arrived. Sitting before me, Sparky shoved my mouth onto his dick as Tang got behind me. When Tang’s fat cock-head entered me, I thought my butthole was being ripped apart. Mac then got behind Tang as our fuck-train got into full swing.

After ten happy minutes, when the guys were all getting close the point of no return, Tang unloaded his seed in my arse. When he moved off me Mac inserted his cock before discharging his spunk. Finally, Sparky replaced Mac to finish off the procession. As I lay on the mat panting and sated, they exited the bathroom. After getting up eventually, I joined the guys in the lounge.

As we drank our beers they all asked how I had enjoyed my first orgy. Words were not necessary because my huge smile said it all.

Dessert followed and soon afterward Tang announced that he was ready for a ‘second helping’. After standing up, he motioned me to follow him back to the bathroom.

Once there, Tang lay on his back and instructed me to sit on his face. He then ordered me to discharge the collective loads from my backside into his mouth. He licked and slurped like a pig at a trough. His fat tongue felt unbelievable as he rimmed me. After Tang had sucked every last drop out of me, I moved me off his face. He then pushed me down onto my stomach and began slapping my backside with his left hand.

As two fat fingers from the right hand entered my butt he continued slapping me, holding my body down firmly with his left knee. After I had been softened up to his liking, he got on top of me and pushing my legs apart with his knees, entered me forcefully. As I reacted to the stress his full body weight fell on me, which was pinning me down completely, my whining and pleading just excited him even more. Tang was incredibly powerful and did not fully comprehend his incredible strength. I was often bruised after future encounters with him. Truthfully, I loved them.

Tang drove into me relentlessly as he bit on my neck. With his long hair all over my face, I gasped for air with an alpha gorilla on my back. He frenziedly pummelled his fat pole in and out of me, while grunting like a wild animal. Thankfully, my wheezing must have really turned him on because he shot a load into me soon after.

After a short while, he lifted his upper body onto his arms, before unleashing a bucketful of piss into my battered backside. When Tang exited the bathroom I lay on the mat for several minutes, drenched in perspiration.

When I moved through to the lounge Tang had headed off to the spare room and was snoring soundly. That evening, Sparky, Mac, and I, spent the night in the main bedroom. We had a scene that lasted for an hour minutes and consisted of me being spit-roasted by the two of them.

I left fairly early the next day, having been invited to Sunday lunch by a co-worker.

That Sunday evening, as I lay in bed reflecting upon the events of the past five days, I fell asleep with a smile on my face looking forward to our next gathering.

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

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My husband and I spent several weeks in Hawaii over Christmas again this year. What is it about being away from home that brings out the horny pigs we really are?

We both hope you enjoy the story. Please remember to support gaydemon.com – and particularly Bjorn, who works his very appealing butt off for us to give us and maintain this facility for us to post our writing and to share our comments.

Thanks for reading about our sordid life. And . . . Happy new year!

Billy C. / [email protected]

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I can’t say that I noticed Juan when he’d passed the point in the marathon route that passed in front of the house where we were staying in Kahala. For me that is a grave admission, given how insanely hot he was when he hit on us at the finish line party at Queen Kapiolani park on the other side of Diamond Head in Waikiki.

It may be my age – having turned fifty last January. Or it may be the resolution my husband Jim and I had made after our last foray with a hot bitch who’d hit on us at CrossFit at the end of the summer. That had been the last in a series of serial sluttiness that somehow just seemed excessive upon reflection. No worries, though – two of those other men we’d enjoyed sixteen ways from Sunday ended up becoming a regular item themselves, so at least they were not left wanting for our withdrawal of attentions, though they regularly let it be known that a foursome would be very welcome. Flattering, but awkward. Then again, introducing them into our clan of merry gay friends was the mistake there, though we’d seen it as consolation at the time.

Our wealthy friends – who by odd coincidence share our same first names – from the North Shore had a marathon starting point party before dawn that morning at their luscious penthouse condo at the far end of Waikiki. Nineteen or twenty of us gathered on their balcony and watched the anxious gathering twenty-some stories below and listened to the announcements and merry-making, mixed in with the boisterous enthusiasm of our group above. Chas and Bill’s gathering had several absentees from the party because they were racing themselves, adding an extra measure to the excitement among us. And, from that height, my masculine gay predator functions were unassessed as to the competitors below.
It seemed only fair that, after descending to and enjoying a sumptuous breakfast in the hotel below their penthouse, Jimmy blurted out an invitation to the assemblage for everyone to come to “our house”, which is along the eastern leg near the end of the race route. In response to my poker-faced for the benefit of them but obviously recognized as horror-stricken look to my husband, he grinned and mouthed, “Just call Hani and Catherine.”
Hani and Catherine are my in-laws “couple who do” for them at their “shore cottage” on Oahu. That house is rarely used – in fact, since we’ve been married, we’ve used it more in the past five-plus years than they or any of the rest of the family or their friends had in probably twenty before that. To call the place a cottage is tantamount to calling a palace a hut. I imagined Hani and Catherine enjoying the vast panoramas of the Pacific and the coastline, the luxuriously-furnished rambling rooms and the infinity pool that seemed to spill into the ocean.

But when I made the call, Catherine was unfazed. “How many? . . . Mostly young men I’m guessing? . . . Healthy sorts or . . . ? Drinkers or . . . ? . . . Any special dietary needs?” . . . The rapid-fire questions were daunting by the indication that either they were used to this – and how could they be, given the virtual abandonment of the property – and by their nuances.  The age question took me a moment, and I looked around as well as I could from the large alcove I’d retreated to for the call and saw that most of the gathering was our age. WERE we young? Catherine had moved on as I pondered that one and was doing my recon for the drinking question. Far more mostly-undrunk Mimosas and Bellinis and straight Champagne than virtually drained OJ, pineapple juice and waters. Food-wise, I hadn’t seen anyone being picky – the group were all fit or ridiculously fit, and they all ate like they hadn’t a care about what they ate at all. Catherine assured me that her cousin’s husband supplied many local restaurants – with what was not elaborated – and she would have no problem in having a feast being readied in a couple of hours.

Thus, we did welcome the horde into my inlaws’ home. The population had grown mysteriously, and not by a little bit. My anxiety rose as we were introduced to yet more and more new faces as they piled in. Our party planners had even gotten uniformed parking attendants to mostly direct traffic as taxis and Ubers dropped people off, and they saw to the few cars, Chas and Bill’s gleaming Bentley convertible and a shiny Aston Martin convertible with interior that looked like fluffy French vanilla ice cream.

The race organizers had a comfort station for runners only a few blocks away, and I had contributed the bright idea to ask them when we passed on our way home to call us when they got word that the first runners were at the comfort station before them. Jim contributed a crisp hundred dollar bill to the palm of the young man, and the notification deal was sealed.
Nearly thirty of us joined the sparse crowd of other residents up the block where our street intersected Kahala Road, the race route, and we greeted the front-runners and those who followed for more than an hour before straggling back to the house for the feast. I would have stayed longer – truthfully, the sight of the sweat-soaked men (yes, there were women, and mostly they held no interest for my eyes) and the aroma of exertion and mansweat as they passed, even diluted by the ocean breeze, was heady. But Jimmy rightly suggested we had a party to finish.

When the second meal of our group’s day had been consumed and the buffet was in a shambles but still had enough food for a homeless shelter for a day or two – which is what Jim asked Hani to see to, the delivery and donation of the food – we all headed over to the finish line festivities. Those of us with cars – and we have Jim’s parents vintage Bentley convertible, which looks like it belongs in a museum it’s so pristinely maintained courtesy of Hani and Catherine – ferried the guys over in multiple trips, then when it was just us and the others were there, Catherine dropped us at our request, as I didn’t want to park there. Jim indulgently agreed with his usual bemused look when I do not treat such treasures as the fifties-era Bentley as just another THING.

And no sooner were we reunited with a clump of our revelers than did a piercingly handsome runner at least twenty years our junior introduce himself to us. He had not availed himself of the showers or the sponsored clothing that was available to change into, and his rich aroma and deep baritone Spanish accent were as stunning as his appearance. Coal black hair, and plenty of it on his chest, arms and legs; roughly six-four of body like steel; decent bulge in his sweaty blue running shorts; tanned everywhere visible; piercing blue eyes; and a smile that shone a thousand watts.

Juan, as he had introduced himself to us, told us that he’d seen us on Kahala and thanked us for our support. Then he took a step in, and with a sweeping glance at each of us head to toe, he asked why “two men who are obviously runners and are so fit” as we are were not in the competition. “Is it that you preserve your stamina for more personal pleasures?” he asked, having moved so close that we were nearly chest to shirts.

Jim looked at me with a look I know well . . . because it always reflects what I am thinking in my head – and usually that’s my little head doing the thinking, as the tightening in my cargo shorts evidenced. I looked back at Juan. I took a step back and gave Juan a slow, appraising look from his big Adidas mesh running shoes, up his lean-muscled, long, dark-furred legs, stopping at his strong, well-contoured quads. His running shorts were soaked still, and upon closer inspection his bulge was noticeable but unimpressive. His running shorts rode low at his hips on his tiny waist, and the veins of his cut groin and the gutters of his Adonis belt were tantalizingly visible. His bubble butt was impressive enough to make up for any absence of notability in the front. Juan’s easy breathing caused only the most subtle ripples in his pelted eight-pack, but his slab pecs undulated enough for his broad, flat medallion nipples served as nearly hypnotic in the upper triangle of his impressive v torso. Broad, well-developed shoulders were hairless in stark contrast to the rest of him. “Are you sure that you don’t need some rest time to tackle two men as fit as we are?” the latter part in air quotes, I asked with a smirk.

Juan threw his head back and laughed and smiled. “This race? This run? This is what you say – the play of children. I mostly compete in triathlon races. This was a warm-up for the extreme physical work,” he replied with a decidedly filthy grin. As if to prove the point, he was hardening in the barely-concealing running shorts.

Jimmy clamped his big hand onto my shoulder and leaned in close enough against me for me to feel his hardening cock against my hip. I felt his warm breath tickle my ear lobe. “A good afternoon’s worth.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” I growled, holding the gaze of our Spanish bitch.

“I share the hotel room with a roommate,” he said, obviously eager.

It was my turn to chuckle, at our good luck. “We have a place to ourselves. Uber to the rescue,” I said absently as I thumbed my phone.

The moments Uber’s app annoyingly takes to confirm the ride seemed longer that day as we three waited with our endorphins stirring. When the app finally confirmed our ride, it showed a Camry a couple of blocks and two minutes away. “Over there,” I said, pointing, and clapped my free arm across my husband’s powerful shoulders and turned us away from the tents and toward the perimeter road.

When we had made our way the mile or so around Diamond head and we turned onto and were riding down the road where the house is, Juan gave forth from the front seat with an exclamation of appreciation for the neighborhood. The driver stopped first at the gate into the enclave my rich inlaws call home away from home, and Jimmy gave the guard a grin and a wave that was the equivalent of Open Sesamy. At our gate, with the call box next to the back window, Jim punched in the code. As the gate rolled back and the sea and coast were revealed over the vast flat rooftop, Juan’s exclamation was louder and longer.

Hani had the front doors open when the Uber driver got us to the entrance, and the house was surprisingly clean despite the very recent revelry which had taken place there. Impressive – maybe Hani or Catherine were Marines! I laughed to myself.

Jimmy had introduced our guest, and he’d told the couple directly that we would not need anything during the rest of the afternoon and evening. Their tactful expression of appreciation did not even betray the slightest glance toward Juan, the obvious reason Jim was dismissing them. They were leaving for their own vacation the next morning anyway, so no doubt the time to themselves would be useful for their preparations.

Juan was gazing around at the sumptuous interior and vast Pacific out off the back off the property when I came behind him and took a good grip of those cakes which were displayed so well in his sweaty running shorts. I felt the Spaniard shiver and push back into my hold. As Jimmy moved behind and against me and kissed the back of my neck, I lowered my face to the back of Juan’s neck at his hairline and inhaled his musky scent. “Mmmmmm,” moaned appreciatively, squeezing his butt tighter.

The smell of him had been intoxicating in the open air by the bandstand at the park – manly, a very natural male odor of exertion and sweat. Now the manstink was filling the room despite the open wall to the outside and the sea breeze which was not sufficient to overpower three sex-minded men. Raging pheromones added to the sweat of exertion, and the arousing aroma of male sexual anticipation was overpoweringly CUMpelling.

Our bitch’s moan at my tightened grip was longer and louder, and his press back into me stronger. I let my fingers stray up the legs of his shorts, and my middle finger found his sweaty hole, increasing the volume of his moan. He ground himself into my fingertip until he had me inside him, and then he pushed back farther, begging for more with both his actions and his sounds.

Jimmy kissed and chewed my neck and had his hands down my shorts and had my hardening cock and heavy hanging nuts in his own grip, driving me as nuts as the smell of us and the feel of the runner. My husband further humped me with his massive hardon, as hard as steel, rubbing into the small of my back and my butt and making my need to fuck SOMEone acute.
Juan was panting and moaning gyrating like a bitch in heat . . . which he clearly was. His self-fucking on my fully-inserted finger was abruptly cut short when he finally croaked out, “I should clean. I carbed up before the race.”

We both knew what he meant. Logistics intrude, but the primal drive was too strong at that point. “Fuck that!” growled, and I felt Jimmy’s breath catch in excitement behind me. “You wanted to get fucked, so that’s what’s going to happen,” I declared, and shoved my long middle finger and index finger together inside him as far as I could, getting a deep yelp out of him as I did.

“Si . . . yes,” he gasped and groaned. “I want.” He emphasized his desire by grinding back onto my two fat fingers.

When I crooked my fingers and gave his p-spot a tweak, Juan shouted and started to fall back into me. I didn’t stop with my fingers, but I did get my other hand under his sweaty armpit to keep him upright. “Steady there. We’ve got a long way to go here.”

Jimmy reached around and caught Juan’s other armpit and helped hold him while I worked Juan’s spot until he was writhing and jerking, and he was crying out and begging to be fucked. But I didn’t relent, and I just kept working him like that, and the bitch kept whimpering and shouting and begging and fucking himself back onto my fingers, now twisting and prodding and pumping in and out of him.

When I finally felt that the bitch was about to lose control – his pre had soaked through and made a huge spot within the sweaty wetness of his shorts’ crotch, and his gasps were telling of a man about to blow his nutt – I not gently yanked my fingers out of him, eliciting a sharp gasp and exclamation. “MIERDA!”

Then we propelled him out onto the patio and across to one of the teak tables and pushed him back. “Get up there,” I told him, and Jim went around to help him hoist himself onto the sun-warmed hard wood with his quivering legs unreliable by that point.

I brought my fingers of both hands to my nose and inhaled deeply, more for awareness than because I intended to warn Jimmy before he went in. His armpit was mansweat to the extreme, and my head spun from that alone. But the heavy musk of his hole and buttsweat without a hint of anything more treacherous had my nuts controlling the shots for certain.
Juan and Jim were both watching me, and by way of answer to their unspoken question I put my fingers in my mouth and sucked them and pulled them out slowly. Smacking my lips, I told Jimmy, “Open him up for me, husband!”

Jim’s eyes were hooded, and he wasted no time getting around into position between the runner’s darkly-furred, muscular legs, and pushed his knees back until Juan caught them behind his knees and held himself well and truly open. Jimmy spit aggressively on the hairy brown hole that was winking at him, and Juan spasmed, and his hardon spewed forth a big dollop of precum on his groin fur.

I was moving around to get my cock into Juan’s face when he howled like a bitch. I saw Jimmy had dove in face-first. He was beginning to slurp and spit in the runner-bitch’s hole, and Juan thrashed his head about in frustration. “Please, I beg jou,” he cried out, his accent seeming to become thicker.

Jim lined up and smeared his precummy cockknob on the snapping cunt he’d just eaten – and MAN I wanted to taste that ass on my husband’s face. “NOW!” Juan roared, thrashing his body toward Jimmy and slamming his hand down on the teak table with a loud SMACK when his attempt to impale himself on Jimmy’s ten-plus inches of horsecock failed.

As he roared in frustration, he also threw his head back off the edge of the table, and that was my opening, as it were. With his mouth open in a howl and his neck hyperextended, I caught his corded throat and held him steady while I shoved my fat bullcock into his mouth. Another hard smack of the tabletop with one hand, and his other flailed back toward me.

Then, a loud, deep wail of pain as Jimmy shoved into him, giving him what he’d wanted a bit more aggressively than he’d expected. I felt Jimmy holding steady inside, giving the bitch’s cuntmuscles time to adjust, just as my steady grip on his throat and my cock pressing at his throat’s opening, his mouth straining around my girth, was in hopes of him relaxing so I could shove the other 5 or 6 inches of me down his gullet.

While the bitch didn’t have much luck with my cock, he was already pushing back to get more of Jimmy, and there was no delay in the beginning of his sound reaming. Loud, long moans and cries around my cock as he did his best – which wasn’t great – to suck me while he got cuntstuffed roughly by my other half.

When I finally realized I was no way getting my FAT fuckpole down the Spaniard’s throat, I gave up trying to coax his opening and let him tongue and lip-suck my head and a few inches of me. I also leaned over toward Jimmy, who did the same, and as we kissed over the bitch between us I inhaled deeply of Juan’s musk all over Jimmy’s face. When I licked in a long swipe over his upper lip and then back along his chin, Jimmy ROARED and SLAMMED into Juan, causing him to loudly react, muffled by his cock-stuffed mouth.

I could tell that Juan’s cunt was tight and talented by Jimmy’s expressions as he soundly fucked him. He drilled him deep and hard and faster, and once he caught the bitch’s p-spot and Juan trashed about so wildly that I removed my cock lest he bite it off, Jimmy was like a crazed movie executive raping a starlet.

(Okay, sorry to bring THAT up! But you have to admit it paints the picture!)

I got myself up on the seat and teabagged the bitch and steadied myself on Jimmy’s shoulders as his hips drove Juan right over the edge in a howling climax that had his Spanish spooge splattering up onto me and back down on himself as he yelled and thrashed and rode it for all it was worth. Jimmy, in turn, was hurtling toward the edge himself, as his face and clenched teeth showed. He finally slammed into the bitch SO hard one last time that I stumbled back off the seat from the force of the impact.

“FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” was the only intelligible word cried by my husband as his face screwed up, his body as taut as if it were stone. Then “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” as he began convulsing and thrashing his head about in the familiar way I know him to be blasting his nutt HARD and draining his cumtanks forcefully.

My Spanish isn’t good, but I’m pretty sure the translation of the bitch’s loud, enthusiastic response to his cuntchute being drenched with blast after blast of my husband’s seed was probably, “OH FUCK YEAH I WANT EVERY FUCKN DROP!”

As both of them finally calmed down – Jimmy still fully planted inside Juan, Juan’s body limp, his legs now splayed on the table – Jimmy gave me a grin and quietly growled, “YOUR turn!”
We hurriedly changed positions and I yanked the bitch’s ankles into the air high and wide and shoved my blunt end against his gaping, sopping cunthole. Just as Juan was croaking some protest about me being too big, Jimmy shoved his cock fully inside the bitch’s throat. Eyes wide Juan’s protests were muted, and I pressed in.

Despite my husband’s huge cock’s stretching, my fat head was met with enough resistance that I had to SHOVE to get inside Juan’s cunt. That got a frenzied, but barely audible scream out of him, around Jim’s magnificent fuckstick. The way his cockhead was visible pressing out at the base of Juan’s throat and his Adam’s apple was bouncing as he tried to scream from the invasion at my end was like gasoline on the fire of my need to FUCK that bitch.
So I did. ROUGH. DEEP. Long-dicking him in pounding strokes and slamming into his pelvis and then pulling out to where his cunt was STRETCHED open around my monstrous head, then IN again. Over and over.

Jim had started fucking his face, too, and he was gurgling, gagging, choking, spitting and drool was running out of his mouth and down the sides of his face and neck as Jimmy just kept using his hole. His firm grip on the sides of Juan’s sweat-soaked head was better than any staged pornography. And Jimmy’s exceptionally muscular – but lean, ripped, corded – physique rolling an rippling as he face-fucked the bitch was going straight to my already-burning nuts.

I decided to get it moving along and took aim and began nailing the bitch’s p-spot with every thrust just as I grabbed his nuts in a tight grip and pulled and squeezed them as I worked him up. The cries and spasms and thrashing just made the angles I hit his pleasure knob at vary and intensify, and within a couple of minutes he was cumming like a firehose again.
Jimmy pulled out defensively and jacked himself until he blew his second wad all over the bitch’s face, neck, chest and abs and got some on me in the process. Between his cunt clenching as he came and Jimmy’s spray that was it for me, and I went tense. “FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUU——–“ I went to silent as the skyrockets of my lust were ignited as Jimmy took a long swipe from the bitch’s sweaty, cummy neck down through the cleft of his slab pecs and filled his mouth with his own seed and the bitch’s sweat. Just as my body broke with the intensity of a matter-antimatter explosion, Jimmy had his big paw around my neck and had pulled our mouths together and we snowballed his load as I shot mine so hard into the bitch’s wrecked cunt that it felt like I might throw out my back.

I shot and shot, and I floated somewhere outside of the writhing and thrashing consciousness my body was experiencing. I was aware of my husband’s lips and tongue and the familiar taste of his essence, along with the delicious taste of our bitch’s sweat, but that was a sort of external appreciation as I floated.

At length, Jimmy let go of his gentle but firm grip on the back of my neck, and we parted. Juan was completely limp under me and around my cock, still hard and pulsing inside his gooey depths. I pulled out and then went around and shoved my cock at his face, smacking him alert, then ordering him, “Clean it.”

The bitch went to work, but it was clear that after the first two swipes with his tongue, he didn’t encounter anything unpleasant, and he went to work in earnest. He gave the length of me and my nuts and sac a thorough laving and struggled to get his head to where he could suck my ass. As hosts, we wouldn’t deny a guest, so I got myself to where I could grind my ass fully on his face, and he went to town loudly and hungrily. But when Jimmy alerted me that Juan was jacking his cock frenetically while he was eating me out, I dismounted and smacked his hand away.

“You ask permission before you touch your cock OR cum again. Understood?” I barked.

The Spaniard’s handsome lips curled into a grin. “Si, SENOR,” he smirked.

I didn’t know whether to smack him, laugh or give his abs a pat and tell him he was a good boy. Clearly Jimmy didn’t either, and he just looked at me, waiting.

“I think we’ve earned a cool-down, and I knew we should all rehydrate.” I’d punted, yes. But such was my prerogative, and Jim’s grin told me he didn’t mind one bit.

I led the way to the outdoor shower – which is always just cool enough, not hot from the sun nor chilly in the early morning after our runs – and we all rinsed off. Juan tried to get his cunt tidied up, but it was gaping as if it would never close, and cum just kept running out. I’ll admit that seeing our cum running down his thighs was HOT!

I got us all big bottles of water from the outdoor bar, and we sort of stood awkwardly, first guzzling, then sipping the water. Jimmy was grinning, and that made me grin. Juan was the most uncomfortable. Finally he asked, “You want I go now?”

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, got it. “You’re free to go any time. We’ll order you an Uber or drive you whenever you want,” I told him. “But I’m thinking we can have LOADs more fun together, and we’ve got all afternoon,” I added.

I didn’t wait around for his answer, and I took several loping steps and then dove into the big infinity pool and stretched my legs and arms as I swam the length. Before I got to the other end, I felt two other entries to the water and smiled to myself.

We all three ended up hanging over the glass wall at the edge, overlooking the beautiful Pacific below us and the O’ahu coastline. We made smalltalk about the beauty of the view, that the house belongs to Jim’s parents, that yes, we were certain that the caretakers had not been spectators – their cottage is off the garage on the garden on the east end of the house anyway – and some tidbits about Joan, as he gently corrected us on his name. HO-ahn. I stifled a laugh at the HO, and Jimmy admonished me with his stern look, knowing exactly what I was thinking!

It seems that our runner-slut is actually an investment banker from Barcelona . . . and a rather successful one at that. I’d taken the only data we had – that he was sharing a hotel room – to suggest more moderate financial circumstances. But it seemed that the reason for the room share was that he’d been generous to a fellow runner from Spain who could not afford to stay in a nice hotel on his own or even to share a nice room. Joan saved him from making the decision to either forego the Honolulu marathon due to the exorbitant hotel prices, particularly in December, or staying in a “hostel”. I wondered, though, if a hostel in Honolulu might be nicer than most hotel rooms in other cities.

Still the extent of the comfort of Jim’s parents’ accommodations was sufficient to have Joan gaping, and Jimmy, uncomfortable with the focus on his parents’ obvious wealth – and his, though Joan didn’t know that – changed the subject by offering lunch. Joan’s look of eagerness was immediate and extreme – poor guy, we’d known he’d just run his ass off, and then we make him WORK his ass off! Certainly he had to be famished.

We grabbed some pool towels and wrapped ourselves and tracked across the rough slate floors inside to the kitchen and went to work like savages pillaging everything edible we could find. When we’d made a thorough mess of the kitchen and were finally leaning back too full to move, Catherine appeared. She looked about the mess strewn over several of the long, wide surfaces in the vast kitchen and smiled. “It’s good to have people enjoying themselves here,” she told us. “Why don’t you boys get anything else you want and go out and enjoy the afternoon sun while I put this kitchen back right again. Oh, and Mister James, will your guest be staying for dinner tonight? I am planning a special dinner for you and Mr. William tonight before we are gone for the ten days.”

Jimmy quickly handled that all. He very gently got Catherine to accept that he wanted her to relax for the evening rather than putting together some feast, and he invited Joan – and his roommate, if he was available – to dinner with us in Waikiki. I always marvel at how adept Jimmy is in any social situation – a stark contrast to my complete and total ineptitude.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I pulled the vintage Bentley convertible up into the hotel’s portico right on time, and Joan and his roommate were there already, but they were immediately inside the lobby waiting for us instead of at the restaurant bar. Joan’s friend – Paul – Pah-OOOL – was not what we expected. He was every bit as fit as Joan, as evidenced by a well-fitted short-sleeved shirt untucked over walking shorts that showed off his olive-skinned, well-shaped runner’s legs. But his face was stunning, like he should be a movie star, not whatever he did that didn’t seem to pay him much.

Paul protested and wanted to beg off dinner, telling us that he didn’t want to take advantage of our generosity. His accent was much stronger than Joan’s, but his English vocabulary and syntax was better. Jimmy waived off his protests, and he clamped his big arm around Paul’s broad shoulders and pulled him through the Surfrider lobby and out to the steakhouse overlooking the beach.

Jim knows this hotel has a special place in my past – almost a week spent there when I was posted to MCBH and had just returned from a devastating, soul-crushing mission and hooked up with a gentle man who was the perfect antidote for a Marine’s moment of weakness. Now, on our trips to Honolulu, we’ve made it our place, even having rented out the biggest suite, the same one that gentle angel who helped me through over fifteen years before had inhabited, and we’d made our own history in every part of it.

As our delightful dinner progressed, it became clear that Paul expected to have to let us fuck him in repayment. Nothing could have been farther from our intentions – though we did intend to take Joan back to our place and keep him all night! As often happens, the thought about Paul’s expectation came to Jimmy and me at about the same time. We stumbled through a reassuring discussion, and the most difficult part was that he seemed to think he hadn’t measured up in some way. As always, Jim’s way with people won out, and we ended the evening with a long walk after dinner along the beach that took us all the way down to where their hotel was.

Paul said his goodbyes at that mid-point of our post-dinner walk, and Joan stayed with us on the walk back west along Waikiki beach, which is every bit as vibrant and beautiful in the moonlight at 22:30 as it is in the hot afternoon sun. As we walked back to the Surfrider to get our car, we three walked arms around shoulders and just enjoyed ourselves. It’s easy being with Joan, and our afternoon’s sexcapades and the promise of more put enough of a frisson into our easy togetherness to make it exciting.

That night, though, our sex was slow and easy. Three hairy men – two middle-aged, one far from it – all in great shape and enjoying each other’s muscles, textures, tastes, smells and reactions. We’d already wrecked Joan’s hole, so when he was languidly riding my cock as I lay back enjoying it, and Jimmy was behind him gently stroking Joan’s cock with one hand and playing with his nipples with his other, and then suddenly Jimmy was forcing him inside Joan alongside my fat cock which was already stretching him obscenely, I was suddenly ignited into near frenzy.

We’d NEVER gotten a bitch who could take both of us – ever! Most had trouble with either of us alone, particularly my bullcock. Joan cried out in a mixture of pain and desire as Jim pressed into his dripping cunt alongside me. I started to spear up into him, but Jimmy stopped me. “No, my love, relax and just let Joan take us at his own pace. He began rubbing my legs gently to slow me down, and I responded.

Joan struggled, but he managed to open himself enough by leaning forward almost horizontal on my chest to allow Jimmy entry. When he had him inside and was finally beginning to move some on us, Jimmy laid back between my legs and pulled Joan upright again. When Joan was up and seated fully on us both, I noticed his cock was hard as a lead pipe and dripping copious amounts of precum.

Slowly, with his head tilted back as if he was far away somewhere, Joan began to ride the two of us. Impaled on us, his only motions were up and down and some very pleasing gyrations. My “HOLY FUCK that’s GOOD!” seemed to stoke him, and he began grunting as he rode us more aggressively, and both of us moaned our encouragement and appreciation.
Jimmy was the first to begin to countertime thrusts up into Joan, and the feeling of Joan bouncing on us and my husband’s thick, hard, veiny fuckrod rubbing alongside mine was beyond description. Soon we were all three awkwardly in the mix – not rough or crazy, but energetically and interspersed with laughter when the cadence went a bit wrong. He rode us like that for so long that even my training to be a flawless judge of time failed me . . . we just went on.

Finally Joan decided to let us do the thrusting, and he began gyrating his cunt around us in a circular rhythm. Jimmy and I are good with eachother’s rhythms, and we soon were alternating thrusts up into him while he worked us like an old washing machine swirling around and around on us, his cunt stretched to its limit and squeezing us TIGHT.
Joan found his own spot and worked himself to where each of our thrusts were nailing his p-spot almost every time, and he moaned and carried on, undulating faster and faster on and around us as he worked himself to the edge. When he finally cried out long and loud as his body tensed and his cunt clenched us so painfully we had trouble maintaining a stroke rhythm into him, his entire body was covered with a sheen of sweat – his fur, his skin, his hairline along his neck dripping – and his muscles were a symphony of sight as he broke into his climax.

Shot after shot sprayed me as he came without ever touching himself, crying, screaming, moaning, growling and exclaiming in Spanish as he shot 7 healthy shots all over my hair, face, neck, chest, and abs as he loosed his seed. I felt Jimmy’s cock go rigid and fatter next to mine, and I reached out and felt his thighs alongside Joan’s ass and over my thighs and felt him tensed and about to explode. That pulled me over the edge, and as Joan cried out his appreciation for us soaking his STRETCHED insides, I lost all sense of Jimmy’s cock versus mine pulsing and blasting and going hypersensitive but unable to stop my body’s trajectory along the pleasure path.

The puddle of cum having flowed out of Joan’s STRETCHED cunt was HUGE. We laughed as we tried to get ourselves situated to where the three of us could occupy the bed, be in contact with one another – a 3-way spoon – and none of us be in the puddle. It was impossible, and laughing with resignation to the necessity, we got up, stripped the bed down to the mattress pad which had been sopping up spooge already and got to remaking the bed after Jimmy finally found the linens. We used a rarely-used duvet for a mattress pad, not having found one, and I’ll admit that both that and the silky sheets we replaced the fine cotton ones which had been on the bed made for a heavenly laydown when we finally got to it.

We fell asleep that way – 3 spoons . . . and had one of the best nights of sleep ever on that, Joan’s last night in Honolulu.

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Three days ago, I’d just gotten home from baseball practice as the coach of our local community college baseball team when the doorbell rang. It was Austin, the 19-year-old next door neighbor, a really hot horny guy. He liked to hang out with me and for the past three years he had volunteered to mow my lawn in return for using my weight equipment in my downstairs rec-room.

Austin is much younger than me but he seems to have chosen me as his best buddy although I’m a single 35-year-old man around town and not a virgin. I often invite Austin to play a round of golf with me or out on a day of fly fishing. But I’d never revealed to him that I was an active gay man respecting both our privacy plus very aware of our age differences. 

Austin is really hot with his fairly long curly brown hair, brown sparkling eyes, slim hard muscled 150 pound smooth almost hairless body, coming in at 5-feet and 9-inches and seems to always be wearing very tight pants or cut-offs that show off that big bulge in his crotch area. I admit that he turns me on causing me to be constantly horny around him.

Austin has often made the comment that he so admires my athletic trim body with my dark Italian complexion, dark hair, black eyes, my very close trimmed black mustache, my tall 6-feet and 2-inches and my muscle riddled 190 pounds. He has often seen me shirtless with my moderate dark chest and stomach hair. He frequently says: “Hey Coach, as a handsome dark man with that hard chest covered dark hair, I bet you have no trouble getting all the pussy you want? Do the ladies love the feel of that mustache on their pussy when you’re eating out their pussy?”

It was obvious that Austin was one horny young 19-year-old and the way he brought up the subject of my being handsome, I was sure he had the hots for me. I usually answered: “Well Austin, you’re no wimp in that department yourself and I bet those college co-eds come on to you?”

I guess in my horny condition I was baiting him but still fearful of having sex with him and possibly destroying our present relationship plus what if his parents found out I was fucking their son although he would be a hot bitch. He was the kind of bitch that I lusted after with all those young raging hormones. These young dudes know how to fuck for hours with all that hormone supply.

We left it at that until what happened three days ago. I answered the doorbell and there stood hot Austin only in a pair of cut-offs and flip-flops, wow he looked so hot. I was sure he had a hard on. “Hi Austin, come on in and have a seat on the sofa.”

As I sat close to him on the sofa horny as hell, he looked into my eyes with lust and said: “Hey Coach,  You got a few minutes? I want to show you what happened to me last night at a wild party from my buddies after I passed out drunk.”

“Sure Austin, what did they do to you?”

Holy shit, Austin unzipped his pants and lowered them to his feet and then removed his boxers revealing a very impressive big circumcised thick long cock that was at least semi-hard. I felt my cock began to stiffen and my resistance fade.

“Austin, what in the hell happened? Your pubic hair has been shaven off and the words ‘Hey Fag, do you want some dick’?”

“See Coach, last night I passed out from drinking too much beer at that wild party and my buddies shaved off my pubic hair and wrote that statement. Just look at what they did. I guess while drunk they thought this was cool and I guess I agree. I just wanted to show you what happened.”

I could not take my eyes off that clean shaven crotch, that big growing cock, those big cum filled balls and the smell of his active libido and hormones. Oh how I wanted Austin at that moment and if he gave any interest I’d go for some fresh young meat.

Austin noticed my starring at his big meat causing me to blush. Austin went for it when he moved very close as his leg rubbed against my thigh and he said: “Coach, do you like what you see? How about touching my big hard dick if you want to? I’d really like for you to take hold of my fucking dick and feel you rub it. I confess you’ve turned me on for years and I often masturbate shooting a big load dreaming of us fucking and sucking cock. You have a hot athletic body and I love your dark handsome body. Go ahead and touch it. It wan’t bite you but it might spit at you. I will not tell anyone, I promise.”

Any powers of resistance had melted away. This hot  fucking horny teenager was seducing me and I was ready. I grabbed hold of that then rock hard cock and began to run my hand up and down that big warm leaking cock shaft that was rapidly filling with blood as was my cock. Soon that piss slit was spewing precum on my fingers. Austin began to moan and soon he took his hand and ran it across my crotch finding out how hard my dick had become. We had crossed the line and wild sex was about to happen. It was too late to stop.

“Hey Coach, fuck yea, you’re getting as hard as I am. You want to make love to me, don’t you? Coach I want you to let me suck your hard cock and you can suck my big 8-inch cut dong and please will you fuck my virgin ass? You will be my first man sex. Man, I want you so bad. Be the first person to have sex with me. Let me be your fucking bitch.”

Holy shit, I’d never been hornier and I responded: “Fuck yea Austin, I’m so horny for you right now. I love young fresh meat and especially with a virgin. I can teach you lots about man sex. Lets get out of these fucking clothes and go to my bed for some real hot man fucking man on man sex.”

We rushed out of our clothes and man was Austin hot and sexy with that young hard hairless white marble body with that big cock standing at full attention with his piss slit shinny from all that leaking precum. His cock looked even bigger with no pubic hair to hide that awesome tool. He was driving me wild with lust.

My whole body shivered just looking at that young virgin fresh meat that was ready for my appetite. I wanted his young sexy cock and ass as much as he wanted my older experienced body. It was obvious that Austin lusted after older men as he was about to get his first daddy.

“Hey Austin, I’ll suck your cock first so you will get the idea how to service a horny man’s cock, just like my 8.5 inch hard dick. How much will you be able to swallow of my giant dick?”

Austin got on the bed in his glorious naked torso on his back, spread those young sexy legs with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed giving me a clear path to his throbbing cock. I knelt and took hold of the base of that huge dick and began to kiss and lick his slick cock head. I licked the shaven area of his crotch, sucked hard on his hot balls, and gradually ran my wet tongue up and down that pulsating cock shaft as Austin began to moan and actually scream from the pleasure of having his cock serviced by such an experienced fucking gay dude.

After licking his blood filled hard dick for some five-minutes while smelling his freshly showered crotch, I slowly took his large white smooth dick deep in my throat until his balls were up against my chin. I became wild with lust tasting his sweet drips of precum, the silk like feel of his hard cock on my tongue and lips as he ran his sexy hands through my head hair. I’d never enjoyed a man’s cock this much. I soaked that big hard cock with my growing gobs of spit, went off and back down on that aching cock for the longest time enjoying the smell and taste of that young fresh meat.

“Oh fuck yea, oh my god Coach, suck my cock. Yea that is it. Fuck Coach, the feel of your mustache on my dick is so awesome. Don’t stop. Make me come.”

Finally I felt his cock head expand, the veins in his cock throbbed against my lips and with one big gasp from Austin, he erupted with a torrent load of cum that filled my mouth to overflow with half of his seed running out my mouth; coating my mustache; coated my lips; down my chin; and onto my chest. Young 19-year-old turks always have such a huge supply of man semen to share. The smell and taste were exotic. Austin licked his cum off my chin, my mustache and swallowed that seed.

Austin was so eager to suck my cock for his first blowjob. He was off the bed in seconds, fell to his knees and grabbed hold of my big hard dick, as I stood by the bed. There was no gradual licking of my cock but rather he took my big dick all the way to the back of his throat. He was one hungry bitch for dick. I’d never had a dude suck me that hard and fast. It was awesome. He was milking my cock like a baby thirsty  for his mother’s milk. It was so powerful and arousing that I made him stop after about four minutes so I could fuck his young hairless pink ass.

Without a word, I put Austin up in my arms and threw him on the bed on his  stomach. Without any instructions from me, he spread his legs and feet far apart, he took his hands and spread those pink sexy cheeks giving me a direct shot at his man pussy. It was the most sexy asshole I’d ever had my cock in.

I was almost delirious as I mounted this young virgin friend and drove my dripping cock all the way inside his silk soft juicy fresh young teenage ass. I began to fuck  him rough and fast as our balls touched making the fuck hot as hell. I pounded that virgin ass for the longest time feeling my cock rub against those soft ass walls. Austin begged: “Oh Coach, fuck yea, oh my god, oh fuck yea Coach, that is it. Oh Coach, you have that big manhood inside me, wow that is the way I’ve wanted a cock for so long. Coach fuck me and come inside me.”

For a first time young virgin getting his ass fucked, he managed to discover how to use his ass muscles to squeeze my dick getting me close to a climax.

The feel of the most soft silk-like ass my cock had ever invaded and Austin begging me to come put me over the edge. However, I managed to pull out and dump my huge load on his sexy ass. Then I drove my cum covered cock and part of that cum load back into his puckering ass that drove Austin so wild that he actually ejaculated for the second time soaking my sheets.

I then pulled my cock out and turned Austin onto his back and had him suck my cock clean.

After we had showered, Austin spoke up: “Coach thanks so much for deflowering me and I now know how great man sex is. My buddies were correct to write on my body “Hey fag”. I hope you will let me be your fucking bitch and we can fuck and suck cock ever day.”

“Austin, your young body and lively libido has me wild for more sex with you. My dick loves your soft wet man pussy and all that fresh young man meat. But we must keep this our secret and especially from your parents.”

“Coach I agree. This is just between us as an older guy and 19-year-old teenager. Coach, I really like an older man, you so turn me on. You really know how to fuck a young virgin fresh pussy.”

“Have a lovely evening out. You deserve it and it’s about time you did it.”

I tucked the sheet under Raymond at the side and gritted my teeth. I was getting irritated at everyone saying that to me. Raymond’s night nurse, Chester, had said it when I’d come into Raymond’s bedroom to say goodnight to him. Raymond’s lawyer and president of the Asheville Gay Men’s Chorus that both Raymond and I had belonged to before Raymond entered his last, bedridden months and that Raymond was a principle patron of had told me that when he’d insisted I come to the choir’s concert this evening and then on to his party afterward.

Raymond had backed him up. In that gaspy voice he’d now acquired, Raymond said, “A young man from Atlanta we want as the choir’s new director will be at the concert and party, checking us out. I want you to check him out for me and let me know if he’s worth the money we’re offering. I want you to be nice to him, and I want you to enjoy the evening. You’ve run yourself ragged taking care of me.”

We both knew why I was sticking so closely with Raymond these last few months as cancer was pulling him down into the depths. We’d been together for twelve years, but I hadn’t taken the relationship seriously for the first four. He’d fallen in love early, and I’d fallen in like initially. But that hadn’t kept me from catting around for the first four years. He was thirty-eight years older than I was. It had taken a dust-up and the fear that he’d throw me out that made me realize I loved him too. And I’d spent the next eight years trying to assure him that I did. This was my last chance.

Even his doctor had told me I needed a break from this, and when finding out that Raymond wanted me to go this concert, had virtually ordered me to go. I gave in to them all, but I knew I’d fret the entire evening and would have to pretend to have a good time.

People lifted their eyebrows when they first learned that Raymond and I were a couple. They assumed he was an old fool and I was a gold digger. It took them to know us to know we were as good as married–and had been at least for the last eight years of our twelve-year relationship.

The arrangement had started in New York, where I was a wet-behind-the-ears, but randy gay young man trying to make it as a song and dance man on Broadway. Raymond, a rich businessman, was one of those “Broadway Angels” who made it possible for plays to get to the stage. I was good, but so were so many other young hopefuls trying to break into Broadway. I’d made it into the chorus line of a musical by being willing to go on my back and open my legs for men important to the production. That wasn’t a real problem for me; I was randy and needy. I gauged men by their cock size and backswing more than by any other factor in those days.

I was nineteen and Raymond was fifty-seven. He was a handsome, confident, elegantly dressed fifty-seven, though. And he could keep it up and quickly reload seven-and-a-half thick inches. The play’s producer, who was bedding me, invited Raymond to an after-rehearsal party one evening when he needed to gin up more money to keep the production on the tracks. He asked me to be very nice to Raymond and offered Raymond the use of one of his bedrooms. Raymond took me to the bedroom and was seven-and-a-half inches good to me for a half hour. Then he offered me a ride in his limousine around the park and he was seven-and-a-half thick inches good to me in a missionary on the backseat of his car. The limousine took us to his Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment, and Raymond was seven-and-a-half inches good to me in a doggie fuck on his bed.

He kept me. He claimed it was love at first fuck for him. He used that as a joke line among select friends, and it always drew a laugh and, I must say, some licentious looks in my direction from contemporary-age friends of his.

I was impressed with his wealth, his seven-and-a-half inches, and his ability to reload quickly–even at fifty-seven. He also always treated me well and with near reverence. He wasn’t shy to say he was a lucky man to have me. He claimed never to have fallen out of love with me. I knew I learned to love him for much more than his money–or even his seven-and-a-half inches that he had still been able to harden until the last few months of his inevitable fading away. But because of those first four uneven-commitment years, I had forever maintained a guilt and a need to prove my love and devotion to him.

All of the forces at play had to mobilize to get me to leave him even for an evening to check out the new choir director prospect. We were in that stage where he could go at any moment and quickly entering the stage where release would be a blessing for him.

The concert was fine, making me nostalgic for when Raymond and I both were in it, me as a tenor, Raymond as a low baritone. The men in the choir were all supportive of us. For them, the thirty-eight years’ difference in our ages meant nothing. They could see and understand that we were devoted to each other. It had been a good move to come to less hectic and demanding Asheville from New York City after Raymond had retired–officially, although he still had his hand in the management of his companies. Or he had until he’d been taken ill. Now I was taking up the slack there too. Luckily, he hadn’t let me just be his kept boy toy these twelve years. I’d been given responsibility in his businesses. I knew them almost as well now as he did. It was clear I would inherit them–and that our employees would accept me. Raymond had done that for me. All I could do for him now, I thought, was to be loyal to him to the end.

The choir director prospect from Atlanta was even finer than the concert had been. I didn’t meet him until the after-concert party at Aaron’s house. He was at the concert, but I wouldn’t have been able to pick him out in the audience there. He was young, in his mid-twenties. He was much too young to fit his résumé. Aaron told me, when I asked, that he had been a child prodigy, accumulating accolades from his early teens and graduating from college and his music training before he reached twenty. He was, Aaron said, the assistant director of the Atlanta Gay Men’s Choir now and obviously was underutilized in that position. Aaron told me we wanted him here in Asheville and to be very nice to him. And then he introduced us.

Jason Ward was a hunk and a half. He did look like he was in his mid-twenties, and he looked like both a movie star and an athlete. He was solidly built, trim but muscular. He dressed elegantly; spoke with refinement; had sensual, dark looks and a ready smile and eyes that concentrated and captivated the one he was speaking to; and his voice enveloped me in a rich, resonating baritone.

The effect he had on me was that I went hard for him. That wasn’t unusual for me in engaging with a man I could imagine lying under. Being attached and loyal to Raymond hadn’t kept me from being aroused by a desirable man, and Raymond had understood that. In our more active years, we’d made a game out of it. When he’d seen me being attracted by a man, we’d talk about what attracted me later, in bed, as he was covering me, and he’d bang the hell out of me while whispering a scenario in my ear of me with the other man. If Raymond had still been up to it, my report on Jason to him would have led to such a night in bed.

That didn’t mean I’d actually been unfaithful to Raymond after those first four, uncommitted years in which I was still sowing oats even though I slept in his bed. I think that Raymond would have endured my going with other men, especially as he got older, as long as I slept in his bed, and thus how freely we went with imagining me doing so and Raymond being the voyeur, but I was determined to try to give him the same commitment he’d given me after he’d taken me back. Thus far I had managed that.

Once introduced, Jason stayed with me, even with others drifting by to speak with him and try, not to subtly, to convince him to come to Asheville. He was attentive, witty, and knowledgeable, although we spoke mostly in general terms and didn’t get into the nitty-gritty of music. I felt like maybe he was being grilled enough by others on that and I kept more to the delights of living in Asheville as a gay person. I assumed he was gay himself to be involved in gay men’s chorus. He certainly responded to me in the natural way of one man being interested sexually in another man.

I found myself hoping he was gay and then checking my thoughts. I mustn’t stray from my loyalty to Raymond, I thought. Although, if I was to construct the perfect man lover in my mind, Jason would fit the bill. If Raymond had still been up to our games, I would have climaxed left and right while he was fucking me but whispering about Jason fucking me.

At the end of the evening, I asked Aaron if I could use his telephone to call a taxi. I’d found the batteries in my cellphone were dead. But before Aaron could speak–he, strangely, looked at Jason rather than me when I asked that–Jason broke in and said, “Nonsense. Don’t spend money on a cab. I have a rental car. I’ll drive you home. I’m ready to leave too.”

At the door, while Jason was saying his good-byes to those still at the party, Aaron said, “Be nice to him. I think you know what I mean by that. We want him here. And have a lovely evening. You deserve the break. Raymond and I have discussed this; he wants you to have this evening.”

Before I could respond to that, Jason was there, at my elbow.

He drove, not to Raymond’s and my penthouse apartment on Grindstaff Drive, but to the Residence Inn on Biltmore Avenue, four blocks short of my street.

“I’m further up the road,” I said.

“This is where I’m staying,” he said. “Please come in for a while and keep me company. I have a unit with a living area and nice kitchenette. I have questions about the men’s chorus, questions I need to pursue before deciding whether to come here. I can’t be sure about the answers men would give me who are active in the choir. I understand you once were in the choir but no longer are. You are in a unique position to fill me in on some of the particulars. I have wine on ice. I’d like to have someone to share it with me.”

I knew I should demure. Raymond was at home. He needed me and I needed to assure him of my loyalty. But he had told me to be nice to Jason Ward, to help convince him to come to Asheville. Aaron had said the same, adding that Raymond wanted me to have my pleasure. I couldn’t deny the request to help with the decision as a nominally independent voice was a reasonable one.

In the back of my mind, I knew I shouldn’t open the passenger door and step out. But I did.

* * * *

We were sitting beside each other on the sofa, looking into the gas-log fire. Jason had his left arm around my neck, holding me close into his side. We had stopped talking and were looking at each other, eye to eye, for the longest moment. He dipped his face into mine and kissed the corner of my mouth, moving quickly away to gauge my reaction with his eyes again. I tried not to react, not to show him how needy I was. I hadn’t had a man between my legs for months; I hadn’t had any man other the Raymond between my thighs for years. Raymond had been sick for a couple of months. I had managed to give him some pleasure and release with my hands, but I had had to take care of my own needs.

I was vulnerable. Jason was compelling. All doubt had evaporated about his intentions for the evening. I couldn’t help but be flattered. I was six years older than he told me he was, although I’d kept my looks and my body. Men still made passes at me–not often gods like Jason was, though. My eyes went to the bed, just over there, in the soft-lit area off the living room, beckoning to us. I was weak.

But Raymond had been sick for a couple of months. We had been together for so long. I’d done what I could to keep him assured of my commitment to him.

But Raymond hadn’t asked me for total commitment and he’d clearly signaled otherwise for tonight.

My reaction must not have been what I intended, because Jason took the wine glass out of my hand and leaned over and placed it on the coffee table that was between the sofa and the fireplace. When he sat back into the sofa cushions again, his lips came back to my face and he kissed me directly on the lips. The kiss was tentative, testing, to begin with, but I heard myself moan as he pressed the tip of his tongue between my lips and, without intending to, I opened my lips and let his tongue inside.

“I hope I’m not being too forward,” he whispered when we came out of the kiss. “Aaron told me that you might be willing–”

“Yes,” I murmured, cutting him off from naming it out loud.

“Yes to what?” he asked, smiling at me.

“Yes to the kissing, at least,” I answered. I think we both knew it wouldn’t stop there, though, but that he had to take it slow. He didn’t seem concerned that I hadn’t surrendered to more yet.

He took my mouth with his again. I felt his right hand at the buttons of my shirt, undoing them and pulling the front of my shirt out of my trousers. The pressure of the kiss became more possessive and he was running his hand over my chest, my hard pecs, and down my flat belly while his tongue at first flicked in and out of my mouth and then invaded further, taking my breath away.

I reacted then, pulling away from the kiss.

“Let’s go over to the bed,” he murmured.

“No, please. I should go,” I answered in a breathless voice.

He moved his lips to my throat. His hand didn’t stop gliding and rubbing across my chest–and my nipples–though. We both felt me shudder and heard my soft moan. Neither of us heard me tell him to stop again, or mention leaving, or sensed me pushing him away from feeling up my chest.

He came back to my lips for a kiss, and I was even quicker this time to go soft and to open to his tongue. His right hand went to my basket and he was feeling me up through the material of my trousers. I couldn’t hide that I had gone hard. So much was going through my mind: Raymond telling me to be nice to the new director prospect for the men’s choir; Aaron asking me to do the same. Jason being the new choir director prospect. My need to have a hard man between my legs. Raymond, my mate of twelve years lying on his deathbed. How careful I’d been to show Raymond that I loved him, would be faithful to him as if we were married.

The feel and sound of the zipper of my fly being lowered is what turned the tide, what galvanized me into fighting my submissive nature. I put my hand on his hand at my zipper to signal that he was to go no further, and I pulled away from the kiss and lowered my head so that he didn’t have access.

He kissed me on the head and said, “I’m sorry. I thought it was what you wanted.” Then, gently disengaging me, he rose from the sofa and walked over to the king-sized bed that was in an L space jutting off from the Living room-kitchen combination separated by the breakfast bar.

I didn’t look at him directly, but was very attentive to his actions by the bed. He had taken his empty wine glass, which he put on the nightstand by the bed. He took his wallet out of his pocket and put it on a nightstand as well. Next to come out of his pocket was a soft pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit up the cigarette and stood there, momentarily, looking at me. I ached for how beautiful he was, and upbraided myself for not letting him go further. I should have been flattered. I was a good six years older than he was. He was in great shape. Perfect in every way I could see.

I had once been him–well, younger than he was–when Raymond had picked me out of a Broadway chorus line. And what was six or seven years? Raymond was nearly forty years older than I was.

But I had been faithful to him for twelve years–well, for eight of the twelve years. The last eight years.

Jason unbuttoned and slowly took his shirt off his back and draped it over the back of a straight chair within reach of where he was standing. Was he trying to tease me? If so, he knew the ammunition he had. His chest was magnificently developed. Not overdeveloped. He had a light covering of curly dark hair, but it almost looked like it had been groomed to be sexy as hell. His torso was hard, his pecs bulging, his nipples taut, a ripped six pack, a flat belly. And swirls of dark hair.

He gave me a teasing smile and sat down on the bed, facing me, spread his legs, leaned over and put his elbows on his knees, and puffed on his cigarette. He used the empty wine glass as an ashtray. He sat there, his eyes on me. Challenging me. Seducing me.

“I did want it,” I squeaked quietly. I’d either meant to say it louder or intentionally said it softly enough that he couldn’t hear it but that I could say I admitted it.

“What did you say?” he asked in that rich baritone voice of his. I assumed that he wasn’t just a choir director, but probably was quite a good baritone soloist as well. I wondered if there was anything he didn’t do well, but that made me think of how cut his torso was, of him stroking my chest and rubbing my nipples–and of how delicious and dominating his kisses had been, and I tried to push the images out of my mind.

Not successfully, however.

“I said I did want it . . . that I do want it,” I said more loudly. “It’s just that . . . it’s complicated.”

“Come over here. Sit beside me,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Sex can be quite simple. We tend to tie too much into what is a simple biological need, one that can be satisfied without adding any strings to it or hurting anyone. Let’s talk about this.” The request sounded so reasonable, and I’d drunk more wine than I should have. And I needed the attention he was offering so badly.

“I don’t think so,” I said–but it came out softly again, me knowing he couldn’t hear it. I pulled myself up from the sofa and walked slowly to the bed. He smiled at me and crushed his cigarette out in the wine glass.

When I got there, I stood by the bed. He had to take my hand and coax me to sit beside him.

“You are so tense,” he said. “Twist away from me.” When I did he put his hands on my shoulders and massaged them. He paid some attention to my neck too. He did that long enough that I thought that was going to be it. Mixed feelings of relief and disappointment fought inside me.

He was a master; he waited for the disappointment to push away the relief. I felt his hands come around me and cup my pecs inside my open shirt. He lightly pinched my nipples between his thumb and a finger on each side and rolled them. His chest pressed into my back and he kissed me on the back of the neck. This lasted only for a few seconds, though, before he pulled my unbuttoned shirt off my back and tossed it over to the straight chair where his shirt was draped.

He was rubbing my nipples with his fingers again. “Umm, nice,” he said in a murmur. “You’re in great shape. I love a man who keeps himself up.” I certainly was up. My erection was tenting my trousers. I wondered if he had chosen his words carefully. “I bet you work out regularly.”

“Yes,” I said. What else could I say? Should I have said he was in great shape too, I wondered. Wouldn’t that be the same as saying, “Fuck me”? And although I knew now that’s what I really wanted–and he obviously intended to do–it would be defeat of all I should be saying and doing here to admit it to him out loud.

“Aaron tells me you once were in the Gay Men’s Choir.”

“Yes,” I whispered. His attentions were making me breathless. “So was my partner. We both had to quit when he got sick. He needed attention.” I needed to bring Raymond into this as a defense against his foreplay. I needed to keep Raymond in the room with us.

“We all need attention,” he said, and then returned to his line of approach. “That means you were what, a tenor?”

“A second tenor,” I answered.

He zeroed in on what he really wanted to clear up. “And gay? It’s a gay men’s chorus.”

“Yes.”

“Actively gay?”

“Just with my partner in recent years.”

“But before that?”

“Yes.” Why was I answering his intrusive questions?

“Indiscriminately? Casually? Big men?”

“Yes.” We both knew what he meant by “big” men. I knew then that he was hung and checking out fit. Could I take a big cock? Had I taken big cocks? Did I do–had I done–so casually? How easy was I–had I been any time in the past? I’d have to say “yes” to all of that. Suddenly I ached for the chance to say “yes” to all of that.

“Your partner has been ill for some months?”

“Yes.”

“He was dominant and you are submissive, right?”

“Yes,” I whispered. He kept drilling down toward the question, “Will you lay down and open your legs for me and take my cock?” And I kept responding to his questions.

I both felt and heard the lowering of my zipper this time. I didn’t do anything to stop him this time.

“I find you very attractive,” he said. “I want to fuck you.”

“I have a partner.” Keep Raymond in the room, I thought.

“Aaron tells me you have worn yourself out taking care of your partner. That you needed an evening out. That you need this–that you need me to fuck you. Yes, Aaron told me that there would be someone at the party who I might like being with me tonight. I am highly sexed. I don’t like to sleep alone. He was right. You arouse me. I want to be inside you.” We had reached the key question. He hadn’t quite asked it yet, but it was lingering there in the air.

“I understand that your partner–Raymond–is a big financial backer of the choir and that he wants, if I come to Asheville, for you to be pleased with me–in a sexual way.” Zing! That was an unexpected arrow, and it completely took the excuse of Raymond off the board. But it raised another inhibiting specter.

“So, you are doing this as part of the negotiations of your coming to Asheville?” I asked, a bit heatedly.

“No, I am doing this because I want to make you and your loyalty to your lover is getting between us. I want you to understand that it’s a false barrier. He wants me to fuck you. I want to fuck you. Could I get it up and keep it up as I have if I didn’t want to fuck you? The dick doesn’t lie.”

No, I suppose it doesn’t, I thought. Mine certainly had betrayed my want and need. He had fished my erection out of my trousers and was slow stroking me. I hadn’t stopped him. “I want to make love to you, to fuck you. I need to be with–inside–someone tonight. Lay down for me, open your legs to me, let me fuck you. Don’t think of your Raymond tonight. He doesn’t want you to. I can take care of your needs. I want you to take care of mine.”

There it was, the very question.

I can’t do this to Raymond kept screaming through my mind. Fighting with that was Raymond saying, “We want this new director. Be nice to him this evening.” And Aaron saying, “Be nice to Jason Ward this evening.” Both of them strongly hinting, “Let him fuck you. Give in to your need.” And Aaron saying “be nice to yourself too. You need a break. You need comfort as well.” And the hunk that was Jason Ward kissing my neck and shoulders and stroking my cock–Jason, a god, saying he wanted to fuck me.

With a low moan, I whispered, “Yes.” My voice had been low, but he’d heard me.

“You’ll lay down for me, open your legs to me, and let me fuck you?” Just checking for sure.

“Yes. Do you want to fuck me here on the bed or in the bathroom or on the sofa?”

“Good. Yes, I want to fuck you in all those places, but, for now, here on the bed will be fine,” he said and I heard my belt buckle being undone. “Come up and lie on the bed on your back.”

He used the maneuver of me coming up on the bed to pull my trousers, briefs, shoes, and socks off and drop them to the floor. I just went with it. We were going to do it.

He stretched out beside me, my head pillowed under his right arm and his left hand exploring my naked body as I groaned and moaned for him. I had my legs together, and his hand glided down there, and went between my thighs. I opened them a bit and sighed as he lightly stroked my inner thighs. My cock was standing straight up in throbbing erection.

“Turn your thighs out a bit for me,” he whispered. “Like this.” He placed turn my thigh with his hands to the position he wanted them in, and I let him do it. “Push your groin up. Proudly show your cock.” I did. His hand went there and stroked it. “You have a very nice cock.”

I was going to have a hard, god-like man between my thighs tonight.

“Please, please. I might come,” I pleaded. “It’s been so long since–”

“Your body is so nice. You deserve to be fucked regularly. I’m going to be so good to you. It doesn’t matter if you come now. You can come as many times as you want tonight. I can make you come repeatedly.”

I shuddered.

“Open your legs for me now, please. Yes, spread them. Bend them, feet flat on the bed. Elevate your pelvis more, please. I want to see your hole. I want to open you up for me. I have a big cock.”

I complied, trembling.

“Nice. But it will have to open much more for me. I have a very big shaft.”

His demands, calmly expressed as if they were oh so reasonable requests, were raw, straightforward. They were driving me wild. Spoken in any other tone, they would be crude, earthy. But I was beginning to want that from him. If he suddenly rolled over on top of me and took me swiftly, I would melt to him.

His hands were on my buttocks, spreading them and squeezing them. I gasped as he leaned over and blew on my anus and then gasped again as one of his fingers went to my hole. He rimmed it for several seconds and then penetrated it. I tensed and my sphincter closed down on it, but he massaged that a bit. I moaned, feeling myself turning to Jell-O. I was losing control. I started to lower my legs to expel the finger and roll away from him. No one else had fucked me this way–methodically destroyed all of my defenses before taking me.

“No, no. Keep your legs where they are. Let me in. Relax, don’t fight me. Give it all to me.”

With a groan I returned to the position he’d put me in and he inserted a second finger in me, massaging my sphincter with it as the other finger sank deeper into me. Like gates rolling open, the way opened to him and he pressed deeper in with the second finger. He whispered, “Relax. Let me in. Yes, like that. Continue opening. Let me do whatever I want. Where is it? Yes, there it is.” His matter-of-factness sent me up a notch in arousal.

He’d found my prostate and was lightly rubbing it. I was seeing flashes of light and moaned and I rolled my hips slightly against the probing of his finger. He bent over and took my cock in his mouth. The fingers in my ass were moving, in and out, in and out. Pressing against the wall, teasing the channel to widen. His tongue was flicking at my urethra slit and then was pressing in like he was going to fuck my dick with it. I gasped and then gasped again as his lips slid all the way down the shaft and he was constricting his throat muscles on it.

I shuddered and shot my load in his throat. It didn’t seem to faze him a bit. He slowly pulled his mouth off my cock, did some cleanup work with his tongue, and then raised his lips to mine and we kissed. I was surprised when I found we were sharing some of my cum. Raymond had never done anything like this with me before. I was trembling. I never would have done this with anyone else. I was Jason’s captive, wondering what else I would do with him that I’d never done with any other man.

Apparently, whatever he wanted.

When we came out of the kiss, I apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually come that quickly.”

“Nice,” he said. “Even your cum is sweet. You haven’t had it for a while, have you? But your body is so nice. You have a very nice cock. And you’re tight, but you’ll open fully to me. I’ll make you come for me again . . .” He pulled a moan out of me and smile that he had.

He was so professional about this. I didn’t doubt that I would come for him as often as he wanted me too. I was completely his now. There was no going back–or thinking of doing so. We’d already had sex and he hadn’t even fucked me yet.

I moved to close my legs, but he put his hand on the inner thigh of my left leg and said, “No, stay that way. I’m going to do you in a missionary, and you’re already in position for that.”

I was trembling again. He was so open and straightforward, so matter-of-fact about this–and so, so sexy.

He rolled off the bed and stood up beside it, saying, “Stay there, just like that,” again. I watched him strip off his trousers and briefs and socks. He’d taken his shoes off and left them by the door earlier. He wanted me to see him do that, to undress. His body was magnificent, lightly hirsute, and more than lightly muscled, with a sculpted six pack. His navel was marked by a sunburst tattoo that radiated out from it an inch and a half in all directions. He was hung and fully erect.

I had a short flash of pleasure and pride that I had made him hard.

“Is your partner this big?” he asked, cupping his erect cock. His tone again showed just mild curiosity.

“No, not quite. But he’s big.”

“After I have reamed you to my size, will he notice that a bigger man has been there?”

“We haven’t fucked in months. He has cancer. He’s dying. We won’t fuck ever again.”

“Ah, yes. Now I remember being told that. Sorry. But that will make this special. I will have to fuck you very well, if you are only going to get it every few months, won’t I?”

“Yes,” I answered. I wasn’t going to banter with him about this.

“Luckily, I do fuck well. I think you’ll remember this for a couple of months. If I come to Asheville, we can fuck regularly.”

His right hand went into the slit in his wallet and he came up with a condom packet, which he held up for me to see and then slit it, extracted a disk, rolled the condom on his cock, and smoothed it out–all while I watched and came close to hyperventilating.

He smiled a charming smile for me and said, “You have said yes to so much. Say yes to me now. It would be best if we were absolutely clear. I am going to fuck you, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

He held his erection in his hand and wagged it at me. “I’m going to put this big shaft deep inside you and ride you hard.”

“Yes.” He wasn’t asking just to make it clear. He wanted to heighten my arousal. It was working.

I had my cock in my hand, stroking it and moving my hips. I was rubbing my nipples with my hand. Panting, panting hard now. Now, now. Fuck me now.

“You’re going to have a ball being balled by me.”

“Yes.” The crude language from a young man who had been so refined before we’d come to this hotel room was sending my arousal into the stratosphere. It was as if he knew what the effect would be on me. I was tingling all over. Alive. More alive than I’d been in several months. Now. Now. Fuck me now.

He came back up on the bed below me, crouching below me, grabbing my ankles and raising and spreading my legs. I yelped and began to pant as he rolled my pelvis up and stuck his face in my crack, going for my asshole with his tongue.

I came again within minutes. That appeared to be a signal for him to stop the tease.

He fucked me in the promised missionary position, his knees pressed far under my buttocks, with my thighs running far up his, which raised my pelvis at an acute angle. My legs hung on his waist, my feet not able to touch the surface of the bed, my arms flung out from my sides, with my fingers clawing at the bedspread, while I panted and babbled such intelligent words as “Oh, shit. Fuck! Christ. God, you’re big. You’re enormous.” And later, when he was pumping me hard, pumping me deep, “You’re killing me! Yes, yes, yes! Git it, git it, git it.”

While, forcing himself in me deep and I arched my back and yodeled to the ceiling, he got it and got it and got it. But at first, initially, he held, rock-hard steady, and I moved my passage on the shaft, fucking myself, showing him how needy I was for it.

When he took over, he went in deep, into the inner core of me and held there, throbbing. I was mewing, begging him to pump me, but he held there, throbbing, my passage muscles rippling over his hard shaft. A cock thicker and longer than Raymond’s, I thought, in embarrassment, especially since this man had gotten me to tell that, although Raymond had nothing to be ashamed of in that department. I had a stab of guilt, seeing this as another betrayal of Raymond.

The only negative with Jason was that Raymond didn’t use condoms. I would miss the feel of his warm cum exploding into me. I felt guilty about bringing up Raymond and making comparisons in this position. I needed the friction so badly that, on the first penetration, I had used my core muscles to move on the cock that Jason was holding there, steady. He had laughed, running his hands down my thighs, possessed my cock and stroked it, as I moved my passage on his hard shaft, fucking myself. With Raymond, it had always been him showing his need to fuck me; with Jason, it was me showing my need to be fucked by him.

He slowly, relentlessly, joined me in the fuck, taking ever deeper, ever more rapid strokes, until I collapsed and left the fuck to him. With months of depravation, I had come yet again, with him stroking my cock to the rhythm his cock was stroking my passage, when he came as well. He rolled off me, pulled the spent condom off his cock, and made a perfect throw with it into a waste basket.

“That was nice. You’re an excellent lay. You needed that, I could tell. I needed to get my rocks off too. You heated me up thinking that maybe you wouldn’t take me. Stay right there. Don’t move,” he said. “If this is all you’re getting this month, this will have to be a marathon. I Need another one–another rubber–and I’ll need a couple of minutes before I can fuck you again.”

He went off to the bathroom, and I stayed right in place, on my back. The guilt was still there–and the embarrassment about how open and raw he was about this, and that it turned me on–but we’d fucked once. Now that I was here, if he wanted to fuck again, I’d let myself concentrate on the requests to please him rather than the disloyalty I was showing Raymond. I had thought I could make it to the end with Raymond and feel good about my commitment to him later. The commitment of a much younger theater singer and dancer to an older wealthy man had always been there between us as something that easily could wound and then fester. But I’d done my best–at least for the last eight years after the one blowup and separation–until just now.

But, god Jason could fuck. And he was hung like a bull. Perfect in every way, damn him. He had left the bathroom and breezed by me to the kitchenette. Maybe for more wine. I could still feel his fat cock in me, working me, and I had a stab of disappointment when he walked by the bed. He’d said he’d fuck me again. But he said he’d need some time for recovering before he did. And of course he did. But I ached to have him inside me again.

Thoughts of Raymond, wheezing in his bed and me not being there tonight, assaulted my mind, but I kept pushing them back–reminding myself of Raymond’s permission, of him actually helping set this up. If I was going to two-time him and let myself be fucked, I’d at least lay back and enjoy the fuck.

Jason was back at the side of the bed. He’d gotten another condom packet from the bathroom. Apparently, he traveled with only one in his wallet. He rolled it on and smoothed it out.

“Phase two,” he said. “We’ve been introduced; this is where we ride each other like lovers.”

And ride each other like lovers we did. It was another missionary position, but very different from the first. At his direction, I sat in his lap, facing him, my thighs over his, the two of us in a close embrace. He was inside me, deep. We wrapped our arms around each other, my smooth chest rubbing against his slightly hirsute one, and kissed and cooed to each other. And we rocked against each other, both of us maintaining a motion with our hips and the leverage of our legs, and the swaying of our torsos with each other, causing his cock to slide in and out, deep.

“Go with me, baby. Yes, just like that,” he cooed.

We became one perfect, synchronized fucking machine.

We moved faster and faster against each other, urging each other on, telling each other what a good fuck we were getting. I came first and just lay, arched back, in his embrace, my arms dangling at my side as he moved inside me, against me, kissing and licking my sternum and belly, and, eventually, tensed and jerked, one, two, three times, and I knew he was filling the bulb of his condom. The slight regret reared up in me and then melted away that we weren’t barebacking, that I didn’t feel his warm cum inside me.

“That was good,” he whispered. “It would have been nicer if I wasn’t sheathed, though. If we were permanent lovers and could fuck raw. I would love to fuck you raw. Maybe if I take the Asheville chorus job–”

My thoughts exactly. The specter of Raymond floated across my mind. But reality told me that, if Jason took the Asheville job, Raymond more likely than not be no longer be in the picture. I hadn’t pictured anything after Raymond. Now I could be bold enough to do so–with Raymond’s encouragement. I realized how much Raymond was in this fuck. He was signaling for me to get past total reliance on him and moving on in life.

“Yes, yes. Take the Asheville job. Come back to me–come inside me, raw, fully possessing,” I murmured. If he had stripped off the condom now and mounted and penetrated me, I would have willingly taken him bareback.

“Let me see it,” he said, gently pushing me on my back and folding my legs up into my chest and rolling my pelvis up. He dabbed at the rim of my hole with his finger. “Yes, nice open now. Maybe we can get a little rough now.”

I sucked in air and flinched. He patted my buttocks, laughed, and said, “Just kidding.”

But I couldn’t tell how much he’d been kidding. He moved up to where he was stretched along my body again, pulled me to him with his right arm around my shoulders, looked down into my eyes, and then he took my lips with his again. The kiss became prolonged, intense, rough, almost brutal. When he released my mouth, he whispered, “Have you ever had it rough?”

“Not in the last twelve years–well the last eight years. My partner wasn’t rough.”

“You have been with your partner how long?”

“Twelve years.”

“The first four years he fucked you rough? Slapped you around? Bound you?”

“No, not him. I wasn’t always faithful to him at the beginning–only later, the last twelve years.” I wanted to cry. Was Jason going to pull everything out of me? All of my secrets? Was he going dissect my relationship with Raymond? Was I going to let me, give him anything he wanted–pull every private secret out of me? Bareback me, if he want to even? I realized that I wanted him to bareback me.

“So, there were men who were rough with you before you went solely with your partner?”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy being fucked rough by them.”

I hesitated, but then I confessed. “Yes, sometimes.”

“Have you thought that maybe you went with them in those years when you were first with your partner because he wouldn’t fuck you rough, fuck you totally, and you needed that sometimes?”

I wouldn’t answer that.

“Think about it,” Jason said. Then he laughed and rolled away from me and off the bed. He left me, with the indication that that was the sex for a while, although I felt a flash of arousal when he said, “Can you stay the night? I like to sleep with the men I’ve enjoyed fucking.”

He had seemed so professional at this that I couldn’t tell if he really was enjoying it as much as I was. And I didn’t want to take the risk of asking. I just reveled in each time he’d said something was nice or good.

I assented to staying most of the night, mentally checking what time Raymond’s night nurse went off duty. Jason accepted that without argument and went to the bathroom to take a shower. “There’s a Falcon’s game on TV, I think,” he said as he padded off. “Something to do before bedtime.”

“I thought–” I started to say.

He laughed. “I can fuck you on the sofa while the game is going if we get randy again that soon.” The TV was over the fireplace facing the sofa and Jason had come from Atlanta to check out the choir opening in Asheville.

“I’m already randy again,” I whispered.

“Of course you are,” he answered, full of confidence and knowing he was in control. “See how easy it is now that we’ve done it?” He already was in the bathroom and turning on the shower.

I gingerly sat up on the side of the bed. I was a bit sore, but gloriously so. It had been several months since I’d had a cock inside me. Raymond was big–one of the reasons I’d gone with him in the first place. In those days, a man’s cock size was more important to me than his bank account. Raymond was blessed in both regards, though. But Jason was appreciably thicker and longer. And he certainly knew how to use it. He could be a pro.

He also knew how to tease and seduce.

I went to stand up but was a bit wobbly. I reached my hand out for support and accidentally brushed Jason’s wallet off the top of the nightstand. The wine glass he’d made into an ashtray would have gone too, but I instinctively chose that to grab for and save rather than the soft-sided wallet.

Bills and pieces of paper and business cards and all slipped out of the wallet as it fell to the carpet. No condom packet, though. I couldn’t help but looking at the stuff as I was putting it back in the wallet. A sudden flash of anger went through me, but then I was struck with understanding. My eyes teared up, but then I shook my head and gave a sigh and a little laugh.

When he came out of the bathroom, a towel tied around his waist, Jason smiled, jerked the towel open, flashed me a shot of his erection, showed me that he was carrying another condom packet, and said, “For later.”

“No, for now,” I said. “Come here and lay on the bed. We made love to each other last time. You gave me what I needed. I make love to you now.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave me a lopsided smile, but he dropped the towel and came over to the bed. He stood there for nearly a minute, in front of me, while I handed his cock and rubbed it on my cheeks and teethed the sides of it. I know he wanted to put it in my mouth, but I teased him with it momentarily.

Than I did make love to him, for the first time without reservation or guilt. I made him sit at the foot of the bed and I knelt before him and gave him a blow job, holding him down with a palm on his belly and my fingers tracing the rays of the sun emanating from his navel. I laced the fingers of my other hand through his balls and squeezed and rolled and distended them as I suck his cock. He rewarded me with low moaning. The balance of control was shifting a bit. I meant for it.

“Do you bust your partner’s balls like this?” he croaked.

“No. I never have. This is special, just for you,” I said, momentarily taking my mouth off his cock, but only momentarily.

He groaned but he didn’t beg me to stop. “You’re going to make me cum a bucket load,” he said, in a weak voice.

“Yes,” I answered.

He could have risen, of course, but he respected the demand of my hand not to let him get up until he’d come in my throat. As he had done with me, I then climbed up the bed to him and shared his cum with him in a kiss.

I had him move up the bed on his back and I covered his body in kisses until he was hard again.

“Do you want to bareback me?” I whispered. “I’ve had only the one partner for years and we have had no trouble. It’s all up to you and how often and when you’ve–”

“We’d better not,” he said.

“You have fucked–”

“I fuck men all the time. Better we use a rubber, but thanks for the offer.”

Of course I knew he fucked a lot of men. He was too good at it and to be doing it regularly. I knew what his answer had to be–and I don’t know what I would have done if he’d said yes. But I wanted him to know that I was committing to him fully, if only for this fuck.

I crowned him with the third condom, and I straddled his pelvis, facing his head, screwed my passage down on his cock, and rode him and rode him and rode him, arching back, with my fists buried in the mattress at his ankles and bouncing on his cock in long slides just like a male whore working a sugar daddy. I was giving him the best ride in town.

When he’d come again, I just lowered myself on top of him and we dozed off. He wouldn’t find out the score of the Falcons game until the next day, and I’d never bother to check up on it.

I woke up at 5:00 a.m., stretched out beside him. He was snoring lightly, still in a very pleasant baritone. I got the clutchy feeling that Raymond was in bed with me because he snored in the same pitch. I quietly got out of bed, dressed, and left the hotel suite. The Residence Inn was only four blocks from Raymond and my apartment, so I walked it. It helped to clear my head and to think about what had happened and why–and where to go from here.

* * * *

I let myself into our apartment and went to the separate bedroom I’d started using at the beginning of Raymond’s sickness, when it was really bad with him. It was a large apartment. We had plenty of bedrooms. There would be too many empty ones when he was gone. The last couple of weeks, he was doped up enough that he wasn’t restless. I lay with him during the days now sometimes when there was no nurse on duty. Sometimes I told them they weren’t needed, but Raymond could afford to have them around the clock and to have everything he needed here in the apartment so he’d never have to go to the hospital again.

We were close to the end. He kept saying we were both close to a new beginning, but, until tonight, I hadn’t understood what he meant or been prepared to accept it. I had thought I would just give up sex after he was gone. But after the night with Jason, I knew I wasn’t going to do that.

After I took a shower, I changed into a pair of pajamas and went into his room.

“How has he been, Chester?” I asked the night nurse.

“He was restless earlier. He’s at peace now. I gave him what the doctor said he could have. He’s been murmuring your name, sir.”

“I’m here now. Thanks. You can go a little early this morning. I’ll sit with him.”

“The doctor, he said that you needed–”

“I’m just fine. I’ve got exactly what I needed yesterday. Everyone was right. I just needed an evening out. I want to sit with him.”

The night nurse left, but I didn’t sit with Raymond. I stripped off the pajamas, which had been for the night nurse’s benefit, slipped under the covers, cuddled close in beside Raymond, and gently enveloped his cock in my hand. I thought he remained asleep, but he hardened up, moved his hips in the rhythm of my slow stroking, had a beatific smile on his face, and came for me.

Afterward, I saw his eyelids flutter, and he whispered, “Thank you, baby,” before he went back to sleep. I snuggled closer to him and tried not to cry. I dozed off in exhaustion myself. There had been a sneak attack in the night, a driving doggie fuck that had been rough, including slaps, hard taking, twisted arms, and pulled hair. It had had me strutting on the clouds. Yes, there was a time and there were men who had fucked me rough, and I had loved it. Each way Jason had taken me had reminded me that I was alive and wanted to be alive–and wanted to continue to be fucked.

* * * *

I was at the breakfast bar, eating breakfast, when Aaron called me on my cellphone.

“I hope you had a pleasant evening out, Derek,” he said. There was something in his voice that was tentative and questioning. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the concert and the party. I think it’s what you needed–an evening out.”

“Yes, I had a ball, Aaron. And I got balled. Four glorious times. The fourth time a sneak-attack doggie in the middle of the night. I really got laid out that time.” I kept an “amused” tone to my voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Jason Ward isn’t a Gay Men’s Chorus director candidate from Atlanta at all, is he? He’s a male prostitute and is from right here in Asheville. I accidentally saw his escort service and stripper services business cards last night. Don’t blame him. It was an accident and he doesn’t know I saw them.”

I heard the intake of breath on the other end. “Listen, Derek. It’s not what you think. Well, it is what you think, but there’s–”

“It’s OK, Aaron. It is what I needed to hold on for the next couple of weeks–and to be prepared to look to the future. I’ll feel guilty about it forever, of course. But I know your intentions were–”

“They weren’t my intentions, Derek. They were Raymond’s. He wanted this. He asked me to help get you laid–and laid good. He’s worried about you. He wants to know, Derek. He wants to know before he’s gone that you’ll let someone take care of your needs when he’s gone. Raymond paid for the male hooker. He told me to get the best–not only one who was hung–he was very insistent that the man should be young, muscular, handsome, and hung–but one who could seduce a stone statue. He said he wanted to hear you purring in the morning.”

I let that sink in. “Umm, I don’t know what to say, Aaron.”

“Well, don’t say anything to Raymond. He wants nothing said in the open about it. He says you’ve always been self-conscious by the differences in your ages and that he was keeping you. But he said he couldn’t have lived this long without you. He didn’t think you should ever know what he did concerning this hooker. I didn’t agree, though. I thought you should know so you wouldn’t feel guilty about it. And now you do. But Raymond doesn’t need to know.”

“Well, OK, I guess.”

“So, was he good?”

“Yes, he was very good indeed.”

“You said . . . four times.”

“Yep. Are you jealous?”

“A bit, yes. But, while we’re talking, two things, Derek. First, Raymond has paid the escort agency for three more sessions. Fee nonrefundable. He wants me to figure out a way to get you laid periodically until the end, and confidentially, since I’m his lawyer, his will leaving you most of his money specifies that he wants you to spend some of what you get from the estate by bringing a young guy with a big gear shift for you to ride and a problem of needing it once a day into your life and bed the week after he’s gone. Those were his words.”

I laughed. “Before last night I would have said no way. Right now, though, it’s not an idea you need to sell me. You said two things.”

“Yeah. Jason Ward has already called in to report on the evening. He said you were great. He’s aware you have credit with the escort agency and wanted to be sure I knew he wanted to throw his cock in the ring for more servicing of you.”

“OK, thanks, Aaron,” I said. “I understand. Thanks for looking after me. I gotta go now.”

I disconnected the call and dialed the nursing service. I told them they could cancel the dayshift nurse today, but send one as normal for tonight. Today, I wanted to pamper my man tonight. Tonight, I had other plans.

Then I went looking for my wallet and pulled out the escort service business card I’d swiped when I was putting stuff back in Jason’s wallet. I picked up the cellphone again. I hoped Jason wasn’t booked for tonight already. I had a sudden hankering for another evening out–one not clouded by a feeling of guilt.

I went in to Raymond after I’d made arrangements–and satisfactory arrangements there were. Jason could get the Residence Inn suite for another night. Raymond was waking up, or close to it as the pain killers were going to permit. He looked at me and smiled and I gave him a smile back. I knew that for the last few weeks I’d only been able to manage a look of concern, which concerned him as well. Today I could manage a genuine smile.

“I thought I’d spend the day with you,” I said. I’d taken over running his businesses months earlier. But he had good people on the payroll. I could take a day or two off. We’d always planned for me to take more time off near the end.

“How are you doing this morning, Derek?” he asked. I knew his question had more concern behind it than he was letting on.

“I’m purring, Ray; I’m purring.”

His answering smile was radiant. He closed his eyes. I waited until his breathing was as regular as it was going to get and I thought he was asleep. I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you for the purring, Daddy.”

His eyes fluttered. He smiled, slid a gnarled hand along the sheet, and squeezed my hand.

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It was early morning, and Tim walked into Scott’s room having been summoned by text. Scott was there in his underarmour shirt and bulging jockstrap, arms akimbo, admiring the trophy he won from his recent bodybuilding show. He had come first. It made Tim so happy to see just how much it meant to Scott. Now that he was off-season, he was eating like a horse and lifting more weights than ever. He even got Tim to help him mix his raw steroid powders and pin him, and Tim suspected it wouldn’t be too long before Scott put Tim on his own cycle. Tim just leaned against the doorframe, taking in Scott and his bulging muscles.

The bodybuilder looked over at the young student. “What’s goin’ on baby bro?” Scott’s seductive voice and beguiling smile caused Tim’s cock to jump in his cage.

“Heh, just enjoying the view,” Tim said with a smile.

“Yeah? Like this?” Scott broke into a double bicep pose and laughed when Tim sighed at the sight of him flexing. “Now bro, you know this show ain’t free,” he said with a cocky grin. He strutted over to his couch and flopped down, spreading his legs wide. “Get over here.”
“Hmm, well Mr. Sub Zero, maybe I will and maybe I won’t,” Tim said, smiling as he did so.
Scott smirked. He knew exactly what would get Tim in the mood to obey. “Hey bro, smell this for me.” He threw a nearby t-shirt at Tim, who caught it and sniffed it. He had exercised in it – it smelled overpoweringly of Scott’s musk. “How’s it smell, Tim?”
Tim took another long, deep sniff. “It smells good…”
“Heh, did it make that nub of yours jump in its cage?”
“Yeah, it did…”
Scott roared with laughter. “Ha ha ha, oh bro, prankin’ you is too easy. Well I think we can get that little guy squirming in his cage even more, don’t you? Check this out.”
With that, Scott jumped up and peeled off his underarmour vest, giving Tim a muscular posedown. Tim’s eyes were glued to Scott’s pumped muscles, helpless to look away.
He stepped out of the stained jock and picked it up, then walked over and placed it on Tim’s head. He made sure that the cup of the jock was right on Tim’s nose, so he got the full hit of Scott’s funky musk.
“Breath in now…that’s it. How you feel? You gonna listen to your big bro now?”
Tim sighed into the musky jock. “Yes Sir…”
Scott’s grin grew wider and he sauntered back to the chair. “Then get your faggot ass over here and kneel in front of your Alpha.”
Tim immediately obeyed the bodybuilder. He threw the jock into a pile of laundry that he would take care of later, and knelt down in front of the bodybuilder, awaiting further instruction. Scott lazily fondled his ample balls. “Ain’t showered in a couple days, so I’m real rank down there. But you like that, don’t you…you like the funk of a real man… How do my balls smell, bitch?
Tim leaned in and took a long smell. “Hmm… They smell amazing Sir.”
“Ball sniffin’ queer. I know you love it. Say it for me, bitch. Tell me how much you love my balls.”

“Oh god Scott, I love them, they’re just awesome, I think about them all the time, and your amazing cock too.”
“Heh heh, can’t get enough can you, you little cockslut…Yeah, that’s right. In awe of the real man above you. Climb on up here pussy, gonna fill you up.”
Tim took one final whiff of Scott’s balls, then climbed up into his lap. Scott reached over and grabbed a bottle of lube, squirting it onto his cock. “Go ahead, sit down on this dick, you know you want it.”
Tim moaned softly as he lowered himself on Scott’s thick cock. While it didn’t quite have the massive dimensions of Greg, it sure hit the spot. “Fuck me that’s good,” Tim whispered under his breath.
“Heh heh, fags are so funny sometimes. You live for this now, don’cha? You’d do anything for a taste. Putting that cock cage on your little thing was a stroke of genius. How does it make you feel, eh?”
“Horny,” Tim whimpered. “It makes me horny all the time, I can’t cum with it on and I want to so badly.”

“That means you need my cock to feel good, don’t it…” With that, Scott lifted the student off him. “Well maybe you get it and maybe you don’t…”

“No! Please Scott, I need it, c’mon!”
“You never say no to me again, you keep this tight little hole open and ready for action any time I want it, right little Timmy?!”

“Yes Sir…”
With that, Scott dropped Tim back on his cock and started to thrust up and down. He worked up into a fast rhythm, banging up into the helpless student. Tim was helpless, all he could do was whimper softly.
“This is the life, showing you what a fag you are, hearing you beg for my meat. Your tiny little clitcage bouncing up and down. I wonder how many of your little nubs it would take to make even half of what I’m packin’. How many do you think, Timmy?”
“Dozens, Sir..”
“Heh heh, that’s right bitch. Must be real humiliating for a faggot bein’ made to compare it’s cock to a real man. Shows you why I’m the man and you’re the pussy.”
“Uh, yes Sir!”
Scott kept up fucking Tim, gradually getting faster and faster. Tim could tell how much Scott loved it. “Fuck… This hole is just perfect for superior men to fuck. This is fuckin’ awesome. Bet you’re in heaven too, right fag? Feel how I’m filling up that sloppy hole? Don’t it feel good? Ain’t your hole the place where a cock belongs? Yeah, bet you feel great right now fag, and it’s all cos of me and my cock, meanwhile that little clit wiggles ’round, ignored just like it should be…”
As Scott increased the pace, Tim could only moan.
“You like it when I call it a clit? You like when I call your hole a pussy? That’s cuz you’re a pussyboy. Ain’t that right? I mean, you’re being fucked ten ways from Sunday right now. And what does a cock fuck, Tim?”
“It… fucks a pussy, Sir…”
“Then what is it Tim? What am I fuckin’ right now?”
“A…a pussy, Sir.”
“Who owns that pussy?”
“You own it! It’s Your pussy Sir!”
“Damn straight! Gonna fill this pussy with fuckslop till it overflows, Uh, yeah…”
Tim was out of breath, straining to take the hard fucking Scott was giving him. All he could do was look at Scott’s pumped muscles while he was fucked, and listen to the dominant male.
“Yeah, that’s it, take it you little fag, do what you were born to do, squeeze my cock with your pussy”.

Tim tried his best to obey and squeezed around the invader. Scott was fucking him faster and faster, completely lost in the pleasure, making animalistic grunts as he did so. They couldn’t last long. Scott roared as his orgasm hit, thick cum pouring into Tim. The smaller guy tried his best to clench as Scott pumped him, making him cum extra hard.
After getting his breath back after a delirious orgasm, he pulled his cock out of Tim with a pop. He grabbed the nearby butt-plug he had put on standby, sliding it inside. “There we are…can you feel my seed being absorbed into your body? Can you feel that life-making juice giving you your purpose in life? That’s right, I own you down to the DNA…”

With that, he lifted Tim to the bed, spooning him close while he took a short nap.
________________

“Hey – hey Scott, I gotta go to work now,” Tim said, sitting up in the bed. Scott sat up too.
“Sure thing bro… Hey Tim, you doin’ ok?”
“Sure am Scott. Heh, a bit sore but I’m happy.”
“Good, good… Um, I hope I wasn’t too rough on you. I, uh – I want you to know I care about you, and I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want you to think I really meant all that stuff…”
“Naa, that’s cool Scott. I enjoy it too. You just get really into it, is all!”
“Good. I’m really glad you feel that way. I see Pa and James treat you so nice even while they fuck you, but when I do it it’s like a beast inside me gets loose, know what I mean? Maybe I’m a bit sadistic or something. I do love pushing my clients around. Almost miss having the lazy ones, could make those ones squirm and sweat, lemme tell ya…” Scott looked up at Tim with sad doleful eyes. “Say bro…does that make me a bad person?”
“Oh Scott.” Tim put his arm around the bodybuilder. “You’re not a bad person at all, you’re a great guy. Remember when I asked you about the gay dudes in your past, and you told me you defended that gay kid being bullied in high school? Maybe it’s not my place to say, but Greg was actually a bully in highschool. It was the 90’s, things were different. He changed and became a better person, but you were that better person at the same age. Just ‘cos you like to fuck me rough and talk dirty during sex doesn’t mean you want to see me hurt. And you’ve made every one of your clients better and healthier people. You like a power trip, but you’re not a sadist. You don’t want to cause them pain. You’re a good person.”
Scott smiled. Tim hugged him and got up.
“Anyway, gotta get to work, We still haven’t hired a new admin guy to keep track of all the new crews, it’s a fucking mess. I almost regret making Greg give me the job.”

“…wait, what?”
“Um, nothing. I mean, Greg made *me* do the job.”
Scott grunted. “Huh. Thought so.”
“See you later man, and hey – be gentle with yourself, I think you’re a really great guy. I couldn’t ask for a better bro.”
________________

As Tim walked out of Scott’s bedroom he saw James in his own.
“Oh hey James – you up for some ghost recon or battlegrounds later?”

“Can’t bro! Gotta go meet Michelle!”
“Ah ok, well have a great time!”
“Will do bro – but before I go, c’mere. I got you somethin’!”
As Tim walked over to the athletic James, he was surprised with a condom filled with jizz. “Heh, my way of sayin’ thanks for being my awesome lil’ bro. Fresh from the source. Heard you two next door, got me hot. Gotta say, now that I’m with Michelle, I really miss that mouth of yours on my cock. You were right to say I can’t cheat on her by getting a blowjob from you – but I want to jizz into a condom and have you eat it. Heh… Wanna keep you full of protein, ha ha! So, eh…do you want my jizz?
It was a slight shock for Tim – he hadn’t ordered James to do this. “Well, heh… Yeah, I kinda do. Is that ok? Does that make me a total weirdo?”

“Naa – I want you to do it, I like knowing my men are inside you. You like that idea too?”

Tim’s face got red. “Yeah…”
“Then drink up little bro!”
Tim held up the condom and inspected the contents. “Fuck, you make so much jizz…”
James just chuckled. “Ha ha, yup! These balls always made me tons of it.”
Tim proceeded to tip the contents of the condom into his mouth. He savored it for a moment before he gulped it all down.
James smiled widely. “There we go! Now you got some more of my men inside ya. Do you like it?”
Tim nodded. “Yeah, I love it. I wish I could drink a gallon of it… Thank you, James.”
James ruffled Tim’s hair. “Ha ha, my pervy little brother. Love you dude. Don’t wait up!”

________________

As Tim got into his construction trailer he used as an office, he hoped that his fellow administrator would be out. He didn’t like him a lot, and he was afraid he’d smell the cum on his breath. No such luck – he was immediately accosted by the guy he worked with.
“Hey Tim, there’s a problem with the chain gang, their parole officer wants a meeting with the guy who hired them and technically that was you. You’re gonna have a long day ahead of you I’m afraid!”
Tim scowled. “It’s ok man, don’t worry about it. I’m picking them up and bringing them home, I’ll talk to the parole guy then. Oh, and ‘chain gang’? You should really get out of the habit of calling them that.”
“Heh, right?! You seen them beasts Tim? I think they could take Greg on even…”
The ‘chain gang’ were 4 ex-cons that Tim hired straight out of prison. People were totally against it at first, some went straight to Greg begging him not to let four criminals loose among them. Greg held fast, and their skepticism became surprise at how the 4 men turned things around so quickly. Tim was there to help them every step of the way. With a steady job and a house rented by the company for them, it was looking good for them. Tim felt he was using the talisman for good again, which alleviated some of his guilt at being selfish with it.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that Tim found the men attractive. They all happened to be his type. Even compared to the muscular men working for Greg, they still caught his eye whenever he saw them.
After a day of paperwork (and using mouthwash), he drove towards the worksite and waited to bring them home.
________________

The first one to the car was Kung Lee. He was an American born South Asian who had studied Muay Thai since he was a young kid. Years of practicing his martial art left him with strong sinewy muscles. He was shredded and veiny.
Tim smiled as he got into the passenger side. “Hey Kung! How are you doing?”
“Doing good Tim, doing good! Hard day’s work, feel pumped.”
Tim liked how Kung always put a positive spin on whatever life threw at him. A wrongful imprisonment of 2 years was given to Kung because he took the fall for his brother. He said he was happy to do it, saving his brother’s life and getting 2 years to read and practice martial arts. He even helped other prisoners become better men when he could.
“I really admire your outlook on life, Kung. I gotta tell you, I phoned in the last 2 hours of paperwork in the office. How do you do it?”
“Dunno Tim! You just gotta be positive! Think of all the good in your life.”
Tim smiled. “Well I’m glad you’re in my life Kung.”
The martial artist fist-pumped. “Whoo! See buddy? That’s the spirit! And hey, I feel the same way.”
A knuckle rapped against the window brought Tim’s attention to his second passenger. “Oh hey Kruger!”

The scowl of the tattooed skinhead remained. “Out. I’m driving.”

Tim sighed. He did this every time. Kruger insisted that he be the person to drive them around. The other guys seemed fine with it, and Kruger was a very intimidating man. Kung didn’t make a sound, so Tim always had to sit in the back sandwiched between 2 other men after a long day of physical work.
…maybe I don’t mind *that* much, Tim thought.
Kruger had been pegged as the most problematic man in the new crew. While he didn’t have an actual swastika, the extensive white power tattoos on his bulging muscles left no question as to the skinhead’s past. While a shirt would cover his sleeves and inked chest, it wouldn’t cover the tattoos on his neck or hands, or the extensive ink on his shaved skull.
Tim was surprised to find out during their sessions that he didn’t have much hate or racism, or homophobia either – he just kept in with a crowd since he was a young teen, and learned the real side to them in prison. While the mental issues were ‘fixed’ by Tim, the bigger challenge was to remove the man’s physical aggression; he had been locked away for assault, with the cops finding thousands of dollars of steroids in his apartment.
The steroids made sense; once he saw Kruger chugging down a bottle of water, and Tim couldn’t help but stare at his pecs. They were enormous, he could see the striations of muscle in them. His skin had that pale, working-class pallor to it. Tim wondered how that was possible with him now working in the sun, until one day he saw him slathering factor 50 sun cream all over himself.  Tim made a mental note to use the talisman so he could help the roided skinhead with his sun cream in the future.
As the student got out of the car handing the keys to the rough skinhead, he saw the packet of smokes rolled up in the sleeve of his tight t-shirt. “You know Kruger, I have this thing where I get really jealous of fit guys who smoke. How can you be so fit and muscley, and still smoke? It’s not fair.”
Kruger laughed a deep baritone laugh. “Actually little man, I quit yesterday. It’s a filthy habit, don’t need it no more. Gonna give this pack to the foreman when I see him.”
Tim smiled. He had used the talisman to get Kruger to quit. “Well that’s fantastic man. Right, Kung?”
“Hell yeah it is! Proud of you, you bald bastard!”
Kruger grunted. “Where the hell are those 2 guys… Jon was right behind me.” They had to wait a few more minutes for the next guy to show.
Jontray Williams, whom everyone just called Jon, was a muscular black man in his early 30’s. Tim joked that he should watch Luke Cage because he thought they were so alike, from the muscles down to the voice and beard.

He squeezed himself in the passenger side beside Tim; the car wasn’t the biggest and space was at a premium.

“Sorry for takin’ up so much room kid. Hope you ain’t too cramped.”
“No problem Jon, hope you aren’t cramped either!”
The large man smiled. “No son, I’m fine.”
Jon pushed his meaty thigh against Tim and held it there, putting his arms behind his head. Tim caught the scent of his armpit and grinned. Such a small command given by the talisman, something so unobtrusive and low-profile like being comfortable around the student physically, and Tim was in heaven.
“So Jon, I have this interview with the parole guy later. Before I forget can I ask you something? How old are your twin boys again?”
Jon’s smile faltered and he got a faraway look in his eyes. “They’re both 15 now.”
Tim felt bad. “Sorry Jon, didn’t mean to bring you down or anything. I just had forms to fill in…”
Jon smiled again. “No problem. You’re a good kid. Thanks so much for helpin’ me out.”
“I’m happy to Jon, I’ll do anything I can for you. You got a bigger share of bad luck than you should have, that’s all.”
“Heh, don’t know about that. We make our own destiny. Ten years in the service, it was all I knew. So when I got out, I felt lost. Got into…some trouble. Real life is harder than a combat deployment. You get used to the brotherhood, you have a purpose. You don’t worry about bills or the grocery store. I missed my kids but I knew they were cared for.
“I had them when I was 17. Way too young to know what to do. Figured enlisting would give them a chance but I was just running away. I always wanted to be a Marine anyway. I got what I wanted and she got landed with twin boys to take care of alone. No wonder she left me.

“Come back home and you are thrown for a loop. People say they support you but don’t always follow up like your buddies down range did. Real life smacks you in the face and it can be tough to handle.”
He turned to Tim. “But hey – that’s all behind me now. All I want to do is be there for them again. If I can’t help them through even a small part of their teens, I’m no use to anyone. “
Tim’s heart went out to him. “Well Jon, all I can say is that I’ll do anything I can to help you out. That’s a promise.”
They both shared a smile. “Thanks kid.”
Finally the last passenger arrived. Ramón Alvarez was a gregarious Mexican who was perfectly suited to the hard physical labor of his new job. He was tall and massively muscular, and would have been as intimidating as Kruger were it not for his almost permanent smile.
 “Oi muchachos!” He waved to the car with the 4 men and jogged over. TIm watched him the whole way – he was shirtless and his meaty pecs almost bounced up and down. He got to the car and opened the driver-side door where Tim was and smiled broadly at the young student.
“Hola, hermanito!
He grabbed Tim in a tight headlock and forced his way into the vehicle, pushing him into the middle. Slightly dazed, Tim could only struggle as the much stronger man easily kept him in the helpless position. Even though he was sweaty from the day’s labor, the student wasn’t about to slip from his grip. Tim almost regretted giving the 4 men commands to be more physical with him – Ramón was clearly already a physical man.
“Ah, how are you today man?”
Kruger scowled at their antics from the driver seat. “Settle down you moron, put on your goddamn belt. I’m not gonna get pulled over ‘cos of you.”
“No amigo, he gotta say Uncle before I let him go! And he’s gotta say it in Spanish too, jajaja…”
It took Tim a moment struggled to remember the word that Ramón had taught him the day before. “Tío! Tío, por favor!
The Mexican laughed and let go of Tim, and smiled as he put on his seatbelt. “Good memory hermanito. One word a day, you’ll be speaking Spanish in no time.”
Tim put on his belt too. “I don’t remember wanting to learn Spanish, but I appreciate it I guess!”
Ramón put his thick arm around Tim. “Hey hermanito, hope you’re ok with my shenanigans, eh? Hope I’m not too physical with you, ok my little buddy?”
Tim smiled at Ramón. “Naa man, not at all. You got a physical job, so it suits you I think! And hey, people are too uptight anyway. You can be as physical as you like, man.”
The muscular Mexican laughed. “It does suit me I think! From a kid, I always wanted to be a luchador, a professional wrestler. That’s what my dream was since I was so young. The luchadores and wrestlers on the tv, they were my heroes man. I trained so much as a teen, lifted every weight I saw, loved every moment.”
His face darkened, and he looked down at the floor. “But I must say goodbye to this dream. Guess I really messed things up by going to prison, eh ese…”
“But hey, things are looking up for you now, right?
“Si, si, I suppose…”
His brown, doleful eyes were heartbreaking to look at. He looks like a kicked puppy, Tim thought.
“Well man, I know a wrestling agent and he owes me a favor, I’ll ask him to have a meeting with my best buddy Ramón! He might get you a few wrestling matches with the state wrestling federation.”
Ramón’s face lit up. “You serious hefe? You really mean this?
“Sure man! I’ll set up a meeting and we’ll see what happens. Heh, you sure as hell look like a wrestler from tv, he’ll be happy to have a talk with you!”
Ramón grabbed Tim and hugged him tight, seemingly ecstatic that he might get a shot at a career in wrestling.
“This is a dream come true for me! Thank you my hermanito!”
Tim struggled to breath in the vice grip of the Mexican. Where the hell will I find a wrestling agent, he thought. Maybe someone at Scott’s gym. He almost regretted telling the lie, but the look on the Mexican’s face compared to a moment ago was like night and day. He’d find someone somewhere, just needed a little time. And it would be worth it to make the burly Mexican happy.
________________

“Home sweet home muchachos!”
They pulled up to the small house and went inside. They were in a middle-class neighborhood and very close to Greg’s own place, but this house looked like it didn’t belong. It was small, old and run-down, the inside much the same. It was surrounded by trees giving it a spooky edge. The rent was all Tim could afford to cream off the business without getting noticed. This place is such a dump, Tim thought. The living room was brown and aged, with an old crt television in the corner. “How are things going with the house anyway guys? Do you guys need any more furniture? I’m really sorry I couldn’t find a better place for you…”
Kruger clapped Tim on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it little man. It’s got what we need. Might not look pretty but it’s all there. The best thing is the yard. It’s nice and big, with the trees around it’s private too. It’s actually pretty good, we do a lot of training there.”
“Oh yeah? What do you guys train in?
“A few things, we take turns. Jon does boxing, he’s good. He got some boxing gear and a punching bag from his cousin, we use it a lot.”
“I hear boxing is really hard.”
“It is, that guy is strong. The rest is easy compared to boxing with Jon.”
“I bet!”
“I do BJJ these days, Ramón does it with me. He likes it because he’s more into wrestling and they’re not too different with all the grappling. We swap when he gets in the mood for actual wrestling. And Kung’s favorite is Muay Thai, done it all his life. But he does the rest too, that dude is pretty fit. Heh, they all are I guess.
“So are you Kruger!
“Heh, thanks little man… You should join us for a bit, you’d learn something. It’s a man’s duty to defend himself and others.”
Even when he’s being friendly, he’s so intense, TIm thought. “Heh, I’d just be in the way… Anyway, It’s almost time for the parole guy, is it ok if I could have the living room for the meeting?”
“Sure… You want us to clear out?”
“Yeah, if that’s ok – it’ll just go quicker. I just need to go over some forms is all. If you guys are there he’ll just keep asking questions.”
Kruger grunted. “Fair enough. We’ll be out back.”
________________

The parole officer was in his 40’s, with a grey, timorous face. Tim didn’t know if he was out to punish the men or was just jaded from his job. Not that it mattered, as he was about to make sure he didn’t bother his new friends again.

“So where are they?”
Tim smiled. “Don’t worry about that.” He put his hands around the talisman and focused on the bureaucrat. “So Mr. Bailey, this is a magic talisman that I control people’s minds with. I used it on you before but told you not to remember. Needed to know more about how the system worked.”
His eyes went blank as he nodded. “Yes.”
“I want these men to stay free and not be hassled by law enforcement or government. I used the talisman on them so you know they won’t commit any more crimes and won’t give you any trouble. You know in your heart they are good men and you secretly want to help them out. Don’t act differently around your colleagues if they come up. Use your best judgement to keep them free and safe. Do you understand?”
The parole officer nodded. “Yes…”
Tim smiled. “How do you think you’ll go about this? How will you make sure they aren’t hassled and go on to lead good, happy lives?
“I’ll fill out their forms and make sure I retain ownership of their cases. As long as they fulfill all their conditions of probation and don’t commit any infractions, they won’t have to deal with the system.”
Tim smiled. “Fantastic. You can go. We had a very productive talk and you’re happy with how today went. Any questions give me a call.”
With that Tim let go of the talisman, and the color returned to the man’s eyes. He stood up with a smile. “Well I guess that’s all I need. I’ll call you if there’s anything more.”
“Thanks Mr. Bailey. Anything you need, I’ll be here.”
________________

As Tim saw the parole officer off and went outside to the yard, he was greeted with an unexpected sight. All 4 men had taken off their work gear and were working up a sweat. They were barefoot and were only wearing different styles of sport shorts.
“Oh! You guys always shirtless then?”
“We sure are mi querida!” Ramón said with a smile. “Feels good!”
Tim nodded but smiled inside – they took off their shirts off because of him. Well, the magical stone around his neck at least.
He saw Kruger slathering lotion on his now exposed chest. Ramón joked with his new crewmember about the suntan cream he slathered on. “You keepin’ that skin o’ yours whiter than white, eh ese?

Kruger just skowled. “It’s for the ink you knucklehead, keeps em from fading.”
“Eh, that terrible ink? I say, let it fade amigo!”
“C’mon man, quit breakin’ my balls.”
TIm grinned and looked over at Kung. “Hey – is that a Goku tattoo on your calf?”

“Sure is buddy! I got a lot of motivation from those old shows. Moved on to MMA when I was a teen. Always got pumped up when I saw Goku power up, he’s a hero of mine.”
“I see people talk about it online all the time but I never watched MMA or anything like that.”
“Man, don’t you watch MMA? You never even seen the UFC fights? Tim, you’re missing out.”
Ramón gave Tim a playful punch on the shoulder. “He’s right, hermanito! What you think, muchachos? Our new mission to get Tim here into MMA?”
“Yeah, totally,” Kung said. “And Hey! Once you see how awesome it is, maybe I bring you to my gym and I show you some Muay Thai. You live beside the Big Boss and his family, right? His son James, he’s done a couple Muay Thai classes in our gym and will be back for more. He’s good. You should go with him.”
Kruger called over to them both. “Don’t listen to that dummy, BJJ is a way better fit for you Tim. It’s defensive, no-one gonna get one over on ya if you get a belt or two.”

Kruger had his usual tough-guy scowl on his face as he sauntered over to Tim, but the student could see a softness in his eyes. “I think I might just show you some moves, it would help you. We could have a roll on the mats any time. Keeps you fit.”

Tim could swear Kruger was slightly flexing his arms and pec muscles. I might have overdone it with the subconscious commands, he though…
“I think I’d be terrible at either BJJ or Muay Thai, I’ve never done anything like it before. Never was on a sports team in school even. Don’t wanna be a nuisance to you guys…”
“You won’t, little man. Think about it, will ya?” With that, he headed back over to Jon who was putting boxing gear on. Tim followed in his wake.
“So this is the boxing gear you mentioned? Looks pretty good!”
He watched Jon working his hands on a heavy punchbag. The meaty boxer was punching the bag with huge force; Kung was holding the bag but strong as the martial artist was, he had to strain to keep the punchbag in place. Jon’s muscular arms connected with the bag perfectly.

Jon noticed the student and smiled. “You should try it kid, you might like it.”

“What, do what you’re doing right now?”
“Heh, not exactly son. Technique is learned on the punch mitts or pads. This heavy bag here is for power.”

“Well you sure have a lot of power. Watching you punch that bag, it’s like a mini earthquake.”
Jon laughed his rich, deep laugh. “Thanks for the compliment, son. When I was inside, stuff like this kept me sane. I’d like to show you a few thing. You should stick around someday, I’ll get you throwin’ punches in no time. You’d like it.”
As Tim stepped back and looked at the four hunks surrounding him, his cock jumped in its cage. He couldn’t take it anymore. He reached for the talisman and held it between his fingers. As it glowed green, so too did the 4 pairs of eyes watching him. They moved towards him and waited.

He stood in front of Kruger, marveling at his chest. “Your pecs are so big, they’re amazing…”

The skinhead had been hard at work, a bead of sweat started to slowly drip down between the meaty pecs. Tim leaned in and slowly licked it up.
“This is awesome… Hey, can you make your pecs bounce?”
The skinhead obeyed and his meaty pecs started to bounce up and down.
“Slower…”
Kruger slowed the bouncing down. Tim was practically drooling. He looked at the many other tattoos on the muscle-bound man. INVICTUS was tattooed near his collarbone, and DOMINUS was above his stomach. Tim traced his fingers over the words.
“I know Invictus is Latin for unconquered, but what’s Dominus?”

Kruger’s face remained blank. “It means Lord, or Master.” Tim chuckled, the irony not lost on him.
He moved on to the Mexican beside him, rubbing his hands over the bulging muscles slick with sweat. He spied some hair poking out from his armpits.
“Fuck I love how hairy your pits are. You keep your chest manscaped but don’t trim your pits? Like, at all?”
“Si. Soy un hombre, soy hombruno.”
“Um… What was that in English?”
Ramón fixed his gaze onto Tim. “I am a man. That is why I have hair.”
“Flex your biceps for me.”
The beefy Mexican raised his arms and clenched, his arm muscles popping. Tim buried his head in the hairy pit, licking up the musky sweat.
“Fuck me you smell amazing.”
Tim was intoxicated with lust for the 4 men. He glanced over at Kung and Jon, just waiting for him to worship them.
He focused his attention on Jon. The black boxer waited passively.

“Christ, your nips are so sexy, nobody ever told you that probably… Say Jon – can you punch some more, like you did earlier?”
Jon walked over to the punchbag and threw a punch at it. He used his entire torso to force power through his muscular arm.
“Whoa. You’re so powerful, it’s awesome to watch. You could demolish a guy with a single punch… Say, punch it again but keep your arm flexed against the bag.”
Jon duly obeyed, and as he held a freeze-frame of a boxer punching a bag, Tim felt the hard muscles of his arm.
“Fuck…your arms are massive. They’re a different shape than Greg or Scott too – the muscles are actually different. Do a bicep curl.

Jon straightened and curled his bicep in Tim’s face. “Whoa… It’s so huge…” Tim took his time poking and prodding the huge muscle.
Finally it was Kung’s turn. “Can I feel your flexed muscles Kung?”
He nodded, and started posing for Tim as he massaged the Muay Thai man..
“Your muscles are hard! Like, James is really athletic but this is crazy, they’re like stone! Fuck me you’re so fit…” He took his time massaging a lot of his body, feeling the raw power it held.
Eventually, there was only one thing left to do. All 4 men were still wearing trousers but Tim could easily fix that. A quick command would see them all naked and hard, ready for whatever Tim wanted to do. As he was about to order them to get their cocks out and erect, he stopped. An image of Greg popped into his head. He thought of him and the two brothers, and the great sex they shared.

Tim sighed. “No. This is wrong. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. It’s greed. It almost feels like cheating on Greg. And Scott…”

He looked at the 4 men who just waited passively.
“Fuck. It’s hard, but It’s the right thing to do. Guys, just forget the last 20 minutes happened. I was here and we all talked, we had a good time and you like me a little more. You look forward to seeing me and consider me a friend. I like you all too and seeing you turn your lives around makes me happy.”
Tim knew he was doing the right thing, but there was no harm in a little harmless fun…
“Oh, and…flirt with me more when we’re here together. I want a good bit more physical touching. You like the fact I’m gay and you love trying to turn me on.”
Tim looked at the 4 men, all of whom had qualities he admired.
“You think I’m cute. But don’t make it a competition, I don’t want any of you jealous. Be a team, help each other with your efforts to turn me on. You like spending time with me and you like when I’m in physical contact with all of you.”
Tim remembered the passion they all showed for their physical activities earlier.
“Oh, and also, you want me to spend more time with you and would love to instruct me in the sport you like best. God knows I probably need it…”

Tim headed to the door. “I really like you guys, you know.” With that, he let go of the chain and left.
________________

He raced home, heart beating fast. He was hornier than ever. Quickly pulling up to the house, he raced inside and found the three men on the couch watching a football game. He stripped off his clothing and went over to Greg.
“Sir? I need sex. Like, badly. I need to be fucked. Can you give me a hard fucking?
Greg smiled broadly. “With pleasure, boy. With pleasure…”

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Apologies for the delay, I hope you all like the story 🙂 Sorry too for this slight tease of a chapter but the next one is up very soon!

I like to write what people want, so if you want to have a say in how the story goes, I’d love if you filled in this quick survey:

https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/YMWKGRP
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Use your tongue, lick them hard little nubs

With last minute Christmas shopping in the rearview mirror Ryder’s mom maneuvered the big Navigator south out of Littleton onto westbound 470 towards US 285; meanwhile, inside the vehicle silence followed for the rest of the afternoon ride. Tyler’s left leg rested, rubbing against my right leg, causing my hard cock to lay in the inseam of my Levis. All I could think about, getting Tyler in bed to suck his magnificent cock as an early Christmas gift.

My thoughts were on the view of Tyler’s naked wet body emerging from the shower and things he’d confided to me, he presented a sexual challenge, a conquest for which I couldn’t wait. As the Navigator slowed for the turn into the Pleasance’s compound the driver pressed the button to open the gate. Once inside the gate automatically closed behind us. We drove up the gravel drive toward a large Spanish adobe house on a knoll in the near distance. “We’re here,” Ryder said.

“Wow!” Tyler exclaimed.

Riding up the driveway Tyler and I awed the view of the compound’s sprawling landscape with silent wonderment. The size of the estate appeared surreal, something out of a movie. There on the ridge sat the huge main house with smoke wafting into the air from two chimneys. Surrounded by other structures a few horses roamed the pasture with a mountain in the background. Two dogs ran barking along the fence separating the driveway from the pasture.

Finally, Mrs. Pleasance parked on the concrete parking apron. We all got out offering to help. Met by a middle age man that Ryder’s mother called James, she directed him to begin unloading bags of perishables and take them to the kitchen. With the car unloaded everyone went inside for further introductions and hot chocolate Sarah had waiting.

I looked around taking notice that the house although expansive not to be one of those fancy-ass show homes one might see in a brochure advertising rich and famous. From all I could see standing in the kitchen the house appeared to be utilitarian in design and furnishings: used for living comfortably not necessarily for showmanship or to proclaim wealth. After enjoying our hot drinks James stepped forward suggesting, “If you will mam, let me show our two guests to their room in the guest house.”

Ryder helped us with our bags following James outside to the big guest house, separate from the main house and behind it by about 200 yards. Ryder said, “Robby you were supposed to bunk with me in my bedroom in the house, but when mom found out her sister bowed out at the last minute and Tyler was coming, she put you two in the guest house.”

“No problem,” Ty said.

Once inside James showed us upstairs to our room. “I hope you two don’t mind sharing a room. I put you both in the same room upstairs because all other rooms are already taken by other family members who will be arriving tomorrow.”

“No problems James,” We replied.

“If needed I can get a fold away cot from the storeroom,”

“No need,” Ryder said, “they’ll be okay.”

We threw our bags on the queen size bed while James and Ryder began explaining and showing us where certain items were located. Then Ryder took us out onto the balcony with its magnificent view of the mountain All Ty and I could do was look in awe at the spectacular view. James said, “If either of you smoke you must smoke outside.”

“There’re non-smokers,” Ryder said.

James said, “Come back downstairs, so I can go over a few things.” Once downstairs and into the main room James said, “The hot tub is up to temp and ready to use. Just fold the cover back,” he showed us how, “remove it and set it against the wall,” pointing to the wall, “when you’re done put the cover back in place.”

After James showed us where all the hot tub control switches, refrigerator, washer and dryer, and iron and ironing board were located we thanked him. Ryder said before they left us alone, “Rest up and relax before dinner. Dad and grandpa will probably keep y’all up late talking.”

The two departed, Ty retrieved his two six packs of beer putting them in the fridge to chill. I gave my new friend his Christmas gift early, putting the six packs in the fridge along with the other two. Nervously I asked, “So, what do we do now?”

Ty looked at his watch saying, “It’s a little after five. I wonder what time Ryder’s dad gets home and what time dinner’ll be served?”

“I’m sure Ryder’ll call or be out to let us know,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“I guess we shouldn’t do any cock sucking right now, wouldn’t want to spoil our appetite for dinner,” I said with a chuckle.

About then Ryder’s ringtone went off. He advised that dinner would be served at 7 p.m., so we might as well relax before dinner. After I disconnected I looked at Tyler saying, “We got about two hours before dinner is served, wanna take a nap or whatever?”

Tyler took the lead climbing the stairs. Once in our room he smiled pushing me back on the queen bed saying, “This is whatever…I’ve been waiting a longtime for whatever and can’t wait any longer.”

The way we were laying I could feel the bulge in his pants. “If were gonna do whatever, I think we need to lock the bedroom door.”

Tyler got up to lock the door, while I folded the comforter down to the foot of the bed. Tyler came back to help me finish. We both took positions on the sheets looking into each other’s eyes. “Remember I’m kind of a novice at this, so tell me what you like and how I’m doin.”

“Okay.”

The two of us began undressing the other. Once down to our drawers Tyler pushed me onto my back saying, “Now, tell me what you want me to do.”

With a little chill in the room my nipples were hard. “Play with my nipples.” I reached out taking one of Tyler’s nipples between my forefinger and thumb rolling it around tweaking it. Ty returned the favor and we began oohing and ahhing.

“Now, use your tongue, lick them hard little nubs.” After a few licks Ty began to suck on my nipple letting his tongue brush across the top of my nipple: his facial hair touching my pecs led to more ahhing and oohing. “Bite em lightly.” I felt Tyler’s teeth biting on my nipple. “Not too hard, easy.” As he picked up on things I began murmuring, “More…More,” writhing around on the bed.

Tyler released his mouth from my nipple asking, “How am I doing?”

“Fantastic, now just keep on kissing and licking your way down to my bellybutton, then pull my drawers off and you’ll find the surprise you’re looking for.”

My new-found sex partner continued moving down to my midsection. At my bellybutton, he hooked his thumb and fingers into my waistband and began slowly pulling my drawers off. Suddenly, my hard cock sprang free standing like a rocket ready to launch. I spread my legs wider giving Ty more room to continue exploring. He didn’t take my cock into his mouth; instead, he started sniffing my bush and crotch area. I hoped there was no repulsive odor.

I sensed that the man sniffing around my crotch who claimed to be somewhat of a neophyte, knew more than he’d let on. Tyler continued exploring my crotch while my cock throbbed rhythmically. He took one of my nuts into his mouth rolling it around and then the next before pushing my legs back to my chest. He then began licking the taint area driving me fucking crazy with desire. My asshole was pulsating. Then his tongue hit my bung hole. Needless to say, I jumped bucking my midsection upwards as Ty continued to lick my brown eye, thankful I’d washed it thoroughly a few hours before and had not used it since.

“Oh yes tongue fuck me!” I exclaimed.

Ty continued teasing my asshole with his talented tongue while I begged him to fuck me. Finally, he stopped what he was doing, moving up my body to my face I asked, “I thought you said you’d never done anal before?”

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Eight o’clock and the knock at the door. I love to hear the deep wooded tone of brass on one place, specially hardened to stand the years of gentlemen seeking entry. 

I open it, a fine looking fellow, perhaps just past thirty strides in. I take his hat, his overcoat, his umbrella, furled as it was not raining.
“Mr. Evans, so good of you to favour us with your company. Kind of you to make time in what I’m sure is your very busy schedule.”
He smiled, agreed, commented on the weather and then I offered him something to drink. We have very fine single malt whiskeys, I’m particular proud of our selection of ports and Brandies…..what was his pleasure?

“Thomas, is it?, I’ll leave that to you. You know your cellar and I do not, rather to take something from the hands of a master sommelier than foolishly ask for something that turns out to be plonk.”
“Quite agree Sir, and thank you for your complimentary words. If you’ll just give me a moment, I”ll make a selection. Do, Sir, feel free to glance at our library here, I’m told, of its type, it’s one of the finest in the world.”

On the screen showing his movements I can see he’s picked up a book from a table that was not left there by chance. Impossible to avoid noticing that the bulge in his trousers seems to be expanding and I’m just waiting until…..he turns the page. He’s done it, sweat almost immediately appears, Oh he’s interested, they always are. Will he take it back to the chair and sit with it in his lap covering what is now almost as large as two mens fist, one on each side of his zipper? However, if he turns the next page, and he will, he’ll deflate almost immediately. Rustling slightly to give hint of my approach, he replaces the book and, as I enter, would seem to be reading the spines of some  other books.

“As you said, Thomas, a truly amazing collection. However were they got?”
“Members, Sir, all through our membership although on occasion we would be offered something and if the Board of Governors thought it worthwhile, we’d make the purchase. “

I proffered the tray with the Brandy balloon on it. “To your taste, Sir?”
“I’m sure I’ve had this before, I like a Brandy with authority as this one has.”
“We always say we regret to tell people that that one is French in origin, a fine old Calvados. Sharp to the tongue, the taste of apples distinct but not to overwhelm the basic smooth woodiness of the apple wood tree.”

He sipped, taking a bit more, I suggested a second, he accepted, “Would you care to remove your suit coat, Sir?” It was handed over. Almost automatically he undid the top two buttons on his shirt, seemed to relax, stood and returned to the book. I knew he would make it to pages four through six. I waited as he got to them, studied them, took a large swallow of the Brandy, almost draining the glass and that’s when I appeared with the whole bottle. “Some find the label interesting, clearly nothing modern or recent about it”.

“Thomas, “
“Sir?”
“This book seems very out of place for this sort of establishment. This is for gentleman and, in here, clearly are no gentlemen.”
“Ah, yes, you are correct but…..some of the illustrations are of members, no longer members of course but the Governors found it best to acquire it, keep it from public hands. Surely you will understand. What, Sir, if your photograph were to be in that book?”.
“That wouldn’t be possible, why I have my position to consider, my work, these men are engaged in, well, sexual acts doesn’t even begin to express…..”
“No, Sir, you’re quite right, you would never appear in such a book doing the sort of sordid thing….and yet…sometimes when I look at it and them, they do seem to be rather enjoying themselves……”

He finished that balloon of Brandy, poured out another, rather a large one and returned to the book. Pages nine and on. He sat down, the book in his lap, drawn to it, now curious if anyone he knew might just possibly be in it. 

The door to the next room opened, Pablo stepped out, all smiles, in the pure white of a fine masseur.
“Is Sir ready for his treatment? No urgency, Sir, ready at your convenience. “
“Now is fine.” He headed for Pablo, dropping the book in a chair. “Really, even if it has members, it’s disgusting to so openly display it.”
He handed me his glass and walked away.

The door closed quietly behind the two men. I put the book back in its customary position looking like nothing more than an innocent coffee table decoration, perhaps a book on architecture in Kent.

In the room they both stopped. It was not quite the typical place in a “massage parlour” more of an extension of the bedroom of a fine gentleman, a place where his man could rub out the aches and pains that automatically follow playing polo or help put some of the little green men in the bottle from which they came the night before.  Adjacent to the table were a chair as well as a bureau on wheels, clearly carrying the tools of the trade of an artful masseur. And  Pablo was an expert. One could be forgiven if the whole atmosphere was reminiscent of a billiards or snooker room. One large light over the table, just no serried ranks of seat going up to give the observer a better view of the play.  The light was just short of being the length and width of the table. Subdued as if a game were to be played lacking only the intense green reflection common to surfaces covered in very green baize. This surface was grey and, when you felt it, lightly padded. 

Pablo extended the chair. “Your clothes sir. Place your boots on the seat and, when you’re on the table I’ll hand this on to Thomas for all to be pressed and shined. It is presumed here that nudity is expected….should that cause you alarms……” But the man shook his head and smiled at what a foolish convention, clothed whilst having a massage? Ridiculous.

It was and was not a standard massage table. Longer, wider and more padded but these were only variances, if this masseur knew his business, he wouldn’t care. 

From boarding school on he’d a routine for undressing, odd, he had a chair much like this one at home, his dressing chair he called it. Coat first, then his boots, in buckle the belt, remove his tie and fold it three times, unbutton three of his shirt buttons, unbuttoned the waistband of his trousers, finished unbuttoning the shirt, removed his studs, removed the trousers then his socks and finally his briefs, small, almost transparent, white. The last was different from school, there everyone wore a sort of boxer that could barely be got under his shorts so, when he was away from school, he’d switched to a bikini brief, very brief really. His genitals were in bas relief. 

Pablo stood beside the table, ready to assist him up and perched him on the edge; There was some few questions.
“Are you sensitive to pressure or do you have areas on your body of which I should be respectful?”
“No.”
“Our treatments are not of any particular length, just what the gentleman and I feel is good for them and satisfying. I assume you have no further plans for the evening?”
There was no answer so Pablo continued.
“About the genitals. This is a full body massage and in the course of it some contact with your man parts is unavoidable. My men usually get an erection, certainly to be expected, and they always request that I resolve the problem in my own way. I’m told it’s satisfying and pressure relieving.”
“Uh, well, yes, certainly, I would always expect to have what the other men have.” He paused. “I mean, that is, you would relieve me by causing an ejaculation by using your hand.”
“Yes sir, that’s exactly it, No offense but most men have done similar by themselves, some say being in the hand of another man is quite good.”
He remembered how true that was….doing nasty things with other men, he clearly remembered and the day he resolved to stop. How long ago? Now he was here and, probably would have done to him what he had done to others then abstained, was now to be done to him as a routine part of a massage. That was alright, that was safe, perfectly reputable place for gentleman, highest reputation, having his sperm removed professionally, if you thought of it that way was almost a medical procedure. Like having your nose drained if you were plagued with sinusitis.

Pablo did some stretching exercises then approached the naked  body in front of him. As a  blind person would “read” another to understand their face, their hands, Pablo moved his fingers lightly over finding the places where a muscle seemed too out of place, perhaps a tendon was taught. He asked the gentleman to turn over and repeated the process on the front of his body and, yes, did the same inquisitive feeling of his cock and balls but moved on down his legs. Embarrassingly, he felt an erection, he hadn’t thought it would happen so quickly. 

Pablo noticed, put some oil in his hand and seized the upright penis with a firm grip and using the good strokes, the ones that could be felt deeply, he started to relieve the build up of sperm and tension. Didn’t take long, less than two minutes before the cock became a fountain of gooey, milky viscous fluid. 

“Been a while, sir, I’ll wager, does a man good to relieve himself at least several times a week. Glad to get you started back on doing something good for yourself. Probably happen a time or two more, nothing to distress yourself about, after abstinence, that’s what happens. Get it all cleaned out, let those testicles get back to their proper work and all will be as right as rain, Sir.”

It had felt good and the mention of some several more was encouraging. He could enjoy himself with no recriminations. Like the other things but…not likely to happen here in an establishment for gentlemen. Pablo was involved with mixing oils, checking their viscosity or their slickness on the skin. The first and thickest oil always went in the hair, it gave the person, should they see it, the impression that their fast fading locks were…not so far gone as supposed. And if the oil was worked in, then maybe the look of fullness could be contained. For a time.

Pablo had started on a leg and was applying the pressure of his two palms on the perimeter then drawing them together then back. Going back to the feet, he worked the soles with a dexterity that had to be felt. The gentleman had never had that done and made a note, while he could still maintain cogent thought given the overload of pleasure, to have that  done again.
“Just going to hang some weights around your ankles sir, helps to stretch the calf muscles. The manacles were loosely fastened, the chains to which they would be attached lay under the covering of the foot rest one used to climb up onto the table. There was another foot step on the front with the chains under the surface. 

Pablo was working up his legs, always go toward the heart someone had once said, maybe it was true. His good thighs, meaty but muscled were getting a firm, rolling palm and then the knuckles, felt great. But. what happened next was open to question. As smoothly as he explained everything, next it was time for the cavity, his ass, to be serviced but  before, all the gentleman liked to be a bit opened, made it easier for them and Pablo, nothing much really, just a simple, round dowel that was introduced, greased of course, until it touched the place by the prostate. He wasn’t given much time to think or respond before he felt a warmed instrument slide into him. Pablo commented, without an opinion, that it was good to find men who’d had their ass opened and frequently. Made the massage better for them. 

He wanted to crawl away and become fungus. Well, the truth was that he had taken up his bucket….more than a few times. Facts were that he was almost a slave to his hole and the men who would fill it for him. But here, in this private, invitation only establishment, to be found out….He mumbled something that was both an explanation and an apology.

“No need, Sir, no need at all. What makes a man comfortable, happy, give him that good feeling, then that’s what he ought to do. It would be my pleasure Sir, indeed it would, to give you a taste of what I can do, got a fair number of compliments I have.”
He assumed that a positive response was given as it always was.
“Now, Sir, on your belly and stretch out your arms, feel that pull along the tendons right into the fingers…Very good. I’ll just add some weights to help stretch you out. Good.”
There were chains that substituted for weights but without seeing them, one couldn’t know. Pablo reached back, removed the dildo from his ass then quickly replaced it with another, larger one, warmed, almost soft feeling. Mr. Evans thought of a man he’d once partnered for a few months…the feeling of fullness, the warmth, all so relaxing. 

“Now, Sir,  we’re going to need you on your back while I work on your chest, just easily roll….that’s it, don’t mind the weights, they work just as well no matter which side you’re on.” He quietly pressed a button that quietly turned a roller that drew the chains a bit shorter, not that Mr. Evans would notice. Yet.
“Ready for another relieving the reservoir yet, Sir?” And slowly rubbed the cock that had never quite got soft. No answer so Pablo began. “Sir, we have a special, just made for us, appliance that we find induces a far greater ejaculation. I’ll just slip it over your manly bit and….just pull your scrotum through this ring, it anchors the sack around your cock.:” He quietly took two lead wires, one for the cock cover and the other for the ring about the balls. “Very good, Sir? Comfortable? Lets see what we can produce.” He flicked a switch causing a very low current to start to flow into the cock and out the ring around the nuts. Warming, the pressure on his now very engorged penis was almost forcing him to blow his man juice. He was moaning slightly, moving his hips just a bit, becoming really involved in what was going on. 

Pablo left him to enjoy himself while he quietly raised two rollers to which the sets of chains were attached. Just a touch more pull on the chains, nothing too noticeable, just so that his man would know the “weights” were still there. He also pulled off his white shirt and pants leaving him in a leather jock strap. The lights were lowered slightly except for one over the table. Mr. Evans lost in his pleasure was oblivious to any changes, only that he was awfully grateful for the invitation and certainly hoped he’d be approved for membership….if that included access to Pablo, it was well worth the few quid a week. 

One change he did begin to notice, the padded surface on which he’d been laying seemed to have been removed to be replaced by what felt like wooden slats. He almost asked but….his cock answered a question by drooling precum. Pablo quietly put a blinder over his eyes, one filled with a  cooling gel, so good, so relaxing for one. There seemed to be no point in opening them. Whatever was going on was being done for him and him alone. 

Pablo slipped the very large nipple rings onto his chest, added leather gauntlets and a leather bishops helmet with the lips sealed and only the eyes open. Mr. Evans was about to be awakened to a new reality. 

The chains were now turning faster, drawing the arms and legs taut, beyond taut to painful. The rack on which he was laying had a heating element in it making it very hot. 

Mr. Evans suddenly came to realize that he wasn’t receiving a massage, he was being torn apart. Trying to shake his head to remove the blind he found he couldn’t. The cuff around his cock grew tighter as did the ring around his nut sack. He opened his mouth to scream but a gag, made like a cock was slipped in and tied around his head to assure it would stay there. He was sweating, the hair in his arm pits were dripping, his chest was bleeding sweat. Pablo attached the nipple clamps then added their wires to the ones already attached to the machine. He made some changes in settings and presently Mr. Evans felt his nipples being roasted with electricity as they jumped in time to the varying currents and levels. 

The cameras had been set up for the still photographs, the video cameras had been working since he walked into the room. It was now time for him to see as well as feel his new situation. Pablo ripped off the blind, grabbed his hair, lifted his head and let him look right into the camera. He could also see Pablo or, as he was sometimes referred to by aficionados of this kind of punishment, El Diablo. He took out his upper denture and replaced it with one that had steel teeth some of which had been sharpened. Mr. Evans looked in panic and pain around himself and found…nothing that would help him. The chains were stretching him to the point certain joints felt as if they might pop. His head heard something, something familiar, clippers. His head was to be shaved!! Forgetting about what was happening to him, he saw his life, his well ordered, perfectly regulated life being destroyed as the clippers worked around his ears, across his forehead…a hand felt the slight burr that was left and, again, the clippers as his groin was peeled. 

Hot, in terrific pain, confused, not knowing what might happen and if he’d get out alive regardless of his altered appearance….that’s when the sound of a whip being tried, the crack at the end as it broke the sound barrier, the first lashing as it went across his muscular thighs, his abdomen, his electrified nipples. Then from the other side, this time with a cat, small lead balls tied in the end of each leather strip that comprised the nine tails. Slower but just as effective, he was whipped one way and then another. The electric points were removed only to allow a bucket of cold water to be thrown on him followed by another. 

He was at the maximum stretch on the rack though he did not know it. Now the photographer moved in for close ups of his suffering, his genitals his face contorted with fear and pain, the cock gag stuck in his mouth but outside, to complete it, a pair of balls any man would be proud of. Pictures of hair on the floor, his almost naked flesh where the hair had been. Pablo placing an elastrator around his balls, picture of them as they changed colour. That was removed just before it could have done damage. 

And then it was quiet. Only the slight creak of the chains stretching him plus the sound, if it had one, of sweat hitting the floor. Of course his moaning which was ongoing but otherwise, the room was silent, seemed like a vault, no movement of air. A sharp pain in his ass. Sleep.

How long can time be when you have no notion that it’s passing? Mr. Evans found himself returning the room he remembered, on the table he remembered, Pablo in his whites. No chains, no anything attached to him. He could move but…just for a moment only laying there while time sorted itself out. He looked at Pablo who smiled his pleasant smile, asked him if he wished to be helped down. His clothes were neatly pressed and on a gentleman’s dressing stand, the shirt and the coat across the top, the pants folded over the cross piece, his under wear and socks on the seat, his shoes, well shined on the floor. 

He looked at Pablo, almost fearing that this was a trick, he was to be tempted to dress but before he could get to his clothing, something…he didn’t know what, would happen. He took a tentative step toward them and then another. More quickly than usual he was able to dress and was sitting on the chair tying his shoes when Pablo approached with a leather bound volume. 

“Some photos to help you remember your evening with us. As with all our members, we keep these as sort of a souvenir and an encouragement to you to return for….appointments when you’re needed. Evans was almost afraid to accept the book much less look in it, he felt he knew the contents and also knew another book in which one or more casual snaps of him might soon appear. 

Pablo ever smiling handed him an envelope. “This contains your statement for your membership also a time for your next appointment. We feel that you and Mr. Brandford would make an interesting study for our cameras. I look forward to seeing your then….”

On the street he felt the chilly air on his now bald head but looked back at the imposing structure, his new Gentlemen’s Club in London and shuddered. He could only imagine what his next appointment might consist of but of one thing he was sure, it was an appointment he could not afford to miss.

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