Author: admin

Sam, Mars and I were sitting around his “other” living room, the one behind the door that looked like it went to a broom closet. Even from the outside, the exact proportions were impossible to see because the geometry of the construction was made to throw your eyes elsewhere. What looked like a large, thick hedge actually covered a painted camouflage wall which was the side of his private home. There was another hedge to draw your eyes to it and where you’d see a set of diving boards, the tallest being the standard ten meter. Ergo there was a pool. And there was, just not there. The whole edifice was one canard after another, almost an Escher drawing made real in architecture. The front door actually opened into a very pleasant, well furnished foyer and living room beyond which was a swimming pool. In fact, it was only a lap pool but the angle of perception gave it the effect of something larger and, of course, peripherally you may have noticed the diving boards. Pool.

Mars and his architect had slaved over the design not only because it was going to physically challenging to built but because it required so many disparate elements that simply did not figure in residential construction; Every upright that was not clearly decorative and few were, had to be able to hold as many as five thousand pounds of dead weight or, with an accompanying beam, hold a water pool ten feet deep, twenty feet long and ten feet wide, essentially a hammock filled with water. Oh, and one that could be sealed. No one had that in their homes and, apart from someone truly quirky, no one would want it. But for Mars and his guests it was perfection, so many things thought of than had never even ben dreamed about. No thought had been spared on any detail, down to the feet on the floor; They could have been the ordinary flared foot or end of a post that almost all things have but many of the feet were cast steel made to look like claws or stakes from which a steel piece of rope drooped…as if something it had recently held had  either made good an escape or had been moved for…other purposes.

It wasn’t the day before the night of the opening, it was the morning of the night of the opening and, as calm as I was trying, I wasn’t holding it together very well. Curled into Sam, my eyes jumped about, fingers twitched, constantly readjusted myself…Sam was being courtesy profound in  allowing all this, so unusual for me. Mars, in his roll of good, if confused host, thought of diversions…a hour on the rack with three quarter tension, two hours in a leather sleep sack suspended upside down so only cock and/or balls were available for diversion….but great ideas as these were, all I could think of was…the show. Somewhere Heck, Bob, Lannie, the two Dads all the guys were certainly more nervous than I, what did I have to do? Nothing. Show up, be there…and we’d solved that problem.

For months I’d stayed away and out of touch with my family and my lover….Heck. One disastrous day he’d decided to have a fling with our private pilot which, though demonstrating infidelity, might have gone un noticed IF he hadn’t sent Will as his substitute working on the dumb theory that if he could fuck, and whatever else, Andy, I could have Will but it backfired in that Heck played too fast and loose with my emotions. For years my cousin and I had been a modeling sensation, covers of everything, chased by the press, molested by fans, running for fear of having our clothes torn for us…finally we found the ranch in the middle of nowhere, were taken in by the twin brothers who owned it, Britt my cousin, took up with Heck’s brother, Clem,  and, after a long, long courtship, almost broke some cowboys hearts when they saw it coming through, I fell in love, permanently, forever, no backing out with Heck. It didn’t end as well for all; My cousin and his brother finally were introduced to the whipping post Heck kept and then run off the ranch. Well, they were hauled off the ranch and sent somewhere for what Heck would only describe as training. Draw the curtain.

Meantime, I took to buckaroo life and loved it. Of course having a man to lead me into it helped, having a man, a wonderful man to sleep with certainly no distraction plus he had the pleasure of teaching me all about sex, at least the kind of sex he liked and I found I enjoyed.

I stood up and looked out one of Mar’s twenty foot high windows, put my hand on it…”no heat at all.”

“Nope, those were special rolled, three layers and, one more rolling and light would have had to fight its way in but they serve their purpose, keep in pleasant and shady in here, cool….” in the middle of his sentence his fact turned a mottled color, he gestured at me and Sam to follow him. Wherever we were going we each grabbed a gun that shot large pellets; We knew we were under attack by a drone and it was time to shoot the son of the bitch out of the sky but…..not before Sam mounted a counter attach.  

This was my second since we’d rolled in and, truth to tell, I was sorry there hadn’t been more. When you have a home like Mars, curiosity is part of the parcel. If the construction, which included diggin a pit fifty feet deep, hadn’t been noticed, the crains moving steel beams and what might or might not have been walls certainly were. Among other things, an underground tank, the sort normally used under a gas station was installed although clearly there were no pumps. Shit like that got the neighbors knickers in a twist as to what was going on, in, around….then when it was all finished, nothing unusual seemed to happen. Occasionally the sound of people swimming, a barbecue, lawn mowing  equipment, nothing to give and hints as to what the hell really went on.

And that’s when the first drone came over the twelve foot adobe-over steel-wall. The first time or two, Mars took it pretty well, chose not to believe this might be having a look at his property and, when they fell as they usually do, when a frightened kid, with a slightly less frightened Dad standing back about ten paces came to the front door, it was handed back with the request that more care be taken. Friendly wave to the day, who couldn’t decide whether to wave back which left his hand at liberty, two fingers waving and the rest…puzzled. In the end the Dad did a bad piece of broken field running-to hell with his children, they could fend for themselves, and all went away.

Had it ended there, or perhaps with an errant kite crashing to a tree, Mars might have ignored these incursions into his airspace. That is, he ignored them until one day while outside cleaning the pool and the pool boy, something rose up preceded by sounds that were indicative of an iron lung on full save mode and this drone appeared, cameras rolling and on a course to survey the property….Some people shouldn’t have toys they don’t know how to properly play with; This drone was in the hands of a rank amateur and while attempting a fly over of the pool, Mars and the pool boy, caught an up draft from the air conditioning system and did a header into the pool.

Back inside, and leaving Depth Star One in fifteen feet of chlorinated water, Mars put on some clothes, something he’d worn to an IML group actually, and waited for the knocker-large, forged steel, made in the shape of an elephants genitalia-to let him know someone was there. Possibly wanting something, something of theirs. Odd, or perhaps it wasn’t, no visitors, carolers, UPS delivery guy (A close friend who made deliveries when there was nothing to deliver), scouts selling whatever, those holding religious tracts…nope, no one. Mars slid out of the minimal bit of Leather, put on an at home jock and went back to the Sala Torquemada where he’d left the pool boy and finished cleaning him.

We had discussed and to some degree rehearsed this bit of boys only activity. There was no question that what these people wanted was the full Monty, the Schlong and Pffeffernuss, the Cock and Bull Story, that sort of thing. They wanted Mars, and whomever he might be entertaining in what ever fashion, to respond to this bit of looky looky, laugh, point their cocks at it, do the half turn and split their cheeks allowing for an oh-so-deep close up and, whatever ever else. Sam and Mars took the low road and, sneaky me, I took the high road, the spiral staircase that revealed itself when one pushed aside a wall in the “Steel Cage:” room, plenty of room, no waiting. That interior bit of collection of risers led one out behind a chimney onto what, depending on the use to which it would be put, as either a pleasant sunning space or…oops…a grilling stand for those who took their sun greased, stretched then spread eagled and left until it was almost, but not quite, a level one burn. At that point the meat was turned and grilled on the reverse with steel writings placed on various parts which when removed, alerted the viewer to the ultra white against the too, too, cerise red with words like, “rump roast” or “Ready to Fuck”. Also, as the melanin in the skin tried to repair itself, those words  stuck…

Today, however, we had a whole new use for this place fifty feet up. In one hand I carried a well made, eighty foot coil of rope all set for steer roping. No steer? Oh, Nice I was somewhat raised on a ranch and could stand stark naked in cow shit and throw out a rope with a 98% accuracy. Heck had been so proud. Today, from an angle impossible to see due to the elegant architecture, I had a great view of all below me, Sam was whipping Mars who was on his knees sucking his dick. Hard to do but with practice…So engrossing was this to the electric panderers they never noticed me start to widen the loop then quietly toss it out scoring a perfect catch and able to quickly pull it taut so it never fell, never damaged itself but…now became our property. Needless to say the Fellatio at the bridge stopped because, well, unless their audience had knot holes in the fence, their show had been cancelled on account of a cowboy….but I’d dealt with livestock before and too often had seen a stray try and break from the herd. And, yep, just like the script, from another angle another drone….apparently unaware of what had just happened. Always take two ropes when you’re wrangling, pays dividends. As silent as a vindictive boyfriend creeping to an unguarded window, my second lariat zipped through the air and made another clean catch. Braced myself-I now had two doggies on the line and waited for Sam and Mars to get to where the machines were swinging back and forth held by my rope but not allowed to completely drop due to a roof overhang. 

Leaving uninvited company where it was hanging, we reassembled to have a discussion of…’what next?’ Opinions varied, what we had strung up and, in a very real sense, ready for branding and castrating was probably…close to three or four thousand dollars worth of boys toys. No question in anyone’s mind this was an intentional invasion of privacy. One thing, they had no clue as to how all this got screwed up; No one noticed a ‘nekkid’ cowboy on a roof swinging a rope and getting the take down. Twice. Our question was who, if anyone would show up to claim their property.
Sooner than anyone had expected, the door got itself knocked and, looking at the visual system that virtually covered the outdoors, we saw two cops from the Vegas PD, clearly from the bike patrol-their helmets, cavalry style boots, short sleeves and very tanned arms made that clear. I was good at speaking on camera so I pushed the button for communication, told the officers to get in the shade, I’d be up front directly. Used my friendliest pitch voice, the one where we KNEW the product was a stinker but I did all I could.
En route to the front door, I pulled on a polo shirt, a jock, my jeans, socks and boots ending at the door looking like a nice guy opening the front door to see what the trouble was. What the officers saw was a slab of beef with a very familiar face, smiling, encouraging them to get in out of the heat-I vamped that one, it was winter and tell me what’s on their mind. What I saw was sort of the down scale version of me; Two more slabs of cop beef, their biceps almost tearing their arm holes about six sizes larger.
I introduced myself, said I was a guest, just there for an opening of a show I had an interest in which opened that evening, if they’d like, I could sure go rustle up the owner…..
“You’re…..the guy from the television…all the ads.” Without his helmet he revealed a head of deep brown hair close cropped, good looking face that, just then, had forgot why he was there but was in to something a lot more interesting; Me. Counting backward, it was just possible to see him as a fan from yesterday, grown up and with a profession. Happy to see me?
“Hey, I’m Click and this is my partner…..Dane.” That didn’t sound right. I helped. “I’m Dane, you’re Click” I extended my hand to the as yet unnamed officer. “…and you’re?”
“Joey, uh no, that is, my mom calls me Joey but I’m Joe. He’s Click and I’m Joey.” I liked this man, he was so rattled I could see him almost kick himself for the second Joey. They were almost twins, in some sad ways reminded me of Heck and Clem, but not here and not now.
“What’s up?” And snickered to myself when I thought about the two drones hanging from the roof line. I watched Click, apparently the leader or the most composed…
“Uh let me look at my book, just a seck…..uh, hey, Joey, this don’t make no sense, what’ve you got?” I wondered what he had as well as I could see both boys being entertained by Sam, Mars and me at a later date. Their muscles were up to it, but were their minds.
“Have you been out today?”
“Uhm umh, just around the house, being nervous about the show tonight…”
“The all guy show?”
“Yep, my business partner, our barber, lot a folks from our ranch and Amarillo are in it….”
“That is supposed to be some fucki…sorry, Sir.”
“Don’t give it one fucking thought, I live on a ranch with seventy cowboys and six thousand cows. That’s not the only word I know and use regularly.” Their smiles lit one of Sam’s walls. “You wanted to know if I was out of the house…haven’t even been off the property since I stopped by to see my Dad and Partner, round about, oh, seven, eight last evening. Home, we cooked out, turned in and…”
“This is just weird shit, makes no sense.” I watched both their bodies move into the relaxed state from the cop on semi-brace state. They just got better looking and more desirable. Couldn’t decide which one I wanted to work over first or which one would get the hardest watching the other one get double fucked…..After the show this evening, of course. “According to this someone in this residence has or stole or, I don’t get this shit at all….seems two jerks were playing with some drones and they say they flew over the fence and just…disappeared. Must have had cameras cuz they say they were, well, the drones were, cruising around the back yard when they lost the picture and control of their drones.”
“I think I’d better get our host, my head wrangler is with me for the show, it’s his boss that’s in it too:”. In my mind I hoped and probably knew that Sam and Mars had been listening and getting prepared for their entrance. “Hold on, guys, I’ll be right back.” Turned and walked away hollering, “Hey, Sam, you mutha, get here and bring Mars, the guys probably need to speak to him.” And rounded a corner where I was grabbed by my pair, almost speechless with laughter. They had changed clothes, well, put some on and some clever person, my money was on Mars, had styled this for the occasion. Sam had on his grubby ranch jeans, a plaid shirt with the arms torn off that nicely displayed his tats as well as his enormous bicpet and some boots. Every inch the cowhand and, only if you knew how to read ink, the former con. I could jump that one if I had to. Sam looked like a prosperous business man at home relaxing. Slacks, some suede at home shoes, a silk shirt under a cashmere sweater. He needn’t have bothered. Click exploded.
“Well, son of a bitch, Mars, I didn’t know this pile was yours, when’d you move out here.”
He smiled, went over, shook their hands, normal, gave them a hug and kissed each of them. Not normal but…I could see we were well on the road to getting whatever we wanted and probably…guests for later on. Something in my innards suggested to me that when Click and Joey went home, it was not to mama.
“Sit, tell Daddy what’s up”.
We all did, the officers looking more comfortable and desirable than a few moments ago, Sam, ever my protector, sat on the arm of chair where I was, his arm casually above me on the top of the chair, Mars flopped out on a couch. Take off the cops uniforms, put them in street clothes and you had the guys having a beer before the poker party started.
“This cocksucker, we’ve dealt with him on too many other occasions, says he had some drone flying around and he lost it, says you stole it….” They looked disgusted which was when I decided to throw them something they could use, maybe even have fun with when, as they would have to, report back to the “cocksucker”.
“Uh…..guys…Mars…uh I may have been less than…uh…candid. Uhm I was up on the sun tan deck working on a surprize for my business partner, the one who’s in the show? (To sound true cowboy and Colorado/Texas Oklahoma rancher, you throw an up inflection at the end of each sentence. True Southerners make every sentence a question doing this.) Everyone looked at me.
I was working with a long rope, planned to rope him from the stage when this thing, I guess a drone, came over and wasn’t lost, big mother, lenses…anyway I could hear Sam so I thought, well, sheeit, I’ve got electronic window peepers…had the noose all opened, was already in to the twirl so I just, kindly, dropped in over the drone, pulled it up short, and tied it off. Bet, if we look it…oh, you need to know this..how many did the dick heads say they lost?”
Click held up one finger. I shook my head while raising two fingers. “Got both of them, they’re hanging some place….:”
The cops went into I’m on your side mode. “Show me.”
We all traipsed out through the kitchen, around the pool then the next corner and, just as predicted, two drones, hanging there. We all stared, looked at each other then looked back.
“Hey, Mars, you got a stick or a rake, anything to reach one of them?”
He was back in ten seconds holding a rake. “Gents, this is now a crime scene. You, all of you, have been spied upon for immoral purposes. Gotta ask…is there anything that this one or that camera could have broadcast that might be of a, uh, personal nature.”
Sam, never one to hang back, “I was blowing Mars, but it was just for fun….”.
“So that might be something this camera could have picked up?”
“Maybe, probably so, we wasn’t hidin’ in the bushes, nothin’ like that…”
“…and Dane, you were on the roof working an act with your ropes? “
“Yeup, just like I was at home, sitting on a fence post swinging my rope to cut a cow out for dinner…”
Joey pulled out a phone, turned it on, said something into it. Nodded at Click. Clearly we were done there as he headed back inside. “Got the crime scene people coming, it’ll be awhile.” He looked at Mars, nodded his head toward the pool…:”You mind?”
“Mi Casa e su casa….I’ll put some towels out. Want your bikes washed and waxed?” We all laughed at that while the officers started to strip.

“Friends of yours?”
Mars smiled, “Yep, trained ’em myself. They used to hang around a club I kind of own,” he winked at Sam, “sorry little puppies, didn’t even know how to find each other and, well, you can look at them…before someone took one home leaving the other sad, I tied ’em together, told them to get acquainted, told the to join the Cop Shop, told them to bulk up, told them to that course…Sam? they guy who teaches motorcycle riding, everything from first day to evasion and pursuit…him.” Little pressure and, you see the results. Proud and good officers of the Las Vegas PD. And my puppies to whom they are very, very grateful. Do anything for me…”
I think I raised my eyebrows. Nothing wrong, as Sam said, made for each other but then I thought about a long time ago, a pair of twins with Mahogany hair that you couldn’t comb….and how one of them…..I ducked my head. Instantly, Sam slid into the chair with me, held me. Looked at Mars…”The guy in the show was his man…a twin, owns the ranch with him. Dumped him for a sky boy and I found him in a jail….I’ll explain it all later.” He put his arms around me. “He ain’t worth it…”
“Yeah but..Sam, I love him, love you to but I’m so fucking faithful, he’s the one who made me a cowboy, the ranch, got some peace, I gave him my cherry…”
“Yeup but you’re a big strong man paired with another big strong man, ain’t all that bad, now is it.” Mars broke it.
“Well, I’ll say you’re both big strong men, would have much you can life frighten me?”
“Nah, we’d just use you to play catch. Dane here don’t know how to play Baseball so you could be the ball…balls between the pitcher and the catcher,. we’d switch off.”
“Sorry guys, won’t happen again. Do I get swats for that? “And smiled at Sam.
His crooked smile came back. :”Don’t know about swats but you’ll get sumpin sure as shootin’ .”

Click and Joey reappeared attractively clad in…nothing. It was, easy, their best look. “Uh, Mars…we got time for, you know, let those two play, look like good meat to us.”
“Oh, they’re prime plus.” He paused to think. “How much time until the crime scene people show up? IF you can delay them, there’s no body, nothing to rot, maybe even schedule it for tomorrow? They go for that?”
Joey reached for his phone which would be in his shirt pocket if he had a pocket or was wearing a shirt that had a pocket. “Sorry, I’ll go find out.”
Happy as a just scratched puppy, Joey reappeared saying that, since this was ‘only’ a crime scene with no real crime, the guys there could put it off until it was convenient for every one. Click looked even happier. He got down on the floor, put his head and his beautiful eyes in Mars lap. “Can we, Huh, whatever you want us to do….them, too, of course.”
“Oh yes, they are in on this one. But I need one from you first.”
They put their heads to one side, almost like a puppy waiting to the leash and the walk. “These two guys need to get into the show tonight and never be seen. I want them up high where they can see it all then get away at the end. Think you can arrange that? I’ll walk in the front with the paying guests….”
They looked at each other…”Sure, no problem…”
Mars put an edge in his voice that I recognized as that of a benevolent master. “Get it done…now, gives us more play time and more for you to play with. I’m sure neither of you wants to be leashed and made to stay…now would you?” They indicated that would not be a good thing. “What’s my word?” Not please or thank you, what is it, together,…”
“Woof!!” That’s my good puppies now run and fix it and I’ll get ready for you to have a new experience.”
I don’t know what he promised them but….it made a believer out of me and I didn’t even know what it was.
“Hey, guys, wanta strip here or there? Just need you naked.” He waited while we slipped out of what few clothes we had on. “Follow me, the pups know where to find us.”

It wasn’t a big room, twelve by twelve, just big enough to accommodate two substantial tables, almost surgical boards.
“Hop up, both of you face that way and I’ll get you set up.” We did while Mars opened drawers on each side, got ready for…whatever. We were easily flat on our backs looking up at a dark ceiling that was countersunk with dozens, maybe hundreds of what I assumed were wheat lights if turned on. “Okay, Sam, I’ll start with you first. Secure your ankles with these….” And pulled out the largest, heaviest manacle I’d ever seen, one per side. The click they made sounded more like a prison door suddenly shut. I got the same treatment.
“Okay, secure your chests, cuff your wrists, stretch them over this edge and….you’re about ready. Here’s what will happen. The puppies will be above on their hands and knees until I get established then they’ll drop, take your cocks in their mouths, you’ll slurp up theirs and…its good old 69 time except, you keep sucking until I call all over. And they’re gonna come like rivers cuz I’m gonna have a fist in each ass all the way down play with their P spot like it was a boxing bag. IF they take their mouths from you, say so, that gets them….a reminder not to do that. Guys this is mostly to give you a good sucking and a great feeling. Know your tastes, want some heavier bondage? Dane? Sam? Okay, we’ll start here and go from there, after words, convenient that there are two of you and two of them, you will each need to punish them, I’d suggest a whip, don’t worry about leaving marks, they expect them and muscles like yours, which are for work not just to be looked at, I’m betting their howling when the first strike catches their ass, will be memorable. Okay? Ready? Here come the hounds.”
Click and Joey were wearing basic puppy play outfits, but very little as practically every orifice on their body would have need to be accessed.
“Okay, I’ve got two new trainers for you and….they’re pros so don’t try and lay back or…I’ll let them deal with you later. Notice the steel cuffs, that’s because they are strong and need that resrtrain. Okay, up!.” As graceful as gazelles they hopped up and positioned themselves, one cock right above me and another, mine, pointed up, or would be.
Mars turned around holding a syringe in each hand. “Puppies, I want your trainers to be able to go until you beg so…” With that he started a series of small injections where my stalk mated with my abdomen. I didn’t need to be told that this was Alprostadil, a liquid form of any of the anti-ED drugs but with much more control as, in the hands of someone who knew their sexual anatomy, a hard erection was guaranteed. After he’d finished, he leaned against a wall, enjoying our pleasure as each cock rose up, stiffened and slightly increased in girth. Felt great, only wished I could get my hands on it…
The lights in the room lowered and, as I’d suspected, the very small lights appeared in the ceiling as well as music that focused on rhythm rather than tune. My first ejaculation was immense, not as large as Sam had got from me but exquisitely satisfying. I wished I could reach out and hold his hand. The edging, because I’d shot so big, was rattling, harsh, making me fight against the restraints, make me sorry I hadn’t ask for more, heavier…I wondered if Sam was where I was?
The second time lacked the volume but was more deeply intense, I could feel it coming in my abdomen, wished I had a cock up me, tried not to thrash my head but I was lost in the pain and the pleasure. After the second my body collapsed while still responding to the pressure and the demand for more milk, for more rigidity…my tide was ebbing.

Fisting is an art. Some believe it’s a group activity best done with a group of guys, a hammock, men up and ready to have their asses invaded and, for them, that’s great. Sam had taught me two things, some activities are more enjoyed publicly and some are more intimate, best shared with a very few people in a quiet surrounding: Mars was clearly of this later persuasion and it worked perfectly. I’d lost my sense of pleasure as it was all pleasure. Click knew how to give a suck job, how to work the corona, how to lick the head…..he knew it all. 

I felt calm hands on my head, locks were clicked, I was released, moved to a seat over which a warm shower flowed. Sam joined me, as knocked out as I was. The water was great, amazingly restorative, we just leaned against each other and closed our eyes. 

Mar’s voice. “Okay guys, ready for round two, something very rare for any men. Dane, you and Sam are going to double fuck Click while I double fist Joey.” He laughed, “Just now you probably think you couldn’t get it up but….leave it to me. The pups are excited about this and, as you can see, they’ve been bound, gagged, blindfolded, they are on stationary blocks so whatever we do to them they must accept. This is only the second time for them and, if you look, they’re dripping with anticipation.” He slid a latch on top of the blocks that supported their bodies, forced their cock and balls into it then closed it, sealed it with some sort of goo then with a large, heavy steel cock ring, locked them down. Where they were was where they’d stay. 

Mars, somehow, got Sam and me on the platform behind Click and, just at that moment, that seemed…enough. I didn’t know about our fuckee, but this fucker was bushwhacked. I heard a voice..
“Big Stick.” That went in my butt and another for Sam. I could almost see Sam standing behind us, grinning, waiting for whatever he shot us up with to take hold and….slowly, gently, almost overwhelmingly, energy came back, more than energy, a rage to be at something, activity….Sam was on the same track.
“Feeling better….?” Jesus he sounded salacious. I was suddenly ready for anything, almost too much energy. Behind us, Sam was quickly binding us to each other. The huge steel manacles, each weighed ten pounds. Our torsos, side by side, attached to a bar which was half a rack now pulling us forward, making us fight the feel, the pain we knew would come….and finally Sam mounted the stand, took our cocks and drained a syringe each into our cocks which momentarily  were harder than our steel manacles.
Sam was a genius at this form of sexual BDSM. Our mammoth chests were secured and pressed down, our balls were attached to another ring which was drawn down with the racking machine at the other end. Now, so hard and in some pain, he guided each of our dicks to the slit in Click’s put, inserted them then sealed them with a chain. I hoped Joey was getting the same service and pleasure we were. One last thing, two pads with electrical leads were place at the back of our now buried cocks. A switch was thrown, the lights were further dimmed and we were set up to fuck. Electrical, we were given no choice, the pads on our dicks expanded and contracted forcing us, as a team, to go deeper, fuck harder….just fuck.
Double fucking is a matter of spatial arrangement and an agreement between all participants as to how things will go. Not in this case as Mars had choreographed every thing from insertion to making sure we’d fuck-who can fight a machine.”
Who knew what was happening to Joey but his pitiful cries suggested that being double fisted wasn’t to his taste. 

And then that part was over. Almost. “Gotta thank you, Gentleman, got it all on video and that’s about as hot as it gets. Oh, remember I mentioned you’d have to whips the pups when it was all over but….I thought it over and why shouldn’t I whip you. It’s something I know you like to do to each other so how much better to feel the hand of a friend, a friend who wants to hurt you…and will
He was using two bull whips, one in each hand so that each lash caught both Sam and me evenly. There weren’t many, perhaps a dozen but it was, and I realized it, the absolute perfect way to end this session. Sam, and I were released, helped to a massive tub with swirling water while he went back for Joey and Click. All once afloat, we bobbled like part of us had come unstuffed. Sam, last in, just smiled and said only that we hoped he’d enjoyed our visit to his home and we’d stay on for a few days. All I could think was just now even going to the show seemed a poor idea but, obviously I had to go.
Sam and I leaned against each other, kissed not with too much emotion, but to assure each other we’d survived.

“Are you two going to be up to get us there tonight?” I felt I should lift Click’s head by the hair to see if he was living. ” No prob…Mars will have all of us up..” He winked. I looked Mars.
“Would an officer of the law lie? Oh yeah, we’ll all be there, no trouble, my pleasure and when we get home…I’ll bring someone with me whom I know and you each get a cop to train….” Jesus that man had a range of smiles.

Hours later, amazingly refreshed, we were ready to head for town and the dance hall to see the new show. Click and Joey were completely refreshed, had returned them to wherever they lived, gone home and changed. Mars, as an official guest-why I have no idea-could walk in the front door so that left Sam and me. I elected to go casual, as did he, boots, jock, jeans, long sleeve shirt-hoodie for winter and my cowboy hate. Mars had grilled Joey and Click about getting us, and in particular me, in without being noticed. All arranged, he’d talked to some of the guys who were working the show, we were to be at a certain place twenty minutes before show time and they’d get us up and out of the way where we could see and hear everything. Matter of fact, one of Mars, uh, trainees, was in the sound booth so we’d have head sets to listen to everything, could even switch around from the show on the stage to backstage, know what was going on.

Was I calm? No. After the show I’d have to appear and I sincerely hoped there would be enough distraction to make it a quick hello, hugs, and goodbye. My Dad….maybe I’d go by his hotel later but just then and with Sam’s support, I could not face Heck and have the conversation we needed to have. 

Mars made a good, simple dinner then handed each of us what amounted to a lunch pail with some sandwiches and a couple of bottles of beer should we feel peckish. And then there was nothing left but to sit the few minutes and wait….
Click came in a way I wasn’t aware of-Mars house was a maze of fascination and wonder no matter how well you knew and said, it was time, follow him. Outside were three identical pickups, amazingly dented, bashed in and smashed precisely alike. They were, I was told, on loan from the LVPD, compliments of the Captain, who DID understand the situation. Seems he remembered me and Britt at the Bellagio some years earlier and the chaos there. Happy to do this little favor.
I was in one pickup, Sam in another and two men who vaguely looked like us were in the third. It was a long drive downtown; I wanted Sam beside me, to take my nerves or take me…
After a puzzling drive through down town, we wound up in an alley crammed with trucks clearly there for that night only. A door opened, Sam and I were led into an almost lightless hall way then shown a staircase, of the spiral metal variety, and told to just keep going up. Okay, I can do that. Eventually we ended up on a wide, wooden set of planks, in the middle of which, and about fifty yards from us was the sound booth. Ozzie, Mar’s friend was at the door and got us to a pair of chairs on the platform next to the booth. You couldn’t have had better seats. See everything and, with the head phones, perfect clarity, so not one word missed. Ozzie apologized but had to get back, they were already sequencing for the preamble and then the overture.
They were comfortable chairs, let you lean back giving us nothing to do but wait.

The lights were gradually going down, the empty stage lost all light and, somewhere in the miles of electrical cabling and speakers sound. A small drum, barely perceptible but growing, joined by a woodwind, no tune just something every martial, the house lights were out, it was quiet, from where were I was I could see the scrim dropped in and, behind it, the set up, simple as it was, for the first act. More music, more compelling then on the stroke of Nine, there was a blast of music, came from every speaker, the scrim became an American Flag slowly waving and the torrent of music rushed by. It was a reworking of Morton Gould’s American Salute, or his version of When Johnny Comes Marching Home but hardly the folk song it once was. You could almost hear the churning of steam train wheels, the dynamic rises and falls. It had been reworked, had about two minutes added which I had suggested but didn’t know it had been done. The scrim los the flag went to camouflage and, as the music stopped so suddenly, people at the tables almost lurched forward, the stage was lit showing an icon of American art. The very simply boots, rifle and helmet of a dead soldier. At the back a man came on, puzzled, looking barely clad but with a goal. It was Lannie and I knew what he would do…just…how would it be received? Some in the audience must have wondered, based on the publicity, if they were in the right place.
Lannie, on his knees, crawling, reached the small, sad place and put a hand on it. But then his strength showed as he grabbed the rifle, jumped up and began the incredibly difficult rifle spin, so fast through most of it, you couldn’t even see the rifle. His face was so fixated, the gun went so high-I’d never seen him throw it almost thirty feet in the air and still make the perfect catch…and on the last throw, it flew back in the set piece it had been in, Lannie’s hand still on the stock but he lay on the stage….Lights out.
The audience wasn’t exactly sitting on their hands. Roars, cheers, applause, whistles, some Marine HooRah’s…If it wasn’t the typical opening for a nudey cutey show, it was a helluva an opening plus backed with Gould piece…the show shot on. Next was a much lighter piece, gleaned from an old 20th Century Fox film and originally performed by Ethel Merman and Mitzi Gaynor. In their version, which was slightly burlesque, the song is about whether a sailor is a sailor until a sailor’s been tattooed.
Lights up to reveal two guys wearing…almost nothing in a barracks discussing going out to get some ink. In a departure from what would be real, sailors and Marines, the two most inked services were involved until there were eight guys throwing off their clothes challenging whomever to get one there and singing along. The pay off was a guy busting through a door, stark naked but covered with so much ink you couldn’t tell.
I could sense that the audience was ‘with it’ the few who might have been concerned about coming to “this kind of show’ if not placated, were relaxing into it…..

…..Two hours later Heck, naked save his gold cowboy boots and hat, was on top of Ram who was beating the air with his hooves. And that was it. Lights out, huge wave of applause, people standing so fast there were noises of things going thud, glass breaking but above all,  the enormous success that started in a barber shop in Amarillo and moved to a Tack Room on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.

Sam had been digging for seven days, wouldn’t let anyone help him, took his sleeping bag, had a well dug…and kept digging. It’s easy to dig a hole in the ground but less so when there are parameters needed. This wasn’t a hole, it was a rectangle ten by ten by ten with one end sloped up to the surface. He looked up and could see the wranglers working on the board walk that would lead to side of the hole, a place for people to stand respectfully and wait. The show was dark the next day so a cargo plane had been chartered and everyone from the show would be there. All the people who should be there…he stopped, looked up at the winter sun, pale, lacking interest in human affairs, not even causing the grass to bend down.
He threw the shovel into the ground, walked up the slope, got in a truck and drove away. He’d be back, they’d all be back, tomorrow.
He was screaming every word he knew, crying and screaming, he could not go back to that house to the man in it…he would stay in the truck and fuck ’em if he was dirty. That’s how he was a dirty man.

They all parked at some distance then walked the catwalk until they were standing beside the hole in the ground. Silent, somber, nothing to say. There was the sound of a horse walking slowly and, if they could make themselves look, there was a horse, a black stallion moving slowly toward the slope, down it. Heck held the reins and could almost not bear the next duty. Once before he’d seen Dane over Ram’s back, so tired he’d shot crimped bottle caps at him to wake him. Now his naked body, tied to Ram would never respond to Heck or Sam or his Father or all the men whom he’d loved, helped. He was dead. Sam took the body, held it in his arms while Heck led Ram, who didn’t seem to want to leave, away

Heck and Sam took the body between them, laid in on the ground then they, too, walked up the slope. All the men on the catwalk shuffled away, down the thousand feet of it to where their trucks and cars were. The hole with Dane was behind them, no one looked back as he could not now look forward.

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

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Summers were always hard for Zane, he is what you call a thinker- spends most of his days in his head, and the summer only provided too much free time for him to think. Thinking too much always played on his emotions and as strong as he presented himself outwardly, inwardly he was rippled with insecurities.

Taj , a slim figured, 5”10 guy, with an impressive 8” dick, came to spend the holidays with his sister-she was married to Zane’s first cousin, that was the only measure of blood relativity between Taj and Zane so they called each other cousins, well Taj, not so much Zane. Taj is gay and he knew about Zane being gay, because Taj’s boyfriend (before this moment in the story) was flirting with Zane too, so you can pretty much guess how that turned out.

Taj went home for the weekend, and on Saturday called Zane about something he wanted to share with him…and that was the night that sealed Shain in Zane’s heart. Taj called:
“Hey”
“Hey, What’s up?”
“Well there’s this guy that I’ve been texting for the passed couple of days”
“hmmmhm”
“I think I like him…I wanna let you talk over the phone and you can feel him out for me and tell me what you think”

Apart of Zane’s commanding ora, was his ability to interrogate people. Asking them questions and making sure the truth was the answer, he would ask ‘when did you last go to the beach?’ and fifteen questions down the line, he would ask the same question just to make sure the answers match. This worked well, most of the time, especially for friends and for people he didn’t trust.

“okay go a head and connect him”
“great! his name is Shain, you should know him”
‘This mother fucker!’ Zane thought “okay just connect the guy’’
Shain was connected and Taj spoke first
Taj:  “ Hey, um! Shain, I have someone else on the line, his name is Zane you two should know each other”
Shain: “oh! Hey Zane”
Zane: “Hey”
Taj: “so I’m gonna take a shower, I’ll be back in 15”
Shain & Zane:  “ok Kool”

Shain and Zane stayed connected speaking about sports, tv shows, school and fun and all the things that they could cover, Zane was so lost into talking to Shain that he completely forgot the reason he was on the call. Soon after, Taj rejoined the conversation and it became awkwardly silent. Taj interjected…

“excuse me y’all I’m gonna do something and come back”

Ignoring him Zane started to sing in head voice, forgetting that Shain would be listening on the other end of the call…

“You can sing?” Shain said with shock in his voice
“Yes I can, I’m in the choir remember?” Zane chuckled mockingly
“ohhh yea, true, I forgot, You sound really Good” Shain commented
“thanks” Zane blushed, thankfully he couldn’t see.
Their conversation  went on for another 20 minutes, Zane still forgetting the reason he was on the call, this time Shain was the one leaving.
“when he comes back tell him I’m taking a shower” Shain spoke out
“okay” Zane huffed.
After about 2 minutes of air silence Taj reconnected
“Hello! anybody here?”
“Yes I’m here” Zane announced “Shain said he’s taking a shower”
“Okay I was talking to someone” Taj said
“kool”
“Yea, I was talking to this guy I like”
“I thought you liked Shain”
“Yea I do but-“
“you a hoe” Zane interrupted
“True” Taj laughed
The call ended at around two in the morning, with Taj telling Zane that he’s coming back to his house the following Monday, Zane and Shain had more moments on the call to talk but not in a away that seemed interrogative, it was fun.
Tuesday…. Zane was especially horny today, all day he’s been fighting his urge for sex and his feelings never contributed to it, Taj’s had added him to a group on WhatsApp…
Ugh! How he hated groups…
Group chats always seemed to be filled with people that had nothing else to do but to text and have full open conversations, not including the rest of the persons in the Group. Another aspect of the Group were the silly little activities and things they would suggest.
Taj and Shain’s relationship/friendship seemed to be progressing well, they spent more time together- Shain had family in the neighborhood whom he was spending the summer with… Taj would visit him and they’d spend hours together. That was okay right?, beside Taj at the time never indicated whether he and Shain were mutually in a relationship.
Message from the group: “I dear you and Zane to kiss”
“lay down” Zane commanded after Taj’s first attempt to kiss him was challenged by height.
Zane straddled his body , leaned down and kissed Taj’s plumped, turgid lips, deeply, sending his nerve pulses on over drive, and his dick instantly began to harden. Zane felt the rigid tool under him, pulsating, throbbing, and his desire to fuck was heightened and separated by their clothing.
“damn I’ve never been kissed like this” Taj whispered between kisses, which Zane ignored.
His aim was on this heated flesh pressing against his ass. Straddled on top of Taj, Zane grinded his hips, rotating his ass in circles onto the hard pole under him. His body shivered with need. How can you need something you’ve never had like this ?

Lost in his own desires, Taj quickly flipped Zane on his back, lifted Zane’s legs to his chest and directed is hard dick to Zane’s hole. What the fuck was this? Dry humping? Shit, why the fuck does sex exists? When you could just dry hump!!… Zane’s chain of thoughts were clouded with the need for sex, Taj was jabbing his cock directly at his hole, through clothing that separated it, sliding and grinding, back and forth on the material that separated their act of lust. Meanwhile, their lips did the dance of love, this kiss turned from a peck to full on passion. Taj encased his lips over Zane’s,  and pulled hard….damn that hurt. Then moved down to Zane’s neck, in that moment Zane’s eyes saw the back of his head, the neck was his trigger, his kryptonite, the golden ticket to his virgin ass, his ex (Antonio) came close to being his first, but he fucked up a good thing by cheating-damn! He could kiss too…

Zane was about to say it, but Taj beat him to it… “I wanna fuck you”

*knock*
*knock*
*knock*

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Thanks so much for reading and taking part in my new found journey writing of erotica stories. As I embark on this journey your reviews would be well appreciated, so send me an email at: [email protected] or leave a comment and I will respond. Zane…

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

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The man stood up and leaned back against the kitchen counter. He crossed his arms and chuckled. “What’s the matter big boy? Embarrassed? It’s obvious how ashamed you feel to be tied up and stroked by another man.”

Brett’s face was now flushed with anger as well as humiliation. “God damn it, when I get out of this chair I swear…” He wriggled with all his might, his athletic body straining against the bonds holding him to the chair. He roared wordlessly like a chained beast, demonstrating an almost animal rage at being held captive.

“Yeah, get pissed off. It’ll just make this go by quicker if you give in to your emotions. In fact, I bet I don’t even have to stroke you for you to get hard. I’ll just stand here and watch.” The man pulled up a chair, sat down, and propped his legs up on the kitchen table. He smiled mischievously and winked at Brett.

Brett looked down at his cock. He had always been a grower, his cock thick but a short 2 ½ inches soft. It protruded from his body, hanging over his balls limply and glistening in the moonlight from the lube’s remaining residue. The head rested gently on the seat of the chair. In that moment his anger, fear, and humiliation all swirled together in his head. “You think I’m going to get hard by just sitting here? No way!”

The man didn’t flinch. Though most of his face was covered by the ski mask, the man’s eyes shone, looking straight into Brett’s. “You will get hard. It won’t take long, trust me. The more you try to fight it the harder it will get. It’s got to be terribly humiliating to be a grown man exposed and getting an erection against your will in front of another man.”

“Fuck you!” Brett yelled. Though the anger was hot, a chill went through his body. He glanced at the oven timer in desperation – 26:10. It was in this moment that the perfect storm of rage and humiliation sent a signal from his brain down to his cock. With one throb, his cockhead lifted briefly off the seat of the chair before it settled there again.

“Oh ho ho! Look there, I told you it would happen!” The man pointed, laughing as the head of Brett’s cock lifted up again, this time not returning to touch the seat of the chair.

 “No! Fucker, stop laughing at me!” Brett looked down at his dick, which had begun lengthening slowly with every beat of his heart. With each twitch it grew slightly, which made him feel even more humiliated. The shame only fueled his growing erection, and it began to lengthen more rapidly. Brett closed his eyes tightly, tensing his pelvic floor muscles in an attempt to halt the process.

“Yeah, fight it. Fight it with everything you’ve got. It doesn’t matter.” Each word the man said fed Brett’s anger, but it only increased the rate at which his cock was growing. “Fight back against your stubborn cock. Don’t let it win.” Brett continued in his attempt to will his erection to go down, but his dick only continued to grow. It was now half-hard, sticking straight out from his body. The veins along the side were beginning to bulge, pulsing with every beat of his heart. “Please…” he thought.

Brett’s mind briefly drifted back to his high school baseball days when he and his buddies were showering after practice. He had been in the shower with the pitcher and the third baseman. He and the pitcher had been talking as they lathered themselves. They were discussing their most recent female conquests, describing in detail how they had fucked a couple of girls the night before. They noticed the third baseman was facing the wall, as if he were trying to avoid looking at them. Brett and the pitcher grabbed him and spun him around, exposing his rock hard cock covered in soap suds. Both Brett and the pitcher laughed viciously. They pointed to the third baseman’s hard dick, which was happily pointing to the sky despite the tears forming in his eyes. The third baseman’s face turned bright red and he ran out of the shower, his erection swinging heavily side to side.

Brett was brought back to the present moment by a tapping just above his belly button. Looking down, he gasped. His fully erect cock was proudly standing at attention, 8 inches long and thick, touching his abdomen lightly with every throb. The man laughed viciously, just as Brett and his buddy had in the shower so many years ago. “Look at that! What a loser! I thought you might have had a little more self-control than that, but I guess not!” The man jumped out of his seat and applauded mockingly.

“Motherfucker, I’m gonna kill you!” Brett writhed and pulled against the bonds even harder than before, but his efforts were futile. The ropes held tight, and the movements only succeeded in causing Brett’s hard cock to comically swing back and forth in the air. He was reminded again of the third baseman’s dick flopping around as he ran from the shower. Witnessing this, he immediately stopped struggling.

“You getting turned on there, big man?” Brett’s captor bent over and looked him in the eyes, bringing his mask-covered face as close as he could without touching Brett. He whispered. “You getting horned up, boy? Huh? Do you like being taken control of by a man? Maybe you’re not as much of a straight-boy stud as you thought.”

Flames appeared in Brett’s eyes, and with all the force he could conjure he spit in the man’s face. “Fuck you, I’m no faggot!” The man paused before he slowly stood up, turned around, and reached for a paper towel. He wiped his face and scowled. Before Brett realized what was happening, the man suddenly reached down between his legs. He screamed in pain as the man slapped his balls as hard as he could.

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOWWWW!” Brett’s scream echoed through the kitchen. The heavy sting passed through his balls and shot up to his stomach, and he was hit with a wave of nausea. The force of the strike caused Brett’s cock to wag side to side, slinging a web of precum between his thighs.

“Hahahaha!” The man howled in laughter nearly as loud as Brett had screamed. “Look at that fucking precum fly! You’re getting off on this so hard! I’m gonna have you cumming in no time, faggot.” The man snatched the lube off the kitchen counter and squirted some into his palm. “If you ever had any self control, boy, now’s the time to find it.” Brett was just beginning to recover from the slap to his balls when he was suddenly overcome with a wave of pleasure like had never felt. Caught off guard, he let out a loud moan of ecstasy before he even realized what was happening.

“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk…..” Brett’s gaze shot down to his crotch. He watched deliriously as the man gave one long, tight stroke up and down his cock. His eyes rolled back involuntarily as his dick throbbed with approval, giving up a glistening drop of precum. Attempting to regain his senses, Brett blinked quickly and shook his head back and forth. “No, I can’t let the feeling get to me” he thought to himself.

“Did you like that, stud? Did it feel as good as my girlfriend’s pussy did when you lost control and blew your load inside her? When you knocked her up?” The man gave another long stroke with his right hand while he slapped Brett in the face with the other. Brett reeled from the blow, but immediately turned his head back to look the man in the eye. “You son of a bitch, I told you I pulled out! There’s no way I knocked her up!”

The man pretended as if he didn’t hear Brett. He continued stroking Brett’s cock with long, tight strokes. Brett felt the pleasure course from his shaft into his pelvis, but he pushed the feeling back down. The coarseness of his captor’s hand coupled with the softness of the lube were the perfect combination for a mind-blowing handjob. Though Brett continued to reject the pleasure, his cock greedily accepted the intense strokes the man was giving it.

Brett quickly came to a realization – this was a battle. He knew from the start he was competing in a sick game, but he had now realized that the contestants were not who he had initially thought. This was not man versus his captor. Rather, this was a battle of body versus mind. Of a man versus his most prized possession, his best friend, and greatest ally. Simply put, Brett had realized he was fighting a battle against his own cock. His eyes opened wide upon this realization, and he turned his head to look at the clock. 17:30. He had 17 minutes and 30 seconds to resist giving in to a man’s most primal instinct – orgasm and ejaculation.

While Brett’s brain was overanalyzing the situation, his cock was eagerly savoring every stroke the man was giving it. It throbbed forcefully each time the man’s fist slid up and down the long shaft, the head flaring when his hand reached the base. At this point the man began to speed up his strokes, increasing the intensity of the pleasure and catching Brett off guard. Brett gritted his teeth as he attempted to push the pleasure back down, but it was rising despite his best efforts. His cock was harder than it had ever been in his entire life, and despite not wanting to admit it to himself he was ridiculously turned on. This was the hottest, most erotic, and yet most horrifying experience of his life.

“Getting close yet, faggot?” The man stared directly into Brett’s eyes again, seeing confusing mixture of anger, pleasure, panic, and shame. He continued to stroke Brett’s cock without breaking eye contact. “You’d better hold it. Remember what’s at stake buddy?”

Brett had almost forgotten that the loss of this battle had consequences. The images of his mom and dad’s faces flashed in through his mind, and for a moment he regained composure. “You won’t make me cum motherfucker, I’ll never let you hurt my parents!”

With renewed resolve to fight back against his captor, Brett closed his eyes and forced his mind to focus on something – anything – other than the relentless assault on his cock. He directed his thoughts toward the most non-sexual things he could come up with. He conjured memories of hunting with his uncle, the bus ride to the state championship in high school, playing beer pong with his fraternity bros in college. He took his mind as far away from that kitchen as he possibly could.

The man noticed that Brett had been oddly quiet for the last couple of minutes. Brett had been ignoring the man’s shaming taunts intended to play to his vulnerability and to drive him over the edge. Upon noticing Brett’s disconnection from the situation, the man lifted his eyes from Brett’s crotch. He chuckled softly to himself. “He thinks he can tune me out and win this, does he? We’ll see about that…”

The man returned his eyes to Brett’s dick. It had lost the steely hardness it had a few short minutes ago, settling into a semi-erection. His cock was a clear indicator of the inner struggle Brett was fighting in his mind. The manual stimulation and shaming taunts of the man were feeding his cock’s hunger for pleasure while Brett’s sheer willpower was keeping the building orgasm at bay. The man’s smug expression turned to one of anger as he realized Brett was gaining the upper hand. He turned and looked at the clock – 9:05.

The man clenched his hand tight, rared back and sunk his fist with all his might into Brett’s abdomen. Brett’s eyes flew open as his abs greeted the man’s fist and he burst out with a loud cry. “UUGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Brett reeled from the gut punch, feeling the pain and nausea shoot through his abdomen. His concentration was immediately broken. Brett swallowed hard, keeping the contents of his stomach from spewing forth and choking off any further vocalizations that would indicate he was in pain. “Goddammit…” he croaked. Brett’s cock was nearly flaccid again, though it remained purplish-red as a result of the man’s rough hands stroking it relentlessly.

The man laughed. “Nice one, bro! You think you can keep that cock from blowing just by tuning me out? You’ll have to come up with something more clever than that.”

“Fuck you, cocksucker! I control my dick, not you! I’m not afraid anymore, and I’m going to win your fucking game.” Brett was now the one with the smirk. Noticing only 8 minutes remained on the clock he knew he could overcome the man’s assault.

“Cocksucker? Me?” The man scowled in disgust. “I’m not the faggot here, bud. You’re the one who’s getting off on being stroked by another man.” He paused for a moment before he spoke again. “I’ll give it to you though, you’re fighting back harder than I expected. I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve though.”

Brett was feeling confident, even cocky. Now that he had shed his shame and fear, he would no doubt get through the next 8 minutes, be released from his bonds, and take the Louisville Slugger to the man’s skull. “Bring it on, bastard.”

The man shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” He reached into the bag and pulled his hand out, revealing Brett’s worst nightmare. It was a magic wand vibrator, almost identical to the one his ex-girlfriend had. Nearly exactly like the one that, when applied to her clit, ripped an orgasm out of her like he had never seen before. Except this one appeared slightly different. Attached to the knob end of the vibrator was an odd rubbery piece, shaped like a cylinder. It appeared to be perfectly shaped to fit snugly over a man’s… “No…” Brett whispered as the man fingered the sleeve, coating the inside with lube.

“They call this thing a ‘magic wand’. You want to know why?” Brett stared at the man silently. “It’s a vibrator so strong, so intense, that the pleasure it gives you is magical. Magical enough to make even a cocky asshole like you blow his wad faster than a 14-year-old boy. Allow me to demonstrate.” The man lowered the wand, ignoring the sleeve attachment and placing the knob of the wand on the underside of Brett’s soft cock. Brett’s dick drooped over the knob lazily.

Brett squeezed his eyes tightly and held his breath as the man flipped the switch to the “down” position. The room filled with a combination of a loud buzzing sound and Brett’s involuntary moans. Brett watched helplessly as his cock immediately started to grow, stimulated by the intense vibrations. No amount of effort to redirect his thoughts could overcome his cock’s instinctual response to sexual pleasure. In a matter of seconds his cock was harder than it had been at any point that evening. The man turned off the vibrator and stared at his handiwork. “Pathetic.”

“Not fair! You said a handjob!” The man laughed. “Oops. My game, my rules. Forgot to mention that.” The man flipped the wand over and slid the sleeve attachment over Brett’s rigid dick. Even the stimulation from the attachment sent a chill down his spine. The man glanced at the clock – 4:50. “You think that was intense? Just wait for this – I won’t even need four more minutes to make your cock blow.”

Then it hit him. The low hum of the vibrator began again, and Brett’s cock was assaulted with the most intense pleasure that he had ever experienced in his life. His cock immediately tensed, and Brett felt his cum racing toward the bottom of his shaft before he even realized what was happening. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” He screamed, quickly clenching every muscle in his pubic area. He felt the building of his orgasm halt and the rising heat of the cum subside a bit. He had barely caught it before his load came blasting out at light speed.

“Nice catch!” the man shouted. “Now comes the fun part. Watching you fight that feeling. Watching you fight back against the inevitable orgasm that is going to slowly overtake you.” Brett refused to give in, but he knew that he was fighting a losing battle. It was only a matter of time before he lost control. His only chance was to stave off the inevitable until the timer hit zero. Glancing over once more, Brett read the clock aloud between stifling moans. “Two minutes and forty-five seconds.”

With each second the man’s maniacal grin grew wider. “Yeah, give in to the pleasure. Just let it happen. Feels so good, doesn’t it? You know you want to blow that load. You may lose your parents, but it will be the most amazing orgasm you’ll ever have. Is it worth it?”

“No, fuck you!” Brett said defiantly. Nonverbally, Brett’s cock said otherwise. His dick had grown harder and thicker than it had ever been, pulsing with every rapid beat of his heart. Precum drooled out of his cock, flowing down the side of the sleeve and pooling between his legs on the seat of the chair. Brett began feeling the familiar heat of orgasm building in his balls. “Fuck, it’s coming… I’ve gotta do something!” He looked at the clock again – 1:05. “Just one more minute.” Brett clenched his muscles again, his six pack looking defined and taut in the moonlight. The orgasm was at bay, but barely. He had to hold on for one more minute. Just one more minute.

Brett didn’t notice as the man reached down toward the vibrator. His eyes were closed in an effort to resist the building orgasm, to avoid going over the edge and passing the point of no return. He didn’t notice that the man was about to flip the switch the other way. 00:45

*Click*

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” With the flip of the switch the intensity of the vibrations increased. Taken off guard, it was too late for Brett to fight back. His cock twitched hard as he ripped past the edge and hit the point of no return. His cock had betrayed him – it had chosen the ultimate pleasure of orgasm over the wishes of its owner. The orgasm overtook Brett’s whole body as he screamed in anger and rapture. His cock bucked as it blasted rope after rope of steaming hot cum across the room. The cum landed heavily on the kitchen floor and sizzled as it settled. The shame of losing control of his own body added to the pleasure of the most intense orgasm Brett had ever experienced. The man roared with laughter at watching Brett’s failure. The clock began to beep. 00:00

As the ecstasy of Brett’s forced orgasm subsided, tears began to run down his face. “Please don’t hurt my parents. Please…” he sobbed.

“It’s not me who sacrificed your parents. It’s YOU. YOU are the one who couldn’t control yourself. YOU are the one who allowed your cock to take over. This is your fault.”

Brett sobbed harder. He felt pathetic. He looked down at his cum-covered cock. It was still hard and throbbing despite having shot with the force of a cannon. The betrayal of his prized possession – his cock – would lead to his parents’ bitter end. The shame of Brett’s failure was even hotter than he ever could have imagined. “Please…”

The man scooped up Brett’s cum from the kitchen floor. It had cooled a bit but was still warm from having churned in Brett’s balls for so long. He smeared the cum all over Brett’s face and kicked the chair over. Brett went tumbling to the floor, his hard cock slinging cum all over the rest of his body. Lying on his side, Brett looked down to see his unfaithful cum dripping through the matted hair on his chest.

“Good luck, loser. Hope somebody finds you in the next couple of days.” As the man walked out the door, Brett screamed wordlessly one last time. The only noise Brett would hear for the next two days would be the sound of the oven timer beeping. It flashed 00:00, over and over, mocking Brett for his monumental failure as a man.

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I had arrived in Houston early that day. It was very hot as it usually is that time of year. I was at work early too but finished about 4pm and headed to my hotel. I had a hot shower and made sure I was totally smooth all over, using a razor I had with me to remove any hairs left on my body. I then used a cream I like to moisturise my body, legs, arms et al.

I then chose my lingerie. I had a few to choose from but settled for a pink lace bra and matching panties. No tights or stockings required so the suspender belts I had with me could wait till I got back to New York.

My makeup was next. I spent a while doing this, including falsh eyelashes which define my look, which is very convincing and well worth the effort. I used a red lipstick and an expensive perfume which guys just love…I brushed my long curly reddish hued hair to how I like it, attached my earrings( big hoop earrings this time), my necklace and a bracelet; plus a silver belly stud …

I had chosen a dress to wear–a red mini dress with a low neck showing my curves off well. I put this on, zipping it up at the back, then put on a pair of 4 inch strappy heels…I admired myself in the mirror and knew I would wow the guys tonight.

By this time it was 6 o’clock and I felt hungry. I grabbed my handbag, making sure I had necessary makeup in it, plus perfume and cards. And 3 packs of condoms, just in case…Phone and other essentials like cash too.

I headed for the lift and came out into the hotel foyer feeling refreshed and ready for anything( if only I knew..!)

There was a restaurant within 100 yards of my hotel and I walked there. There was fortunately a light breeze which helped to cool me down, swishing under my short hem too..I sat at the bar in the restaurant , ordered a glass of wine, and checked the food menu while waiting to be allocated a table. The bar was busy and i was pleased to receive a lot of admiring looks from various men. After about 10 minutes I went to my table where I placed n order for a light pasta dish and salad. Plus another white wine..

I considered where I would go after eating. I had pinpointed a few places but chose a bar a taxi ride away . I hadn’t been there before but it sounded busy and with lots of action. It was a friday night so should be busier than on a weekday too.

Suitably replenished I looked around the restaurant while waiting for my taxi. A tall guy came up and left me a note and walked off. I didn’t know him but his note said” if you are interested I have a 9 inch cock and it’s all yours–phone me “, and gave his number.

I decided to save that till later and headed off to my chosen bar. I paid for my cab and walked in to the bar which was indeed busy with lots of other girls there. I sat at the bar on a stool and ordered a bottle of beer. Sitting there nursing my beer and looking around , a woman with long brown hair sat beside me and started to chat me up, saying I was beautiful and she really fancied me…She had her hand on my left leg and started rubbing it gently as we conversed. I was a bit taken aback , wondering what to do. She clearly thought I was a real girl and might not take too kindly if I confessed..

But she was persistent and wanted me to go to her apartment so I eventually told her. She was OK about it but clearly wanted a lesbian lover and moved away–she was a lawyer with a large Oil -services company.

Later I was pleased to see she had found another girl to be with and mouthed “thanks” to me as they headed off. I noticed there was a pool table in the bar and I moved over to try my hand at pool. By this time I had realised i had stumbled upon a lesbian bar but stayed for a while to see what happened. As I stood at the pool table a young fairly stocky but good looking girl asked me to play with her. I had played before but wasn’t much use at pool. But I tried and was thrashed by her–she was too good. But it got us talking–her name was Alice. She was wearing a denim mini skirt and black ankle boots and had a huge pair of tits. It became clear she liked to dominate, and, although I made it clear I was a TV she said she wanted my ass..

After 3 more drinks I was getting tipsy and agreed to go back with her to her place. She was all over me in the taxi to her place. Her hands were inside my panties and I felt her fingers penetrating my pussy and making me very wet and horny. She kissed me passionately as she did this. I lifted her skirt up a bit and put my hand inside her white lace panties. she was sopping wet and eager and I rubbed her clit gently…

But we got to her apartment and she virtually carried me to the door, telling me I was her bitch and she would fuck me all night…As a submissive girl I was happy with this and told her I would do anything she wanted.

She carried me into her apartment and threw me roughly onto a couch, my legs splaying, my dress rucked up and showing my pink lace panties. She started to kiss me again, ripping off my panties as she did so. My dress was unzipped and fell to the floor, and in just bra and heels moved under her as she strapped on a penis, lubed my pussy and entered me . She proceeded to fuck me roughly . Her strap-on was massive and very wide and I loved it, screaming and squeeling as she rode me hard. This went on for over half an hour before she turned me round, told me to push my ass in the air. She gripped my tits and pushed her cock in to me again and fucked me hard again for about 20 more minutes.

At that I let out a cry of ecstasy and came in torrents, over her panties and legs. I was rubbing he r clit hard and fast by this time and it was not long before she too came with a great cry of pleasure. We lay thee for some time, me resting against her with her right arm round me..

She smiled at me and asked me to stay the night and I agreed to this despite not having clean bra and panties for next day. but she had a lace nightie which fitted me well and I put this on after showering, getting into bed waiting for her to join me. And looking forward to being fucked all night by new found lover…

And then, maybe next night I would call they guy who left me his number…

I did a double take that I’m sure Rex noticed when I saw him at the back of the group of mourners standing on the other side of Patrick’s coffin. It still was suspended on the lift, not yet lowered into the Oak Park cemetery grave. Rex was staring straight at me. He was a tall man, standing a full head over the other mourners, elegantly dressed, as always, in an impeccably cut black cashmere overcoat. There had been some graying at his temples over the last eight years, but his wavy, black hair was still luxuriant and he was still a handsome man, when all of his individually strong features were considered together. He was still able to cause a chill to go down my spine—and something else to twitch—even after all these years.

He was looking at me with a half smile on his lips and a question in his eyes. He had always been so sure of himself. He seemed now not to be so sure, though. There was, of course, every reason why he shouldn’t be.

Seeing him in the crowd across the grave wasn’t my first double take. That had been when I didn’t see him right beside the grave, sitting there, functioning as Patrick’s partner. I’d been surprised to see a fair-haired woman in the chair, her face nearly hidden in a handkerchief, her arms enclosing young children on both sides of her. The boy couldn’t have been over seven, the girl five or so. That would be the right timing—assuming that Patrick and Rex had broken it off soon after Rex had broken it off with me to go with Patrick.

Patrick and I had been classmates in college—Patrick in architecture and I in political science. We’d been inseparable in graduate school at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. That was us—wherever you saw Patrick, you could be sure that Ned was around somewhere too. Ned—that’s me. There hadn’t been anything sexual between us there, although we both knew we were gay. We just wanted the same thing. The “same thing” turned out to have been Rex Helgerson.

Patrick and I weren’t shy about our preferences those days. We cruised together on the Baltimore, Annapolis, and Washington, D.C., gay scenes. We let tops hunt us together—we were both too good-looking and narcissistic to do the hunting—and we often went together with other guys and lay side by side on motel room beds while other guys covered, penetrated, and pumped us. We’d hold hands and smile at each other—even sometimes kiss—while there’d be a guy on top of each of us, working hard to get inside us as deep as he could and to find a release there—maybe even competing with the other guy on who could last longer or pull the deepest moans from one of us.

So, I guess you could say our relationship was sexual. But it was unusual.

Rex Helgerson, a Harvard lawyer, was a hotshot Washington lobbyist for the oil industry, then in his mid-forties and teaching a class in the political science department at Johns Hopkins. He was a bigger-than-life Texan, complete with cowboy boots and ten-gallon hat and all the confidence and arrogance in the world, with all the justification to be so. I took his class, and from the first day he was zeroing in on me with attention. We hit it off in class and I found myself drifting into going back to his temporary office in the faculty building after class to shoot the bull with him on politics, the life of a lobbyist, and, eventually, more personal topics.

No, I didn’t have a girlfriend. No, he wasn’t married. This led to the why of that, and it was Rex who first admitted that he was gay. When he did that, I found that, to maintain trust, I had to admit it too.

“I knew that. I’d seen you at Club O in Washington before I’d seen you here at the university,” he’d said.

I was embarrassed and looked away.

“You were with another young guy.”

“My roommate here, Patrick,” I said. “We’re not together, though. We’re not a couple.”

“Meaning you’re both bottoms—submissive bottoms?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“I figured as much. I top.”

I let that sink in.

“I saw the two of you leave the club with two men,” he continued.

I didn’t say anything.

“They were older men—maybe as old as me. You like going with older men?”

“They’re fine,” I said. It was a declaration that he would be fine too, and he understood it as such. He put a strong-fingered hand on my thigh, above my knee, and squeezed. It was slightly painful, and I was forced to look down at it, but I made no effort to move out of his grip.

“My name is Rex Helgerson,” he said, and he said it in such a way as to elicit the same information from me.

“I’m Ned. Ned Wilson,” I answered.

“I’m forty-five, work in oil, and am not too old to get it up. And when it’s up, it’s a challenge, I’ve been told.”

“I’m a student—at Johns Hopkins. In political science,” I answered. I had no delusions about where this was headed. He was a real stud, so I didn’t mind, although I was a little embarrassed with how direct he was being.

“Now presumably over eighteen.”

“Yes.”

“So, not one of those child prodigies. It’s always best to check these days.” I guess I knew where he was headed with this at this point. “And available?” he added.

“Yes, I’m available.”

“I want to fuck you,” he said. “Would you go with a man like me?”

“Yes,” I answered, breathlessly. Of course I’d go with a charismatic man like him. He was a god to me.

“Would you go with two men, if one of them was me?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

“I’m a challenging lover. I’d give you quite a ride. I’m built big.”

My groan didn’t dissuade him from continuing. He was a lobbyist. He knew the art of being persuasive without mincing words. I don’t know the particular time he’d seen me leave a gay club in Washington with a man, but, knowing the men I’d gone with, he obviously knew that I wanted to be dominated and would take it rough. He seemed to know intuitively that I liked being manhandled by built men.

He fucked me then, in his office, after he’d unzipped and put me on my knees between his thighs. And I let him. I was to find that he liked exotic and challenging positions. He fucked me, him standing, and me backed up to a side wall, shielded from the window in his office door by a bookcase and out of range of his window to the outside as well, with my arms around his neck and my knees hooked on his hips. He hadn’t lied about being big. He was big enough to take me in long, swift, deep thrusts without dislodging even in this position. It was all business and heat that first time. We didn’t kiss or whisper sweet nothings to each other. He just showed me that he had a big cock, a power thrust, and stamina. He also showed me that he had a pile of condoms, a bottle of lube, and tidy wipes in the center drawer of his desk. This had been no rare occurrence in his office. No one has fucked me like he did, and can, either before or since.

Afterward we sat quietly at this desk again, and he told me he wanted to do me again sometime soon. I said yes.

“I have to go over to Annapolis this weekend—on lobbying business. I’d like you to go with me. There’s a Maryland senator there, a handsome man, I assure you. I’ll be honest with you. I’ve told him I’d set him up in a threesome with a delicious young man like you for a favor from him. This is what lobbying is all about, Jeremy. You’re being introduced to the reality of politics. Are you interested?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I knew; I just didn’t want to give in that easily, in spite of the irony that I’d just given in to him easily.

“Have you been in a threesome before? You have, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Will you come with me to a hotel now? Will you give yourself to me again tonight and decide on Annapolis later?”

He fucked the stuffing out of me in a Baltimore hotel room. He didn’t lie about being challenging, even in a hotel room. He didn’t always use the hotel bed. He was a large man in every way and was powerful and controlling. And he was athletic, especially so for a man his age. I found that his use of exotic, taxing positions hadn’t been a fluke dictated by the limitations of his university office. I’d told him I’d been a gymnast through my undergraduate days, and he put that to the test. If there had been a chandelier in the hotel room, he would have fucked me swinging from it. As it was, he used every surface of the room to stretch me out on or bend me over. He fucked me hard, thick, and deep—repetitively through the night.

I had told him I’d go to the hotel room with him. I didn’t know that meant I’d be used repeatedly through the night. I was. But he made me feel desirable—and that I’d moved up in the hook-up leagues.

Intuitively, he seemed to know that I liked being used hard and exotically. And he was right.

In the wee hours of the morning, he whispered in my ear, “Will you come to Annapolis with me and participate in the fine art of lobbying?”

When I answered “yes,” he pulled me over on top of him, laced his arms under my pits, trapping my arms above my head, with me grabbing the rim of the headboard; spread my legs with his knees; found my well-reamed hole with his cock head; thrust inside me; and power fucked me to heaven again.

He made me feel like a high-class rent-boy, which was an exhilarating feeling. That’s probably why I let him pimp me from the very beginning.

The Maryland State senator’s name was Mark Macefield. He was a good-looking, robust redhead and a phenomenon in Maryland, as he was a popular legislator there even though he openly declared that he was gay. He just didn’t normally flaunt it.

He did flaunt it that weekend, though. He took Rex and me out on the Chesapeake Bay in a slick yacht, and they divided their time between fishing, eating, jawing about the oil business and what each could do for the other, and fucking me. I rather think they spent an inordinate amount of time fucking me—but I enjoyed it. They certainly said they did. It wasn’t until late Sunday night that they doubled me, which was quite a challenge, but I managed it.

The state senator said that we—he and I—should stay in touch as Rex and I were leaving Sunday evening to go back to Baltimore, and he must have meant it, because three years later when he won a U.S. House seat, he took me to Washington, D.C., with him to be his legislative assistant. Working for him put a stop to our sex—Washington was too much of a fishbowl—but we remained close and personal and having been sex partners brought us closer together on trust issues.

Everything was hunky-dory with Rex Helgerson for a couple of months. He regularly royally fucked me, which kept me humming, and occasionally used me to further his lobbying needs. When I could be of use to him with a man, we’d meet with the man in his hotel bar, have a few drinks, and shoot a bit of bull. When he was comfortable with doing me, I’d go up to the room with the guy. He’d fuck the shit out of me—they always seemed to take full advantage of the opportunity, although they didn’t always carry through with going to his room. We’d shower, often together, with me sucking him off again. And then we’d come back downstairs and I’d sit there demurely, an ever-present reminder that the guy had been serviced. They’d strike their deal, and Rex would either take me home or back to his hotel to use me the rest of the night. As long as he regularly fucked me, though, I didn’t mind. I was getting a good education in the reality of how exchanges of favors in government worked, and I, of course, got an A in his course.

The inevitable split came, though, when he and I went on a double date with Patrick and another professor who had been giving me the eye for months. When I reviewed what happened later, I had to admit that the crux of the matter was that the professor, Vincent, was maneuvering to get me and had agreed to double date as Patrick’s date to get to that goal.

We went to dinner and a club. Rex was as charismatic as ever—he hardly could avoid being so. Patrick fell for him hard. We ended up at Vincent’s Baltimore house, having gotten half looped at the club and adding fuel to that when we got to Vincent’s house.

I became confused about the sequence of events after that. Patrick said—before I turned him off and moved out of our shared digs—that I went off with Vincent first and that he and Rex found me under Vincent, being fucked on his bed, before they had sex. That’s not the way I remembered it, and it certainly didn’t go with what happened the weeks after that when it no longer was Rex and me but was Rex and Patrick, with Patrick being used with those Rex could influence with sex with a young, handsome man rather than me. By then, though, I wasn’t taking calls from either one of them. Not long after that, I got the call from Mark Macefield whether I’d like to come to Annapolis after I graduated from Johns Hopkins, in a matter of a few weeks, and work with him.

When I left Baltimore, Patrick and Rex were living together—or so I was told by others. Between then and now, eight years later, when I’d been informed Patrick was dead and being buried in Oak Park, Illinois, which had been the base for Frank Lloyd Wright’s training and business in the prairie craftsmen style Patrick specialized in, I’d been working, first in Annapolis and then in Washington, D.C., with Representative Mark Macefield and trying to go celibate. I’d assumed that Patrick and Rex were still together.

I’d obviously assumed wrong, though.

* * * *

I was brought out of my reverie by an elderly woman touching my sleeve and asking, “Will you be coming back to the house now? Do you need directions?”

“No . . . no, I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to get back to Chicago and I’m already late.” It was true that the ceremony at the gravesite had gone longer than anticipated. I hadn’t gone to the funeral at the church beforehand. I’d gotten lost en route and arrived late, but I suppose I had done that on purpose. I don’t know why I had come at all, other than Patrick’s mother had sent me an invitation, and she’d been kind to me when he and I were in college. She’d had no idea we both were gay or what we’d done about that. She had devoted her time to the woman who obviously had been his wife and to his children at the gravesite and I hadn’t approached her, although I made sure she knew I was there. I couldn’t stand the thought of going to where they had lived, where he’d made a heterosexual life for himself—especially if Rex would be there too.

So, having said I needed to leave quickly, I did so—without taking another look for where Rex was—without seeking him out and saying anything, although I was aching to do so. To tell the truth, that wasn’t the only thing I was aching to do with Rex Helgerson. I’d never gotten over him. I had to admit that to myself now.

All the way back into the city in the rental car, I admonished myself for not having the courage to talk with Rex. There hadn’t been anyone since our split who did it for me like he had. Even the pimping part had given me a high—had put me on a higher arousal plane when he then fucked me in challenging positions afterward. And now I knew that he hadn’t stayed with Patrick for long either.

I had booked at the JW Marriott, which was near Chicago’s Union Station—or, rather, Mark Macefield’s secretary had booked me there and Mark was springing for the room and for the one-day car rental to get me out to Oak Park. He’d been all sympathy when I said that Patrick had died and helpfulness, but I knew that, to some extent, it was a guilty conscious. Although we hadn’t had sex since he won a seat in Congress and we’d moved to Washington—and to separate apartments—there always was the possibility there that our affair would be rekindled. But I knew he was pursuing the heiress to a fortune built on corn futures to underwrite his political ambitions and was treating me with kid gloves, not only for old time’s sake but also for what I knew. I had no intention of undermining his ambitions, though. And he no longer aroused me. The national scene had made him too calculating and cowardly.

I’d spend the night at the Marriott and get on Amtrak’s Capitol Limited bound back to D.C. later the next day at 6:40 p.m. after having done some congressional business that would justify my trip to Chicago and the cost of my hotel room. I was keyed up and had half a notion to go looking for the Boystown area, which I’d been told was the gay district of Chicago. But I just couldn’t muster the energy to do that. Maybe part of that was having seen Rex and having those memories dredged up. A one-night stand with a stud from a Chicago gay bar would pale in the face of memories of doing it with Rex. Instead, I called for reservations at the hotel’s Florentine restaurant and napped after dropping off the rental car.

It was in somewhat of a disgruntled and scattered mood that I showed up at seven for my dinner reservations and was seated at a table for two for a solitary meal. I knew I could use the time that evening after dinner to read congressional bills and write notes on them for Mark, but that was about the last thing there was for me to want to do.

I knew what I wanted to do, so I had no defenses to what I subsequently did.

“So, we’re booked at the same hotel.” I looked up to see who had spoken and to see if he was speaking to me. Of course it was Rex Helgerson. Out of all of the hotel dining rooms in Chicago, he’d have to come into the same one I was in. “Are you expecting someone, or can I dine with you? I see you have a menu—that you haven’t ordered yet.”

“Yes, of course, by all means join me.” What else could I say? Besides I was footloose for the evening, faced with paperwork I didn’t want to do or didn’t need to do that evening, and feeling sorry for myself. Truth be known my thoughts since the graveside ceremonies had continually been interrupted with memories of him doing me.

“You left the graveside in a hurry,” Rex said when he was sitting, had a menu in his hand, and the maître ‘d had walked off. “I hope you weren’t avoiding me.”

“No, of course not. I was ducking an invitation to go back to the house. The wife and children took me completely by surprise.” I was ducking the reality that it was, indeed, partially to avoid Rex. I had been so sure that page of my life had been turned. Now I wasn’t so sure. He looked good, sitting across from me. No, he looked great. Memories of how great he was—in bed—flooded into my mind. But there had been no signal that he was interested; he had every right to hold a grudge with me.

“So, you didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“It wasn’t really my place to tell you. We weren’t really together. I tried to tell you then. You wouldn’t take my calls.” I had to grant him that, after years of retrospection. And, god, he was still so compelling.

“That’s all in the past,” I said, trying to brush it all aside.

“And thus it doesn’t have to cloud the present?” he asked. He put his forearm on the table, jutting out toward me, as if he wanted me to take his hand. I didn’t, though. I cleared my throat, signaling the approach of the waiter, and we suspended our conversation to order our meals.

“I meant it’s all in the past. It doesn’t have any effect on the present,” I said, when the waiter was gone. His forearm was extended across the table again. I still didn’t take his proffered hand. I was tempted, of course. Rex had always been a temptation.

“It’s a coincidence we’re in the same hotel dining room,” I said, trying to be breezy and floating along the surface of a chat.

“I’m staying at this hotel because it’s close to Union Station,” he said. You know me and flying. I’m traveling by train, as usual.

“Me too. That’s why I’m at the JW Marriot too,” I said. “Funny that we both prefer train travel, especially with all the travel we both probably do.”

“We have shared a lot of interests—and preferences—and have a lot in common, Ned.”

“I’ve come from Washington, D.C. . . . on the Capitol Limited. I work for Mark Macefield now.”

“I know you work for Mark.”

“Returning by the Capitol Limited tomorrow. Leaving at 6:40 in the evening.” Why was I giving him my schedule? That should be obvious, even to me. I was checking to see if his schedule could accommodate me.

“I live in San Antonio now. The Texas Eagle leaves at 1:45 in the afternoon.”

Our food arrived, and what little talking we did was dancing around the surface of chit chat. He still worked for Edison Oil, high up in their corporate offices. He wasn’t married and he was between boyfriends. “Many months between them,” he had clarified. He didn’t have anything to do this evening. He’d heard of a club he’d like to go to. He’d rather not go alone.

Coffee was served and he extended his forearm on the table again. “Take my hand, Ned,” he said. This time I did so.

“If you don’t have plans, come out with me this evening. Roscoe’s is the club I’ve heard about. Not too rough or obvious.”

“Just to the club?” I asked.

“It depends on what you want to do, Ned. What I’d like to do is bring you back here and fuck your lights out.”

The startled me. “Always so direct,” I said.

“Life is too short to beat around the bush. You still get my juices going. But it’s up to you. The clubbing and fucking are mutually exclusive proposals—unless you want to bypass the clubbing altogether.”

“We’ll try the club and then see,” I answered. I knew the answer, though. I’m sure he did too. He was always supremely confident in himself.

He was right. Roscoe’s was obviously a gay club, but it was understated and the dance band was good. Rex could still dance well. He also could attract attention as well as he ever did, and I was happy to see that I could as well. On a slow dance, nearly at midnight, he whispered in my ear, “The offer stands. Come back to my room at the Marriot, Ned. Let me fuck you. Neither one of us has any reason or anyone else to worry about. A night of uncommitted pleasure will do us both good. You can remember how good it was, can’t you—for both of us?”

Yes, I could remember. And I couldn’t think of one damn reason not to go back to his room with him.

I’d forgotten how inventive and demanding he was. I also had forgotten how seldom he used hotel beds. I was surprised at how he had been able to maintain his stamina, though.

He fucked me, both of us still half clothed, on the floor, doggie style, just inside the door to his hotel room—which I immediately saw was a much plushier room than mine was. He had always been a high roller. Now he was being a demanding baller. He was strong, muscular for his age, and hung like a bull. He took me hard and fast the first time, my trousers down around my knees and he still in his shirt, albeit flapping open, jacket, and tie. He took little time getting it all inside me, and I opened to him as easily as if it had just been yesterday when we had fucked the last time. He knew all of my sensitive spots up and down my passage and he knew where, on my lower belly to the right, he could press his thumb to send me into overdrive.

It was like we’d never gotten off track. He was impossibly long and thick, stretching me to capacity. I fit him like a glove that had been created just for him, and he set my passage muscles to rippling over his pumping dick as no other man was able to do.

He fucked me in long, vigorous strokes with the sounds of his grunts, my groans, and the slapping of his balls on my buttocks reverberating through the room.

When we’d both come and started to recover—with him recovering faster than I did despite his age—he dragged me up, but not over to the bed. He took me to the dresser, with a mirror over it, put my legs into the splits across the surface of the dresser, and I pressed my hands and cheek into the mirror and watched him over my shoulder as he saddled up behind me and fucked me again.

He’d never been shy to say that half of his attraction to me was that I’d been a gymnast and would let him put me in taxing positions in a fuck. The miracle here was that I still could accommodate him in this.

And I could still accommodate him. After he’d fucked me for a while in this position, he pulled me off the dresser and frog marched me over to the floor-to-ceiling window looking out onto a Chicago that never slept at night, where, cheek and hands to the window, I hung in front of him as he completed the fuck.

When at last he hauled me over to the bed and dropped me there, coming down behind me and, still hard enough to penetrate, skewered me from behind, I drifted off into an exhausted sleep. When I woke, with sunlight streaming in the window, Rex was asleep, snoring, but his cock, flaccid, was still lodged in my passage.

I extricated myself, padded to the bathroom, and took a shower. He was still asleep and snoring away when I came out of the bathroom. I pulled my clothes on, took one last look at him, debating whether to wake him. But I had no idea what I’d say if I did. I had no idea what this fuck meant to me . . . to him . . . to us—if anything. I’d have to think about that.

I went back to my room to order room service, change my clothes, and get a taxi for the meetings I’d set up for the day. The meetings were a godsend. They kept me from thinking about what had just happened and where, if anywhere, it might lead.

I couldn’t hope that I would be getting back on the track with Rex. I didn’t know if it was too late for us. I didn’t know if he had been able to discern how much being with him again meant to me. I was never very good at telegraphing my true emotions. Chances were good this was just a convenient toss in the hay for him and he had no interest in getting back on that track.

* * * *

Thank god for scheduled meetings, I reiterate. I worked nonstop for the rest of the day and only thought about Rex maybe four times in an hour. I arrived, panting, at Chicago’s Union Station at 5:30 p.m. for a 6:40 p.m. on-time departure of Amtrak’s Capitol Limited for Washington, D.C.’s Union Station, arriving at 1:00 p.m. the next day. Naturally, I’d booked a roomette compartment, although the concept of one bedroom didn’t really denote adequate space, even for one. Once the lower bunk was down for the night, there’d be practically no ability to move around in the compartment.

I didn’t have time to catch anything to eat. I hadn’t gotten lunch because of my meeting schedule in Chicago. Dinner on the train wouldn’t be until we were well on our way. Happily, the plush waiting room for private compartment passengers at Chicago’s Union Station featured vegetable and cheese and cracker trays and they had a wine tasting on. So, I was able to nosh.

As I was doing so, I heard a familiar voice and the bulky, hunky familiar form of Rex Helgerson loomed before me.

“Try the red too,” he said, remarking on the glass of Chardonnay I was sipping, “it’s quite acceptable. It’s sturdy and has power to it. I know you appreciate that.” He indeed was standing there, holding a glass of red.

“Rex?” I said, surprised. “Didn’t you say the Texas Eagle was leaving around 1:00?”

“As far as I know, it did,” he said, with a chuckle. “I decided I missed Washington, D.C., and the lobbyist’s whirl there. I called my office and got switched to our Washington office at least for a while. They were delighted. They’ve been trying to get me to go back for some time. I thought I’d give that another try. What do you think about that?”

“Suits me fine,” I answered. It suited me more than fine, but I’d never been good about revealing all of my emotions and hopes.

“I thought there might be a chance that you and I could give it another try too—to try to get this train back on track.” He paused. I could tell that he was nervous and unsure of himself. I was flabbergasted at that; I’d never known Rex to be anything but fully in control of himself—and of those around him. It made all the difference. It’s what told me he was serious. “I wonder what you think—”

“That suits me just fine,” I said.

“My compartment, of course,” he said. “I’ll pin you to the bunk with my cock.” The old Rex was back. That suited me fine too.

I was wrong about there not being enough space in an Amtrak train roomette compartment to do much of anything. Rex fucked me through the night in his compartment, only using the unfolded three-quarters lower bunk toward the morning when we were sleepy and nearing exhaustion. Once there, though, he did pin me to the bunk with his cock and it didn’t matter how much space we didn’t have outside the bunk.

He took me in the seat outside the door to the combination toilet and shower three ways—me hunched over the seat, with chin on seat back and hands gripping the armrests, Rex fucking me doggie style from behind; me huddled in the chair, ankles on his shoulders, and him squeezing and raising my buttocks to him and pounding my passage; and him sitting in the chair, with me saddled on his cock and riding it. And he took me with me on my back on the bed and him standing on the small square of space between the bed and the entrance to the toilet/shower, with my legs spread and feet digging until the edge of the upper bunk overhead, him fucking me in a missionary position. And he did me with me standing on the floor next to the edge of the lower bunk, bent over, grabbing the edge of overhead bunk, arms and legs spread, and him grasping my hips and pounding me from behind.

If the train ride had been any longer, he would have murdered me with his cock and his idea of how the cramped space in the roomette could be used for challenging sex.

In time, we went to the lower bunk and he fucked me in every position he and I could get into as the trained raced through Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Maryland as it steamed into Washington, D.C. And I swear that the train hit its whistle every time either Rex or I achieved an ejaculation.

And it all suited me just fine.

---

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

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“Yeah…suck that cock!”  I tell him, looking down at my old best friend down on my dick, who’s slowly getting the hang of it. 

Pants are down to my sneakers, I’m leaning back on the couch, enjoying holding my jerk of a friend by the back of his fat neck, holding him down on my cock, watching him a choke a little bit. I’m enjoying this position in life that I usually don’t entertain.

Derek now brings his hand over, probably thinking I’m not holding him down strong enough. Alex might be more durable than me, but he’s certainly no match for my boyfriend’s strong hand. Alex’s lips and teeth are now put flat against my balls, the tip of my cock now into his throat, “Oooohh,” I moan and kink my head back, eyes closed enjoying just how nice that deep-throat feels. I now understand why Derek loves having it deep in my throat so much. I almost felt sorry for the asshole, I know how difficult a good deep throat can be, it takes some practice. Yet, my cock’s really not that big, certainly not as difficult to take as Derek’s. From my point of you, this kid shouldn’t be struggling and choking as much as he is, yet it’s awesome to see him in pain, and certainly feels amazing. 

“Lick that cock, boy.” Alex likely never imagined the day I’d be talking down to him like this. All those years of him talking down to me have sort of come full-circle, watching him now trying to slurp around the bottom of my shaft, with Derek’s big hand making it hard for him to really move. I kink my head up again, “Damn, it feels so good…” I know Alex somewhat likes it. He’s completely humiliated, as he deserves, but I know there’s a deep part of him that’s loving it, and I certainly am.

Alex’s fat tongue might feel even better than Derek. Then again, Derek doesn’t blow me all that much, little teases here and there, my boyfriend’s not one for fellatio, it’s just not in his nature. Derek has too much of a masculine drive, blow jobs are beneath him, involve him submitting to someone else, Derek is more the type endowed to receive great blow jobs, from willing counterparts like me. We had discussed such an idea time to time in the past, and now we’re here after having arisen a great opportunity to have a third who can satisfy my lesser needs, submit to me in the way Derek will not. I push Alex’s head back, off my dick. I hold his forehead stretched out and seeing his eyes all googley, sticking his tongue out deep in the air trying to return it to my dick. I see the fire of submission deep in his eyes, he’s in that hypnotic zone, the type that I usually find myself in when pleasing Derek, my hunk, my king, making sure he feels like the most powerful man in the world. I can see Alex’s desires are much less personal, he’s shy to be submitted to his old friend he used to push around, and his more aggressive boyfriend. In Alex’s eyes is just the flame of wanting to suck cock. 

—

Alex should’ve known better than to double cross me, especially right now having Derek to defend him. His current status is no one’s fault but his own. Alex and I grew up together, middle school, high school. He goes to a different college but isn’t so far away. We see each other often, and Alex has met Derek a number of times. Derek never had a problem with Alex up until now. 

Alex and I always had a competitive best friendship. We’re both very smart, me as the smaller, twinkier, openly gay 5’8″ kid. I generally like to think I have good intentions. Alex has always been bigger, fatter, more muscular as well, and generally more sharp and conniving to get what he wants and achieve superiority. I know he’s gay. He know’s that I know he’s gay, without ever having come to tell me. I remember him through high school, trying to get at me after I came out. Even through various relationships with women, my closeted friend would always try to play me, manipulate me through certain sexual gestures. Gestures of dominance. He’d like to remind me he was stronger than him my putting his hands of me time to time, shaking my hand awkwardly strong, arm-wrestling in front of his girlfriends. He’s the type to have his shoes up on his desk, arms back, striking a power pose whenever he felt the need to talk to me. 

I know Alex has had experience with guys, despite trying to hide from me. Since college I can tell he’s had two relationships with boys. I can read right through him. The first was with this small, docile, pushover kind-of kid named Johnny. He was almost like me, but even less able to stick up for himself. In recent years, since late high school, Alex enjoyed surrounding himself, with guys or girls, but especially guys, that he can manipulate and control. He’d never tell me about their sex, but rumors had spread, Johnny didn’t keep his mouth quiet enough, about their close “friendship” that often involved him sucking Alex’s dick or submitting to him in other ways. Our sophomore and junior years of college, Johnny seemed to fall off the face of the earth, and Alex was more often around this kid Garrett. An inch or two shorter than Alex’s 5’11”-6’0″ height. It appeared from the outside, that their relationship had more an equal energy. Not much was ever learned from their ‘quality friend time,’ but I know they were intimate, and despite being more equal personalities, Alex certainly tried to assert some sort of control over the kid.

Now in senior year, Garrett also fell off the face of the Earth, and I can tell because Alex had been much more interested in being his old-self with me. His college only twenty minutes away, I often saw him at bars and at weekends home. He loved to play up his credentials and job prospects, and insist how successful he was going to be. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of playing this competitive game back. When Derek was around, I could tell Alex knew to watch himself, but after a while Derek started to pick up on his demeanor too, but simply laughed the kid off as a “loser” in the way he does.

—

It’s Alex’s fault that he’s been reduced to our bitch at the moment, my humiliated dick sucker. I’m now pulling his head up and down my cock. His lips are tight to my shaft, he has more skills and experience with this than perhaps I imagined. Derek is now texting on his phone, unconcerned with our bitch and my personal pleasure just beside him on our couch.

I smack Alex’s face, wanting more effort, despite the effort he seems to be naturally giving me — I guess I’m starting to enjoy the power. “Come on, bitch. I know you want this,” I smack him again. He should’ve known better to give up my secrets in public, he should’ve thought harder than to play conniving or try to one-up me at the bar, right in front of Derek. 

I release my hands, putting them behind my head, slouching further down into him. He now sucks on the meat of my head, tight-lipped the way he should be, scraping his tongue on my meat to get just enough friction to sooth it. He’s not bad at this at all. I close my eyes and enjoy the pleasure, thinking of those moments leaving the bar last night. Derek and I planned it all. We left with him via the back door and the alley, where Derek was fast to make Alex learn his strength and rage, holding him by his neck up against the brick wall, hearing him asphyxiate, watching him taken by total shock and fear. Derek held him just long and strong enough that he collapsed on the concrete ground, hands out, upon releasing him. Derek kicked him to the side, flipping him over, his back to the cold damp alley. I kicked him to his other side. He was now in pain, the little bitch not even thinking about trying to resist. Derek taunted him from above, just enough, reminded him what it means to fuck with him and his boy. “If you’re gonna play with my boy’s secrets, we’re going to play with yours….but don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone, if you cooperate.” Derek felt he wasn’t worthy of the back seat, my weakened, scared-out-of-his-mind childhood friend didn’t fight being put in the trunk. 

Off to my apartment, we decided to not fuck with him that night. It was best to make him wait, give him just a little bit of food while we kept him tied in the hallway closet overnight. We made sure to make him suffer in long silence, with plenty of time to worry as to what would happen with him. I didn’t have class this morning, but Derek had a work meeting which called him out all morning and early afternoon. I was instructed, though in full agreement with Derek, to not begin with him until he returned home. I threw him a granola bar early this morning, shutting the closet abruptly. I took the wrapper off to be nice, but he must’ve had to bend down and eat it from the floor the way we tied him up.

I open my eyes and decide to reposition the both of us, I push his head further away, and slouch further so my ass is better exposed to the bitch. I don’t bother to hold, push, or force him physically. “Clean the underside of my balls,” and the douchebag didn’t hesitate to lap up, pretty eagerly, the sweat and masculine musk from the underside of my scrotum. I push his tongue to give him a bigger swipe path, from the skin between my crack and scrotum, up to the bottom of my ballsack. He’s does an okay job, rather lazy. “Deeper, harder.” I feel more pressure from his tongue, he digs his face further in my crotch. “More.” He’s now really getting in there, his tongue almost flat on my skin. “By deeper, I mean go further down!” With each swipe his tongue descends further and further down. “More.” He finally understands, and meets the top of my ass crack. He swipes from inside, over my tender hole and up to my balls. Enough pressure, enough moisture, my dick couldn’t get any harder than it’s measly 5.5″. This was perhaps the best sensation yet. 

“You’re lucky to be allowed to do that,” Derek taunts, “because on any given day, your superior friend’s ass is 100% mine.” Derek was pretty territorial with me, but I loved it. 

When Derek finally got home about forty minutes ago, we finally opened the closet door and allowed the fucker the first big dose of light he’s had in the past fifteen hours or so. We picked him up, tired, weak, and stood him up, we took off his sneakers, socks, pants, underwear. His hands tied, we left his button-up on that he was still wearing from the bar. We brought his ass to the bathroom and help him up insisting that he probably needed to pee. Alex’s cock actually isn’t so bad, somewhere in between me and Derek, but of more girth, and uncut. He moved his big, fat, feet around the tile floor, likely cold. He finished his small stream and then was paraded into our living room. Derek hit him in the gut to see him bend forward, making it easier for us to kick in his knees to that he collapse into a kneel between our couch and coffee table. I sat down in front of the bitch, with my authoritative hunk to my side, and brought down my pants to my sneakers. The dick sucking began. 

Derek, still in his meeting clothes, starts to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. “Faggot,” as he had been referring to Alex, “take care of my laces for me.” I help push Alex’s head down toward hunk’s dress shoes. He has no hands to physically take them off for him, but he sure has teeth to unlace them. “Kiss each shoe. Appreciate how shiny they are,” Derek commands after the unlacing. Alex plants a kiss on each. “Again.” Alex obeyed. My 6’0″ beefy hunk slipped his strong feet out of his shoes, resting his soles on top of them. “Kiss the tops of my feet.” Alex kisses each of the black dress socks. I was almost jealous in that moment, Derek has Alex much more submissive than he ever has with me, despite me always wanting more in-depth submissive kink with my boyfriend. 

“Kiss your way up to my crotch.” Alex tries in his weird position to ascend Derek’s legs, tilting his neck seemingly uncomfortably to kiss up the dress pants. He kisses his knees, and repositioned himself to further kiss up his thighs. He must’ve been taking too long as Alex just take the back of his head and rams him into his crotch of steel. I see my boyfriend starting to grow in his pants, enjoying watching this fucker who mistreated me down at his knees, his crotch. Instinctively, the bitch starts to lick and dampen Derek’s crotch through his pants. Derek slowly begins to unbuckle, but then pauses, and returns his hands to his side. With his leg he pushes Alex back towards me, “Go worship my boy some more,” I think Derek wanted to pace how fast he got erect. 

My pants still down, dick still freshly out, I decide to lift up my legs and cross my feet on the coffee table. “Take my pants off.” He hesitated. “That means taking my shoes off too.” I still had my sneakers on from some of the cardio I did earlier on our elliptical and treadmill. I can see that Alex is really hesitant now. I smack him, “NOW.” I’m really enjoying the power now. I don’t think I would enjoy this with Derek, I’m naturally submissive to his natural dominance, yet, over a piece-of-shit bitch who deserves it, this is really satisfying. Like with Derek, Alex moves to teeth my laces out their knots. In his kneel he has to lean over the coffee table and stretch to reach over my legs. I slip my shoes off, feeling my black socks still kind of damp. “Now my pants.” Alex’s teeth moves to the top button and moves his neck toward my feet to drag my pants down. I figured this would take way too long, so I just bent in and pulled them off the rest. My legs crossed over the coffee table, “Take off my socks now,” I command. I wiggle my toes inside, feeling moist and rather sweaty. He’s so hesitant, slow, he doesn’t want to. I don’t bother to push him, just enjoy watching him struggle and he bites the heel of my sock and drags it off my foot. I can tell from the grimace of his face how it must’ve already smelled a bit. I didn’t care, I just enjoyed watching him peel off the other.

“Why don’t we move the coffee table back a little bit?”

“I like that idea,” Derek supported.

I leaned in to push the coffee table just back enough to give the faggot more ample floor room. “Lay on the floor.” He relaxed from his awkward kneel onto his side on the floor. I pushed my bare feet into my face, forcing his face upright, his body followed suit and now he was flat on his back, arched with his tied hands behind his back. I wondered how long it’d take for those to go numb with all of his weight on them. 

I mashed my feet into his face, my feet are as strong or sexy as Derek’s 12s, but they’re suitable 10.5s. “Clean them.” He didn’t hesitate as much to open his mouth. I stuck the toes of my right foot in. He lathed his tongue around my toes and tilted his neck up to get them further into his mouth. The warm saliva in his mouth was like a massage I never imagined. The soft touches with his teeth also felt kind of nice. I dug my toes further down his throat, really testing him to the point of choking. I dabbed my foot up and down, along his tongue, watching saliva form out of his mouth and drizzle my toes. I fanned my toes out and enjoyed him tonguing in between each one, removing some lint from my black socks that are pretty new. I then moved my left foot in, resting my saliva soaked foot on his forehead. I watched him suck those toes, then I moved my foot out. “Stick out your tongue.” I swiped my sole along his tongue, and slowed my motion as he began to tilt his head, be more diligent in licking the sweat off my sole. Derek watched in amusement. I had worshiped Derek’s feet a few times and really was curious to feel it myself. Though Derek usually doesn’t find it as hot as I do. 

I now stood up from the couch, off of his face. I moved stuff off the coffee table. Derek understood my intentions and moved so that together we could move this fat ass onto the coffee table. I moved around toward his legs. “Why don’t you…”

“I’m going to…” I didn’t even let Derek finish his sentence. We both just smiled in agreement. 

Derek removed his pants and shirt, happy to flex his nice chest for our captive. Alex’s head on the coffee table, his legs and feet off to the other side, Derek moved in, leg to each side of the table, and happily sat on our bitch’s face. Using his hands to spread his ass cheeks a bit, Alex knew what to do and began tongue up my boyfriend’s hairy crack and hole. I almost felt sorry for Alex, Derek is no bottom, and certainly doesn’t keep a bottom’s hygiene when it came to is ass. I see Alex sort of slow down and struggle with all the sweat and smell that he must be trapped in. I pick up the Alex’s fat legs, holding them up. His big ass is just so perfectly at the end of the coffee table. I take a clorox wipe, and clean his ass a bit. Not that it was dirty, I just like to be extra clean when I ever have to top. I could tell he liked the feeling of me swiping his ass with the moist toilette, and probing his ass with it just so slightly as to open him up.

“Should I get a Trojan?” I asked Derek.

He just shrugged his head at me, “Nahhh….”

I just did it, and heard him shriek from underneath my hunk’s big manly ass. We both laughed. In and out, damn this felt so nice. It wasn’t my first time topping, but I can definitely count all the times I’ve topped on one hand. I’m not a natural, I’m a happy bottom boy usually. Yet, my best-friends thick ass was just so tight, the size of his fat ass also turned me on. My dick loved every moment of it. I wasn’t too tired to keep up good thrusts. “Yeah baby,” Derek smiled, happy to sort of teach me to how to top a bitch, “Go a little slower, but deeper.” Oh yess….that was amazing advice. Alex’s murmurs from deep down under affirmed that we equally enjoyed my steady but strong back-and-forth. 

“So, bitch,” I spoke, “When was the last time you bottomed?” I heard some sort of murmur but couldn’t make it out and frankly didn’t care. I just continued to fuck my best-friend. I’m proudly fucking my cocky-douchebag of an asshole best-friend.

His big ass, his thick legs, his thick feet in my face. I remember how he used to taunt me with his big feet growing up, stepping over me, or trying to put them near my face as a statement of dominance. I remember secretly enjoying it but never admitting it, Alex always had these nice 13-14s.

The smells were starting to accumulate. Alex’s ball sweat and my ball sweat combined with the stench of his feet and ass. Yet all together, it made me zone in harder. My best friend was my bitch right now, and there was nothing stopping me. The power rush got to my head, and I felt my dick grow and tense, I felt a rush of heat through my body and up my shift and I exploded deep into my childhood best friend’s big ass. I felt streams of cum string out of my head like I used to do during the early days of Derek and I’s relationship. I slowed down, continuing to thrust. 

“Yeah baby!” I could tell how proud Derek is of me to see my top like that for the first time. “Alright, my turn with our bitch. I’ll be fast.”

We switched positions, and I got to enjoy the faggot clean up my ballsack and ass crack, slowing down as Derek punched him more and more into orgasm, we were never going to let him cum yet. Not now anyway. Not today. Derek gave our new bitch a few more minutes of his pounding, he was going heavy, deep and rough, he clearly didn’t care to make Alex feel anything the way he does with me. This is to be a fast, orgasmic release of his plumbing. I saw his face grimace as he closed his eyes and looked up, “Ooooo,” Derek exploded as well deep in our bitch’s ass. 

The come-down felt amazing, fulfilling. Derek and I shared a long passionate kiss as the faggot continued to lay on the coffee table weak and exhausted. We weren’t done with him yet. We dragged him off the table, down the hallway where he crawled. Into our bedroom, Derek and I felt the need for a post-sex nap, just an hour or two. Derek tied the bitch the end post at the foot of the bed, and collapsing on the bed on his usual side, he bent in to remove his socks, and told the faggot to lick his feet until we were both asleep. I laid down on my side, laying on Derek, my head on his chest, his arms around me. I nuzzled my head further into him, eyes closed, enjoying the security I usually get when cuddling with him, enjoying the dark satisfaction of watching my douchebag of a childhood friend being made into a total bitch worth nothing but licking the dirt and sweat off our bodies, right now off Derek’s big feet. We would decide what to do with him once and for all after our nap.

---

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

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Author’s Note – There are elements of non-consent in this story. If that type of element offends you, or is problematic, please do not read.

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As I opened the door, a sense of excitement went through me.

“Carlos! You finally made it!”

I pushed open the screen door, and grabbed his hand. Grinning with that sexy smile he always wore, Carlos grabbed my hand and, in typical fashion, pulled me forward for a quick hug.

“Of course I made it, pendejo! What, you think I don’t know how to find your house anymore?”

Laughing, I stepped aside to let him in the house. “I don’t know, you fucking wetback. It’s been a while since you were here.”

Carlos laughed and walked inside. As he passed, my eyes raked slowly over him, admiring the hot ass that his jeans showcased so well.

At 26, Carlos was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. He was Hispanic, with the typical golden Latin skin, black hair and brown eyes. He was only 5’5″, which was a source of embarrassment for him, but his body was anything but embarrassing.

When he was a teenager, his father had him work hard physical labor by building houses with him and his muscular body was toned from natural work. As Carlos got older, he started working out several times a week at a gym, developing a hard, muscular and extremely defined physique. Even when he wore extra-large shirts, you could still see the muscles in his chest and arms where they stretched the fabric. His leg muscles were so big that he had to wear pants that were 2 inches too big in the waist for him, just so they would fit his thighs.

Even in the larger size pants, you couldn’t miss Carlos’s tight muscle ass. His body was a work of art and you can be sure that Carlos knew it. But even with his hellaciously fine physique, Carlos was very humble about it. He had worked hard to turn it into something special, but unlike many guys, he didn’t think he was god’s gift to the world.

Carlos and I had known each other for over ten years and were very close. We’d always been there for each other when life got tough. He knew I was gay, I knew he was straight, but we loved each other like brothers. Although I have to admit, his sexy muscular body was a turn on for me.

 ###

 I’d first met Carlos when he was 18 years old, working at one of the local grocery stores. It was early December and, believe it or not, I was ringing the bell for a Salvation Army kettle that was at the store.

Carlos was a sacker and kept going in and out of the front door as he helped people with their groceries. Even back then, he was a sassy little spitfire, flashing that gorgeous smile and talking shit to me as his humpy little body walked by.

“Hey, you gonna wear your arm out ringing the bell like that!”

“I didn’t know you gringos had the strength to lift a big, heavy bell.”

He was so cute and sexy as he grinned and talked his trash, I couldn’t get mad at him. All I did was laugh along with him after he popped off a good one.

On one trip back inside the store, he asked me my name, and I told him. Biiiiig mistake.

When he came back out, he said, “Hey Ian, you making any money?”

When I just smiled at him, he said, “Maybe if you bolillo’s were as good looking as me, you’d make some.” He laughed and walked on.

I found out later that “bolillo” was a Spanish slang expression for white guys. But all I did after that comment was laugh along with him. And watch his sexy, little ass bounce as he walked.

I was there at the kettle several times over the next 2 weeks and when Carlos was on duty, we’d keep up the same smartass banter.

 “Hey Carlos . . . did you lose your high top shoes or are you just a short Mexican?”

“I might be short, Ian, but I’m ‘big’ elsewhere. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But if you’d go on a diet, you’d lose that gut!”

And on and on like that, every time we saw each other. Even though we both talked a lot of shit, it was always a joy to be around him. His smile brightened up my day and his laugh was infectious. And, of course, watching his muscled chest push out his shirt, or his biceps bulge when he pushed a cart was very nice indeed.

On my next to last day of working the kettle, I saw Carlos come out of the store. He didn’t have his usual smile and just nodded to me as he passed by. When I saw him returning a few minutes later, he looked even more dejected and I called out to him.

“Hey Carlos . . . you okay, man?”

Carlos looked directly at me with a blank stare. “Yeah.”

He started to walk past me and I reached out and grabbed his upper arm. Fuck, it felt nice. He wasn’t even flexing and I was barely holding half of his bicep.

“Carlos, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing.”

Carlos stopped and looked at me. I’d never seen him without a smile before and he looked like he was about to cry. For a second, I thought he was going to just walk on by without saying anything. Finally, he looked down and muttered something that I couldn’t hear.

“What did you say?”

He looked back up at me and I could see his eyes tear up and his lip quiver slightly. Slowly, he spoke again.

“My father died last night.”

“Oh my god! Are you all right?” It was a stupid thing to say, but I was shocked.

Tears started streaming down his face and with an angry look in his eyes, he said, “Do I LOOK like I’m alright, dumb fuck?”

“Ah hell, Carlos . . . I’m so sorry. It just took me by surprise.”

He nodded and looked down again. Trying to comfort him, I said, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Carlos wiped the tears off his cheeks and was quiet. After a few seconds, he looked back up at me and said, “Can you take me out to eat? I’m sort of hungry and there isn’t anyone at home.”

“Sure, no problem, Carlos.” I paused. “When you want to go?”

“Let’s go now. My shift is almost over and I need to get the hell out of here.”

“Sure. Just come back out here when you’re ready.”

Carlos nodded and walked slowly back into the store. Ten minutes later, he came back out and said, “You ready?” I gave a weak smile and we headed towards my car.

As we ate dinner at my favorite restaurant, Carlos shared what happened. His father, who was divorced from his mother and lived in another city, was helping a friend move when he suddenly collapsed. A heart attack probably, but no one was sure yet. What he was sure of though was that his father was definitely gone.

It was interesting listening to Carlos because many people are usually quiet when they experience the death of someone they love. But Carlos was actually more open than I’d ever seen him, sharing stories from his childhood. Some of them were really painful, as his father was an alcoholic and would get abusive towards him when he was drunk. The more Carlos talked, the more I was touched by how good and loving he really was.

You would never have guessed that about him, listening to his smart ass bantering. But obviously his demeanor hid a heart that had been hurt many times by a father he loved.

During one particularly heart wrenching story, I reached out and put my hand over his hand, wanting to let him know I cared. He didn’t seem to mind because he kept right on talking. After a few more minutes, he stopped suddenly and, for the first time that day, smiled weakly at me.

“You like holding my hand, Ian?”

I was startled and immediately pulled my hand back.

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I just . . . just . . . care about you, man.”

Carlos smiled a little broader and said, “Ian, don’t worry, mano. I was just kidding. I don’t mind.” He paused a second, and then said, “After all . . . it’s nice having someone care about you.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment, and he asked, “Don’t you think so?”

I looked at Carlos straight in the eyes. “Yes, I think so. But not everyone thinks like that, Carlos.”

A strange look came into Carlos’s eyes. “Fuck everybody else. There ain’t nothing wrong with caring, Ian.”

I kept looking at Carlos and slowly put my hand back over his. “I agree, man. There’s nothing wrong with caring for someone else.”

We finished dinner and left the restaurant. I drove Carlos home and let him out in front of his house. It was dark and I was concerned about him being along.

“You sure you’ll be okay? I don’t want you being alone.”

Carlos looked at me and his sexy smile slowly crept up his face. “I’ll be alright, mano. Thanks for dinner.”

He started to turn towards the house, when I asked, “Carlos . . . what does ‘mano’ mean? You’ve called me that twice tonight.”

Turning back, Carlos looked at me and hesitated. Another smile appeared but this time it was different. It wasn’t a teasing smile . . . or a sexy smile . . . or even a smartass smile. It was the smile of someone who was in pain . . . but willing to open up and let you see that they WOULD overcome it.

“It’s short for ‘hermano’. It means brother.”

I was touched but couldn’t say anything. I’m sure I had a goofy look on my face, but Carlos just smiled a little broader and said, “I mean it, Ian. You’re a good man. Thanks for being there for me.”

With that, he shut the door and started walking towards his house. As I watched his sexy ass walk up the sidewalk, I started grinning, and thought, “Any time, mano. Any time.”

###

I followed Carlos into the living room, eyeing his hot muscle body. Yes, he was like a brother to me, but it didn’t hurt that my brother was sexy as fuck. When my gay friends would meet him, they practically drooled all over him and flirted with him shamelessly. But that was all they would get to do. Because Carlos was as straight as they come.

As he sat down on the couch, I headed for the kitchen and asked, “You want something to drink?”

“Hell yeah! Give me a shot of tequila if you have some.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, turned around, and raised my eyebrows.

“You sure you want that, Carlos? You know, you and tequila don’t always hit if off well.”

Which was a fucking understatement. Tequila was his Achilles heel. You never knew what Carlos was going to be like after drinking some. And if he drank too much, he would get so wasted that he didn’t know what the hell was going on around him and would eventually pass out. When he woke up, he would rarely remember what happened. When Carlos was drunk on tequila, anything could happen. And that could be dangerous someday.

Carlos laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Ian. I’ll be fine. I just need a shot tonight. Actually, several shots. I WANT to get fucked up!”

I started back for the kitchen and didn’t say anything. Something serious must have happened to start him drinking like this. I mean, Carlos liked to drink and party with his friends, and he could get drunk. But he never set out to purposely get drunk. Knowing him as well as I did though, I knew he’d tell me when he was ready.

I handed Carlos his shot glass and sat down with my beer in the recliner next to the couch. As I sat down, I couldn’t help stealing a quick glance at his spread legs and bulging crotch.

Smiling, I asked, “So . . . to what do I owe the honor of your presence after such a long time?”

Carlos snorted. “Oh please, maricon! It hasn’t been that long.”

I gave him a sarcastic look. “Oh noooooooo. Not long at all. Let’s see . . . it’s only been . . . four months.”

Carlos looked surprised and said, “Bullshit! It hasn’t been that long.” He paused a minute. “Has it?”

“You were here for my New Year’s Eve party. And today is May 18. Think you can do the math?”

Looking a little more humble, Carlos stuttered, “Damn, Ian. I’m sorry. I didn’t think it had been that long.”

Smiling sweetly because Carlos gave up so easily, I said, “That’s okay, fuck face. I know you have responsibilities at home.” I leaned back and sipped my beer.

Carlos was quiet and didn’t say anything. He was staring at his glass and acted as though he didn’t hear me. I sat up in the recliner and said, “Dude, did you hear me? I said don’t sweat it. I know you’re busy with Rosa and the boys.”

Carlos still didn’t say anything and I thought it was a bit weird. Quiet was not his usual style and I was getting a little uncomfortable. I set my beer down, leaned towards him and waited. He sat there frozen. Finally, I reached out and put my hand on his leg.

“Carlos . . . what’s wrong?”

Slowly, Carlos put his shot glass down and hung his head. After what seemed like hours, Carlos looked at me, pain in his eyes, and said, “Rosa kicked me out.”

I was stunned. I knew Carlos and Rosa had divorced two months ago. But I also knew they were trying to get back together and Carlos was still living in the house. They had 3 sons and the youngest was my godson. Rosa was a beautiful, sweet girl and doing something like that was totally out of character for her. I knew Carlos loved his boys dearly and the divorce had been hard on him.

When I found my voice, I said, “She kicked you out? Why? I thought you two were trying to work things out?”

Carlos took a deep breath and said, “We were. But she said she was tired of me coming home wasted and didn’t want the boys seeing their daddy like that.”

“What does she mean coming home wasted? What have you been doing?”

Carlos looked away and didn’t say anything.

“Carlos . . . what have you been doing?”

Finally, Carlos looked back at me and said, “Nothing! Just going out from time to time and having fun.”

I didn’t say anything and kept looking at him. Carlos started getting irritated because he knew I could tell when he was lying.

“Okay! I was going out and . . . well . . . Beto, the boys, and I would get to drinking and . . . sometimes we’d have . . . too much.”

I gave him a mocking look and said, “Oh, just . . . sometimes?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and turned his head away, but didn’t say anything.

“Carlos, I know Rosa. Very well. She wouldn’t have kicked you out just because you got drunk ‘sometimes’. So don’t bullshit me, mano.”

Carlos stood up, tossed the tequila down his throat, and turned away from me. As I waited for him to say something, I looked down and found myself looking at his ass. I knew I shouldn’t be checking him out right now, but it was damn hard not to stare. His sexy ass filled the back of his jeans and jutted out nicely, the curve starting out at the bottom of his lower back and ending at the top of his thick legs. There was no doubt that his tight, solid ass would be a great fuck for anyone that managed to get their cock between those mounds of muscle.

Slowly, Carlos turned back towards me and my eyes darted back to his face. He took a deep breath and said, “Okay, Ian. Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been getting drunk practically every night.”

He sat back down on the couch and said, “But goddammit, it’s hard trying to deal with her shit! We talk and talk and she says one thing, then something else that is different from what she just said, and on and on! I get confused. After a while, I just say ‘fuck it’ and shut down. She can be such a bitch at times!”

I moved closer to Carlos and said, “I know, mano. I know you’re hurt.” I paused and then said, “Have you thought about going to see a counselor?”

Carlos threw his hands up. “We’ve made appointments to see one. I said I’d be willing to go. But she’s cancelled the last two appointments.” Angrily, he shouted, “How am we supposed to work through it when she makes it so hard?”

I sat back in the recliner. “Well, why don’t you go to the counselor by yourself if she can’t go?”

Carlos rolled his eyes again and said, “Fucking hell, Ian . . . what good will that do? We BOTH need to be there!” He picked up his shot glass, held it up to me, and said, “Hit me again, mano.”

In spite of my misgivings, I got the bottle and poured him another. We talked some more and during that time, Carlos had several more shots. I could hear the slurring sound in his voice, telling me he was getting drunk. I decided it was time to wind it down, when I had a sudden thought.

“Carlos, where were you planning on staying tonight?”

Carlos looked over at me slowly and I knew he was in no condition to drive.

“Look mano, you just stay here with me. For as long as you want. That would be one less thing you have to hassle with.”

Carlos looked at me. “Thanks, Ian.” He paused and hiccupped. Finally, he said, “My stuffs . . . in the truck. Can ya . . . uhhh . . . get it?”

“Sure, man. C’mon, let’s get you in your room.”

Carlos struggled to stand up. I pulled him up, placed my arm around his back and under his armpit and grabbed on to his chest. His back and side muscles were so large, it was difficult for me to get a hold of him. I walked him over to one of my guest bedrooms and he sat down on the bed.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get your shit.”

I got Carlos’s bag out of his truck and walked back in to his bedroom. As I walked in, I said, “Here mano . . . what are you going to need for . . .” and stopped.

Carlos had fallen back on the bed. I smiled and gave a small laugh. I figured the best thing he could do would be to just sleep it off. I got a blanket out of the closet, opened it up, and started to cover him. As I looked at my passed out friend, my eyes glanced at his crotch.

The swelling I’d seen earlier was still there. I looked at Carlos’s face and could hear him snoring lightly. Hesitantly, I reached out and put my hand on his jeans covered cock. I knew it was wrong but hell . . . Carlos would never know. And I knew I’d never get another chance like this anytime soon.

I squeezed his cock firmly for a few seconds and a tingling feeling coursed through me. I keep squeezing the bulge for a few moments more when suddenly, Carlos moved. My hand flew off his cock and I stepped back. But I needn’t have worried. Carlos didn’t wake up and was just moving in his sleep. Hurriedly, I put the cover over him, walked over to turn out the light, and then walked out and closed the door.

Out in the hall, I leaned weakly against the door. What an idiot I’d been! I loved Carlos too much as a friend to risk losing his friendship over my hormones going into overdrive. I vowed then and there to control myself so that Carlos would have a safe haven until he worked out his problems with Rosa.

But, like many vows that people take, it’s easier to make than to keep.

 ###

After Carlos’s first night, things settled down to a routine around the house. We’d both get up, him at 5 AM and me at 6 AM, get ready, and go to our jobs. Carlos worked in a petrochemical plant and I worked in a real estate office. We’d usually talk to each other once or twice a day, but I didn’t bring up Rosa and the kids unless he did. Some days he would tell me what was going on and other days, he’d say nothing. Carlos seemed like his old self. But you could tell that being away from his boys, and dealing with his problems with Rosa, weighed him down.

Carlos normally got home before me. When I got home, I’d usually cook dinner or we’d send out for delivery. Sometimes, we’d go out and eat at a restaurant or fast food place. Then we’d kick back in the living room and watch TV. Sometimes it was sports, other times it was a movie, or something else.

It was nice having Carlos around the house because we got along so well. I must admit though, that there was one thing that made it difficult for me at times. Carlos was used to walking around in his home with very little on. And he continued to do that at my place.

One night during his second week, I called him to dinner. Carlos came out of his bedroom and walked to the table. I turned around from the counter and almost dropped the food. He was wearing nothing but some Calvin Klein boxer briefs and a wife beater shirt.

Carlos’s muscular pecs stretched the front of the shirt and I could see his nipples protruding through the material. His chest pushed out so far, the rest of the shirt beneath it just hung there.

When I set the food down on the table, Carlos walked over to the refrigerator, and leaned in to get a Coke. My eyes followed his ass and I could feel my heart racing.

His briefs struggled to contain what was one of the most beautiful asses I’d ever seen. It was a classic bubble butt. Two complete, hard ovals of muscle. The muscle was so full that the material wedged up into his ass crack, outlining both of his ass cheeks. I could have dropped down on my knees right there, ripped open his briefs, and shoved my tongue up his ass.

Carlos got his Coke and I quickly sat down at the table. I didn’t want him to see the fucking boner that perfect muscle ass had given me. He sat down and started shoveling food in his mouth. Before I could talk, I had to swallow several times, my throat was so dry.

“So mano, you want to watch the basketball game with me tonight?”

“Nah. Beto’s picking me up and we’re going out with the guys. I wanna dance with some fine ass ladies tonight.”

Beto was one of his best friends from work. I had met him a couple of times. For some reason, something about Beto didn’t sit right with me. He was always talking about his girlfriend and pussy. But something made me feel there was more to Beto than what I saw. I mean, he was a nice enough guy. But when he and Carlos were together, many times Carlos would end up very drunk.

I had talked to Beto once about watching that Carlos didn’t drink too much, since he had gotten put out his house for it and that he and his ex-wife were trying to work it out. But Beto just laughed and said, “He’s a big boy, Ian. He can take care of himself.” It was almost if he went out of his way to get Carlos drunk.

I laughed. “Oh, you think some fine ass lady is gonna WANT to dance with you? I highly doubt it!”

Carlos grinned and said, “Fuck you, pendejo! I’ve never had any trouble getting the women to dance with me. I’m a helluva dancer.”

He was right there. I’d seen him dance before and he knew how to move his hot body on the floor.

I shrugged. “Yeah, okay. You are. But try not to get too messed up.”

Carlos just laughed. That gleam I knew so well came back in his eye.

“What, you don’t think I can handle my liquor?”

I shrugged.

“Whatever, dude. I’m not your parent. You can do what you want.”

Carlos laughed again and reached out and slapped my arm.

“No, you’re not my father. But you are my brother. And I know you care. So, I’ll be a good boy.”

He paused a moment and then said, “Why don’t you come out with us? You’d have fun.”

I looked doubtful.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I’ve been out with your friends before. They get a little wild at times.”

 “So? You could use a little excitement in your life, mano. You’re starting to act like an old man.”

“Yeah, whatever, Mister Mature! If I act too old at times, then you act waaaaay too young.”

Carlos laughed and kept eating. I mulled it over a few minutes and then thought ‘fuck it’. It might not be such a bad idea to go with him after all. I mean, when Carlos went dancing, he looked like a sex machine. Of course, he wore more when he was dancing than what he was wearing right now. But at least I could enjoy watching his hot muscle body gyrating and flexing as he danced.

“You know, mano, I think I will. I haven’t been out in a while. So, if you and your friends don’t mind, then I might tag along.”

Carlos smiled and said, “Cool, mano! They won’t care. They’re usually so busy drinking, they couldn’t care less who’s around. So, get your dancing clothes on and let’s do it!”

After we finished eating, we both got ready. Being around Carlos at a club was somewhat intimidating because he looked so good. But I finally decided to quit worrying about it and just wore something casual. After all, I wasn’t picking up anybody. At least, I wasn’t planning on it.

I went out to the living room and waited on Carlos. After 15 minutes, I shouted, “Mano, what the hell’s taking you so long? You jerking off in there?”

I heard something from Carlos’s room and laughed. After another minute, he came walking into the living room.

Fuck.

When I said he looked like a sex machine, I wasn’t kidding. Carlos was wearing some old jeans that were ripped in just the right place, and a white sleeveless T-shirt. The color matched perfectly with his body and emphasized how truly built he was.

His huge chest more than filled the shirt and you could clearly see his nipples through it. And his arms. My god, they were massive! Add to that his ever present cock bulge, full, muscular ass, and that gorgeous smile. Fuck, he was just dripping with sexual heat. I was certainly going to have a great time watching him tonight.

Carlos grinned his sexiest grin. “I don’t need to jerk off, mano. I’ll have one of my women do that later!”

I laughed and heard Beto’s car pull up outside.

“Whatever, you slut! Just try not to get too wasted, will ya?”

Carlos grabbed me by the shoulders and we walked to the door.

“Yes, Daddy,” he said chuckling.

Beto seemed a little surprised to see me walking out with Carlos. And even more surprised when Carolos told him I was coming along with them. But I didn’t give a damn. I don’t know what it was, but something just didn’t seem right about him. I ignored it and was determined to have a good time watching Carlos dance.

We got to the club, Meteor, about 8:30. The place is big and has a helluva sound system. The booze is good, too. Plus, there’s all sorts of little alcoves, with chairs or couches, that aren’t well lit and are fairly dark. You can usually find couples making out in them. But because they’re close to the main dance floor, the bouncers usually patrol it closely and usher them out. If you get far enough back in the alcove though, no one will see you from the floor. And won’t know you are there unless they walk in on you.

When we walked in Meteor, Beto grabbed Carlos’s arm and ushered him to the main bar. I followed and met two more of their friends, Hector and Andres. They had been there a while and were waiting on Beto and Carlos to arrive.

I have to admit that Hector and Andres were two fine ass looking motherfuckers. They were gym boys and I enjoyed checking them out. I had to be unobtrusive about it though, because straight Latino boys don’t like you to even think about trying something with them. Carlos worked out with them from time to time and their bodies were almost as hot as his was. Almost. But they didn’t have his charisma or charm.

By 11, the club was starting to rock. Carlos, Beto, Hector, and Andres had been drinking, talking, and eyeing the women. I was drinking with them and chimed in from time to time. But I was listening and watching more than talking. Overall, they pretty much ignored me.

Beto grinned at Carlos and said, “So, how about it cabron? You ready to get out there with that bitch that’s been eyeing you the last hour?”

Carlos was playing it cool and barely looked at her. He had drunk several shots of tequila and you could tell he was feeling it. He was slurring his words a little when he spoke.

“Yeah, she’s pretty hot. Reminds me of Rosa.”

Beto rolled his eyes, put his arm around Carlos’s shoulders, and said, “Cabron, Rosa’s at home, not here. You need to forget about her and get into that bitch, Maria. She’s definitely feelin’ you.”

Hector and Andres were drinking their beer and watching the dance floor. From time to time, they’d glance at Carlos and Beto, and then look at each other and smile. I guess they were used to Carlos’s comments about Rosa.

Carlos grinned and flexed his arms.

“Fuck yeahhh, you’re right! And I’m about to be feelin’ on her!”

With that, he walked over to where the girl was standing. As he left, I watched his sexy, muscle ass flex and move in his tight jeans. I took a swig of beer, looked over at Beto, Hector, and Andres and was surprised to find them watching Carlos as well.

Andres leaned over to Hector, and Beto said something. They grinned, and I heard Beto say, “You got that right. See what you can do to get him loosened up more. Then we’ll see what happens.” Hector and Andres nodded and turned back, watching Carlos and the girl talk.

After a while, they all went out on the dance floor. Carlos was one of the most noticeable dancers on the floor. He not only had a sexy body, he really knew how to dance. A lot of guys try to be cool on the floor when they are dancing. But Carlos really moves, gyrating, grinding and thrusting his body. He had a coordinated rhythm that he made his partner look good.

I grinned as he danced and got hard just watching him thrust his cock out and swivel his hot ass. After a few minutes, I walked out to where they were dancing and slapped Carlos on the shoulder.

He looked over at me and grinned.

“Manoooo!”

His slurred speech was more noticeable and it was obvious he was pretty drunk. He turned towards the girl, and said, “Maria . . . I . . . want chu meet Ian.”

Maria smiled at me and I smiled and nodded back. “He’s my beeeeest frien’ and brudder,” Carlos said. “Been there for me luuung time. Ain’t dat right, manoooo?” I just kept smiling and shrugged it off.

Carlos drunkenly laughed and started dancing all around Maria. She was a pretty good dancer herself and managed to keep up with him. I pulled away and started dancing by myself. But Carlos pulled me back towards them, so that we formed a little threesome. From time to time, I’d glance back at the bar and see Beto standing there, carefully watching us. I didn’t see Hector or Andres, so I thought maybe they had left.

I was wrong.

Suddenly, Hector and Andres showed up next to us, dancing, and looking just as hot and sexy as Carlos. I was surprised because they weren’t dancing with any women. I wondered if they were interested in Maria. Carlos saw them, grinned, and nodded for them to join us. Hector stood next to Maria and Andres next to Carlos.

We danced and danced for the next hour. Carlos kept dancing with Maria but from time to time, Hector would cut in and start dancing with her. Carlos didn’t seem to mind until Andres moved in front of him and tried to dance with him. Carlos would get a strange look on his face and turn back towards Maria.

That happened several times. Finally, Carlos slapped Andres on the arm, and said, “Vatoooo . . . youuu . . . good dancer but . . . buuuut . . . not good as . . . ‘ria. Let meeeee . . . kick it . . . with her . . . ‘kaaay?”

Andres laughed and moved slightly away from Carlos.

“Sure, ese. But maybe we can both kick it with her . . . you know?”

The music was great, the lights flashing, and all seemed right with the world. Andres and Hector left and came back several times, bringing back more tequila shots for Carlos, and beers for them. They had offered to buy me beer, but I just wanted to dance and enjoy the music. I closed my eyes and just swayed as the music surrounded me. I didn’t know where Beto was, but frankly, I didn’t give a shit. I was just feeling good.

As we danced, the five of us got closer and closer. One time when I opened my eyes, I saw Hector dancing with Maria again, while Carlos just twisted to his own beat with his eyes closed. He seemed out of it, which meant he was probably drunk as hell.

As I kept looking at Carlos, I noticed Andres moved back over and was dancing behind him now. He seemed to move closer to him little by little. I looked over at Hector and Maria, and saw Maria lean over and say something to Hector. He nodded and they left the floor. Carlos was so out of it, he didn’t notice Maria had left. He, Andres, and I continued dancing.

As we danced, I noticed that we had moved away from the main floor and were near one of the darker, remote alcoves. It was so dark, I couldn’t tell if anyone was in there.

Hector suddenly appeared and had two shot glasses. He handed one to Carlos and smiled.

“Drink up, vato. Maria’s in the restroom getting pretty for you.”

Carlos reached out slowly, grabbed the shot glass, and tossed it down his throat. He put his hand out with the empty glass. Hector took it and put the second one in his hand. I didn’t think that was a good idea, because it was obvious that Carlos was almost completely wasted.

I looked over and said, “Hector, don’t you think . . .”

From behind Carlos, Andres said, “Ian, don’t worry, cabron. He’s pretty tight tonight. We’re just trying to get him loose, so he’ll feel chill when he’s fucking Maria.”

I didn’t say anything more and Carlos tossed back the second shot. Hector and Andres looked at each other and smiled.

Even though I was feeling buzzed, I wasn’t getting good vibes. Something was strange here and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. We were far off the dance floor now and there was just enough light to be able to see us dimly. While I could see Carlos, Hector, and Andres, we couldn’t be seen from the dance floor unless someone knew we were there, or just came over close and happened to stumble upon us.

Minutes passed. I continued to slowly dance to the music in the dark, enjoying my buzz, and letting the good time envelope me. I glanced over at Carlos. He was barely dancing and his movements were erratic. I felt sure he was probably close to passing out, and just shook my head.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Andres slowly move behind Carlos. He watched him dance a moment, then slowly put his hands on Carlos’s shoulders and began to rub them gently. After rubbing them a few moments, Andres leaned forward and spoke.

“Relax, vatoooo . . . relaaaax . . .” Andres murmured.

Carlos kept moving, but you could see his body start to respond. Andres continued rubbing his shoulders and soon, his hands started moving down, squeezing, rubbing, and massaging Carlos’s heavily muscled back. As Andres moved his hands down, Hector came over and put his hands on Carlos’s shoulders from the front. He too started rubbing and massaging them. They continued massaging him until Carlos was so relaxed, he was barely swaying on his feet.

As Carlos’s movement slowed, Hector began to run his hands down Carlos’s shirt front, gripping his solid chest and twisting his nipples.

In the dim light, I saw Hector smile as he spoke to Carlos.

“Yeah, vato. You’ve got hard muscles. Fucking man muscles. You’re all man, cabron.”

He slid his hands under Carlos’s shirt and grabbed his huge pecs.

“Yeah, fucker. Your stud body is all man. All hot, sexy fucking man.”

By this time, I had completely stopped dancing and was just watching from the shadows. I’m not even sure Hector and Andres realized I was still there. I started to speak and tell them to stop, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from what was happening. I could feel the blood rush into my cock and was surprised that I was getting hard watching the two men fondle Carlos.

When Hector grabbed his pecs, Carlos reached up weakly and tried to push his hands off.

“C’mon, mannnn . . .” Carlos mumbled.

Hector’s smile got bigger and he kept squeezing Carlos’s chest. Little by little, he managed to push Carlos’s shirt up till it was above his pecs.

“Ease up, ese. I’m tryin’ to help you. Just relaxxxx. Let this feel good.”

While Hector was stroking and squeezing Carlos’s chest, Andres’s hands had worked their way down Carlos’s back. When he got to Carlos’s waist, he grabbed the edges of his sleeveless shirt, and slowly pulled it up.

As Andres pulled the shirt up, Hector grabbed Carlos’s arms and lifted them up. As Carlos’s arms went up, Andres kept pulling the shirt up until it was over Carlos’s head and off his body.

Carlos’s massive chest was glistening with sweat and his nipples stuck out like little bullets.

Carlos barely struggled as they stripped his shirt off and kept muttering, “Dudeeeee . . . stop. Stop itttttt.”

Andres tossed Carlos’s shirt on the floor and moved up right behind him, pushing his crotch against Carlos’s ass. I could see the huge bulge in Andres’s jeans and watched him shove it forward a few times, as if trying to fuck Carlos with his jeans on. Hector had moved up in front of Carlos, and they practically had his body sandwiched between them.

I was shocked and turned on at the same time. As far as I knew, Hector and Andres were straight. But here they were, stripping Carlos and fondling his body. Carlos was obviously completely wasted and it was difficult for him to stop them. As they continued to touch him, he kept mumbling. I couldn’t make out what he was saying but I’m sure he was trying to get them to stop. Whatever he said though, it wasn’t working.

Now that Carlos’s shirt was off, Hector went back to squeezing his pecs, twisting his nipples, and rubbing his hands all over his chest and upper arms. Andres stayed behind him, humping on Carlos’s tight ass, and running his hands over his abs in front. Carlos kept muttering and trying to move, but the tequila had taken its toll. I’m not even sure he knew where he was or what was going on. His movements got slower and his speech more slurred.

As Andres humped Carlos’s ass, he leaned forward and spoke.

“Vato, come on! Relax!”

He pumped Carlos’s ass again.

“Relax and let this happen. We’ll make you feel good.”

Andres started rubbing his hard bulge up and down Carlos’s big, muscle ass.

“Just relax, ese! Let go. Let us show you.”

While Andres kept rubbing his hard cock up and down on Carlos’s ass, he moved his hands around to Carlos’s chest. Slowly, he slide them down until he was massaging Carlos’s abs. Little by little, his hands went lower until they came to rest on Carlos’s belt buckle.

Andres started whispering in Carlos’s ear, but I could not hear what he was saying. As he whispered, his fingers slowly pulled at the belt buckle until he had the belt undone. Hector reached down and pulled the belt off and tossed it aside.

Carlos was barely moving, and the two men could tell there was not much fight left in him. Hector started to get more aggressive. He leaned down and started to lick Carlos’s chest, flicking his tongue over his nipples and finally sucked one into his mouth. Andres’s kept humping and sliding his hard cock on Carlos’s ass, and started rubbing his abs again. A few moments later, I saw him reach down and pop the button on Carlos’s jeans. He looked at Hector with an evil smile and nodded.

While Andres started whispering again in Carlos’s ear, Hector looked down and found the zipper to his jeans. He slowly pulled it down.

As he lowered the zipper, Hector looked back at Carlos’s face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was getting slower, the struggle in him all but gone. A broad smile appeared on Hector’s face when the zipper stopped. He knew that there was now nothing preventing him and Andres from getting into Carlos’s pants.

Andres stepped back and looked at Carlos’s ass. With a huge smile, he carefully ran his hands inside of the jeans. I could see the outline of his hands as they came to rest on Carlos’s full, muscular ass. Andres exhaled a moan of pleasure and you could see his hands start squeezing and fondling it. As I watched, I felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing it was me who was copping a feel of that hot ass.

Hector moved closer to Carlos as well, pulled open the front of his jeans, and reached inside.

“Fuck, ese,” Hector hissed. “You ought to feel the pinga grande that’s in here!”

“Hell, vato!” Andres said. “You gotta FEEL this ass! I’ve been wanting this shit for a long time.” He looked up and smirked. “And now I’ve got it.”

Hearing them talk about Carlos like he was a piece of meat started pissing me off. They evidently had forgotten I was there and I was about to step forward, when Hector spoke up.

“Let’s do it, ese.”

Andres laughed and nodded.

I watched as Andres put his arms around Carlos’s shoulders. Hector squatted down and started pulling on Carlos’s jeans, struggling to pull them down. Within a minute, the jeans were down and Carlos just stood there in nothing but his CK bikini briefs, his jeans bunched around his ankles.

Looking at Carlos stripped practically naked, I could feel my cock start to get hard and my lips were dry. Here I was, in a club, with people dancing near me, back in a dark alcove, watching two guys stripping the clothes off my best friend, so they could do . . . whatever. It was dangerous and erotic and exciting, all at the same time. I rubbed the hard bulge in my pants, wondering what they would do next.

Suddenly, a dark figure walked up, and a voice rang out.

“Fuckers! What do you think you’re doing?” Beto shouted.

“What the fuck do you think we’re doing, Beto?” Hector hissed. “Something we’ve been needing to do for a long time, ese.”

Beto moved forward and grabbed Carlos from them. Carlos was so out of it, he practically fell down and Beto had to struggle to get him up.

“Bullshit! That wasn’t the deal. You weren’t supposed to strip him in public, you fucking pendejos! Get his shit back on!”

Beto started pulling up his jeans, and I could hear Carlos grunt as they struggled to pull them back up his muscular legs. When they finally got them up, Hector zipped and buttoned them while Carlos just stood there.

“Where’s his fucking belt and shirt?” Beto murmured.

Andres looked around, picked them up off the floor, and handed them to Hector. He helped Beto put them back on Carlos. I was still watching from the shadows, and in less than 2 minutes, Carlos was fully clothed again, and Beto was holding on to him.

“You better hope he doesn’t remember this shit.” Beto said. “How could you be so fucking STUPID?!!”

He looked around. “Where’s Ian?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Andres said. “He was dancing with us and then disappeared.”

“Good,” Beto said. “He and Carlos are tight. If he knew what happened and told Carlos, it’ll ruin everything. Not to mention that we’ll all get our asses kicked.”

He looked at the practically passed out Carlos and said, “Now, help me get him back to the bar. I’ll find Ian and take him and Carlos home. And you’d better pray to God, that Carlos is so wasted, he won’t remember this.” I watched as Hector and Andres helped Beto take Carlos back to the main bar.

I stayed where I was a few minutes, trying to figure out what to do. I knew I had to get back so that Beto could take me home. But I tried to make sense out of what Beto said.

Had he, Andres, and Hector planned this? From the sound of it, they had planned something, but obviously Hector and Andres fucked it up some way, since Beto was so angry. I decided to wait and talk to Carlos tomorrow to see what he remembered.

When I walked back to the Meteor main bar, Beto was there, but Andres and Hector were nowhere to be seen. Carlos was slumped on one of the bar stools.

“Ian! Finally! Where you been?” Beto asked.

“Uhhh, I was dancing with Carlos and Maria, and she went to the restroom. I went too, cuz I had to take a wicked piss, man.”

Beto laughed. “Sounds like it. You were gone a long time.” I could tell Beto was trying to find out how much I knew about what had happened.

I grinned, and said, “Yeah, I ran into a friend of mine after I left the restroom and we got to talking. What were you, Hector, Andres, and Carlos doing?” I looked around. “Where’s Maria?”

Beto smiled. “She decided to go with some friends of hers to go dancing at Pacific Street. They’re having a Ladies Night there.”

“Ah, okay.”

I looked over at Carlos, who was still slumped over.

“Looks like he’s had too much fucking tequila again,” I laughed, looking back at Beto.

“Yeah. You know how Carlos is with that shit.” Beto said. “Hector and Andres had to leave. I’m a little tired myself. You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s get the alcoholic and go home.”

We practically carried Carlos to the car and dumped him in the back seat. When we got home, Beto helped me get Carlos inside and in his bedroom.

“Looks like Carlos is gonna have a long sleep, eh?” Beto grinned.

I laughed.

“Yeah, looks like it. Hey, thanks for taking us tonight. And thanks for helping me with him. I’m sure you wished the night had turned out differently.”

Beto looked at me strangely for a moment, wondering if there was any hidden meaning behind my words.

When I kept smiling, he started smiling back and said, “Well, it is what it is. Yeah, maybe next time will turn out better.”

He glanced at Carlos, laid out on his bed, passed out.

“Better for me, better for him . . .” Beto looked at me “. . . better for everyone.”

Taking one last look at Carlos, he walked out of his bedroom. I walked with him to the house door, when he turned around and said, “Goodnight, Ian. I’m sure we’ll get together again.”

I smiled. “Later, Beto.”

As I closed the door, I thought some more about the night. I could tell Carlos about what I saw with Andres and Hector, but that would create more problems for me. Because the only way I could tell Carlos what I saw is if I admitted that I was watching it. And if I did that, Carlos would obviously want to know why I didn’t stop it.

And he’d be right.

As I got in bed and pulled the covers over me, I knew the right thing to do would be to tell him. But I knew that the smart thing to do was to just say nothing. After all, nothing had really happened.

Carlos got up the next morning and had a bad hangover. As I thought, he didn’t remember much. Since he didn’t say much about it, I decided not to stir the pot by asking anything. And anyway, probably nothing like this would happen in the future.

I wasn’t a very good prophet.

###

By the end of the first month, it was obvious that Carlos was stressing out more about his situation with Rosa and the kids. I would ask him how things were going, but he usually ended up getting angry about it, so I quit bringing it up.

That didn’t stop him from going out though and drinking. I tried to talk with him about it and got the same response each time.

“I’m a big boy, Ian. I know you care. But you’re doing enough by just giving me a peaceful place to stay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

And so, as he requested, I didn’t worry about him. At least, I didn’t let him know that I worried. And every time he’d go out with his friends, I wondered if Hector, Andres, or Beto would try something with him again. But, as Carlos said, he’s a big boy. And there wasn’t much I could do but be there for him if he needed me.

And, as it turned out, he did need me. He just didn’t know he did.

One night during dinner, I asked Carlos if he was gonna watch the basketball playoff game with me.

“Thanks, mano, but Beto invited me over to his house tonight. We’re gonna kick back.”

I froze a moment when I heard that. I don’t remember Beto ever inviting Carlos over to his place before. They usually went out to a bar or club.

Nonchalantly, I asked, “Really? Are you going to watch the game there?”

Carlos swallowed his food and said, “I don’t know. Maybe. He just caught me at work today and said to come over. I think he has a girl he wants to introduce me to.”

I didn’t say anything and just looked at my food. Carlos knew me so well, he could pick up on my thoughts.

“Don’t worry, Ian,” he grinned. “I’m not gonna get drunk. In fact, I don’t plan on drinking much at all. I’ve had too much lately, and I need to cut back.”

He paused and then laughed, “Anyway, I know ‘Daddy Ian’ doesn’t like me drinking too much. Even though I’m a big boy.”

I smiled and said, “I told you, I’m not your Daddy. I just care, mano.”

Carlos smiled back and said, “I know, mano. I’m just bullshitting you. And I always appreciate your caring. But as I said, I don’t plan on getting drunk tonight.”

I nodded and said, “I hope not. And if you do, call me and let me know. I’ll come pick you up. I don’t want you driving drunk.”

Carlos grinned and said, “Okay Dad.” He finished eating his dinner and walked past me to put his dishes in the sink.

After cleaning up after dinner, I settled down to watch the game. Carlos left to go over to Beto’s and as he left, told me he wouldn’t be too late. I finished watching the game and turned off the TV about 11:30, pissed because my team lost. Carlos hadn’t come back but I went on to bed. After all, both he and Beto were right. He was a big boy and could make his own decisions.

I was sound asleep, when I heard a sound down the hall. It sounded like the door to Carlos’s bedroom. I looked at the clock and it was 2:30 AM. I snorted and thought ‘if that’s what Carlos calls not being late, he has a lousy sense of time’. I lay in bed listening to make sure he was alright.

For some reason, it was strangely quiet. I thought that odd, because Carlos usually takes a shower before he goes to bed. But I didn’t hear him in the bathroom. In fact, I didn’t hear any other noise at all.

I got up out of bed and walked down the hall. I could see the light under the door in Carlos’s room, but still no noise. I wondered if Carlos had gotten drunk and passed out again.

So, I quietly opened the door. And what I saw gave me the shock of my life.

He was in his room alright. But he wasn’t alone.

Carlos was passed out on his bed, wearing only the pair of boxer briefs I’d seen earlier in the evening. His other clothes were strewn about on the floor and Beto was sitting on the bed next to him. One of Beto’s hands was rubbing Carlos’s chest and the other hand was rubbing his crotch. Carlos’s cock was starting to swell as Beto rubbed it and his nipples were hard little points.

As I stood there speechless, Beto leaned down and started sucking on Carlos’s nipples. I saw Carlos’s cock getting bigger and Beto trying to reach in through the opening of the briefs. After a few moments, his hand was inside, holding Carlos’s hardening cock.

All this time, Carlos was totally out of it and unaware that Beto was fondling him. Beto pulled his mouth off one of Carlos’s nipples. As he slowly caressed his face, I heard him speak to the passed-out stud.

“Oh yeah, puta. You’re gonna be my bitch tonight. MY bitch!”

Beto leaned closer, smiled, and said, “I’m finally gonna fuck your ass, cabron. I’ve waited a long time to get in that tight culo of yours. And now I’m gonna fuck it good.”

I was shocked when I heard Beto say that and I finally found my voice.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?”

Beto’s hands flew off Carlos and he jumped up.

“IAN! Shit! You scared the fuck outta me!”

He stood there looking at me and I could tell he was drunk. His face was red, and you could smell the alcohol on him.

“Beto, what the hell are you doing? Why are you fucking around with Carlos?”

I looked down at the unconscious muscle boy on the bed.

“What happened to him?”

Beto stumbled backwards. He steadied himself and said, “Nothing, Ian. We were . . . just drinking . . . at my house. Carlos had . . . had . . . too much tequila and I . . . I brought him home.”

Angrily, I looked back at Beto.

“Oh, you just brought him home, huh? And you just happened to ‘help’ him out of his clothes? Did you think you could just fuck him and no one would know?”

“I wasn’t trying to . . . fuck him. I was just . . . uhhhh . . . just uhhhh . . .”

“Yeah, I could tell what you were just ‘trying’ to do.”

I looked back at Carlos. His cock was still hard, and I could see it through the opening where Beto had reached in.

As my glance slowly moved up Carlos’s muscled body to his chest, I licked my lips. Beto must have noticed.

“So, Ian . . . you uh . . . you know . . . interested?”

I looked back at Beto quickly. He had a leering grin on his face as he looked at me.

“What the fuck you mean, am I interested? In what?”

“You know.” He paused. “Carlos.”

I could feel my face redden and I raised my voice. “What the fuck kinda question is that?”

Beto walked closer to me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. As he leaned over, he put his hand on my shoulder.

“Cabron, I saw how you just looked at him.”

I started to protest, until Beto said, “Look, I know you’re gay. But I don’t care. And even though I like pussy . . .” he paused and looked down at Carlos . . . “I got other needs too.”

He kept looking over at Carlos and I followed his gaze.

“Hot motherfucker, ain’t he?”

I didn’t say anything and Beto continued.

“I’ve wanted to fuck him for a long time. And I’ve almost gotten that tight ass a couple of times when he was wasted.”

Again, he paused a moment, looked back at me, and said, “But that bitch Rosa got her claws into him and he stopped running around with me. So, when I found out she’d kicked him out, I knew I had a chance again. And I wasn’t about to miss my chance to fuck him this time.” Beto started chuckling.

“I got him to come over tonight and we started drinking tequila. You know how that shit fucks him up. He wanted to stop after a couple. But I kept giving him shots all night until he was totally out of it. The more he drank, the more I started grabbing him . . . his chest . . . his cock . . . his ass. He got so messed up, that after a while, he didn’t know what the hell was going on and didn’t even try to stop me.”

He looked back at Carlos and smiled.

“Finally, he was almost out, and I knew it was time to get that ass.”

The lust in his voice increased.

“I got him on my bed, pulled those tight jeans off, pushed his legs back, and got between them. I was just about to fuck him . . . when suddenly, he started waking up, babbling that he had to leave. I told him he was too drunk to drive home. But he said that you’d get mad if he didn’t come back, blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t convince him to stay.” Beto started chuckling again.

“So, I figured that if I couldn’t get him to stay at my place, I’d just bring him over here and fuck him. I drove him back and it was hell trying to keep him awake until we got here. He finally passed out as we came through the door. He’s so fucking heavy, I almost didn’t get him in here.”

Beto paused and smiled wider. “But I finally did. Got him in his room, stripped him down . . . and was just about to fuck the shit out of him . . . when you walked in . . .”

I couldn’t believe all I was hearing. I knew there was always something shady about Beto, but I had no idea it was all about trying to seduce Carlos.

I looked back over at Beto and started getting angry.

“Motherfucker, get the hell out of my house now! And don’t ever come back here! I can’t believe you’ve only been friends with Carlos all these years, just so you can fuck him.”

Beto looked at me with that leering grin.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent, Ian. I know you want him too.”

He paused a moment, and then said, “And that’s fine. Because we can both fuck him tonight.”

When he said that, I looked back at Carlos.

Beto leaned in closer to me and whispered, “Yeahhhh . . . you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ve been wanting to fuck Carlos’s tight muscle ass, too, haven’t you?” I didn’t answer.

I could feel Beto’s breath against my face.

“Go ahead. Fuck him.” Beto started chuckling again.

“BUT . . . I’m fucking him first.”

I looked back at Beto as he spoke.

“I’ve waited too long to get my cock in that ass. And I’m gonna be the first person to finally spread those muscled cheeks, get my cock in that tight hole, and fuck Carlos like he needs to be fucked.”

He paused again.

“And once I’m done fucking him, then stud boy is all yours. You can do whatever you want.”

I looked back at Carlos, who was totally oblivious about what was being said about him. He just lay there. Ready. And waiting. Totally unaware that within moments, he was about to get his ass fucked by his ‘straight’ friend . . . and his best friend.

Beto followed my glance and looked back at Carlos.

“And after we’ve fucked him, trust me . . . there are more people that are gonna fuck his sexy ass as well.”

Startled, I looked back quickly at Beto.

“More?”

Beto looked back at me with an evil smile.

“Sure. You think you’re the only gay boy in town? Carlos is the hottest piece of ass out there. Hector, Andres, and several others have wanted to fuck him bad for a long time. Just like me. Only they never had the nerve to try it.” He looked at Carlos.

“But when I tell them that I’ve fucked him, and you’ve fucked him . . . wellll . . . that’ll change. Hell, they’ll take him to the bars every night, get him wasted, and have their cocks in that straight hole before he knows it. His muscle ass is gonna get fucked a LOT! You can count on it.”

Beto chuckled again.

“Carlos has just never realized that perfect ass of his was made to be fucked. And there are a lot of people who will do anything to fuck it.”

I looked back at Carlos and didn’t say anything.

Seconds passed, and Beto finally said, “If you’re scared he’ll find out, don’t be. He’s so fucked up from the tequila, he’ll never know what happened.”

He looked back over at the passed-out muscle stud, licked his lips, and then back at me.

“So, c’mon, Ian. How about it? Let’s do it. We may never get another chance like this.”

When I still didn’t say anything, Beto hissed, “C’mon cabron! That tight ass needs a good fucking.” He paused. “And I need to fuck it NOW!”

Another pause.

“Dude, c’mon! You KNOW you want it. Admit it.”

I kept looking at Carlos. He was so fucking hot on the bed. His muscles on full display. Hard cock ready to be sucked. And that beautiful ass just waiting to be fucked.

The body I’d always lusted after was right there for the taking.

My cock was hard, and it kept telling me to ‘go for it, dude’.

And Beto was right. Carlos would never know. And we’d both get what we’d wanted for a long time.

Slowly, I turned my gaze away, walked over to the door of the bedroom and opened it wide.

“Get the fuck out, Beto. Don’t ever come here again.”

Beto just glared at me for a few seconds. The seconds ticked away.

Finally, he looked over at Carlos, shook his head, and walked out of the bedroom. I followed him to the door of the house.

“Beto, if you ever try to fuck with Carlos again, I’m going to tell him what happened tonight. You may think you can get him so wasted that he’ll never know. But I’ll know. And I’ll tell him. And you know he’ll believe me.”

I paused a moment, and in a louder voice said, “And when I tell him, he’ll go and fuck you up. Bad.”

Beto just stared at me. I kept staring back at him and finally said, “You KNOW he will. Admit it.”

Beto still didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then, with a look of fury, he said, “FUCK you, Ian.”

I laughed. “You’re welcome to. Just don’t plan on fucking Carlos.”

Beto turned and started walking to his car. I closed the door, locked it, and leaned back against it.

After a few minutes, I went back to Carlos’s room. He was still in the same position he was in when I left with Beto. I got the cover off the end of the bed and stared at the unconscious hunk of muscle on the bed.

Beto was right. I did want Carlos. Very much. And he was right too when he said I’d never have another chance to have sex with him.

But I couldn’t do it this way. I loved Carlos as a brother too much to take advantage of him. Especially when he was in such pain in his life.

Taking one last look at the handsome well-built stud before me, I smiled and put the cover over him.

“Sweet dreams, Carlos.”

###

I went to bed trying not to think about what had happened. But it was difficult because I was still shocked by all that had taken place. I never in a million years would have guessed that someone like Beto would try to take advantage of Carlos. Especially since he knew Carlos was straight. And it bothered me even more that Beto tried to do it by getting him drunk, so he could do what he wanted without Carlos knowing.

But one little small part of me understood the allure of Carlos for other men. Physically, he had about as perfect a body as you could find. And hormones don’t care what a person’s sexual orientation is. All they know is what they see and what they like. And god knows there was plenty to like with Carlos.

But there was also Carlos’s personality and irreverent style of talking. Someone could easily take his comments as flirting. Unless they’d known Carlos for a long time and knew he was just a playful person. Always saying things just to get a rise out of you. And when Carlos let his guard down and you saw what a loving person he was, a guy could easily be attracted to that. So, any one of those qualities, or even all of them combined, would make Carlos a prime catch for any guy.

I tossed and turned for a while and finally fell asleep. When the alarm went off at 6 AM, I felt like shit and dreaded going in to work. I didn’t hear any noise and wondered if Carlos was awake. I put on my robe, went to Carlos’s bedroom, and looked in. He was still sound asleep, although he had turned on his side sometime during the night. I quietly walked back to my room and texted my boss that I was sick and wouldn’t be in today. I decided to stay at home and make sure Carlos was okay.

After my shower, I walked back into Carlos’s room and sat down on the bed. He was snoring, and I wasn’t surprised that he was still out of it. As I said, tequila had a hellacious effect on him.

I shook Carlos’s shoulder. No response.

“Carlos? Hey. Carlos.” He still didn’t wake up or even move. Finally, I used both of my hands, grabbed his arm and shook hard. “CARLOS! Wake up! C’mon wake UP!”

Carlos opened his eyes and slowly turned and looked at me. He blinked a couple of times, and then in a whisper said, “What?”

“Mano, its 6:30. Do you want me to call in to work for you?”

Carlos closed his eyes and didn’t respond. After a minute, with his eyes still closed, he said, “Yeah . . . thanks.” With that, he turned back over and went back to sleep.

I walked quietly out of the room, called Carlos’s supervisor, and told him he was sick. He thanked me and said to let him know if he couldn’t make it tomorrow. I told him I would and hung up.

I made some breakfast, read the paper, and just generally relaxed. I checked on Carlos from time to time, but I didn’t expect to see him any time soon. I was right.

Finally, the door to Carlos’s bedroom opened and he came walking out, still clothed in only the boxer briefs he’d worn last night. He was rubbing his face and sat down in the recliner, leaning back with his eyes closed. A small smile appeared on my face and I knew I’d have to be gentle with him.

“Soooo . . . you had a late night?” Carlos didn’t say anything, and I started laughing.

“Are you okay? You want anything to eat?”

With his eyes still closed, Carlos said, “No, I’m not hungry.” A few seconds later, he said, “My head feels like shit. I shouldn’t have drunk all that goddamn tequila last night. Fucking Beto . . .”

“You want some orange juice? Water? Anything?”

Carlos hesitated a moment, and then said, “Can you get me a small glass of OJ? That might be okay.”

I went and got the orange juice and set it down next to him. Carefully, I said, “Do you remember anything about last night, Carlos?”

Carlos leaned forward and sipped the juice slowly.

“Not much. We were drinking. Beto was . . . going on and on . . . about . . .” He paused and frowned. “Shit, I don’t know.” He sipped some more of the orange juice. “Maybe his girlfriend . . . or some pussy he was getting on the side . . . or . . . shit, I really don’t remember.”

Carlos put the glass down, closed his eyes again, and leaned back in the recliner. I watched him and waited. After a minute of silence, he opened his eyes again and smiled at me. Or more of a lopsided smile.

I smiled back, and said, “Well, it doesn’t surprise me you don’t remember. You were sound asleep when I woke up this morning.”

Carlos rubbed his face. When he spoke, his voice was a little stronger.

“I think he was talking about . . . some girls I ought to go out with now that I was single. Or something like that. And he kept giving me fucking shots of tequila.” He laughed weakly, and said, “I kept telling him to stop, but you know hard it is for me to quit when I start the shots.” He paused again. “I really don’t know how much I drank.”

I didn’t say anything and waited to decide what to tell him.

Carlos laughed weakly again and said, “You know Beto gets to acting weird when he’s fucked up. He kept punching me, telling me that all the women were after me. Trying to drag my body off to bed and fuck me. Or some shit like that.” He picked up the orange juice and drank some more.

“Then he started grabbing me and saying ‘Man, they all want your cock! They wanna suck your meat and slide it in their pussy.’ You know, stupid shit like that.”

Carlos paused a moment, and then said, “I kept pushing his hands off me, but he kept saying ‘what’s the matter? You such a pussy, you don’t think you got the shit for the women?’ and crap like that. I said ‘puta, I got what they need.’ And he would start grabbing me again. One time he even tried to grab my cock.” He paused again and finished drinking his orange juice.

“What did you do when he did that?” I asked.

A strange look came over Carlos’s face for a moment.

“Hmm . . . you know, I don’t really remember. I probably told him to fuck off. But I was so drunk, the rest is sort of a blur.”

He was silent a second. Then he grinned slightly and said, “Who knows. He could have been sucking my dick for all I know.”

I didn’t say anything, and Carlos continued. “So, if Beto gave me a blow job, I hope it was good. Because I don’t remember shit.”

I was surprised when Carlos said that. Would he really have not cared if another guy went down on him? That was something I had never heard before.

“Really? You wouldn’t have cared if he sucked you off?”

Carlos raised his eyebrows and said, “It’s not a matter of caring. If it happened, I was too fucked up to have stopped it. So why worry about something you can’t control?”

He paused a moment, and then smiling, said, “But I’m not worried. I don’t think Beto is into cock. He’s a pussy hound.”

Cautiously I asked, “Do you remember Beto driving you here?”

Carlos looked surprised.

“He did?” I nodded. “Well, that was nice of him. I think he wanted me to stay. But I told him I had to go home. I knew you would get pissed at me if I stayed out.”

He grinned a little more, shook his head, and said, “But no, I don’t remember how I got here. The last things I can really remember were closing my eyes and Beto pushing a shot glass to my lips.”

Yeah, I thought. Getting you so drunk so that he could get his cock in your tight hole and fuck you for hours.

Carlos obviously had no idea that Beto had been trying to fuck him for a long time. And that all that bullshit from last night was just another ploy for him to spread Carlos’s legs so he could plow his muscle ass.

Carlos must have noticed me thinking and asked, “Why do you ask? I mean, I know you’re probably pissed because I got drunk,” he said sheepishly.

He got up from the recliner and stood in front of me. “But I got home okay.”

I stood up as well, thinking about Beto’s treachery and said, “I know, Carlos. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Carlos leaned forward and grabbed me in a bear hug.

“I know, Ian. But I told you. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

As he held me in the hug, I felt the strength of his strong arms. And the bulge of his cock pressing into me. My cock started to expand, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before Carlos could tell I was getting hard. I knew I needed to break the hug but being in his arms felt so good. And having his cock rub on me felt even better.

He held me there a moment longer, and then pushed back, saying, “And thanks for calling in for me this morning. They’d have been fucking mad if I hadn’t showed up without calling in.”

With that, he turned and slowly headed towards his bathroom. My eyes following his full, tight ass every step of the way.

I guess I should have told him what really happened last night. It was the right thing to do.

But still, I hesitated.

On one hand, I knew that Beto would find a way to get Carlos alone again. After all, they were friends, and worked at the same place.

And Beto was ruthless. Carlos was just too tempting a prize for him to give up now. Especially since he’d come so close to fucking him last night.

So, I knew the next time Carlos got drunk and was alone with Beto, he was gonna get fucked. Beto would stop at nothing until he was fucking that tight, virgin ass hard and deep. He’d force more and more tequila down Carlos’s throat until he passed out. Then strip him and triumphantly take the ass he wanted for so long. And fuck that hot, sexy ass without Carlos even knowing.

I had no doubt that once Beto had tasted the forbidden fruit of that straight, muscular ass, he’d want to fuck it again. And when he realized he could do it AND get away with it, he’d fuck it again . . . and again . . . and again.

Beto knew that tequila was the key to getting him in Carlos’s hot hole. As long as he could continue unlocking that tight ass, he’d keep fucking it. All he had to do was keep getting Carlos totally drunk . . . totally wasted . . . and then fuck the hell out of him. As often as he wanted.

And if Beto was telling the truth, Hector, Andres, and others would be after him as well.

Getting him drunk.

Totally wasted.

And on his back.

Then, all they had to do was strip that muscular body, drape his legs over their shoulders, and slide their cocks into that tight ass for one sweet, sweet fuck.

On the other hand, Carlos himself said he was a ‘big boy’ and that he could take care of himself. After all, he was trying to get back with Rosa and the boys. If he did, he’d probably not be running around with Beto and his friends again anyway and the danger would be averted.

So, why was it my responsibility to remind him of what he already knew so well? Namely that he put himself at risk when he got drunk. If he chose not to think about the risks he took when that happened, it wasn’t my responsibility to keep pointing it out.

Then again, given the pain of what he was going through, I guess I could understand why he tended to ignore the risks. Drinking dulled the pain for him. It was his way of escape.

So, I kept quiet.

And, as usually happens, things returned to normal after a while. I must admit, Carlos still wandered around the house in next to nothing, and just looking at him would get my cock to stirring. But I finally came to enjoy looking at his hot muscular physique, even though the glances were done surreptitiously so that Carlos didn’t catch me looking.

Little did I know that my looks weren’t as concealed as I thought. And that Carlos saw a lot more than I ever knew.

###

After two months, things became pretty routine. I noticed that Carlos’s personality at times was becoming more reserved and sullen. He continued to go out, drink, and come home drunk. But not nearly as drunk as he did that night over at Beto’s.

I do know that he started doing his drinking at bars and with more of his friends. I’m sure Beto was in his group of friends when they went out, but Carlos never mentioned going over to his house. I thought it possible that, even though he didn’t remember too much about that night, he got weirded out about Beto fondling him. We didn’t talk about that night again, although he joked from time to time about whether I tried to catch him in his underwear the next morning.

He did mention that Beto had invited him over a couple of times. But he said that every time Beto asked, he was already meeting his friends elsewhere. That made me feel somewhat better, knowing that that shark Beto wasn’t going to find Carlos as easy a mark as he thought.

Carlos also shared with me his encounters with Rosa at their meetings with the counselor. It was obvious, from what he said, that he and Rosa had some irreconcilable issues between them. So, I questioned whether they’d be able to put their marriage back together. I only wanted both to be happy and move on with their lives. Especially Carlos.

But I knew there was one issue that continued to tear Carlos up.

His boys.

Rosa knew many of Carlos’s friends and knew he was still going out drinking. More and more she was refusing to let Carlos see them, although their divorce decree allowed regular visitation. He said that she told him at their last meeting with the counselor that she was going to go back to court and eliminate the visitation if he continued down his path of drunkenness and irresponsibility.

He was very angry about that and said he’d fight her all the way in court to prevent her from stopping him from seeing them again. When he would get reserved around me, I didn’t bother him, because I knew it had something to do with that.

So, all I could do was be there for him when he needed a friendly ear, or shoulder, or as it turns out, a friendly pair of hands.

###

One Friday night, I stayed up in the living room watching one of my favorite movies. About midnight, the door opened, and Carlos walked in. He was wearing a tight sports shirt and jeans. As always, his clothes hugged his muscular body and his sexiness was on full display. I was surprised, because he never came in this early on a weekend night.

“What the hell are you doing back so early?” I asked in an astonished voice.

Carlos gave me a lopsided grin and said, “Fuck you. You act as if I whore around all the time.”

I laughed and said, “No, I don’t think that. It’s just I don’t remember the last time you were in so early. Especially on a Friday night.”

Carlos was swaying as he walked further in the living room. I knew then that he’d had way too much to drink. I just hoped he wasn’t about to pass out.

As the grin slowly left his face, he said, “Yeah, wellllll . . . I just wanted to be by myself for a while.”

I smiled and said, “I hearya. I can go in my bedroom if you want to watch TV in here.”

Carlos looked at me quietly for a minute.

“No, that’s alright. You stay here.” He hesitated for a few seconds and then said, “Actually . . . I was wondering . . . if you’d do me a favor.”

Laughing, I said, “Now, mano, don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?”

“No. I don’t want a drink. That’s not the favor.”

His voice had a wistful, serious note in it and I knew immediately that something was different.

“Okay. What do you want?”

Carlos continued to look at me. After a few moments, that old mischievous grin started to appear on his lips and that glint I knew so well came in his eyes.

I was totally confused by this see-saw between his somber countenance and his old playfulness. He kept looking at me like he always did when he wanted to talk some smack to me.

After a few more moments, he said, “I was wondering if you would, uhhhh . . . be willing to give me . . .” He stopped.

I raised my eyebrows and said, “Yes? Give you what?

Carlos looked down a moment, and then back up. He stuck his chin out, as if daring me to question his request.

“Give me a massage.”

I was shocked.

“WHAT?”

Carlos grinned at me, and with that sexy lilt in his voice when he wants to put me down, said, “A massage. You DO know what a massage is . . . don’t you?”

Still surprised by his request, I said, “Bitch, I know what a massage is. I was just wondering why you wanted me to give you one.” With a smirk, I said, “I mean, you DO know that I’m not a massage therapist . . . don’t you?”

Carlos burped and then his drunken laugh boomed out.

“Yeah, I know. And I don’t expect perfection. Especially from YOU.”

He continued his drunken laughter a few moments more, and then looked serious again.

“I know it sounds strange but . . . I’m stressed out and I need to . . . relax.”

He paused a moment.

“I just want to be . . . home.”

He paused again, and then softly added, “With you.”

Whoa!

Did Carlos really just say the words ‘with you’? Did he really want to be here right now . . . with me?

It took me a minute to try to sift through all my thoughts. Carlos just stood there looking at me, swaying slightly. All sorts of things came together in my mind, didn’t quite connect, and then broke apart again. He wanted to be by himself. He wanted a massage. He wanted me to do it. He wanted to be “home”. With me.

I couldn’t make sense out of the swirl and after a few moments, stopped trying. Carlos was still quiet and just looked at me, although he’d close his eyes from time to time.

Finally, I shrugged my shoulders and answered him.

“Yeah. Sure. I guess. As long as you know I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

A broad smile broke out over Carlos’s face. God, he was so fucking handsome when he smiled!

He nodded and said, “Sure, I know. I just . . . appreciate you trying.”

“Okay then.” My hand pointed to the floor, and I said, “You want to lay down here?”

Carlos paused. “Nahhh . . . let’s do it in your bedroom.”

I was shocked again.

“MY bedroom? Why there?”

Carlos gave a slight laugh, hiccupped, and said, “Because you’ve got a firm king size bed, puta. Isn’t that what you told me? I’ve only got a full-size bed in my room and the mattress is soft.”

With a glint in his eyes, he added, “So yours is bigger. And it’s better.”

I still felt a little strange doing this in my room. Plus, with all the innuendos that Carlos seemed to be tossing out, I was getting very nervous. The last thing I wanted was to spring a boner in front of him while I was touching his body.

“I still don’t see what’s wrong with the floor here. It’s bigger and harder than my mattress,” I volunteered.

Carlos moved closer to me and I could smell the tequila on his breath. He looked down a moment, and then back up at me.

“I don’t WANT to be on the floor, mano.”

“I could spread out a sheet and . . .”

“I don’t WANT to lie on a sheet.”

He moved even closer and stood face to face in front of me.

“I want to lie on your bed.”

As I looked in those beautiful brown eyes of his, I felt like I was sinking. My heart was beating rapidly, and my throat was dry as hell.

Even though he was drunk and was smiling at times, I could feel the pain that radiated from his being and knew that Carlos needed someone to help him with his pain. I wanted to take him in my arms right there and kiss him so hard that he’d know, despite everything that had happened in his life, he was not alone.

This was not the 18-year-old boy I’d met so long ago. This was a strong, sexy, virile man with the body of a god and a heart that was hurting.

I reached up and gently patted his shoulder.

“Okay, Carlos. We’ll do it on my bed.”

I turned towards the hall to my bedroom, walked a few feet, and then stopped when I realized he wasn’t with me.

When I turned around, he was still standing there, a blank look on his face.

Maybe he was having second thoughts. Maybe he was so drunk he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Maybe he had changed his mind.

Whatever the case, I walked back over and reached out my hand to him. He kept looking at me for a few moments, then looked down at my outstretched hand. Slowly, he looked back up at me and, with that beautiful smile I adored, took my hand.

###

Quietly and carefully, we walked towards my bedroom. Carlos was swaying quite a bit and stumbled a few times as we walked. I reached out to steady him and kept my hand on his upper back, enjoying the feel of his firm muscles.

As we reached the door of my bedroom, Carlos paused and started falling backwards. I rushed behind him and put both hands on the sides of his back to prop him up. He body was heavy, and I had to struggle to keep him from falling. Eventually he started going forward again and my hands guided him through the door.

As he walked in the room, I moved him towards the bed. He sat down heavily on the edge of it.

“Now sit there a minute and don’t move,” I said. “You’re too heavy for me to pick up off the floor.”

Carlos gave a weak grin and I was hoping he wouldn’t fall off the bed. I was telling the truth when I said I wouldn’t be able to pick him up.

I turned off the bedroom light and turned down the brightness of the lamps on my end tables. This gave the room a soft glow to it, which I thought would be more relaxing.

I turned back around to Carlos and said, “Now you’re sure you still want me to do this?”

Carlos gave a feeble laugh, closed his eyes, and said, “Yeah. Sure. Go ahead.”

“Okay. I’ll start on your back. Move over and lie down on your stomach.”

Carlos didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he murmured, “Help me take my shirt off.”

I didn’t say anything at first. Did I really want to start things down that path, feeling like I did for Carlos?

Carlos just sat there. Quiet. Eyes closed. Waiting.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at me. “What’s the matter?”

Slowly, I said, “Nothing. I’m just not used to . . . taking your clothes off.”

Carlos closed his eyes again.

“Oh hell, Ian. It’s just my shirt. You’ve seen me in a lot less.”

He paused a moment. When I didn’t say anything, he said, “Quit being such a pendejo.”

When I still didn’t move, he sounded irritated.

“Fine. If it bothers you that much, I’ll do it myself,” and he started swaying and fumbling for the buttons.

I was ruining the moment and felt bad that I was adding to his hurt. I leaned down and grabbed his arms.

“Okay, okay . . . wait a minute. Let me do it.”

He stopped struggling, closed his eyes again, and let his arms fall back down on the bed.

As I unbuttoned the first button, I could feel his massive chest under my hands. I ignored the tingling I felt and moved down the row of buttons, undoing each one. As I got near his belt, I pulled up on the part that was tucked in his jeans and finished the last ones.

When the shirt was completely open, I started sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms. Which was easier said than done.

His biceps and triceps were so huge that the shirt sleeves were too narrow to just slide over them. I had to use both my hands to pull each sleeve down and over the muscles a little bit at a time. I finally managed to get them free and pulled the shirt off.

I’d seen Carlos shirtless before. But I had never been this close to him when he was.

Looking at his body this intimately was . . . breathtaking.

Broad shoulders, with knotted muscles, started at his neck and flowed down into his arms. His biceps and triceps, which had made taking off his shirt so difficult, bulged with shredded cords of muscle. His massive forearms were like two clustered ovals, which flexed when he closed his hands to steady himself on the bed.

And his chest. My god, it was a work of art!

Each of his pecs started from just below his neck and rose like twin plateaus, with a deep valley between the ridges of muscle. A dark brown, quarter size areola was in the center of each slab of muscle, capped by a pink nipple. I remembered seeing Beto suck on them the night he tried to fuck Carlos. They looked mouthwatering and I could certainly see why he did it.

As I continued looking at his nips, I suddenly trembled. All at once I felt an overwhelming urge to lean down and suck one into my mouth. It was hard, but I controlled my desire and gazed on down past his chest.

Defined ridges of abdominal muscle popped up from Carlos’s flat belly. The intersection of the ridges combined to give him a tight washboard stomach. I started to reach out and run my fingers over the ridges, but quickly let my arm fall to the side. In my mind though, an image of running my tongue over each ridge of muscle appeared. The tingling feeling returned, and I straightened up and shook my head to stop it.

“Okay, Carlos, lie down on your stomach and I’ll rub your back.”

When Carlos opened his eyes, they had a bleary look. Even though I didn’t know how much he had to drink earlier, it was obvious that he was pretty blitzed. He slowly looked up at me with unfocused eyes.

“What about my pants?”

God forbid!

Was he doing this on purpose? It was hard enough for me to take his shirt off and look at that fantastic chest of his. And now he wanted me to take his pants off?

There was no way I could do that without throwing a bone. And if Carlos saw that and thought I wanted his body, it would ruin our friendship. I had to put a stop to it. Now.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Carlos.”

He paused several moments and then said, “Why? You’re giving me a massage, aren’t you?”

“Well . . . yeah. But . . . but . . .” I stopped.

How could I explain why I couldn’t take his pants off without giving away my desire for him?

“And you took my shirt off. Aren’t my pants supposed to be off too?”

“Well . . .” I paused a second.

“Yeah.”

Carlos kept looking at me, but I was silent.

Finally, he said, “Look . . . I’d take them off myself, but I don’t really feel so hot right now. So . . . please . . . help me.”

I looked away from Carlos, silent, confused, and trying to figure out what to say.

“It’s alright, Ian. I know.”

Startled, I looked down at Carlos. He had sad smile on his face and his eyes were a little more focused and brighter.

“Huh? What do you mean? You know what?”

Carlos looked down and slowly licked his lips. Then he glanced back at me.

“I know why this is hard for you.”

I kept staring at Carlos.

“I know you want me.”

I winced and looked away.

“Mano . . . I’ve always known. You’re my brother. We know each other too well . . . have been through too much together . . . to think you can hide what you feel.”

Slowly, I turned away from Carlos, ashamed that he knew.

Knew how much I wanted him. How much I wanted his body.

But I knew he was straight. And we could never, ever be anything more than friends.

Brothers.

I felt my eyes tear up and knew he was about to end one of the most important relationships of my life.

“Ian . . .”

I didn’t answer.

“Ian . . . look at me.”

I still didn’t move.

“Ian . . . please . . . LOOK at me!”

Slowly, I turned around and tried to hold it together. Carlos was looking at me full in the face.

So handsome.

So loving.

“Ian, I don’t care. It’s fine that you want me.”

Then, with that smartass glint I knew so well, he said, “I mean, after all, look at me. Who wouldn’t want me?”

Then, the loving look from a moment ago returned.

“You’re my brother. My mano. You’ll always be in my life. Don’t you know that by now?”

I smiled and nodded slowly.

That was all I wanted to hear from him.

“Good. And if the time ever comes where that changes, trust me . . . I’ll tell you. Okay?”

I nodded again and he slowly, he closed his eyes.

After a moment, he said, “So . . . you gonna get my shit off or what?”

And with that, he carefully leaned back on his elbows, looked at me, and waited.

I wiped my eyes, grinned, and said, “Okay, dude. Fine.”

Kneeling, I pulled off Carlos’s boots, removed his socks and then reached out to unbuckle his belt. As I did so, my hands hovered above his massive cock bulge and I made sure I didn’t get near it.

But his jeans had a button-down fly and there was no way around it.

As I undid each button, I could feel the size and firmness of his cock below. By the time I got to the fourth button, I could see his white boxer briefs below. I thought his cock bulge was getting a little larger. But I figured that was just wishful thinking.

Unfortunately, the swelling of my cock wasn’t. It was a definite reality.

With his pants opened up, I grabbed the ends of his jeans and pulled.

Leaning on his elbows, Carlos tried to help me by lifting his hips up. But it didn’t do any good. The jeans stayed where they were. Carlos’s legs were so huge that the only way I was going to get his jeans off was the same way I got his sleeves down his massive arms.

I looked up at Carlos.

“When I tell you, lift up your hips again.” Carlos nodded.

I grabbed the sides of his jeans and said, “Okay, up!” I could feel Carlos raise his hips, practically pushing his cock into my face.

I pulled his jeans down fast and they came down easily to the top of his thighs. I was surprised but had forgotten that his pants were loose in the waist because they were a couple of inches bigger than his actual waist size.

Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that I had also grabbed his boxer briefs under my fingers as well.

When I pulled his jeans down, his briefs came down with them. Carlos’s cock popped into view and lay against his right leg, full and meaty.

It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened.

Shocked, I looked up at Carlos.

He started laughing and fell back on the bed. I tried to pull his briefs back up, but by then, Carlos had let his hips down.

“Carlos, SHIT! I’m sorry, man!”

Lying on his back, Carlos kept laughing. After a moment, I could hear his slurred voice.

“Goddamn, Ian. If you wanted to see my cock, you should have just asked.”

“Fuck head! I didn’t do it on purpose! Now shut up and help me.”

I rose and began trying to pull them back up, when I heard the laughter die down. As he continued to lay there, I heard his soft voice.

“Why? It’s no big deal. Just leave them off.”

“No way, man. Now lift up.”

Carlos’s head came up off the bed. It was swaying, and he kept blinking his eyes, as if trying to stay awake.

“Mano, just get on with it. I don’t care. I’m . . . getting a little . . . tired.”

His head fell back slowly. After a few moments, I could feel his body relax.

Fuck it, I thought. If he didn’t care, then neither did I.

I started pulling his jeans and briefs down, struggling to pull them over his huge legs. After a few moments of pulling, I hollered, “C’mon, Carlos, help me.”

He neither moved nor answered and I started getting pissed. With a final yank, I managed to get the jeans over his thighs. I grabbed the ends near his feet and pulled. After a minute, both his jeans and underwear were off his legs and on the floor.

I was sweating from the exertion and looked over at Carlos.

“Well, I hope you’re hap . . .”

Carlos was lying flat on the bed, eyes closed, not moving. I moved closer to the bed and looked carefully at him. I heard a light snore and realized he was asleep.

###

I couldn’t believe it.

Carlos . . . my friend . . . my brother . . . the hottest, sexiest man I’d ever known . . . was lying on my bed, sound asleep, and completely nude. Even though I felt guilty for doing it, I couldn’t help but look at his beautiful body.

My gaze traveled from his face to his massive chest, lingered on his tight, defined abs, and came to rest on his cock. Carlos’s soft cock was surrounded by a neatly trimmed bush of black hair. It was uncut, about 5 inches long and thick. The smooth shaft was a beautiful shade of brown, capped by a large head and covered by his foreskin. I could only imagine what it looked like hard. His balls were just as striking – smooth, hairless and larger than most that I had seen. I thought about the massive bulge I’d always seen whenever he wore his boxer briefs. Now understood where it came from. Without a doubt, Carlos was packing an impressive piece of meat.

As I continued to look at Carlos’s cock, the urge to reach out and suck it into my mouth was strong. But I knew I’d be no better than Beto if I tried to take advantage of him while he was asleep. Licking my lips, I suppressed the urge.

But it was hard.

Damn hard.

Carlos’s legs were hanging over the edge of the bed and they were even more remarkable. His leg muscles were massive, and his calves extended from just below his knees and spread out like teardrops. I could imagine lifting those legs up and spreading those hard ass cheeks. I’d lick and tongue his virgin hole until it opened up and let me in.

Hesitantly, I reached out and pushed his left knee.

“Carlos?”

No answer.

I pushed harder on his knee and raised my voice.

“Carlos?”

Other than a very slight movement of his head, there was no response.

Carlo’s entire body was a stunning display of muscle and beauty from head to toe. The more I looked at it, the more I wanted to just feel it. Hold it. Stroke it.

Slowly, I lay down on my side next to Carlos, looking at his face. I reached over and put my hand on his chest. There was still no reaction from the sleeping muscle hunk.

I looked over at his chest and gently began to rub his pecs. As my fingers passed over the pink nipples, I saw them get hard, like sexy little pebbles. A wave of desire started building in me and I began running my hand over more and more of his chest.

Carlos’s scent was powerful. I learned over further and started nuzzling him, planting gentle kisses on his shoulders and neck.

It was almost like a dream! The friend I’d loved for so long was next to me and I was feeling and kissing him. My hand started moving down his chest to his abs, while my lips were moving from his neck towards his mouth.

As the sexual heat increased, the longing to take Carlos was getting harder to ignore. I lifted my head and was about to kiss him full on the lips when his eyes opened.

It was as if time stood still. I don’t know how long Carlos looked at me with unsteady eyes. But as he looked at me, that smile I knew so well spread slowly across his face. I looked at him with unconcealed lust and gently brought my lips down on his.

I started kissing him softly and practically melted when I felt him start to kiss back. Our kisses became harder and more urgent. Suddenly, he opened his lips and the tip of his tongue was pushing against mine, trying to get inside. I sucked in his tongue, kissing him with more passion than I’d ever kissed another man.

I couldn’t get enough of Carlos. I rolled over on top of him and he slowly brought his arms around me. I was kissing his cheeks, his nose, his mouth. Anything that was a part of his face. Our first gentle kisses had turned into a match of kissing domination, with each trying to kiss the other harder . . . deeper . . . stronger.

The waves of desire had completely washed over me. Not only was my heart racing and my breathing heavy, my cock was at full mast. Even more amazing was that I could feel Carlos’s hard cock beneath me.

I continued kissing Carlos and slowly moved down to his chest. As my lips reached his pecs, I licked the hard muscle. Carlos groaned and writhed until my mouth reached his nipple. It was still rock hard, and I sucked it in my mouth. Gasping, Carlos came up off the bed. I couldn’t get enough of his hot nipple in my mouth and kept sucking and biting it.

After a few moments, I ran my tongue down the edge of his pec, licking the sweat in the deep cleft between, and continued up the edge of his other pec. Quickly, I put his other nipple in my mouth and started sucking it with a vengeance. Carlos was groaning in pleasure and started running his fingers through my hair, trying to hold my head in place.

But I was having none of that. Within moments, my tongue and mouth were licking and sucking all over his chest. I thrust his arms away from my head and continued my assault.

“Ian . . . Ian . . .”

Carlos’s weak voice pierced through my haze of lust. But I was so delirious with hunger for the body I’d wanted for so long, I ignored it.

I started moving back up to kiss him again and my hard cock rubbed over his. Carlos was still hard underneath me and I wondered how big his massive meat had become.

I still had my clothes on but was about to remedy that quickly. I rose up slightly, pulled off my shirt, and almost went wild when I felt his strong pecs and abs rub against me. Reaching under me, I unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, and started pushing them down, along with my bikini briefs.

Carlos must have felt what I was doing. I could hear his voice, woozy from his alcoholic fog.

“Ian . . . wait . . . let’s uhhh . . .”

He was still mumbling when I finished pushing my shorts and briefs down my legs and kicked them off. Carlos and I were now both totally nude.

My throat tightened, and I was light headed. I couldn’t believe how intense it felt with my bare body touching Carlos. But the most incredible feeling was the caress of my hard meat against Carlos’s thick, meaty cock. The feeling was so passionate, I started moving my hips, rubbing our cocks together harder and harder. After a few moments, I could hear Carlos’s whispering.

“Fuuuuck . . .”

I put my arms around him, grinding harder against his cock. I could feel his body respond, pushing against me and surrendering to our sexual heat.

“Fuuuuck . . . godddddaaaamn . . .”

As Carlos kept writhing and softly moaning, I began to fear that if we continued what we were doing, it would lead us down a path that we had never traveled in our friendship. And the consequences could be devastating for both of us.

But the feel of Carlos beneath me . . . his moans of ecstasy as he surrendered more and more . . . the thought of finally having the body I’d wanted for years . . . all these conspired to override my rationality. I started slowly moving down his body, kissing, sucking, and licking every inch, and heard him groan quietly.

“Oh fuck . . . shit . . .”

As he groaned, his squirming got harder, more intense, more urgent.

I kept sliding down his body, pushing his legs apart as I went between them. My mouth traveled over his tight abs and his cock kept rubbing against my cheek. My mouth was so hungry to get that slab of meat inside, I finally pulled up and looked at it.

His swollen meat was at least seven inches and thick. The foreskin had pulled back over a large pink, mushroomed head, which glistened. I could feel my mouth water and started to reach out and grab it. But as I reached out, I hesitated, knowing that once I touched Carlos’s cock, we would be past the point of no return.

I looked up at Carlos’s face. His eyes were closed, and he was quietly moaning. I paused a minute, then spoke for the first time since we had started kissing.

“Carlos . . . you okay?”

Silence. Carlos just lay there, moaning softly, and barely moving. I knew he was still boozed up and didn’t know if he knew what was going on. I started to speak again, when I saw the tip of his tongue come out and moisten his lips.

I watched carefully.

And the sign I wanted from him so desperately slowly appeared.

He smiled.

It was lopsided, and you could tell he was still drunk. But it was a smile nevertheless.

I smiled back . . . and closed my hand around Carlos’s thick cock.

Carlos’s body jumped, and he gasped.

I stuck my tongue out and gently licked the moist, pink head. Another strong tremor erupted from Carlos’s body and I started licking more and more of his sensitive cock head. The taste of his precum was an aphrodisiac, and my lips and tongue started wetting down the sides of his long shaft.

Carlos’s entire body was wiggling, and it was hard to keep my lips on it. After a few minutes of stroking and licking, I finally took the head in my mouth and started sucking the cock I had only dreamed about.

As my mouth went down Carlos’s dick, an erratic loud groan erupted, and his head came up off the bed.

I wrapped my lips tighter on the brown hunk of meat and kept sucking. Carlos started beating his arms against the bed as my head went up and down his cock. After a few minutes, the flailing started to die down and I felt Carlos’s hips start to move.

It was hard for me to believe, but Carlos was trying to fuck my mouth. He was still wasted, and the movement was erratic, but he was trying. I felt him grab my head, like he did before, but this time it was gentler, as if only wanting me to stay in place so he could steady himself.

Carlos continued to fuck my mouth, but his drunken movements were getting weaker. But, drunk or not, there was no way I was going to let his cock go without cumming and splashing his jizz down my throat.

I tightened my lips and slid my mouth faster up and down his cock. As I deep throated his meat, I reached up across his tight abs and found his nipples. They were still hard little points of fire.

I started pinching and twisting his nipples and squeezing his pecs. Wasted though he was, Carlos started squirming and moaning again. The harder I sucked, the more I twisted those sensitive little bullets. I could hear his breathing get heavier and felt his cock get harder. I knew he was only moments away from blasting a load.

Carlos tried to fuck my mouth again but couldn’t steady his hips. I reached underneath him, grabbed the edges of his ass, and started pushing him harder into my mouth. He started a low whine and I could feel the huge mushroom head get bigger. I pulled up slightly, so his cock wasn’t so deep in my throat when shot his load.

Several bursts of cum hit my throat and I felt a flow of warm cream. It filled my mouth rapidly and I swallowed quickly. My hands were still on the edges of Carlos’s ass and it flexed five, six, seven times as he got his nut. There was so much jizz, I could feel some of it ooze out of my lips and drip down the sides of his cock.

I kept Carlos’s cock in my mouth and kept swallowing his cum as his climax slowly subsided. His body was spent, and I could feel him relax as it came down off its high. I kept sucking, trying to get as much of his sweet cream as I could. Finally, when I could get no more, I let it go from my mouth with an audible pop.

My body was slick with sweat and I slowly looked up from between Carlos’s legs. The view was surreal. Carlos’s cock was hanging down over his balls, mere inches from my face. I rose a little and could see that his body was drenched in sweat. There were numerous slight red abrasions all over his chest and abs, where my kissing and sucking had been intense. Carlos’s head was laying back on the bed and there was no movement from his body. I smiled slightly and could only imagine what was going through his tequila-laced brain about his first blow job from a man.

With his meaty cock hanging down in front of me, I started looking at his lower body more carefully. His legs were smooth and had just a smattering of hair below his knees. I took a deep breath and could smell the strong scent of sex in the room.

My lust started growing again and I reached out my tongue and licked the inside of his right leg. My tongue just glided on the muscle. Soon, I was licking longer and harder up the inside of his leg, coming closer and closer to his cock and balls.

Carlos didn’t move, and I continued to lick and kiss both his inner thighs. I was hard, and my tongue started snaking its way toward Carlos’s cock again. As I licked the velvety tip of his head, I reached out and lifted it up.

Despite my efforts, Carlos’s cock wouldn’t get hard again. I licked the sides and sucked on his balls, but to no avail. Frustrated, I pulled his body closer to the edge of the bed and pushed his legs farther apart, so I could lift his nut sack and lick below it.

Carlos still didn’t move. But I could smell his scent of sweat and sweet musk. It turned me on even more.

As I lifted his sack, I started to stick out my tongue . . . when I stopped dead in my tracks.

Underneath Carlos’s nuts was the smooth strip of skin that led to his ass crack. It’s called the perineum, but I often refer to it as the “taint” . . . because it “taint” his balls and it “taint” his ass!

It is an extremely erotic area. But, even more important, I knew that if I kept following along that taint, I would find Carlos’s asshole hidden between those hard cheeks of muscle.

His tight asshole. His virgin, tight asshole. That had never been fucked before.

I began to breathe faster, and my heart quickened.

I ducked down under Carlos’s legs and moved them until they were on my shoulders. I tried raising up. But his legs were so heavy, I couldn’t lift them. I put my hands under his feet and tried raising up again.

Slowly . . . gradually . . . those heavy hunks of muscle began to rise.

As they rose, I thought Carlos would stir. But not a sound or movement came from him. Finally, I managed to get them up and push them back towards his chest. I looked down and swallowed heavily at the sight that greeted me.

I had dreamed about Carlos’s sexy, muscular ass for years. And the sight of it now was even better than I had imagined.

It was the same shade of brown as the rest of his body, completely smooth, and not a hair in sight. His ass was so hard and muscled, that he had a deep ass crack that was clenched tight. I ran my finger down the crack and it barely parted. Obviously, it was not going to give up Carlos’s asshole so easily!

I moved my hands down and began to pull apart those firm muscle cheeks. My lust was getting out of control as I manhandled those mounds of muscle and I pulled harder to get to the Promised Land. I kept squeezing my fingers deeper in his crack, pulling his cheeks apart, when suddenly, my prize appeared.

Finally looking at Carlos’s tight little asshole made me light headed.

Like the rest of him, there wasn’t a hair in sight. It was barely more than a little slit and I knew that no finger, and especially no cock, had ever been up inside it. As my finger touched it, the brown pucker started winking, opening and closing.

I could resist no longer.

I leaned over, flicked out my tongue, and tentatively lapped at the winking hole. Each time I tongued the hole, it winked more urgently, as if wanting more and more attention. I started rimming Carlos’s entire ass crack and I could feel him stir for the first time since he’d shot his load.

I licked and tongued his ass harder, trying to get the tip inside his virgin hole. I could feel it start to open just a little bit and I tongued more urgently, pushing against his protective gate. Finally, the muscle gave ground a little and my tongue started going in. Deeper. And deeper.

Carlos started groaning again as his previously untouched fuck hole opened and let my tongue in. I was getting more and more of it inside that moist, velvety tunnel and started rimming the hell out of Carlos’s ass.

After a few minutes of heavy rimming, his ass opened a little more and I started touching the winking flesh again with the tip of my finger. Carlos’s hole was so wet, I was able to insert my finger slightly. The farther my tongue went in and the more my finger advanced, Carlos’s groans got louder and his squirming harder.

The site of this nude, masculine muscle hunk groaning and writhing as I tongued and fingered his ass sent me over the edge.

No matter how much I tried to resist the thoughts . . . resist the desire . . . I couldn’t resist it any longer.

I wanted to fuck Carlos.

No. I HAD to fuck Carlos.

In my mind, I knew it wasn’t right.

I knew he had come to me months ago as his friend and brother.

I knew he was in pain from the separation from his family.

I knew he was drunk and wasn’t thinking clearly.

Above all, I knew he was straight. And that meant that sex with another man was not something that he was interested in.

But I also knew that I had lusted after Carlos for more years that I could remember.

I had dreamed about his perfect body, his hot muscle ass, and that tight, fiery hole.

And the dreams had now become reality.

Here he was in front of me, on my bed, lying on his back with his legs up, and my finger fucking his flawless ass. My hormones shut down my rational side and I gave in to my long denied sexual desire.

I reached over, opened the drawer of my night stand, and pulled out a bottle of lube. Even though Carlos’s ass was still wet from my rimming, I wanted it nice and slick for my cock.

I poured the lube all over my hand and started wiping it inside his ass crack and fingering it inside his hole. Despite having had my tongue and finger in it, Carlos’s ass was still tightly shut.

As the lube penetrated, my finger slid inside. But it had to fight for every centimeter. I started fingering him again and a smile crept up my face as I heard his groans start.

“Just wait, Carlos,” I thought quietly. “You ain’t felt nothing yet!”

I continued fingering that virgin ass when suddenly, I heard him say in an unsteady voice, “Wha . . . what . . . what are you . . . doing?”

I was silent as I kept trying to finger him. His groaning started again, and I inserted a second finger into his ass. Goddamn, that motherfucker was TIGHT! I poured more lube on my fingers and tried to widen his hole even more. Carlos started gasping.

“Fuuuck . . . shit . . . oh shiiiiiit . . .”

I continued pouring more lube on my fingers and pushing more and more of it inside his ass.

Carlos kept gasping and gave off short yelps from time to time. His tight hole was starting to loosen up more and more, and my fingers twisted around easier.

Soon, both of my fingers were inside his hot hole up to the first knuckle. And even though Carlos was still groaning, his yelps had stopped. I grinned as I felt his hole relax a little more. I got my fingers in deeper.

Even though his hole was still tight, my fingers were sliding in and out easier. After a few more moments of fingering his ass, I pulled my fingers out, reached down, and wrapped my hand around my cock. I wanted it completely slick with lube so that it eased my entry into Carlos’s ass.

Within seconds, my hand was gliding easily along my hard shaft.

I knew the time had come to do what I had wanted for so long.

To fuck Carlos Rivera’s hot . . . tight . . . straight . . . muscle ass.

I stood over Carlos, spread his legs and pushed them back farther to open his ass. He had stopped groaning but was still moving slightly, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. Grabbing my cock, I slid my hand over it one more time and placed the head against the slick opening of Carlos’s asshole.

My heart was beating wildly in my chest and I was short of breath. I looked at my cock. It was throbbing and just waiting to begin its long-awaited journey into Carlos’s ass.

Slowly . . . firmly . . . I pushed against his hole.

Even with all my rimming, fingering, and lubing, his ass muscle was still tight and wouldn’t let me in. As I pressed harder, Carlos started groaning and the muscle began to give. The hole opened slightly, and I pressed forward.

Little by little, I watched my cock slowly disappear into Carlos’s ass. His groaning got louder.

After a few moments of resistance, the muscle finally gave up and I watched as inch after inch quickly disappeared inside.

Within seconds, my entire 6-inch cock was buried to the hilt in Carlos’s no longer virgin ass.

The feeling was unbelievable!

In my wildest fantasies, I never thought being inside Carlos’s ass would feel like this. My cock was engulfed in a tight, hot, wet fold of muscle. It was almost as if I had shoved my cock inside a jar of warm honey.

I closed my eyes to savor the feeling and could hear a groan from deep within Carlos’s throat. I opened my eyes and saw his tense face . . . his arms pushing feebly against the bed.

I stood still 15 seconds . . .

30 seconds . . .

A minute . . .

Savoring the pulsating warmth of Carlos’s tight ass.

As his ass adjusted to my cock inside it, Carlos’s face and arms began to relax.

Gently, I pulled my cock back, leaving just the head inside his still snug hole. I poured more lube on it and carefully pushed it back in. His body tensed up as my cock filled his ass and relaxed again as I pulled it back. I continued to slowly slide my cock in and out of his tight hole, getting faster as Carlos’s ass started to relax and accept its first hard fuck.

It was hard for me to believe.

I was finally doing it. I was actually fucking him.

I was FUCKING Carlos!

And the feel of his fiery hole around my cock was just incredible.

The longer I fucked his ass, the more it sucked my cock back in, caressing it, as if not wanting it to leave. I started humping faster and faster and soon, I was fucking Carlos hard. Like I’d always wanted.

At first, I could hear him moan every time I slammed into his sweet little fuck hole. But once that tight ass opened up and let me in, the moans became more like little whimpers.

I hated to admit it, but Beto was right.

Carlos’s ass was perfect. Ab-so-lute-ly perfect.

And it was made to be fucked.

As I continued banging those perfects mounds of muscle, I looked at Carlos.

His eyes were closed again, and he was breathing faster. I leaned down and started kissing him. Softly at first, and then more passionately. He didn’t respond.

But, after a few moments of kissing him, I felt the tiniest movement in his lips. I slowed my fucking down and dicked his ass with long, loving strokes. I could feel my cock rubbing his prostate, and heard his whimpers return. I kept drilling his love nut and pushed my tongue between his lips. He whimpered again, and I felt the tip of his tongue touched mine.

A wave of love surged through me and I kissed him harder. It was as if the earlier magic had returned. I was fucking him hard, and he was kissing back, with a feeling and hunger that was indescribable.

I reached under his arms and grabbed him in a hug, as we fucked and kissed. And fucked and kissed. And fucked and kissed.

I felt Carlos’s thick cock beneath me and was surprised to find it was hard again.

But what really surprised me was when I suddenly felt Carlos spread his legs wider, letting my cock get deeper in his hot muscle ass.

My nuts were churning, and I knew that I was about to shoot my load.

We were both on such a high of hugging, kissing, and fucking, that nothing else mattered.

I heard a high-pitched groan from Carlos and I knew he was about to cum. As I felt his body tense up, I broke our hug and started fucking him faster. Carlos’s groan turned into a scream and suddenly, he let loose.

Blast after blast of cum flew out of his fat cock and landed everywhere. His chest, his face, even past his head on the bed. I don’t know how many times he shot, because my nuts were about to unload, too.

I fucked Carlos faster . . . and harder . . . and faster . . . and harder.

Faster. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster . . .

As I threw a final fuck into his ass, my jizz suddenly flew out the end of my cock. It shot load . . . after load . . . after load . . . into the hot, deep recesses of Carlos’s ass.

It was so intense, I felt like I was shooting a continuous stream of cum. It kept going . . . and going . . . and going . . .

As it slowed, an intense feeling of weariness came over me. I slumped down on top of Carlos, breathing heavily.

His own chest was covered in cum and he lay there, taking deep breaths as well.

After several minutes, our breathing started returning to normal. I rolled off and lay on my back next to him. He was barely moving, and it was obvious that we were both exhausted.

After what seemed like hours, I leaned over and looked at Carlos. His eyes were closed but he must have felt me move. His eyes began to flicker open and it took him a few moments to focus. Finally, he turned and looked me in the eye, his face impassive.

As I looked at him, the enormity of what we had just done hit me.

###

I didn’t know what to say.

Carlos continued to look at me and I had no idea what I could say. Or even if I should say anything.

All I knew at that moment, was that Carlos had come home drunk. And we ended up having one of the hottest fucks I’d ever experienced.

But as I lay there on my side, the guilt feelings started creeping in to my consciousness.

How could I have done it? How could I have taken my closest friend in the world, helped him in his time of need, protected him against a friend who wanted to fuck him, and then end up fucking him myself?

So many questions . . . and no answers. Although, if I was being brutally honest with myself, I would have admitted the truth.

The truth was . . . I did it because I wanted to. I had wanted to for years. And I had finally given in to my deepest, darkest longings and fucked the straightest, the hottest, and the tightest ass I had desired for so long.

All these thoughts swirled through my head as I looked at Carlos.

But the big question was . . . what was HE thinking about?

Carlos finally looked away, stared at the ceiling, and licked his lips. Without the inhibiting stare from his beautiful brown eyes, it made it easier for me to speak.

“Carlos . . .”

No answer.

“Carlos . . .”

Silence.

“Carlos . . . I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry.”

Carlos continued to stare at the ceiling and lick his lips. I was about to get up when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head turn and look at me.

“Why?” he murmured in a quiet voice.

“What do you mean why?” I answered in a shocked voice. “It’s obvious”.

“What’s obvious?”

I didn’t answer and wondered if his brain was still messed up from his drinking.

I lay there with an incredulous look on my face. Carlos continued to stare at me and the silence became uncomfortable. I started to speak, when just a hint of a smile appeared on Carlos’s face and he spoke again.

“What’s obvious?”

“What’s obvious?” I repeated. “Carlos, you DO know what just happened, don’t you?”

Carlos gave a short little laugh and said, “Yeah. Do you?”

I was floored.

And getting a little angry at the same time.

I raised my voice and said, “DO I?!! Carlos, we just had SEX! You and me!”

As he continued looking at me, the smile on his face got a little wider.

“You know, you the straight guy and me the gay guy? We just had SEX!”

Still smiling, Carlos turned towards me, looked down and said, “Yeah, Ian. I know. I mean . . . I’m still sorta fucked up from all the tequila. But . . .” he paused a minute. “Yeah, it happened.”

“And you’re not pissed?”

Carlos looked back at me and tried to shrug his shoulders.

“Welllll . . . I’m not really sure what I feel.” He paused again.

“It’s hard for me to say.”

He was silent for a moment, and then said, “But you’re acting like something’s wrong and it’s your fault or something.”

I looked at him and said, “Well yeah, it was my fault. I couldn’t control myself. I mean, you’re straight, Carlos. It’s not like I’m a girl who jumped your buns.”

I hung my head. Carlos’s voice came back stronger.

“Ian, I already told you. I know you wanted me. I could tell you wanted to have sex. I’ve known that for years.”

He grinned and said, “It’s not like I never noticed the way you look at me. I mean . . .” he hesitated, “. . . you know, it is what it is. So, there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of.”

“But I took advantage of you! You were passed out and I started sucking your cock and then fucked you! I am ashamed of that!” I cried. “And I’m sorry. So, so, so sorry that I did that!”

Carlos shrugged and said, “Okay yeah, I see your point. But . . .” he stopped.

“But what?”

Carlos hesitated. “Did you . . . did you . . . ever think that maybe . . . I sorta wanted it too?”

I looked at him, completely dumbfounded. He rushed on.

“Yeah. That’s right. I wanted it, too.” He paused and then grinned.

“Welll . . . I could have done without the ass fucking! That shit was weird!”

Then, with a serious look, he said, “Look Ian, you’re my best friend. You’ve been there for me for so long and I love you like a brother. I mean, really love you, like a brother.”

Carlos stopped, licked his lips again, and in a louder voice said, “I’ve been through hell with Rosa. I miss my kids. GOD how I miss my kids! My life has turned upside down. It’s just been hell! I was so down tonight, and I just want all this shit to end.”

He stopped again, took a deep breath, and in a gentler voice said, “But even with all this shit, I knew I could come here and be at peace. I knew that there was someone here who really loved me. Not just loved me . . . but wanted me. And I needed that, Ian. I NEEDED that!”

That gorgeous smile I fell in love with so many years ago appeared.

“So, I came home because I needed to feel that love. For someone to touch me. And hold me. And let me know my life is not a complete, total FUCK UP!”

His smile got a little broader.

“So yeah, I let you strip me. I was pretty drunk, but I wanted you to see my body. When you started touching and kissing me, I felt . . . I don’t know . . . alive! And loved.”

He turned over and lay on his back again. I looked at him, trying to absorb everything he had said.

“So yeah,” he continued, “I wanted it to happen. I was hoping it would.”

He paused a moment and then chuckled. “I have to admit, I was surprised when you started sucking me. But it felt good. I’ve just never had a guy suck my cock before. At least . . . none that I know of!” he laughed.

“And honestly? I liked getting my ass licked. I think I could get off on that, too!”

Carlos turned his head and looked at me somberly.

“But the fucking . . .” He paused.

“The fucking . . . I don’t know about that, mano. I mean, that motherfucker wasn’t easy!”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“But . . . I have to admit, it did feel hot though at the end. I don’t know what you did or what you were poking inside me that felt so good. But I’ve never shot like that before! It was intense!”

He paused again and shrugged his shoulders.

“So, who knows? Maybe if I get drunk enough, I might try it again sometime.” His smile widened.

“But not right now.”

I laughed, and Carlos reached over and gave me a hug.

“You’re still my mano, Ian. You always will be.”

Grinning, he continued, “I guess maybe we both got what we needed tonight. I needed you . . . and you needed me.”

“But what we both need right now is a shower!”

I laughed, and said, “Given how much you were wasted, you need a COLD shower!”

I reached over and caressed his cheek.

“You sure you’re okay? You’re feeling up to it? Or do you just want to go to sleep?”

Carlos smiled and grabbed my hand on his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m still buzzing. But I’m okay. I just need a shower before I go to sleep.”

I smiled. “You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll go after you.”

“Why?” Carlos asked, with a sly smile. “We can’t take one together? Or is my cock so big there’s not enough room for you?”

I laughed, and said, “Fuck you, Carlos!”

Carlos looked at me with that glint in his eye.

“I believe you just did!”

And started laughing his ass off, as he headed for the bathroom.

---

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

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JESSIE & WILLIAM

By Mighty Mouth

In a way this a continuation of my story published on GayDemon on 26 March, 2016, entitled, “the Son in the Morning and the Father at Noon.”

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          My name is Chris. I am a semi-literate farm hand who loves to wander, and I only stay in one place for a few months or a year, and then become restless. So I move on. I am masculine, and no one suspects I am gay until I tell them. I am 35 years old. I am naturally muscular, thanks to working on farms my entire life. I never went near a gym. I had said my good-byes to my hosts Ted and his son Jeff, both of whom I was servicing daily, and was hitchhiking with my small suitcase back to my home area, some 70 miles distant.  

I hadn’t waited more than a half-hour on the highway when a pickup truck stopped. The guy asked me how far I was going, and I told him Pleasantville. He said he could take me a few miles at least. Since he was sexy, I decided to get in, hoping he would accept a blow job before reaching his destination. Bottom line: I love to suck dick and get sucked too. I’m not a backdoor guy—don’t fuck or get fucked.

          He said his name was Jessie and that he owned a small farm where he raised chickens and hogs. He asked what kind of work I do, and I explained that I was a farm hand. This sparked his interest. I told him that I was Chris.

          “My farm hand just quit on me, and it happens that I am looking for a new one. Might you be interested?” he asked.

          I replied, “Well maybe. It depends on what I will need to do.”

          “Why don’t you come with me to my farm, and I can explain it to you,” he offered.

          “Sounds OK to me,” I responded. Meanwhile I was ogling this handsome and rugged hunk. He seemed to have a gentle edge.

          We soon arrived at a modest farm house, with a barn, a hog pen and their shelter, and another area for the chickens with their chicken coop. When we got out of the truck I saw that he was rugged, muscular, and about 6 feet tall. I guessed that he was about 33 years old.  My tongue started to get hard and my throat began to tingle, thinking what a pleasure it would be to swallow his cock.

          He showed me into his house, told me to have a seat, and offered me a beer. I told him that I was more of a whiskey and wine drinker, so he said that he had Scotch. I said OK, and he brought me a stiff one.

          Jessie explained that his wife, Mary, didn’t like country life, and that they argued a lot. She left him and was now living with another guy, and that he lived alone. This really turned me on. “What does he do for sex?” I wondered.

          “Let me show you around. I have two bedrooms, so you would have your own,” he assured me. Then we went to visit the hogs and pigs, and he explained that my job would be to feed them all, and watch over them. He had a milk cow, and of course, didn’t lack for eggs. He also had a small garden, where he grew vegetables, and an apple tree.

          “So how much will you pay?” I asked.

          “Well, I can’t offer you much. You will have free room and board. I can pay $200 per week,” he responded.

          “Not an awful lot. But you seem like a nice guy and the work doesn’t seem too difficult. I don’t spend very much money, so I guess I could live with that.  Do you need a reference? By the way, I’m a good cook, and could keep the house clean too. I’ll be just like a wife,” I said jokingly. Little did he know how I could keep him satisfied.

          He laughed, “I can see that you are not a woman, but none of us is perfect,” he rejoined. “I don’t need a reference. I’m a good judge of people. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll just get your ass out of here.”

            “So is it a deal?”

          “Yes, it’s a deal,” I answered.

          “You can take your suitcase to your room. It’s almost lunch time so I guess we should eat,” he mentioned.

          “Hey I can rustle up some grub if you want,” I offered.

          He replied, “Sounds great. Fix whatever you find convenient in the kitchen. I’m not picky about what I eat. While you are preparing lunch I’m gonna’ take a shower.”

          I found plenty of eggs and ham in the kitchen, no surprise, and some cheese. So I decided to make an omelet of eggs, ham, and cheese, and fry up some potatoes, which he most likely grew himself. He didn’t have any interesting spices, which I love to use when I cook. There was no wine, which I love, and I knew I’d have to drink beer. I decided to remedy that situation as soon as I got some money.

          He soon came into the kitchen, just wearing boxer shorts. “Oh God what a body,” I thought, “and what a big bulge he is showing. I want that!”

          He said, “Excuse my appearance. I don’t wear much clothes inside the house.”

          “That’s no problem, I feel the same way,” I told him.

          “Lunch is ready,” I said.

          We sat down at the kitchen table and began our lunch. He asked, “Do you have a girl friend?”

          I answered, “No, I don’t. With my job, I don’t stay long enough in the same place for this,” I lied.

“Well, I don’t have a girl friend either. I’m kinda sour on women right now, but sure do miss having sex. I’m always horny,” he admitted.

So I invented a fiction. “Back at the last farm where I worked, there was another farmhand who would suck everybody off, the owner, his son, and me.”

“Hey, that’s neat. I wouldn’t mind if I had a farm hand like that,” he exclaimed.

I knew at that that moment I had him. He was willing. I was thrilled. I said, “Well, you have one here now. I love to suck cock. If you are offended, I can leave now.”

“Hell no. No problem. But you threw me a shocker. I never would have guessed that you are a cocksucker. I haven’t had many blow jobs, but I’m sure I’d like it if you want to do it.”

My response was, “I’d love to suck on your dick. I’ll bet it’s big.”

“Yes, I think so.  How about now,” he almost begged.

“No, I can’t suck a dick on a full stomach, but when you go to bed, I’ll tuck you in with a great tongue massage on your cock.”

“Sounds great. I can hardly wait.”

We went out to do chores, and the afternoon passed very quickly. When we returned, it was almost dinner time. I told him, “It’s better we do it before dinner.”

“OK, now?”

“Yeah, let’s go to your bedroom, you take off all of your clothes, stretch out on the bed with your legs hanging over the bottom of the bed,  and I’ll do my thing, or should I say do your thing?”

He almost ran into his bedroom and stripped, with me close behind. I was presented with a great specimen of masculinity, and what a beautiful big dick. By the time he hit the bed he was half hard. He didn’t need to watch porno before sex. I knelt on the floor and quickly swallowed his prick, which became as hard as a brick after just a few seconds of my mouth action. Since I have no teeth because I had neglected them, the result is a more fabulous experience.

“Jesus Christ! This is out of this world. Let’s do this every day,”

“Well, my mouth is open for your business whenever you want it,” I responded. With my expertise, he came pretty fast. And what a load! I could feel it pouring down my throat.

I licked him clean, and he surprised me by saying, “I don’t think I’ll even put on shorts. I’ll just stay naked.”

“Love it,” I replied. “Gives me a chance to admire your entire body.”

I found some pork chops in his kitchen freezer, and he had rice and beans in the cupboard. I made a salad of fresh lettuce and a nice ripe tomato.    

Over dinner, he said, “Let’s go into town tomorrow and you can buy whatever you need to cook.”

“Sounds great. I’ll buy some cigars and  brandy too. I like to smoke a cigar and have a brandy after lunch,” I added. I had money stashed away in my suitcase from my last gig.

“The treat’s on me,” he offered. “You’re doing far more for me than I expected.”

          It was early to bed, as usual on a farm. The next morning I did all of my usual chores, then into the house to prepare breakfast. As soon as we finished eating, we were off to town. I bought some spices to liven up the food, some other groceries, and of course, I bought my passions—cigars, wine and brandy.

On the way back home, Jessie said, “After lunch we have a nasty job to do. We need to put rings in the piglets’ noses so that they won’t root so much.”

“I’m an expert at it,” I assured him. “I’ve been doing it all of my life. I catch the piglets by their hind legs, hold them down, and you squeeze the rings into their noses.”

I quickly fixed some baloney sandwiches, and my special potato salad. After lunch Jessie suggested we wear minimum clothes to the pig pen for our task. So we both wore only shorts and sneakers. It took us almost an hour to do the job, because there were 10 piglets to take care of.

Needless to say, we were both as muddy as hell when we finished.  I said, “I have an idea. You have a big stall shower, and we could shower together. I’ll give you a bath. I love to do it.”

“Hell, I never had anyone give me a bath before. Sounds like fun,” Jessie remarked enthusiastically.

          I threw our shorts and sneakers into the washer, and we headed for the bathroom. I told Jessie to turn his back to me, and I would wash that first. Then he turned around so I could wash him in front. While I was bathing him, I began to fondle his dick, which naturally began to harden. I knelt down to wash his legs and dick, rinsed them, then I swallowed his tool. Nice hot water was beating down on us. I jerked off while sucking him and we both came at almost the same time. Fun!

“Oh, Christ. This is a new experience for me. I love it!” he enthused.

“Well, we can do it as often as you want,” I replied.

We both settled down in the living room, stark naked. I had my usual brandy and cigar.  Jessie got a beer and watched some TV.

          “By the way,” Jessie commented. “I have to go back into town tomorrow. There is something I forgot to do today,” without explaining what he needed to do.

Jessie left right after breakfast the next morning. I decided to sit in the swing on the front porch and just relax. Not long after he left, a guy walked up the driveway. He looked all the world like he could be Jessie’s brother.

When he got to the house, he asked “Is Jessie around?

“No, he had to go into town,” I replied.

He shook my hand. “I’m William. I live over on the next farm. Mind if I sit here for a while?” as he sat down on the beat-up sofa on the porch.

“Be my guest. I’m Chris.”

“You got a beer?” he asked brusquely

“Sure, I’ll get you one,” I told him. On the way to the kitchen, my heart was racing. He was wearing a wife beater t-shirt and shorts, both so tight-fitting that his muscles were practically bursting out of them. And what a huge bulge in his crotch!

When I returned, he said, “Sometimes I just have to get out of the house, my wife gets on my nerves. She’s irritable because she’s pregnant. And she doesn’t want sex. It frustrates me. I’m so horny.” He began fondling his basket as he said this, with me practically fainting.

Then he shocked the shit out of me by remarking, “Hey, Jessie told me that you are a cocksucker and give fantastic blow jobs.”

“He told you that?” I asked, astonished.

“Yeah, do want to give me one now? I’ve got a big cock.”

“What nerve,” I thought. I replied, “Well, I don’t know about that. It doesn’t seem right.”

He got up from the sofa and came over to my swing, pulled out his cock in front of me, and said, “Ain’t it a beaut? Touch it.” It was almost hard.

I was torn. Obviously I wanted to wrap my lips around that treasure, but felt that I would be betraying Jessie.  But my wild instincts took over, and I began to stroke his tool.

“Let’s go into the house,” he commanded. We went inside and closed the door. He immediately dropped his shorts and I got on my knees.

“Suck it, cocksucker.” As soon as I went down on him, he grabbed my head and began forcing it up and down on his prick. I have to admit that I like it rough sometimes. But I was worried that Jessie would come back and catch me in the act.

He soon pulled his dick out of my mouth. “I gotta stop for a bit. You’re so damned good that you will make me shoot my load fast, and I want this to last.” That made me happy too.

And last he did. I can usually make a guy come within 4 or 5 minutes, but he made it last 10 minutes. And when he shot, what a load!

“I’m gonna want to do this often,” he said. Once he got his way, he left hurriedly, without even a thank you.

I told him that I didn’t see how we could do it again. “We’ll see,” he bragged.

Soon Jessie returned. I told him, “William stopped by to see you, and said that you told him I was a cocksucker. I was very surprised.”

Jessie got a sheepish grin, and asked, “Well did you like it?”

 Then I realized that they had set the whole thing up. What connivery! “What is Jessie’s motivation in this,” I wondered.

The next day Jessie phoned William to invite him over for a beer in the afternoon. Jessie had been naked, but put on his shorts for William’s arrival. We were both with just our shorts on. William arrived with the same outfit as the day before. “Doesn’t his wife wash his clothes?” I wondered. I got them both a beer, and poured myself a brandy.

Jessie asked William, “So how was it yesterday? I know you got your cock sucked.”

“Man, your cocksucker is a real professional. It was great. I’m ready for more.”                  

Jessie took off his shorts and said to William, “I’m gonna let you watch him suck my dick,” motioning to me to kneel down in front of him as he sprawled in his armchair with wide-open legs. William was all eyes.

“Hey, William, why not take off your clothes too, and come over and join the action,” Jessie suggested. William almost jumped off the sofa to strip. Then he walked to Jessie’s armchair and stood with his dick close to my face. Jessie pulled my mouth off his cock, and pushed my head onto William’s tool, which was now good and hard. I began my usual action, then glanced at Jessie. He was watching with obvious fascination as William face-fucked me. I alternated between the two, with Jessie coming first. William took his time, as he did the first time I sucked him. So a good time was had by all.

The next day after lunch, I asked Jessie if he was up to a bath, and he readily agreed. I told him that afterwards I would give him a great massage. In the shower he asked me what pleasure I got from sucking dick, and I explained that it was my natural desire to sexually satisfy other men. As usual, I began to play with his dick during his bath. Then he dealt me a great surprise. He took my cock and began to jerk it off. He said, “You know, deep down I always wanted to do this, but never had the guts.” I knew then and there that he would eventually suck my dick.

I asked, “Am I making you a good wife?”

“No woman could do all that you do for me,” he replied enthusiastically.

The routine with Jessie and William settled into a normal rhythm. Every couple of days William would stop by for a threesome. But I like to feel a mouth on my dick too, which I wasn’t getting. So I discussed an idea with Jessie and William. I would use Jessie’s computer to put an ad on Craigslist. I decided to advertise for an older cocksucker without teeth who liked to service straight guys. Old guys have more experience. We took a selfie of the three of us nude, with our dicks hard, and I posted it. Enough to make any old cocksucker’s mouth water. There aren’t many ads like that on Craigs. Sure enough I got several replies. The closest was a guy who lived about 40 miles away, but wanted to address the challenge.

          He said that he was free the next day and I gave him the directions and Jessie’s cell number. I told him to arrive about 2 p.m. When he was getting close, he phoned to say that he was arriving. We all three took off our clothes to wait for his arrival. Soon after, a fancy white Mercedes came up the driveway. I peered out to see a bald and fat man about 74 years old. We left the door ajar. He knocked and I told him to come in. He almost had a heart attack when he came in, and looked from one to the other of us to decide which one to tackle first. For some reason he chose me.

          He was a good cocksucker, and even William came fast. I told him that he was always welcome to suck us off. So that’s what life was like down on the farm.

Mighty Mouth

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 Feel free to comment on Gaydemon or directly to me by email: [email protected]

They sat in the tack room, the office, the place where Dane had figured out how to be a cowboy, the place where Heck took him in his arms to make him  love a cowboy but now….just two men, never met before and never likely to meet again. They had shaken hands, but it was more like shaking the hand of someone on a reception line. Heck sat where he’d always seated himself until…Dane took over. Sam took the chair, the one Will or whomever helped him learn how to run a ranch after Heck left for Vegas and then left him for another. These two men, only one thing in common but does commonality cease when the thing in common dies?

“Sam, uh, he didn’t leave you anything, guess you know that by now. Never changed his will so…his Dad and I are the primary beneficiaries…you want to see it, I got a copy of the will right here.”

He slapped a blue paper covered document on the desk. Sam never even looked at it.

“He was a wealthy man, spect you know that…..” There was a silence which indicated either he did or didn’t give a shit. He was there because he’d been asked, well, summoned was more like it, by the man whom he wholly blamed for the Death of the man he loved. Com…pletely. 

“I want to be generous…”

“Don’t bother…he didn’t do generous… he did what he felt like n if that’s all or nothin’ don’t matter two fucks to me. He’s dead, well, I guess, he’s dead to both of us…We buried him, member? Today?” Heck was trying to hold back the tears that choked him as surely as the hangman’s noose. “‘N you, shit for brains, caused this whole fuckin’ mess. Leave a man by the side of the road, tellin’ him, here, take this dude, fuck him, I’ll get back to you if an when I feel like it but..fucker, you ain’t did feel like it, you got stars in yer eys, all sittin’ up there bouncing yer balls and the man who did all this was so excited, ‘n I was there, he jumped up and fell fifty feet, broke his neck…just like you’d a hanged him. That’s on you cocksucker. Don’t tell me he didn’t leave me nothin’ cuz I never asked fer nothin. He gave me the only thang no man every did an that was his love…you know what Will, an he’s a swell feller too, told me? He spent the first days, fuck, months tryin’ to keep yer man from killin’ himself. You owe a lot to that man, Will, he doesn’t hang on and Dane and that Gawd awful truck, fuck…he’d been over some fuckin line n took on a eighteen wheeler. You wan yer man fuckin road kill? Huh, Answer me cocksucker cuz you got a lot a answerin to do.”

By now he was standing, full battle pose, waiting for an answer..waiting…waiting…..

“Ah, Fuck.” Sam reached over the desk, grabbed Heck and pulled him over, threw him on the floor and dropped down on him, just like a wrestler. Both his arms pinned, and one big knee cap straight up his crotch hit so hard he couldn’t scream, he made the sound of the deepest pain the shuddering moan, the fear of what might come next.

What came next was Sam flipping him on his face, mashed it so maybe he broke his nose, ripped off his pants, slammed his fist into Heck’s ass and only waited till he could strip, all the way. Took his fist out replacing it with his diamond hard dick. 

“You like it? Dane did and he could take it, fuck  we’d beat the sperm, outa our nuts then lay back n suck em dry. Hard man, good man, strong man…” Sam spit into the shaved hole, stuck two fingers in plus his cock and went to work. Each down stroke made Heck shudder, deep, his prostate was attacked but the way it was done, no pleasure just the prayer it would be left in…

Sam loved this kind of hard fucking, he and Dane did it all the time once he got Dane strong enough and to the understanding of pain and pleasure. Damn, the two of them could go for hours, blood came out but their cocks, almost ripped off, their nuts so compressed by strong fists it was like the cords tore just to get away from the onslaught. 

Sam got his hand under Heck’s head, reversed and smashed it on the floor repeatedly, twisted it round, looked at it, bashed it again. “Okay, pretty boy, lets see that on stage tomorrow…I’d rip yer nuts off but theys other men relying on you so…that just saved yer life.”

Sam pumped away until he felt the dark river of heavy sperm, sperm loaded with hate and vengence…flipped Heck, stuck his cock the man’s mouth and unloaded. “Guess yer a swallower…”

Up on his knees, he took Heck by his hands, rose up further then dragged him through the office, out the door, through the barn until he was by the hay hook by the big doors outside. Tempted, oh fuck was he tempted, to throw him on the hooks and see what pierced him….instead, he just dropped him and walked away. 

The trail of blood that showed where Heck had been said in the most explicit terms, I am a man who has been not just fucked, not raped, but violated by the man who had every right to do so. He lay there until tears fell down his twisted nose onto the flat ground worn solid by an infinity of horses and men. He tried to rise, couldn’t, fell back, waited for help…he knew if Dane were alive, well, what if he were…none of this would have happened. He knew that his penance was his to give, would be painful and last,,,,, that whatever pain he’d been given was a gift, the first of many he supposed. Sam would be around every corner, his hand out, waiting to snatch him by his neck. He tried to rise again, up a bit, rolled on one side, the one that hurt the least. 

It was then he started screaming. Not pain but fear, of the future there, laying on the ground, he knew something a fact so quickly learned he almost missed it. In the gust front of his mind, the horrible wind, the wind that picked men up and dropped them as less than men…he knew what he wanted. The wind told him he had sinned…..

　

Days later, after the show, Heck patted Ram, got to the dressing room where someone started to peel the layers of heavy make up that concealed the scars, the bruises…even his testicle bag had a deep tissue bruise. No one asked, some knew, some didn’t want to know. Bob had stopped speaking to him other than about the show, changes, shit like that. Those who hadn’t known, now did, about a day a long time ago, when he sent a man for the person who loved him the most forever to fuck so he could play with someone else. They didn’t despise him but…they’d known Dane, the handsome man with the big muscles and the charmingly big smile. Some had memories of him in a barber shop in Texas trying to figure out how to do things that people would like. It was very quiet backstage. Now that the show was a solid hit, the media came around and found….silence. Questions were politely answered, but really, no information. Even questions about the sexuality of the performers, sure hot button issues, were answered directly, honestly but with no further detail. Occasionally one reporter would ask a man, stark naked save for a gold cock cover over the head of same, about the proclivities of another perfomer; The answer was meant to freeze and it did, “go ask him”.

Since he opened the show, Lannie would go out  to the casino, the street in front of it and, fully clothed, give quick demonstrations and show people, in the casino, the lobby, wherever people asked, how it was done that in the end, it was just hard, cold practice. Phil, one of the line and in almost every scene, would wander around twirling a rope, catch a pretty girl, a handsome man… Bob was another favorite, some liked his body-face it, men’s bodies was what this show was nominally about-but more just liked him, open faced army dog face who always smiled. When he wasn’t on stage he usually wandered around in his old Camis and a green T shirt with the show’s name on it with a wide belt from which clippers hung. You wanted a cut like the guys in the show? sure thing. Sit down, Mister, flat? high n tight, full butch? In the casino, he had trouble getting away so popular was he and his haircuts. Even Ram, the black stallion, occasionally wandered through with one of the guys-fully dressed as what he really was, a cowboy-keeping a soft hand on his rope bridle. On the street children loved him and the gentleman with him always had a supply of treats for the children, and some adults, to feed him. For a stallion, he was only slightly less gentle than a bunny, loved to give bareback rides, meaning he was bareback not the rider-riders who were bare was for later and not on the street-to people who were photographed sitting, usually nervously, on his wide back. Whatever the content of the show, these simple acts by the men-and the horse-probably brought as much business as the interests of those who were there to see male cock at full attention. 

(The gift shop had to, first open a whole counter and, later, the “Sergeant Sword” Gallery where you could buy souvenirs, camouflage studded jocks, pictures, clippers, cast books, videos of the show-with the more exposing parts deleted-army fatiques-signed by various cast members, Navy white caps, tattoo stencils….Sammy knew what the take at the gate was for the show but also what the take was at the gift shop for the show related merchandise-split 50/50 with not just Dane, Heck and some others, but with the whole eighteen cast members,,,and now there was a request from an East Coast Casino to have a franchise there. The answer was, of course, NO, but it suggested how this show and its basic good humor and fine looking men, went further than the boobs and babes some other casinos had as their floor show. Also, compared to a pair of fatigues or thirteen button Navy blues, the cost of one glitter and spangled covered bra was outrageous. The tipping point-Jesus how bright Dane had been-was when men, perfectly straight, came to see the show as part of a boys night out. The reason? For a lot of guys this was an abstract of their service experience, the only difference being the guys in the barracks on stage looked better than the guys in the barracks they remembered. But..what the hell? These guys with their memories were always welcome back stage to meet with their fantasy platoon. What they did not notice was someone with a legal pad making occasional notes as to expressions they used, incidents they told…..much of which could and was put into the show which made it more real; Many guys sitting in the audience would grow misty when something they’d done or said now was here on stage just as they’d said it or done it. Too, Dane caught it, a barracks isn’t a place for full dress anything. Granted he had no personal experience being in the service-though once in a print ad for the Coast Guard he’d been kitted out as a sailor on a cutter….so in addition to the nudity and virtual nudity, there were men in baggy boxers, all printed on the leg with some service mumbo jumbo….)

　

Standing alone a block or two from the casino was a man, waiting for a man, a man he knew would come, as his property, it was his responsibility to show…..In his pocket was the steel collar, the cock cage, the ball stretchers, all five of them. 

He fell on his knees, his hands together waiting to be chained. The collar put around his neck-someday, he was told-it would be welded permanently. He was made to rise simply by one man seizing his hard cock-kept hard almost constantly by drugs. The audience loved it but he knew that eventually, the drugs would fail, he’d have a permanently limp dick until the surgery was done to make it rise and stay that way, stiff, lacking in feeling, but, boy howdy, it looked great. A chain belt around his waist with a chain leash attached to it. He was moved forward toward a pickup with a camper top….but this was no camper, this was a cage in which the manacled man was shoved, chained to certain detention points, the door slammed and locked and the truck moved out.

　

Sam had, with Mar’s help, found a conveniently unoccupied warehouse that had several floors, the equipment to move things up and or down, holes through which to lower material, all the purpose driven things Sam wanted. Mars, too, found it convenient to move some of his louder activity away from his estate, particularly after the attack of the drones which showed the vulnerability of anything with air space. Did this mean he no longer used his home for his own personal amusement, as well as his paying clientele, no, it just meant that with a ready made dungeon master who was permanently motivated to pain, it’s causes and infliction, why not expand? His everyday life, as a hot shot somewhat crooked attorney, supplied most of his intellectual cravings but to drop in on “The Warehouse”-the name was already on the building so they left it-provided him with another sort of stimulation, the sort that almost undid his pants for him. Sam and Mars both knew what they liked even if how they liked it varied. 

Delivered every night Heck was made a “regular” in that he had his own cubicle equipped with prison style water and toilet. Normally chained, he had enough room to use it as well as lay on a cot. Nude, he learned to adjust to the cold and heat for which Nevada is famous for and, something he hadn’t planned on, his fame upon the wicked stage, was used to demonstrate to recent arrivals that the famous could and would suffer as they would. Equal opportunity. His excuse for absence after the theatre and reasons for not taking invitations, even having a phone at which he could be reached was that since the death of Dane, he needed the solitude. And he was getting it, just not as his suggestions would lead anyone to believe. And, after all, he was the star of the show, at least nominally, so since nothing wrong happened, his being gone was ignored.

　

Sam didn’t quickly tired of him, oh no, he knew so much about bondage and discipline, sadism and masochism, cock and ball torture plus good old fashioned torture that Heck almost always had something new to look forward to each night and, to honor Dane, he was forced to muscle up, get the bulk that Dane and Sam had to take the torture they knew and loved, he was led to understand, when he was big enough… what might happen hung in the air like the stench of foetid cheese.

His evenings, considering the late hour he was available for continuing punishment, started with a two hour work out supervised by a friend of Mars who specialized in turning big men bigger using what ever methods that took. Great for him to learn a full barbell routine but better when they took the needle to him and stacked him up with ‘roids, all kinds, some not even tested on rats. Must have worked, Heck was sick when he saw what he was becomming, a muscle headed freak who’s only career would involve a posing strap, body shaving and being kept oiled. After, of course, the show closed. His one salvation was that it was a hot ticket and showed no signs of even slowing down; Shows such as theirs that had no star sometimes ran for years, new material added, new cast members slipped in, years. Heck thought about that and wondered and hoped as he was chained to a weight bench, a barbell loaded with plates cutting across his field of vision. 

Some nights he’d have the puppies, Click and Joey, do to him what he’d done to them, the double fuck. Mounting an increasing pumped up Heck felt better as his ass expanded giving him a deeper hole. Tied down with his ass in the air, they’d dump hot sauce down him, carefully put on industrial strength condoms and make male salsa. 

But the torture he most feared wasn’t one that was inflicted, it was one he was allowed to imagine; His cubicle was strategically next to the “intake” area where newbies were brought for indoctrination or whatever it was felt they needed to get with the program. Because he heard the conversation before these guys were hauled away, he had an inkling of what they might expect and, for some, who’d thought playing with Mars was a special thing, found out just how special it was. Heck would cringe at the sound of something that sounded like clippers, hear the muffled protests of a man gagged, protesting having his head, or sometimes his whole body, shaved. That was just the cost of entry. And the easiest.

For all his virginity at one stage in his life, Dane and his cousin were exposed to a whole panoply of sex, sexual practices, discussions of said sex and practices which, compared to a country hick such as Heck, made them very sophisticated in ways they didn’t even realize; It was around them, they absorbed which, probably, led to their distress at being virgins as they approached twenty. Being in front of the camera hardly protected them from what on behind the camera. The best photographers, such as Alexei, made sure they were never approached for anything other to have their make up freshened or a costume changed as they slid from tooth paste to mouth wash. It was well known that one photographer had sold some guy the access to Dane in his dressing room and already had his pants down, with a gun to Dane’s neck, when he was jumped and taken away. This wasn’t publicized but in the industry, it shot through like perfume at a prom. Yes, there were some promiscuous models who for money or the hell of it, would do whatever….that did not include Dane and his cousin;The word went out that they were to be treated like Plutonium, one touch could get your fingers, and further up and down, very badly damaged.

　

In some few cases, Mars brought out paying customers who liked it rough and knew Mars and his staff could provide it. Knowing what could be done, what had been done, and the implanted fear of both, the guys who came to Mars got more than their money’s worth; Some even became repeat customers indeed so often that Mars moved their status from “customer” to “availble”. One night during their usual shearing, Mars would stroll in, his happy self carrying a well made leather brief case. The “customer” found himself secured, the case opened and there was his future. His collar, permanent cuffs at both ankle and wrist as well as his own marks, done by their resident inkster, on his balls making sure that this merchandise, if found, would be returned. Beyond that, and Heck feared his future might include one as well, a needle placed a tracking device in their neck usually used on dogs, not painful but there forever, even if he was sold, which not infrequently happened, the number and the code went with him making it easy for his new owner to keep track of him. Usually  in a week or two the merchandise was brought back for some additional improvements if a client had been found. The worst of these was the removal of all sexual organs, including the prostate and, when that had healed, a false, but very deep, vagina was cut in. Getting fucked on both sides, said to be quite a scene. 

Now and then when Sam was working him over in the gym, he’d find himself pinned to the floor with a barbell loaded with heavy weights. Sam would squat over him and lovingly trace where he might have certain adjustments made. Because he said so, Heck knew his cock and balls were goners it was what lay beyond that which colored his nightmares. Not just the vagina but widening his ass, increasing  the size of his nipples, with his finger tracing where the tattoos would go…right up the side of his neck and on to his head. Again, the show protected him as long as it ran. And that was a bit of a problem. 

　

They guys worked hard every night, two shows on Friday and Saturday. Unlike other Vegas shows where chorus girls and boys could swap out if they needed a vacation or just some time off, Sergeant Sword was a close knit show. Replacing any one, even for a night was difficult. For example, Lannie and the rifle twirling…no way could anyone, outside the service, be found to do it. Yes, there was one kid in Syracuse, New York who had most of it down for his ROTC troop but there was no reason to think a University with the reputation of Syracuse was going to release one of their students to appear in a Vegas show more or less-usually less in other parts of the show-naked. The kid, privately said, you bet, he’d practice twice as hard, naked, and even pay his own way IF he could take Lannie’s place for a night or two. The first thing, the rifle swirl, was one thing but appearing in other parts in a silver mesh posing strap and nothing else, no. Besides he was only 17. He remained motivated to do it and kept in touch with…Mars and Jerry, not knowing the other was in contact wih the same kid, told him to work out, get that build going, keep in touch, send photos and contacts… and you never knew….

　

One day Heck and Click were side by side, each attached to a steel column, arms out spread, legs far apart with spreaders, necks, with matching steel collars, held loosely to the column by a few inches of chain. Sam and Mars came in, walked around, took pictures, took measurements, shoved large dildos up their asses, stuck long, flexible sounds down their dicks, attached electric pads to their tits…..the electricity wasn’t too painful, compared to what it could be used to do to him. The platforms on which they stood rotated. One dildo out, a larger one in. 

“Whaddya think?

“Close, very close…one needs more bulk, start him on roids, double dose, take him off the force.”

“What if…we change him slightly, not try and fool anyone….maybe…pierce his tits, give him some ink?”

“Ummmm. Gotta get him pumped up.” He slapped Click’s ass with a dog quirt. “Ever wanted a career in show business?”

　

Heck went cold, his dick dropped, no matter what they’d put in him. This was his end, this was the man they’d bring in to replace him. He couldn’t even look but he remembered Click, remembered the magnificent head of hair, the open, boyish smile…grasping for a reason to think this wouldn’t work, what if Ram wouldn’t accept him?

“Okay, take ’em down string em up, get the snakes, at least on the old one….maybe just a little line…”

“The other one?”

“Give him to Sam, he’s been wanting a cop to kill.” They laughed. “Sides, he knows how to fuck this one….and likes to do it.”

Click was as terrified as Heck, they were both in it and he was right, Sam did know how to fuck him…fill him with roids? He wondered if he’d ever see Joey, his partner, the man he loved, again. Now both men had tears…although for differing reasons; One wondered about his life, the other about his life’s love….

　

It was cold as only Vegas can get with wind straight from the mountains. The snow line was almost at the edge of town, no swimming and people hustled along Fremont Street not noticing the lights above, the music playing Elvis singing ‘Viva Las Vegas’. 

　

Out in the lush suburbs, a frightened young man pulled up in a pickup that  had almost his whole life in it. Joey was deathly afraid, now, but…he had to go to the door, see if it would open and, maybe, he’d find out something.

A pleasant faced Mars opened the door and almost dragged him in.”Christ, Joey, what the fuck are you doing out here? Cold? Look at you, what’s wrong youngster, come on in…here, give me your hoodie, lets get you out of those cold clothes and into something warm, come on….Joey, Joey, you’re shuddering child..what’s the matter?”

They got to Mars ‘public’ bedroom, Mars leading the grown up man, cop tho he was, today he was a little boy, scared and with the one man he both feared and trusted. 

Mars threw open a closet packed with clothes. “Take off those cold clothes and,,,here, warm socks, jock, hoodie, long sleeve T shirt-got my logo, too-uh….oh, here, some warm pants, just pull ’em up, nothing fits? Just pull the strings until they do. Oh, here’s some warm fleece lined slippers…anything else, you don’t want that, take what you like… Hell you’re a man just get some warm clothes on you, you know how to get dressed…I’ll be in by the fire.”

Joey had never seen so many clothes, it was like…nothing he’d ever known existed and belonged to one man. Growing up poor new clothes, apart from shoes, were unheard of but in here….Wow. He remembered something about Mars, he liked sex, had fucked him all sorts of ways so maybe a little sexy was the way to go…and still stay warm….Not that Joey really knew how to look sexy but then, he just was.

　

Mars had fixed himself a drink and, given the chill and the season, made Joey a strong Egg Nog. Very strong. He liked Joey, he liked Click, he liked having sex with them, seperately and together plus now he had one isolated although Joey knew spot nothing nor was he going to learn much. At least much that was true. Mars had another purpose for Joey and he’d walked into just as if it had been planned.

Joey appeared looking good. He’d found some close fitting jeans, almost one size too small, a long sleeve T, a bit snug, a jock plus some knee length wool socks. Mars said nothing but realized he’d tried to dress to please if not thrill; Very doubtful he knew how to do that…yet.

Handing him a drink, Mars had him sit on the curved couch near him but not next to him. He’d cross that creek just not yet, he wanted Joey, loose, willing, happy to be there happy to be with this man who, he thought could help. Joey took a big gulp, found it tasted pretty good and not too alcoholic, he had some problems holding his liquor, a fact Mars remembered which was why the egg nog; The heavy creamy, spicey taste covered the five fingers of alcohol that were also in it. He took another big drink…the nice clothes, the fire place, the comfortable room, Mars…he was relaxing not so afraid but still had some serious questions. 

　

Mars started the the Q&A to keep it going the direction he wanted. “Okay, Joey, I can see you’re very upset and I really appreciate you came to me, shows great confidence and I appreciate that. I also know that you got locked out of your apartment for no good reason and you’re really frightened about Click, how’m I batting so far?”

“Thousand Sir, specially bout Click I spose you know all about us…we’ve been your puppies an now I’m just a stray. He looked down and took another large drink, the foam leaving a moustache on his upper lip. Mars smiled, leaned over and wiped it off, letting Joey eat the concoction from his finger. He extended one arm along the top of the sofa and as if he was caught by a magnetic force, Joey moved into the comforting muscle of the arm.
“Here, finish that and I’ll get you a new one, might even have one myself.” Joey smiled, drank deeply, handed the tankard to Mars who slipped up, over to the wet bar. He liked Joey, really did and knew what to do. Started with two new mugs, Joey’s about half filled withe Bourbon, added the egg nog, added some strong cinnamon spice, made one for himself with amost no booze and returned to where they had been sitting. Joey took it in  both hands, commenting on the warmth of the mug while Mars drew him closer until he was nestled in his arms, his head close to being on his chest. 

“Lets talk about Click and where he’s been and what he’s doing…cuz it’s all good.” Joey looked at him took a sip and wondered when he could see him cuz, well, Mr. Mars kinda knew they were a pair…

Mars smiled, he knew that for sure but for just a few days, Joey would have to be patient but he promised him, promised that it would all be great and Joey would be soo proud of Click….

“Sir….I know you’ll tell me straight but Click, he’s not in trouble, anything like that….?”

Mars exploded with laughter, said no, Click was in no trouble he was just getting ready for a big change in his life and, just for now, he’d do better if he was left at the place that was training him, kind of like going to the police academy….a man has to learn how to do certain things before he can be set loose to do them. This was logic that Joey completely understood and, with Mars saying it, relaxed, quit worrying about his lover

“Sir, uh, when they locked us out, well, I don’t have much money, won’t get paid til the end of the month so….”

“You’re home, son.” Joey almost cried he was so relieved and he believed, now, things were going to be alright, Mars always made things alright. He settled into the older man’s arms….”Sir, remember what you used to do to Click and me?” Only an idiot would have forgotten and Mars was no idiot.

“Of course….why, you want me to fuck you again?”

“Uh huh but….that special way, you know with the collar…..”

Mars squeezed him. “Okay, before we go to bed, I’ll take you to my special room but, hey, I got an idea….how would you like to fuck me before I fuck you? Like that? Get out the chains and you can do whatever you want cuz…you’re gonna be my man from now on and we can do that sort of thing. Would you like to be my special man? Joey? what do you think abou that…?”

“I think I’d get to live with you and sleep with you….if you let me and you can use me however you want because you know how to make me feel good ‘n maybe when Click…”

“Joey, this is just about you. Right now, I’ve got something for you. Come on….”

In the chain filled room Mars stripped him, Joey was proud to be naked and waiting. Gently, Mars took a silver collar and put it around his neck, snapped it into place then took a silver lock and secured it. He kissed Joey. “How did you like being collared? Means your mine now. Right here, he lifted the solid collar, up front, I’ll have my initials engraved so everyone knows who you belong to and when we have some one here, I’ll take off that padlock and make the joint permanent…think you’ll like that?”

“Yes, Sir, I love it.” He ran his hands around the heavy piece, feeling how smooth it was; Mars turned him toward a mirror.

“See, you’re my man now, can’t call you a boy, not with these between your legs and now….”He smiled as he reached for the buckle on his pants,”I believe I promised you could do something, remember?”

Joey smiled and touched his collar…”You said I could fuck you…however I wanted.”

“That I did.:” He finished removing his clothes. “So , you know how we can do things, what would you like to do to me…?:”

Joey looked around the room at all the things but it came to him. “I want to lock you down with as many locks and chains as possible then lay on top and let my prong go in you….but first, cuz I’m your man…I wanna suck you dry.”

Mars smiled and leaned back on the table, his cock and balls hanging over the edge, waiting for Joey to drink his milk…for the first time as his possession. 

The young man dropped to his knees, started working the cock gently then hoisting his balls. “You got big balls sir I never noticed. Almost bigger than a porno star….”

“Would you like to be in a porno flick? Just you getting serviced by a handsome man? Rubbing you, telling you what a great dick you had, hefting your big, meaty balls, turning them over in his soft hands, leaning down, licking the head…just like I like to have my head licked….”

Joey smiled, leaned in, stuck out his tongue ready to  wash one, then another then both low hangers before he moved up to milk the Bull. Maybe it would be better if he just let Mars fuck him, he was collared to him now….he should be the one doing the fucking. When Click came back, that’s who should fuck him….he wondered if Mars would put a silver collar on Click, make him his, well, his other man? Only Joey lived in a world where fidelity had much meaning but…he was faithful to Click, he was preparing for the future and, with that comforting thought, took Mars dick right down his throat.

　

Sam took the key and quietly opened the door to the suite; Didn’t look good. A standing lamp was half over a chair, the acrid smell of smoke and liquor made a pall in the room better than smog over a Los Angeles Freeway and, just as he’d feared, one motorist had missed the turn at Western and was on the floor. 

Since Dane’s death, he’d gotten close to his father, tried to be a buddy, spend time with him but increasingly Jerry wanted to buddy up to Johnny Walker Black or Red, who gave a fuck. As he knew how to do, he checked him for pulse, bruises, breaks then, finding nothing that time wouldn’t cure, carefully lifted him up, put him on the bed, stripped off his clothes-he’d pissed in his pants which needed to be cleaned-headed for the bathroom, got wet towels, dry towels, did the clean up, remembered to tell housekeeping….a chore he’d prefer not to do…and thought about what to do next.

　

At the Warehouse, someone ran a piece of steel across the slit in Heck’s window. “Hey, pretty boy, yer gittin moved. The De Luxe Apartment in the sky…” then laughed in a way that was chilling. Chained, blind folded and gagged, he was walked or dragged a long way, the sounds and smells changed, it was frighteningly quiet. “You know what they do here, Pretty boy?” He ran a scalpel across Heck’s abdomen. “Yeah, but lower. You just may have been to your last round up…”

They chained him to a bed that, surprizingly, had some sheets, a pillow, a blanket but spread eagled, he was not able to enjoy these amenities. If what the guy who dragged him here was true, he was about to have his balls turn into prairie oysters. 

The door opened again and another “resident’ was brought in, attached to the other bed and then they were left alone. In the silence, gagged, blindfolded and stretched out, time moves either very slowly or quickly depending on what your’re dreading most. By now, beaten into submission, forced to bulk up, made to do the show with a smile on his face, death would be a release. The other person? Probably the same fate. He made no noise which suggested he was out cold or, more likely, sedated. Heck wanted desperately to hear a human voice, just one that wasn’t carrying a metal tray with a syringe or…in it. Knowing there was some other person in his situation made him sadder than he’d been, poor son of a bitch, cut him too. Moments like these…he remembered…his beautiful Dane out cold over Ram, so tired….getting a signal that Dane was somehwere, just lost. Going to get him. Having Dane lean against him just because he was there. He suddenly screamed the name, “Dane, Oh My Sweet Jesus, Dane..I kilt you and now theys gonna unman  me…” He dissolved in tears of regret and fear. 

From the other side of the room an almost silent voice said……”I had a son once, his name was Dane….”

　

　

The door had been open and Sam had been, as  he liked to do, exercising while he monitored the situation. He knew that Jerry and Heck had not spoken, seen one another, communicated since the night Dane had fallen to his death. Sam wasn’t as bright as Dane but he’d loved him and that gave him some insight into these two men and what their seperate losses had meant to them. One, of course, was far worse than the other but, and Sam believed this, they had bothed genuinely loved their deceased son and partner all that remained was to see if there was enough forgiveness between them to resume their lives. Well, some form of their lives; Sam could not completely forgive Heck and, depending on the next few days….he’d know what to do.

　

Click was virtually naked, almost scared into his clothes. Standing back stage, listening to the music, seeing Lannie take his position, knowing he had some minutes before he would walk out then there was the matter of the horse; Ram had been skittish during the rehearsel probably proving that animals react to the nerves of the humans around him. Best Click could do was pray when they got to the finale, he would do his usual buck, beat the air with his front hooves and not try and throw him into the audience or back stage or whever he landed. As had been drilled into him, a lot depended on tonight…..Click was able to think…maybe the rest of his life.

　

Joey was snuggled up by Mars who had changed not only his mind, but his heart, a rarity for him. He liked Joey, his affection and unrivaled ability at sex made him a worthwhile person to have around. No idea why he’d collared him but to watch the joy on his face when he heard the noise that meant he was now part of something….what Mars didn’t know, couldn’t know was how terrifying Joey’s dreams were. He was constantly back there, in a shack, little or no food, huddling for warmth, but he was always at school. Teachers took a sort of pity and contrived to have a sandwich or some fruit for him to take home probably not realizing it would snatched from him by the older children.

And his looks…every teacher noticed those, more so as he grew into young adult hood, graduated. He was stunning. Too stunning perhaps, as his graduation remembrance his father had fucked him until he bled reminding him that he was trash and now, fuck his fine education, he’d put him to work in the fields where no one would ever see him again, in the fields where no one looked up. Worse, his father was the overseer, the man who encouraged workers with a whip that he was not averse to using. 

The field they were in that day was next to a railroad track which mattered not until a train broke down, had to remain there and, when it was repaired off it went with a non paying passenger in an open hopper. 

Joey had no idea where he was, never had known, just lived in a shack, went to school then to work but school had given him just enough ambition, something in his family as rare as a full turkey dinner that, when there was the chance, he held his breath and took it. Toward evening-and it was summer so it was perhaps around eight, they slowed down which was when Joey dared to look up and out. What he saw was like nothing in any book; In the middle of nowhere, there was a collage  of intensely bright light, he thought he could hear noise and decided, once the train slowed enough to safely jump off he would. Welcome to Las Vegas. 

　

Sam was taking care of Jerry and, of necessity, Heck; They received wildly different care. Jerry knew about drunks and hangovers and men who became drunks, something he was determined would not happen to Jerry. What he was doing was a form of determined detox probably not suggested by AA and Sam would never, ever have been suggested as a sponsor. Still, as a few days went by, the tremors disappeared, he seemed to sleep, he was calmer, accepted the circumstances without knowing what they were; Clearly he had a memory or memories of the last period of time, of bottles and filth…but here, even tautly held down, gagged and his eyes covered, he was warm and to the degree that anyone in his situation could feel, felt better. 

Across the room a mind game was being played on Heck, a nasty one but one, well, someone thought it was a good idea. When he wasn’t lashed down, he was tied to the shitter then, when he was collected from there, was hung from a hook, marks made abouth his crotch, the sound of some sort of buzzing and, usually, a man with a lewd laugh would pull the knife across his belly, ever lower until, now, it just grazed the top of his cock which, given what turned him on, got stiff. An invitation to have electric surrounds put there and he was milked several times. Bed, or his cot or whatever felt good after that even though he was steadily more tautly strung out…at least there was no buzzing going through his cock, making it work…He was afraid to moan or make any noise for his fear was that it would attract attention and the knife. As with all men, he really, really did not want to lose his baby makers but in his fear, an attendant hope was that…their loss might be his way out. No nuts, no further purpose. He knew the show had gone on without him, no Dane, Nothing.

　

Sam and Mars trusted each other…up to a point, typical of men who did what they did in the way they did it. Each respected the others abilities-Mars was stunned when Heck came back from the funeral; He hadn’t seen that professional a beat down since, well, he left Chicago. Sam liked Mars life style, liked the instruments of pain, the way he could be used by them, the work out space…living there had real advantages and now Mars had something for him to work with, not work over. He took Joey under his body building wings and started the work to make Joey the partner for Click again; Yes, he would stay with Mars but, and they discussed it, Click would also be collared but to Mars. Both men like the pair and, in some distant past, could empathize with what at least Joey had gone through. Working at his desk, figuring out how to make a steel spread eagle that could be controlled hydraulicly, he suddenly wondered…how the fuck did either of them get in the police force? Not that they weren’t good, and great officers, too dumb to be dishonest and too good not to understand the insides of a grim situation. He was sorry to relieve the LVPD of them but in the long run, their own tendency to sympathy would have eventually caught their ass in a sling. Also, it was nice to have the bikes….all painted, the communication gear from the PD…good thing the kids, as he sometimes thought of them, couldn’t be touched for lifting them. And then he laughed…with all this improvement, the only part of their uniforms that might still fit would be their helmets and their boots.

　

Two chairs were placed face to face. It was an empty room with one wall missing…to allow the cameras and the onlookers. Earlier that day, Sam had slipped in, stuffed Hecks ears so he could hear only vague sounds, sounds that would distress him. Across from him, he picked up Jerry, now sober and confused as to why and where and who and what….but he would soon find that out. As gently as one might a newborn, Sam carried him to a spa-another new addition to The Warehouse-plunked him in the water, removed all his restraints and, in one ear, told him to close his eyes as the lights would be painful. Something he’d never expected, Sam was hugging him, welcoming him back and, for several hours between massage, swirling water in a steel tank, rest under a heat lamp…the time between what he last remembered and now was updated and, once that had sunk in-some of it took two tries-what was not to happen was explained. But only after he’d been put to bed, given something to let him relax then sleep….

　

Sleep was a popular activity that day. Mars and Joey were tucked in, Joey snuggled under the other man, occasionally finding his way to his breast and suckling like a child. Stupid ass, Mars told himself, he was falling for this innocent kid who, after all he’d had done to him, all he didn’t understand…still had the human emotion of caring for some one. That’s when the knocker sounded. Getting quietly out of bed, snatching a robe from the top of a chair as he passed it and hoping like hell it was not, well, there were several people he didn’t want there and now, everyone from the overly friendly UPS driver there to get picked up to Sam to…fuck, anyone. 

What was behind door number one was…a bright eyed, handsome kid with a crewcut, wearing a letterman’s leather Syracuse  jacket over a heavy hoodie, with Syracuse on it, which was on top of sweat pants-that matched the hoodie and had Syracuse on them down each leg. On his back was a large duffel bag, marked, not Syracuse, but USMC and in his gloved hands, a rifle which, in Mars face, he twirled. 

Mars tried to stick this together with some vague memories of some ROTC, or maybe it was weekend warriors, well, whoever the hell it was. this must be the guy who wrote asking to do what Lannie did…but who said what to him? Maybe Jerry, he seemed most likely but he was out of commission just then. Getting the whirling stopped he got the kid into the room and, simple questions…

“Who the fuck are you, how did you get my address and what in hell do you want. Also, give me that gun, you’re not old enough to know how to play with it.” The kid’s face fell into abject sadness, all he could do was do a search through several pockets and finally produced a letter which he handed to Mars. Didn’t take long to read it as well as recognize the Sergeant Sword emblem from the show. He read it again, recognized Jerry’s signature then looked up.

“Do not tell me you’re really Bud Anderson….you got a sister called Kitten and an older sister, Betty…what kind of a fucking joke is this?” The kids head dropped even futher and a tear or two dropped on something that said Syracuse on it.

“Mister, I hitched out here from New York because this man wrote…”

“I can read what he wrote and that was to stay in school, get a body on you and maybe, in the future etc etc. He did not ask you to come here….”

“…know that….” put his duffel down and took a heavy envelope from it…handed it to Mars who opened it, took out the contents and almost dropped them. “Kid, how old are you?”

“Eighteen, turned eighteen the day I high tailed it out of town.”

“Jesus, who took these pictures, they’re, well, they’re almost porno except for a few that are hard  core….why would you stick a rifle up your ass?” There was a voice behind him.

“Because he ran away and had to make sure they wanted him gone…bout right? You left these pictures, and I ain’t even seen them, get around town….”

Mars turned to look at Joey, stark naked, standing there but, he suspected, absolutely right.  Mars took a moment..

“You want to be in the show don’t you, you’re a gay man and back in wherever you heard about us and Lannie and his rifle….”

His head stayed down but the tears increased. It was Joey who went to him, put an arm around him, helped him remove a few layers before sweat stuck them to him…turned to Mars, told him he’d take Bud and they’d be right back. 

Mars went to the bar, pulled out a bottle, tipped it up, and let it glug three times. On the third glug the door knocker knocked again….

He looked at the rifle on the floor and thought….fuck, I haven’t shot anyone in years….

　

A fully conscious Jerry was getting ready for what might be the saddest conversation of his life. Seated in a comfortable chair, looking like the wealthy, kind man he was, he faced a plain chair with Heck firmly secured in it, his eyes, ears and mouth sealed shut, a painful, tooth encrusted cock ring being installed which included an electric wire leading to a box, such a kid might have fore his model train and held by Sam who was standing behind Jerry. There were others, Will, Bob, two or three of the guys from the base in Amarillo who were now in the show, all these people who had known and loved Dane. Silently, the gag and ear plugs were removed, nothing else. To make sure it was in working order, Same gave the box a twirl, just a little one, but Heck screamed as his body contorted. One word, “Go”.

“Heck, do you know who this is? Where you are? Why you are here? You have very little time to answer.”

“I, I don’t know. I’m where Sam brings me after the show, keeps me in shape, fucks me, beats me, makes me suck him or anyone he brings…..I don’t know why I’m here…probably something about Dane.” He fell silent.

“Yes, this has to do with Dane. This has to do with what we think we should do about his loss to all of us. What do you think we should do?”

“Whatever you decide….I guess you’re gonna…..torture me then probly kill me…some real bad way….let animals eat me while I’m alive….”

“Thank you for the suggestion.” Sam blitzed his cock and nuts and this time his scream was so high pitched dogs three blocks away howled. Good thing he was well tied down, his spasms this time could have broken both arms and  both calf bones. He screeched out. “I DINT MEAN HIM NO HARM I LOVE HIM….”

“Will said when he finally found him, he was standing by the road, waiting for you, thinking you’d come home…Broke Will’s heart to have to…do what he did. Tell him what you wanted and how he was the price YOU were willing to pay for some high flying male hooker…Will is worth far more, you made him a slut so you could get away with fucking another man…..Did he feel good? Could he do what Dane did, or, maybe, could he do what Dane could not. Well, if that’s the case, only because you forgot to teach him. Sam….” and he waved his hand. This time, almost like an execution, some thought they smelled burning flesh. Heck passed out or went into  shock…

　

Still holding a bottle, Mars was looking at Harry, big smiling Harry, Harry with the horse cock now hidden under his winter UPS uniform. Feeling no need for an invitation, he walked in, kissed Mars, who for various reasons, didn’t move, passed him, got to the middle of the floor, near a couch and started removing his clothes. It even said UPS on his waffle long johns. Harry looked down, bent down, picked up a picture. “Shit, Mars, you do this? Did you pull the trigger? and then noticed several other pictures…..”I’m guessing these weren’t taken a family dinner or anything like that.” He looked at one closer. “Jeeeesus, now that’s a pair of low hanging basket balls…How deep can he take you?”

Mars took another swig and handed it to Harry who looked puzzled….”Trust me, you’re going to need this. See.. I got Oliver Twist and the Artful Dodger in another room and you and me, us, are going to fuck them…soon as I tell them. And, for fuck’s sake, close and lock the door, if anyone shows up, tell them we’re giving at the office.

　

The silence of Heck’s passing out bothered no one. Sam removed the electrical cock ring, picked up a bucket of cold water and dumped it on the slouched figure. “He’ll be back, just give him a minute. Stupid cunt, Dane or I could take that much at the same time while sucking cock, took away yer sense a taste for a couple a days but, uhm…..” Sam, brutal, strong, mean, pain loving Sam thought about a day with Dane and how they tried to take it as far as they could go….in advance agreeing that if it was too far, the other one would kill himself. That’s how they played. So when Heck screamed and collapsed, Sam just wondered at how weak he really was.

Jerry was so caught up in his own personal hell of memories, the last night, being held in Danes arms, the note,  how much he loved him how he knew Danes depth of love for him, signing it as a servant to a master and this…..Before Sam could grab him, he was out of his chair and on Heck, beating him with the wild punches that are borne of hell and frustration. Sam, for his size, was a lot faster than some might of thought, got to Jerry, pulled him off and started to take him away pausing only to tell Will to take over.

The silence, again, Bob took had two ball bearings in his pocket and began to play with them as if they were his nuts. The metallic clicking was the only sound other than a collective breathing by men who, like Jerry, were growing in anger,

　

“What in holy hell are you talking about? Oliver Twist and who?”

“Look at those pictures, that’s Oliver Twist pre or post innocence…I’m going to let you pop his cherry if he still has one. Come on, time to get your rocks off.”

Joey had Bud in bed still sniffling a little but comforted-Joey had that capacity-but even he was surprized when Mars and another man showed up. The UPS cap seemed familiar, he’d heard something from Click about a driver who knew Mars that Click occasionally blew if he caught him out on his route. 

Mars sat by Bud, mastered a pleasant, even happy if curious smile, while asking him a few things about himself. He made it clear that the other man, Harry, might like to take him in another room for a bit but….Mars carefully framed the question…how much about man on man sex did he know? What had he done?

Bud lit up like a pinball machine allowing extra balls. Disregarding what he’d tried with his hand and, Mars shuddered, a baseball bat, he jerked off all the time, worked out, like he’d been told to do real hard, took steroids and that was it, That was it until he met Josh. Josh? Mars wondered and so he asked, quietly calmly,”Who the fuck is Josh?”

“Uh, he’s a guy I met at a truck stop on I-81 when I was leaving Syracuse. See, all the stories I’d read talked about how all truckers were gay and liked having well built men with a rifle along for the ride so…I saw this one guy, real clean truck, so I climbed up the side…looked in…and I saw these magazines with naked men so…he had to be gay, right? Anyway, I’d seen him go into the diner so I followed him in…”

“With a rifle at a truck stop you…walked into a diner up to a man who had a magazine with naked men in it?” Bud nodded his head while Mars looked at Harry in some sort of stunned…..”And then?”

“Well I told him the truth, showed him the letter, he’d seen the show and even with my clothes on said without ’em, I could probably find work.” Mars and Harry passed the bottle back and forth. “He told me his name was Joshua, but everyone called him Josh and,….I lied, I told him my name was Arthur Dimmesdale, Art for short, you know the minister in The Scarlet Letter who knocks up Hester? So he asked what I wanted from him and I told him I didn’t have much money but…what I had I’d give him if he could take me to Las Vegas. Oh, and if he could screw me, that sure would help as I’d never been fucked before, at least by a man. Told him I had no practice so, if he’d see my tail and my money as payment for a ride to out here…well, I’d be grateful. “

Mars and Harry looked at each other, expressionless. Leaving Harry, he took the empty and turned it in on something full, who cared which flavor. “So, Uh, Bud, what happened then.”

“I dunno, he spit coffee all over the table but said, yep, he’d take me and, I told you he was nice, even bought me a burger and said he hoped I wouldn’t mind but he had a stop or two before we headed West.”

“Bud would you like a glass of milk or a sandwich?” Only Joey would offer some traveling fuckee milk and a sandwich in front of two men who were already moving their hands around their ever extending cocks. Bud declined. 

“So he took me to this place on the West Side of Syracuse and took me in, said I needed to be warmed up. I’d never been in a place like that….”

“Did he have you stick your cock in a hole in a wall in a dark room with porno on a screen?”

　

Heck feared Will more than Jerry; He would at least have remembered when he called him son, maybe spared him whatever was planned. Maybe it was just as well to face and accept his death, however horrible it might be and, he knew some of these guys, it would be so gut wrenchingly terrible all but the strongest conoiseur of torture and death would watch or even think it up.

“I guess it’s up to you and me, your whore that you sent to pay for your infedelity and you….the cheater. Remember what you told me to do? Remember you told me to keep him in bed so long he’d forget. Remember how you snickered and said you loved him, always would but, fuck, man, every body cheats now and then, with men like us, it’s natural. Guess you forgot to teach him that cause even when there was another man, a good man, a man who changed his life, he still loved you, said so even that last night, told Sam he loved you, wanted the show to be a success. Course by then…he knew you weren’t coming back but he had plans, he’d go back to the ranch, run it, have Sam, maybe teach him how to do things, no question, Sam would have been the bull riding, steer wraslin champion at any rodeo…I got a picture here, one of the last of him ever taken. I guess because he had so many pictures taken….well, his buddy, Alexei, the photographer talked him into this one.”

Some one handed him a large envelope, opened, Will took out the picture and, with it a piece of wood with a slit in it made to hold the picture, he put it one foot from where Heck was.

It was Dane but not the Dane he’d ever known, rolling muscles, hard muscles, not gym built but hard muscles got doing the most demanding job. He had one hand gracefully behind his cock and balls, slightly foregrounding them. But it was the look on his face, the look that loss of love gives you. He was silent, proud of what he’d made of himself, proud of what was yet to be. 

He gave Heck a moment or so to look at it,  to wait until the tears came and then he said, “This is what you finally sent to his death, looking at you, going toward you but he fell, broke his neck, died before he could reach you. So, Heck, what should we do with you?” 

　

　

Will was in some ways the only person who knew Dane’s last months and days. He knew that he’d found Sam, changed a whole lot but calmed down, didn’t talk about the ranch or Colorado or the barbershop or the show….or Heck. He and Sam, from what he saw, led a lifestyle that scared the shit out of him, the exploding bodies, Sam injected them both with something or other, but Dane never changed his personality much. Maybe got a bit shorter tempered, Sam said to should expect that, it was the roids they did and if he got mean let him handle it, don’t go near him for a bit. It was hard to look at Heck and not want to kill him, Will had a temper that suited him to violence and being around Sam accentuated it although Dane, with one or two exceptions, was his usual self. Only time he’d flinched was when they were on the road from Salt Lake to Reno when he saw an ad for the show as a coming attraction and in the middle was Heck, in a small gold Speedo, on Ram who was rearing up. That time Sam had to grab him, hold him tight while Will gunned it and got past the sign. Their lives, the three of them was, he thought, comparatively happy and, Will remembered only too clearly, the sex had never been better. Because they liked him, they gave him blow jobs and fuckings such as he’d never had. His first fisting, first double fuck but all done with patience in a way that he’d come away fully satiated, satisfied and, oh my God, with a good feeling of pleasure. Sometimes, after Dane was gone, he almost asked Sam if he could just maybe, hang around with him. Sam could use him….Now with Dane gone forever, he’d made the same offer and it was accepted, straight forward, down on the ranch, handshake closed the deal. Sam had smiled at him as he felt around his body looking for his deltoids….”Gotta get some muscle on you……..get rid of the baby fat.” They were partners.

　

Heck swam back to wherever he was. Will signaled to take off his blindfold so he could see the jury that was waiting, salivating to pass some sort of sentence.

　

” thought of a day, a winter day, in Amarillo when two men walked into my barbershop and changed my life. Hard to look at one of them and try to remember the other was dead. I was broke, had no food money and by that evening was on a private plane to a ranch in the middle of nowhere and, by the next day, had a whole new career. Plus a barbershop that was going like gang busters. The missing man was mostly responsible and I wondered…what is the correct punishment?

How did I end up on a stage wearing nothing much twirling a rifle in front of almost a thousand people every night? Whose idea was all that? I could look at Heck but only see half the man, the whole man, the man who loved every fucking one of us was dead and now there was to be some sort of punishment….Death?

I was broke, looking for work, any work, just out of the service back home in Texas when I saw the ad for naked soldiers and cowboys. Who wouldn’t answer that? Now I was all three, naked, a cowboy and a soldier. What would I do? Something that would get me sent away for a very long time.

In my mind there was nothing but a flow of pictures of Dane. His beautiful smile, his kind smile, his ability to give me just what I wanted. But most of all I thought about his kindness to everyone around…particularlly when everything was wrong, he was the calm, smiling center that somehow kept it all together just long enough for me to get the perfect picture, even the last one…I wondered what would develop if Heck….If Heck’s head were on a pole, perfectly styled and advertising a superior brand of guillotine…

“No point in pulling this out. You’re a lucky man, Heck, only the love all of us had for him spared your life cuz buddy, we would have stood you against a wall and shot you dead. We would have cut off your cock and balls and fried them. What you’re getting is a life sentence of submission to all of us. We’re gonna keep you healthy and working, working hard, whether on the stage or wherever. You’re home, this place is your prison in perpetuity. You don’t need yard time cuz you  get out for hours every day. Sam ‘ll see to it that you’re trained, hard, used hard by whoever wants a piece of you but, Heck, you’ll still be alive won’tcha? Oh, one thing, I used to work on a horse farm and used to watch what they did to Stallions who was too frisky; They got what’s called proud cut….one ball is taken out…one of yours will be taken out…just because your balls are on stage, you’ll get an artificial one….but you’ll always know that half of a great pair is gone…think about Dane everytime you put your hand there, remember only….”

He turned to the other guys. “Any one wanna watch? We’re gonna spread eagle him nail the nuts down then cut out one…don’t think we’ll bother with pain killer. Sorta like what it feels like when you fall and break your neck.” A few guys did, some just stood. Sam was good at getting him in the hydraulic spread eagle, pushed the button and watched until he was almost screaming as his joint slowly seperated. “Okay, I get to do this…where’s the nut cutting shit?”

Heck who wasn’t gagged or blindfolded-matter of fact, his head was elevated so he could watch-almost said something but the pain from his situation stopped him. 

Sam pulled up a stool, took a small board, put it on another board which was shoved under Hec’s nuts. As promised, they were pulled out and down then tacked to the board. Sam poked at the nuts, wanted to figure out which one was biggest, he’d leave that. Nothing then but to start the incision. Heck screamed and ketp on screaming but Sam was used to torturing men so the sound was just encouraging him. Found the testicle he was looking for, pulled it out to the extent of the cord, looked at Heck then took a small torch and began to sever the cord which would also cauterize it. The smell of burning man meat made him smile, he leaned in and licked the ball, and, when the flame cut it loose, he took it and popped it in his mouth….”Nothing like Man tartare. Okay, where’s the newbie?” Someone handed him a sack which proclained the contents were sterile. Sam took the remaining part of the cord and, while he chewed away at Heck’s nut, attached the fake part with surgical glue, stuck it back in and, not bothering with stitches, stapled the incicion shut.

Will wondered aloud…”Any one told him he’s not gonna have sex maybe forever unless he’s getting fucked. Clean his sperm resevoir every so often with that electric jack off gadget.” He paused and looked at Heck who had passed out. “See ya on stage Stallion.” And walking away, laughed. Later Heck was returned to his cage to recover from the shock. He was given two aspirin for pain….

　

Mars, Joey and Harry were transfixed by Bud’s story of his introduction to, well, probably everything, they just hadn’t got there yet. 

“So…you’ve got your dick stuck in a hole….”

“Yeah and some guy, don’t know who, sticks it in his mouth and begins to suck…felt real good but…I was getting big and Josh suddenly wondered if we could get it out. He didn’t want me to come but…that was goind to be the only way. And, wow, never felt that way when I used my hand…when Josh pulled me back I was still shooting. He said I was going to be good at that then took me around, sat me down, told me to open my mouth and see what happens. For sure it didn’t take long but some guy shoved his prick through the hole and I knew what to do so I did it.Wow! Must have done a good job as I could hear him yelling, seemed he liked it…” After he was gone, Josh came back and he had his pants half off, said something about it was gonna be a good trip. Only thing was to try my tail but that we could do in his truck. He had a bed and tv and just like a little motel. But that night we stayed at a motel he knew about, had a hammock in the room and lots of other neat things. Wow!”

“Does he always talk like Eisenhower was still President?” 

“At least he’s enthusiastic.” The bottle went back and forth only this time Joey took a swallow. Mars noticed he’d teared up so put his arm around him and asked him why?”

“He was so lucky to get a nice man like Josh, when I got off the train, I found a group of bums an….” Mars held him close. :”They raped you, didn’t they.” Joey just nodded his head. Suddenly Oliver Twist was the Artful Dodge and the Artful Dodger was Oliver Twist. 

“So…that night. In the motel. Uh, anything new happen?”

“Yeah, I got my cherry popped. Three times. It was great and it meant a lot to me not to be a virgin! Josh was pleased and said we’d stop at a buddy’s of his in Toledo and I could start notching my ass….”

“What? This buddy in Cleveland…”

” Toledo. Here, I’ll show you” .. and pushed down his long johns displaying a gun tattoo on his ass with notches in the barrel. “Every time I screw some new guy, Josh said to have a tat guy notch my barrel and when that was full, get another gun facing it on the other side…”

“I don’t think a gun will get it, might want to consider a long nose rifle…Okay. The motel.”

“Yeah, Josh was getting tired, he’d been driving since we left the cock hot spot so he said maybe we’d just relax, feel each other, get hot, hard and see what he felt like doing. Only question, and I was all for taking it in my ass again, was did I have to notch the gun or just when some new guy fucked me….?”

Mars looked at Harry, at Joey, “I got nothing, you guys…?”

“So the next morning before coffee, I sucked him off, he said he drove better if he’d lowered his oil level, then, after breakfast, he fucked me real good and hard-I was sure glad I’d been told to get bulked up, my buns are almost as hard as my cock at times…-then we got in the truck and headed West. Stopped in Toledo, told you about that, and the guy wouldn’t take money for the tat…”

“He just fucked you, right?”

Bud looked puzzled. “Right how’d you know?” Mars just waved him off. “He had some deliveries and pick up so we headed up to Minneapolis then down to Tulsa, he said he had a couple of brothers there he wanted me to meet. Matter of fact, he needed to back track and see some other family so he left me with them. Neat guys! Had their own gym, really worked me over, even gave me a couple of the shots Josh had, said they’d make me bigger. Wouldn’t take anything for the food, lodging and the use of the gym…..”

“….So they just did all kinds of sexy things with you…don’t ask how I know…Bud, are you sure you went to even a little college? graduate from High School? I’m just thinking out loud here but..you ever had a gang bang…yet?” 

Bud looked puzzled. Unsure but he added to the conversation that before they left Tulsa, some inkslinger added five more notches to his gun. Which explained, if not who, how almost the whole barrel was carved on.

　

A nice lady walked into Bergdorf Goodman and explained to the clerk that she was to be married and she needed…the nice lady wasn’t so nice and referred her to a store in Brooklyn where she might find things she could afford. 

In tears, from a telephone they’d grudgingly let her use, she called Jerry and just said she needed to borrow the plane or….He told her to get it to her was a waste of time, go to American Airlines and buy a First Class ticket wherever she needed to go; She said it was a business expense and they’d write it off.

At ten the next morning when the doors open, she walked into Neiman Marcus in downtown Dallas and almost immediately felt at home. A truly nice lady in a bun that seemed to permanently drip blond hair, glasses and a big smile came to her. “Hey, honey, welcome to Neimans, what’s on your mind this great state of Texas morning?”

Drawing in a deep breath Marigold explained that she was on her way to Las Vegas, to marry one of the most powerful men there but….and she indicated herself, she thought she needed a do over.

The lady, who’s  name was Jeannie and originally from Tulsa, knew exactly what to do. Gathered some of the other ladies, all of whom were nice if, sometimes a  bit difficult to understand-it was the deep Texas accent-told them about their bride and, well, honey, we’ll git you fixed up real good. Jeannie suggested why not hit the beauty parlor, in New York it would have been a Salon, while she rounded up a few “purties” oh, and did she need a wedding gown? Marigold smiled and dribbled some tears to which six handkerchiefs were offered….As she was helped to the beauty parlor she heard Jeannie say…”Isn’t she just adorable, sweet little thang, we gotta git her done up right,….uh, get a coordinator, get a private room and, honey, get some buckets filled with champagne, that young lady needs a trouseau tea.”

A nice looking young man tapped on her hair dryer. Said his name was Gary Gunn and he was from the jewelry department, wondered if she needed an engagement ring or…..Not only that, she needed two wedding rings as well as an engagement ring for a….she hesitated….a stallion. Bright as a Texas dawn, Gary pulled up a manicure station, laid some leather trays on it, uncovered them, asked her if she saw anything she liked? Oh, and maybe she could replace the Timex….? Said he’d find some things for her guy…did she think 20 kt gold or platinum for him? Plain or with some dcoration but, hell, honey, sorry ma’am, I’ll just bring a lot of stuff and you can pick it out.

Jeannie came back, raised the dryer and said she knew people didn’t wear ’em much any more but since she was going to Vegas, how about a fur coat? It bein’ Winter and all plus they were on special. Marigold didn’t know whether she was crying because she was in love? or getting married-she’d tell Jerry they were once she go there-or just because all these nice people seemed so genuinely pleased for her. Hell, honey, as Jeannie said, I didn’t tell my X we was divorced until I brought my second husband home…

　

Somehow liquor wasn’t doing it, what Bud was telling them was a long porn story tho he was the only one who didn’t seem to get it, he was just happy to be with these nice men, who all but stripped him, put new clothes on him and gave him a drink. (Not a first, Josh had tried plying him with beer only to find that made him throw up where as Bourbon, neat, went down just fine. Plus there was no reason to get him drunk, whatever he, or whomever they were with, suggested was fine with him;) He viewed it as all sorts of learning experiences…the double fuck in Tucumcari, swallowing two cocks at once-an Indian Reservation in South Dakota-being used for pain-El Paso with the boys from across the border but with special instructions not to leave too many marks…Bud smiled or screamed or loved every second, every inch, every../well he just loved it all. It came to Joey to ask a question nobody had thought about…

“When did you leave New York….?”

“Uh, right after the Fourth of July…”

Mars took up the next one. “,…and you’ve been with this Josh person all the time?”

“Naw, his dick got broke and he handed me over to Larry in Billings. That’s in Montana.”

They all seemed to know that. “So….you got left with Larry. In Billing and Josh?”

“Oh, when his pecker got better he collected me in Topeka…that’s the state…”

“We kinda know it’s the Capitol…” Bud looked surprized. All this was new information to him and as open and, amazingly, still innocent as he had stayed, felt the necessity to tell people what he knew. “So….what happened to Josh? Where’d he finally dump..leave you?”
“At your front door, said if you didn’t want me I was to call this number and he’d take me back. Said he knew some guys up the road to Reno who’d….”

“Give….Me….That….Number. I think your knight of the road needs to make some more friends…guys?”

“I’ll move my van…” Even Joey was dumb struck, he at least knew he’d been used badly at least for a while and Mars….? Tho his middle name wasn’t ‘Sin’ it easily could be. But Josh iced the cake. They’d all been used badly, some very badly, but months of taking this innocent of the Western World and not only fucking the bejezuz out of him, but renting him out…..Nope, not in their world. If you were a working boy, that was one thing but to tell this kid for a few bucks and his tail he’d give you a ride to Vegas? No. 

“Joey, I want you to go into my closet and dress him up, you know, ready for action….” Joey smiled and started to another closet door, telling Bud to strip. Then everyone stopped….Bud was hung like the proverbial horse with big, meaty low hangers that he was lucky he didn’t squash with his knees. Harry dropped a glsss, Mars dropped his jaw and Joey just flat sat on the floor. 

“Well….that answers a lot of questions… A   Lot. Son, when you came in my door…how long, and I’m guessing here, had you been wearing those baggy drawers?”

“Uh, Josh had me take off my regular jeans…”

“The ones with buttons instead of a zipper or you just pull on? And was there a shirt, maybe real low cut with no sleeves?” 

“How’d you…?”

“Harry, you want to take that one? I think I’ve answered enough questions…” Mars left the room holding a piece of paper so tightly it could have spontaneously combusted. Certainly Mars could have. In his world, he got to call all the shots from innocence to whatever, he didn’t take used goods and he fucking hated men who were predators of young, toothsome man flesh…although in Bud, it was hard, no, impossible to imagine anyone dumb enough to have been through all this and, so it seemed, had a good time. In corner of his big living room, he put on a sound track, one of many he kept for situations such as this, so it seemed as if there was traffic in the back ground then slowly and with anger punched in a number then waited while it rang.

“Hey, kid, he didn’t want ya? Figgered as much. I’ll swing by and pick you up, Okay?”

In his best tear stained voice he said that he was tied up in the front hall and just walk in….Mars hung up and prepared the front hall, just not with Bud. Oh, jesus he wished Sam were here, he’d love the fuck out of this one.

To Be Continued

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I’ve always thought of myself as an ethical person. The kind who has certain standards in life and refuses to compromise those standards, regardless of the situation. Choices were simple. It was black or white. Right or wrong. Good or bad.

At least . . . I used to think of myself that way.

But as I’ve gotten older, I just don’t really know. I’ve thought long and hard about my life and today things don’t seem as simple to me anymore.

Especially since the day Jesse came into my life. That was over twenty years ago.

And to this day, my life has never been the same.

###

In 1992, I bought my first house. It was large and spacious and even though others in the neighborhood might be nicer, it was all mine and I was damn proud of it! It had a large back yard, with a pool, a deck with a hot tub, and even a little cabana, with a room for people to change their clothes.

A couple of weeks after I had settled in, I decided to throw a house warming party for my friends. Several of them had been bugging me about wanting to come over and I decided to let everybody come at one time, see the house, and just relax with a day-long gathering of barbecue, some volleyball and swimming, and plenty of booze.

The Saturday of the party was beautiful. Texas weather is normally either hot or damn hot but not on this day. The sky was sunny but there was low humidity and the temperature was a cool 78 degrees. My friends started arriving about 9 in the morning and by 11, there were more than 50 people either splashing in the pool, relaxing in the hot tub, playing volleyball, or just kicking back and visiting. I wandered around chatting with my friends, making sure there was plenty of food and drinks, and just generally playing the good host.

I had set up an area for volleyball on the far side of the back yard and I walked over to see if anyone was still playing. There was evidently a hot game in progress as several people were watching the teams and cheering. I stopped on the sideline to watch for a few minutes, trying to figure out who was on each team. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the players hit the ball.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, with my head spinning, and people standing around me.

“Man are you alright?”

I didn’t answer as my senses were still swimming and I heard another voice say, “Damn, Jesse, don’t you know how to spike a ball over the net?” There was some laughter and the other voice spoke again.

“Shut up, Ricky. I didn’t mean to hit him.”

I continued to lie there a minute with my eyes closed. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder and the voice spoke again.

“Hey . . . are you okay?”

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at the person who had spoken. He had one of the most handsome faces I had ever seen and it took me a moment to reply.

“Yeah . . . I’m okay . . . what happened?”

The handsome face broke into a smile and laughed sheepishly. “I tried to spike the ball over the net and hit it wrong. It popped you on the side of the head. I’m really sorry, man. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I shook my head lightly and began to get up. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Y’all go on and play.” I stood up and began to slowly walk towards the house. My head was still buzzing some and I walked towards the portable bar to get a drink and clear my head. As I reached the bar, I poured a glass of wine, took a sip, and closed my eyes.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Startled, I opened my eyes and turned around. The handsome face I had seen moments ago was smiling at me again.

“Nah man . . . I’m fine.” I gave a lopsided grin and said, “My head is still buzzing but I think this wine will clear that up. Thanks though.” I paused, looking him over carefully.

“You want a drink?”

He hesitated a moment, and then said, “Sure. A Bud Light, if you have one.”

I opened the can of beer, gave it to him, and continued to hold out my hand.

“My name’s Noah. Noah Hudson. What’s yours?”

Smiling, he shook my hand and said, “Aw shit, man, I’m sorry! I’m Jesse. Jesse Saravillo. I came here with Ricky and Anna.”

“Ohhh, okay. That makes sense. I didn’t think I had met you before.” As he took a sip of his beer, I asked somewhat hesitantly, “How old are you?”

Jesse grinned and said, “How old do you think I am?”

I paused a minute and thought as I looked at him. Early to mid-twenties wouldn’t be far off the mark.  “Ohhhhhhhh . . . 25?”

Jesse laughed. “Nah, man, I’m 18!”

I was in shock as he laughed. This boy looked anything but 18. He was 5’11”, about 175 pounds, and muscular. I don’t mean a bodybuilding physique but the kind that comes from an active lifestyle. Natural, beautiful muscles that rippled in his chest and arms. He had the kind of shape that I think is so sexy. Obvious but not overwhelming. Add to that a head of black hair, brown eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes, full kissable lips, and a very light olive skin that made him stand out around others. In slang terms, he’s what you would call a “guero”. Light skinned but with dark Latin features. It’s typical when children have parents with different racial backgrounds and I’ve always thought people with mixed racial features were gorgeous.

“Aw, you’re bullshitting me, man!”

“Nah, Noah, I’m serious! Check out my driver’s license.”

He showed me his license and, sure enough, it proclaimed him to be a Jesus Antonio Saravillo, born 18 years ago in 1974.

I handed his license back to him, grinned and said, “Jesus, huh? Like the lord? Should I be on my knees before you right now?”

Jesse laughed and said, “Yeah, but I go by Jesse.” He paused a moment. Then, with a mischievous grin, added, “And you don’t have to get on your knees but I’m sure you’d like it if you did!”

Even as I laughed at him, I was sort of surprised. That type of comment sounded like one I’d make if I was trying to hit on another guy. Of course, I’m sure Jesse didn’t mean for it to come across that way. I kept laughing and said, “I’ll bet!” as I turned back to watch my other guests.

We kept standing there looking at people and I started feeling a little nervous. I mean, here I was, queer as hell, standing by one of the best looking guys at the party, who was little more than a grown teenager. And getting turned on by him. I’d always had strong feelings about not messing around with teenagers, even if they were of legal age. Yet here I was, becoming attracted to one who looked and acted anything but a teenager. I kept sipping my wine and told myself it was normal to get excited about a hot, good looking young man.

But, deep in my heart, I knew that I was also feeling something about him that went beyond just the physical. True, he was a sexy fucker. But Jesse had an innate sweetness about him. An innocence that you rarely saw in people, much less in guys. It was terribly attractive to me.

Jesse tilted his beer up and finished it. “Well, I guess I’m gonna go jump in the pool. You’re sure you’re okay?”

I smiled at him and said, “I’m fine, Jesse. You go have fun.”

Jesse smiled and began walking towards the pool. “Later, Noah.”

As he walked away, I couldn’t help but stare. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and off-white cotton shorts. They were loose fitting but they still hugged and emphasized his body. His muscular ass filled out the back of his shorts and those beautiful cheeks moved sensuously as he walked. You could even see the outlines of the jockstrap he was wearing as the material pressed against his firm butt. I took a deep breath, sighed, and went inside the house to get more food for my guests.

Thirty minutes later, I went out to the pool to make sure everything was okay. Actually, I knew I was going to see if Jesse was still there but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. As I walked up to the pool, I saw him lying on a towel on the ground and two girls sitting on each side of him. He was lying on his back, propped up on his elbows and was talking to them. As I walked up, he turned, saw me, and smiled.

“Hey, Noah! What’s up?”

I nodded and smiled at him and he turned back to continue talking with the girls.

I stood mesmerized by the sight before me. Evidently, Jesse had just gotten out of the pool as his body was still wet. The water clung to him and from time to time, you could see drops run down his smooth skin. His large pec muscles were flexed and his nipples jutted out so far, you just wanted to suck them off his body. His ab muscles were also taut and you could see just a slight trail of dark hair start at his navel and run downwards.

I was surprised to see that Jesse had worn his shorts in the pool. The effect was stunning. The thin material clung tightly to his skin and was so clear you could see his jockstrap distinctly. The wet shorts hugged his packed crotch and you could clearly see the outline of his cock and balls. My gaze continued down his muscular legs and then turned to look at the girls next to him.

Even though they were talking to him, they were clearly checking out his body. While Jesse talked to one girl, the other one was looking at his crotch. When he turned to talk to her, she jerked her head back towards his face and I saw the other one begin to look at his crotch. Suddenly, she looked over at me and saw that I caught her looking at Jesse’s body. She grimaced and looked back at Jesse as he spoke to the other girl.

“. . . and I swear to god that if coach had let me run in that series of plays, I would have gotten the first down and we could have kept going!”

“I know, Jesse! I’ll bet you’re the best player on the team and he needs to let you run more.”

I laughed to myself when she said this. She was the ex-girlfriend of a friend of mine and so wrapped up in herself, she probably didn’t even know how to spell football. Plus, she was 27 and I figured she ought to not be messing with a kid his age, even though he probably would have loved to fuck around with her. I decided to put a stop to her antics and called out to him.

“Jesse, would you do me a favor?  I need some help restocking the beer.”

Jesse looked at me, grinned, and said, “Sure, Noah. Right now?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind breaking away a few minutes.”

Jesse looked back at the girls and said, “I’ll be back in a little bit.  Will you still be here?”

“Sure, Jesse!” they said coyly. “Hurry back!”

I laughed when they said that and began walking towards the house. I was sure they would stay there till hell froze over if they had a chance to taste what they saw packed so clearly in his shorts.

Jesse caught up with me and asked, “You feeling better now, Noah?”

“Yeah, man. Don’t worry anymore about that. I’m fine.”

As we walked across the lawn, I stopped to pick up a beer can and Jesse walked on ahead of me. As I continued walking, I was treated to an even better sight of this sexy young stud. The wet shorts stuck tight to his ass and showed every inch of his firm cheeks. The succulent half-moons swayed as he walked and the wet material was wedged slightly between them, defining each cheek clearly. Other than the lines of his jockstrap, there were no other marks on the solid muscle. It almost looked as if he wasn’t wearing anything and my own cock began to get hard. I noticed that as Jesse passed by others, they turned their heads to watch him. And the tight, hot ass that those wet shorts so clearly displayed.

I shook my head to clear my lustful thoughts and caught up with Jesse. We went inside, got the beer, and began restocking the bar. After we finished, I gathered the boxes and told Jesse, “Thanks, man. You can go on back to the pool now.” I gave him a mischievous grin and said, “But be careful, because those babes are ready to tear you up!” I started laughing, looked over at Jesse, and was surprised to see the serious look on his face.

“Tear me up?”

“Yeah,” I said still laughing. “Man, they were practically salivating over you out there!”

“You mean . . . you think they’re interested in me?”

I laughed at Jesse’s innocence. “Of course they’re interested in you! They were checking out your body big time!”

Jesse laughed slightly and shook his head. “I don’t know why. There are lots of guys here with better bodies than mine.”

Given how nice his muscled physique was, I was surprised at his humility. I didn’t reply and we walked silently towards the pool.

“Noah . . .”

“Yeah?”

Jesse hesitated and then said, “Can we talk for a minute?”

I clapped him on the shoulder, laughed and said, “I thought we were talking!”

Jesse stopped. “Nah . . . I mean privately. Inside the house.”

I started to make another light comment but, after seeing the look on Jesse’s face, thought better of it. “Sure, Jesse.  Is something wrong?”

“I’d just like to talk to you for a minute.”

Little caution bells began to go off in my head. But I ignored them and said, “Sure. Come on.” We turned around and headed towards the house.

###

As we walked inside, I ushered Jesse into my den. It was a large room, fairly private, and I figured we wouldn’t be interrupted by anyone wandering around the house. I motioned Jesse to sit on the couch and I sat forward in the recliner next to it.

“Okay. What’s up?”

Jesse lifted his head and looked at me carefully.

“I know I just met you today but you seem to be a really nice guy. I’ve heard people here speak very highly of you and even my friend Ricky said you were cool. He said you were easy to talk to and . . . I need some advice.”

He hesitated a moment and said, “Would you mind if I asked you something? Something personal?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I know you’re gay.”

I looked at Jesse a moment with a surprised look on my face. “That’s your question?”

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way. What I meant is that Ricky told me that you’re gay. . .”

Jesse hesitated.

I raised my eyebrows and urged him on. “Uh huhhhhhhh . . . and?”

Jesse looked down and stuttered, “How . . . how . . . how do you know . . . you know . . . that you are . . . gay?”

“How do I know that I’m gay?” I repeated, not sure what he was asking.

“Yeah. I mean no. I mean . . .”

Jesse hesitated some more and then looked me directly in the eyes. “I mean, how does ANYBODY know if they’re gay?”

As Jesse looked at me, I slowly sat back in the recliner. A multitude of thoughts began to run through my mind.

“Umm . . . well . . . Jesse, that’s not an easy question to answer,” I said hesitantly. “There’s lots of feelings and emotions you have to sort through and one’s sexuality isn’t an open and shut case.” I paused a moment, then said, “Let me ask you this . . . why are you asking?”

Jesse quickly hung his head and put his hands in his lap.

“I don’t know, Noah. I’m so confused. I like girls. But . . . I have these . . . these . . . feelings sometimes.” Jesse stopped. I waited.

“I mean . . . sometimes I’ll meet a guy and I’ll start feeling . . . funny. You know? I mean, I’ll start looking at him and . . . just . . . just . . . want to be around him. And see more . . . do more.” Slowly, Jesse looked up at me. “You know?”

Jesse’s confusion and hesitation were touching and accentuated the sweet and innocent nature I found so charming. I knew though that I needed to choose my words carefully as he was obviously in a very vulnerable state.

“Yeah, man, I know. I can remember when I first started feeling that way. Believe me, I understand what you’re going through. I even remember some of my friends that I was attracted to.” I smiled at him. “It’s especially hard when you feel that way about a friend.”

Jesse turned towards me so that he was facing me.

“Yeah, but I don’t feel that way about any of my friends. It’s usually people I meet.” He was staring at me with a strange, intent look on his face. “You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, Jesse. I’m sure you meet lots of teenage guys at the mall and all the places you and your friends run around. It’s only natural you’d want to do something with them.”

Jesse quickly sat back and slapped the couch with his hand. “NO! I’m not talking about my friends . . . or anyone else my age.” He paused again. Then, staring me directly in the eyes said, “Understand?”

I was startled by the vehemence in his voice and hesitated. “Sure man.  Like I said, I understand.”

Jesse continued to look at me. After an uncomfortable silence, he looked away, shaking his head slowly.

“You just don’t get it, Noah . . .”

I kept quiet a moment as I was totally confused. I was trying to comfort him and for some reason, it wasn’t working. Jesse looked down and I looked away as I tried to think of something to say. I heard Jesse take a deep breath, exhale loudly, and then mutter something under his breath.

I quickly looked at him and said, “What?”

Jesse looked up at me, hesitated a moment, and said “I said I like . . . you.”

Stunned, it took me a minute to register what he had said.

“You like ME?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah.”

The look on my face must have been of pure shock as Jesse broke into a smile and gave a short laugh. “What? Is that so hard to believe? Or are you pissed?”

I looked away from him a moment and said, “No, man, I’m not pissed. I mean I’m . . . flattered.” I looked back at him, hesitated, and then said, “But Jesse, you don’t even know me. I mean, you just met me today.”

Jesse kept smiling that gorgeous smile of his and said, “I know, Noah, but . . . like I said, that’s how I feel. I think you’re good looking and nice and I just have this . . . feeling . . . when I look at you. And when I’m around you.”

I shook my head and stood up.

“Jesse, listen to me. I understand what you’re feeling right now. These feelings are new to you and you feel like you’ve got to act on them or you’ll explode!” I smiled and said, “I am flattered. I mean truly flattered that you think that about me. My god, you’re the best looking guy at this party and many people here would eat you up in a heartbeat!”

Jesse looked at me silently and I walked across the room. As I reached the other side, I turned and faced him.

“But . . . I’m much older than you and you don’t need to get involved with me. All of this is too new to you and you don’t need to get involved with someone just because you think you like them.” I paused.

“And . . .”  I hesitated.

Jesse noticed my hesitation. “And?”

I continued to pause and then said, “I’d feel guilty. I mean, I’ve seen so many older men take advantage of younger guys, like you, who are dealing with these feelings and I don’t think it is right.  You need a friend right now who can help you, Jesse.” I paused again. “Not a boyfriend.”

Jesse continued to look at me quietly and seemed to be thinking over what I said. Suddenly, he stood up.

“Okay, Noah, I understand. I won’t bother you anymore.” He turned around and walked quickly towards the door.

As Jesse started leaving, I said, “Wait, Jesse! Don’t get mad! I just think . . .” but it was too late.  Jesse was out the door and gone.

Shit.

I lowered my head and rubbed my face with both hands. I didn’t want him to be angry with me but I knew what I told him was right.

Deep down though, as I continued to think about him, I began to admit the truth. That I really DID want Jesse.

True, I wanted that beautiful, hot, sexy, muscle body but it was more than just that. I wanted to experience being with someone again, whose sweetness and innocence hadn’t been crushed out of them by years of bar-hopping, one-night stands, and broken promises. I wanted to caress and hold someone again, who really wanted to be with me.

In short, I wanted to love someone again, who actually could love and give it in return.

The question though was whether Jesse was that person.

I slowly walked out of the den and started for the kitchen. The party had become an afterthought after my session with Jesse and I knew people were probably wondering where I was. As I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, I stopped.

A feeling of sadness engulfed me. A feeling that I was letting life pass me by as it rushed on with excitement and wonder.

I sighed quietly and started to move forward, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around . . . and there he was. The quiet smile. The full lips. The dark brown eyes that were so intense, I felt as if I was drowning in them.

“I’m sorry, Noah.” He paused.

“I thought about what you said and I really do understand. I don’t want you to be mad at me and I don’t want to be mad at you.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “If nothing more, we can at least be friends.”

“Can’t we?”

Such goodness . . . such sweetness . . . such understanding.

I continued to stare into his eyes and hardly breathed. Slowly, I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I felt out lips touch gently as I kissed him. A soft kiss that felt wonderful on his warm, full lips. I kissed him again and felt him respond gently but urgently. I put my hands on the side of his face and pulled him towards me, kissing him intensely. His hands were on my shoulders, pulling me towards him as we began to let the passion that we both felt take hold.

Suddenly, I broke off and pulled back. Jesse was breathing heavily. He looked at me curiously, smiled slightly, and said “What is it?”

I smiled back at him and put my finger on my lips to tell him to be quiet. I grabbed his hand and walked back down the hallway, pulling him after me. We walked to my bedroom, where I pulled him inside and closed the door. Motioning him to stand still, I reached for my cell and called my friend, Ricky.

“Ricky . . . hey dude, I’m going to the store to pick up some more stuff. Jesse’s going with me. Can you handle my host duties while I’m gone?” I grinned at Jesse as Ricky replied.

“Yeah, I need to restock the booze and food. Oh, and let the folks know I’ll be back in a while and for everyone to keep having fun. Okay?”

Jesse started grinning as well as the conversation ended.

“Thanks, man. I’ll be back soon.”

I ended the call, laid my phone on the bedroom table, and grinning mischievously said, “I think that’ll keep anyone from looking for us for a bit. I mean, after all . . . it is MY party!”

As I looked at the beautiful, sexy Latino in front of me, the old feelings of guilt began to come to me again, and Jesse must have noticed the change on my face.

“What’s the matter?”

I didn’t answer and looked down at the floor.

“Noah . . . what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.  Just . . . give me a minute.”

The room was quiet and the seconds ticked by as I struggled with my emotions.

I knew that what I wanted to do was wrong. I had managed to stay out of this type of situation in the past. Yet here I was again and couldn’t seem to stop myself this time.

Why, I wondered. What was different about this time? This guy?

“We don’t have to do this.”

I was startled by the voice and looked up quickly at Jesse.

“What?”

The concern was evident in his face as he spoke.

“I said we don’t have to do this if you’re going to feel this way. I don’t want our being together to make you feel guilty or ashamed or . . . just anything bad.”

Jesse smiled at me and reached out his hand to touch my cheek. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve met other guys who were always trying to get in my pants. But you . . . you’re . . . different. I mean, here I am practically throwing myself at you and instead of trying to mess with me, you feel guilty.” He paused.

“I want to be with you, Noah. For you to be . . . special.” He rolled his eyes as if that admission was embarrassing.

“I know this may sound funny to you but . . . I feel . . . good with you. So, you shouldn’t feel guilty or ashamed. If being with me causes you to feel that, then we don’t need to do this. Like I said . . . we can just be good friends.”

He tenderly caressed my cheek and smiled that warm, full, loving smile of his.

As he spoke, my bad feelings disappeared. I began to feel the love and desire for him that I had felt earlier. Any doubts I may have had were gone.

I decided that if this was wrong, I’d willingly answer for it.

But, I knew that if I didn’t grab him now . . . with all the good and the bad that entailed . . . I might never again find a man so sexy, so sweet, and so loving, who would so willingly give of himself.

I walked over and took Jesse in my arms, kissing him fully. The passion that we felt earlier in the hallway began to build again. I knew that this time that it wouldn’t stop.

###

Jesse and I hugged and kissed with so much emotion that my lips began to hurt. I ran my hands all over his body, wanting to feel and know intimately every inch of his chiseled physique. As I pressed my hands to his chest, the feel of his muscles made my desire to have him grow even faster.

I tugged on the sides of his t-shirt, still slightly damp from his dip in the pool, and pulled it up over his head. His firmly sculptured pecs rose like twin plateaus from his smooth chest, the dark brown nipples hard and inviting.

I squatted down and ran my tongue in the deep opening of his navel. Jesse moaned. As I looked up at him, he closed his eyes. His hands were behind my head, pressing my face into his body and I felt him begin to writhe. I reached behind, grabbed the firm cheeks of his ass, and almost came when I felt their size and solid muscle.

As I licked his body, the desire to take him became almost unbearable. I began to lick all over his sides and up the smooth, hairless valley between his thick muscular pecs. I could taste the chlorine from the water on his skin and it became an aphrodisiac to me.

Jesse continued to moan in pleasure and began to run his fingers through my hair. As I ran my tongue between his pecs, I leaned over and took his left nipple in my mouth. It was hard and I took it between my teeth and bit it gently. Jesse groaned and arched his back, offering me more of his huge, muscular chest. I opened my mouth wider and began to nip and lightly bite the firm muscle around the nipple. I kept squeezing his tight ass as I sucked his chest and Jesse continued to moan and thrash in ecstasy.

As I pushed him towards the bed, I felt him tugging at my shirt. I was not ready to bare myself to him yet as I wanted to strip and savor his young, athletic body first. The time would come for him to have me, but I was heady with desire and wanted to devour him first.

As we got near the bed, I pushed Jesse hard and he landed on his back. He smiled up at me as I gazed at his masculine figure, dressed only in shorts and jock. I leaned down at the end of the bed and peeked at him over his feet as he struggled to sit up where he could see me.

“Lay back, Jesse. Close your eyes.”

I didn’t want him to know what I was going to do next.

He smiled, closed his eyes, and laid back. I stood up and looked at Jesse with a heavy lust.

His legs were inviting. Smooth, muscular, and ready to be touched. I leaned over and began to slowly run the tips of my fingers up the sides. I reached his powerful thighs and moved my hands gently to the top of his legs, continuing my journey towards his full crotch.

As I reached the edge of his shorts, I pressed my fingers down firmly on the muscle. My hands slid under the cotton and began to inch downwards to the smooth surface of his inner thigh. As my fingers lightly grazed his hairless skin, I heard Jesse inhale and his body flinched. Suddenly, my fingertips touched the rough material of his jock and I knew I had reached the treasure I wanted so badly.

Jesse’s eyes were still closed and I quietly asked him, “How does that feel?”

His head rolled back and forth gently and he murmured softly.

“Fuck, man.  Don’t stop.”

I smiled quietly to myself as I had no intention of stopping until I had tasted every inch of his gorgeous, sexy body.

I ran my hands up further under his shorts until I had reached the waistband. I turned my palms up, grasped the edge of his shorts, and began to work them down. Jesse felt the movement and lifted his hips as I eased the cotton shorts down his legs. I pulled the shorts completely off and looked at Jesse lying there in his jockstrap, his swollen cock outlined in the stretched fabric.

As I ran my hands over his cock, Jesse began thrash again and pushed down hard on my hands. I continued rubbing and kneading his cock and the swollen jock seemed to get even bigger. I pushed his hands away, grabbed the top of his jockstrap, and pulled it down. Jesse again lifted his hips so I could get the strap from under the solid muscles of his ass. I slide it down his legs and off. His totally nude body now ready for me.

The sight of Jesse’s body was exquisite, and I could see why his jock was so packed. His cock was probably 6 inches, very thick and, to my surprise, cut. The head was dark pink while his shaft was the same olive color of his skin and smooth. It rose straight up from a patch of black pubes that accented the fullness of his sex and throbbed in anticipation of the fun to come.

I pulled Jesse’s legs apart and began to lick his hairless balls. The smell of chlorine and his sweat was intoxicating. I licked and sucked his balls like a man possessed. Jesse was groaning and twisting his legs and hips as I attacked his sensitive nuts and began to lick up the sides of his cock.

The feeling was driving Jesse wild and his body started bucking hard. I had to hold on to his legs to keep his crotch in front of me. I moved to the tip of his cock, which was wet with his seeping juice. I began tonguing and licking the head, sucking up his nectar, which sent greater spasms through him. After licking his cockhead clean of his sweet juice, I opened up and took his cock completely in my mouth.

Jesse moaned loudly, as he felt his thick cock glide into my wet mouth, my lips fastened tightly around it, as I started sucking.

“Oh GOD . . . oh FUCK . . . FUCK!”

Jesse was slapping the bed with his arms and trying to thrust his cock farther in my mouth and down into my throat.

I pulled up on his shaft, tightening my lips more on the sensitive cock, and then sucked it back in as I went down on him.

Over and over I sucked his cock in and ran my tongue on the head as it retreated. Jesse’s cock was full in my mouth but was the perfect size to suck on. I sucked and licked and tongued and played with his cock as if it was the last cock I’d ever blow. Jesse had thrown his arms over his head and was constantly thrusting his cock.

As I continued sucking Jesse’s cock, I touched his asshole with my fingertip. His crack was like most of his body. Hairless and smooth. And it was now slick with sweat. His tight little hole was so hot, with only a few wisps of hair surrounding it.

I continued to rub my fingertip over the sweaty opening, pushing a little at a time. As I felt it loosen up, I began to push my middle finger against it. My finger was so wet with his sweat, that it went in with little resistance and I began to gently finger his ass. I could feel the inner muscle of his ass squeeze tight on my finger, telling me that Jesse had probably never had anything inside it before. The thought of fucking his tight, muscular virgin ass made me even hornier than before.

Jesse’s body lurched and he began bucking and thrashing more wildly at the combination of his ass being fingered and his cock being sucked.

“Shit! . . . oh SHIT! . . . GOD!”

I felt Jesse’s cock begin to harden in my mouth and knew he was only seconds away from dropping a load in my mouth. I sucked harder and tried to thrust my finger in farther, to push him over the edge, and capture that creamy juice that I knew was working its way up his swollen meat.

Suddenly, Jesse screamed and his hips came up off the bed. His cock went rigid and the head expanded as I felt a burst of warm liquid hit the back of my throat. Jesse’s whole body was hard and he continued to thrust his cock in my mouth as his powerful orgasm continued. Blast after blast of hot cum filled my mouth and I kept sucking the stiff shaft and thrust my finger in his ass as far as it would go.

Slowly, Jesse’s thrusts abated and his body began to relax. His cock was still hard but he had quit thrashing as exhaustion began to set it. I pulled off of his cock and looked at him. His eyes were still closed, his hair clung to his forehead, and his body was drenched in sweat.

As I continued to look at him, he slowly opened his eyes. A slight grin appeared on his face and he licked his lips.

“Man . . . Noah . . .”

I sat there and smiled at him. “Like that?” I teased.

Jesse closed his eyes again. “Man . . . shit . . . that was . . . that was just . . . too much . . .”

I started laughing and teased him again. “Too much? A little ole blow job like that? I thought an 18 year old could handle getting his dick sucked!”

Jesse continued to smile as he lay there. After a few moments, he opened his eyes again and looked at me.

“I don’t know about you but . . . shit . . . that felt great!” He continued to look at me sitting next to him when, all of a sudden, a frown crossed his face.

“Aw hell!”

“What?” I asked, puzzled as to what was wrong.

“What about you, Noah? I mean . . . I want to do you too.”

“DO me?” I laughed. “That sounds like you want to kill me!”

An embarrassed look came across Jesse’s face and he said, “No, Noah! I meant . . . that I wanted to . . . you know . . .” Uncomfortable, he looked down.

“Yeah . . . DO me!” I said as I laughed again. Jesse still looked embarrassed and I reached out and lifted his face up.

“You really want to make me feel good, Jesse?”

“Yeah. You know I do.”

“Okay. Then fuck me. That will make me feel good.”

A skeptical look crossed Jesse’s face.

Confused, I asked, “You don’t want to?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just that . . . that . . . I’ve never . . . fucked a guy before.”

I grinned as I looked into his innocent face and said, “Okay. Have you ever BEEN fucked by a guy before?”

Jesse’s face reddened slightly. “No.”

I laughed. “Well okay. Have you ever fucked a girl before?”

“Well, sure.”

“Well, it’s just like fucking a girl. But, a lot more fun! Just make sure you use lots of lube because my ass doesn’t get as slick as a pussy does. And then it’s not much fun for me!” I pointed over to the bathroom.

“The lube and condoms are in the bathroom, in the chest, on the bottom shelf.”

As Jesse went to get them, I took off my clothes and lay back on the bed. At 38, I knew my body didn’t look anything like Jesse’s and I hoped he wouldn’t be turned off.

He came back in, fiddling with the lube and condom wrapper as he approached the bed. He looked at me and stopped in mid-motion.

“Oh, FUCK!”

I was startled by his reaction and began blushing.

“What?”

Jesse paused a moment and continued looking at me.

“What?” I asked more insistently.

“It’s just that . . . you’ve got a nice body! Hairy! I like that! I wish I had as much hair as you did.”

Relieved, I laughed and said, “Nah, I like your body just the way it is. But, I’m glad you like this one. It’s the only one I’ve got!”

Jesse smiled at me, then pulled my legs apart and knelt between them. I thought I’d have to tell him what to do but evidently the times he had fucked women gave him some idea of what to do. He was stroking his cock and it got hard again quickly. He rolled the condom on and then ran some lube over it. As he looked at me, I pulled my legs up and towards my chest, giving him his first look at my ass.

He poured the lube in my crack, rubbed it all over, and even stuck a finger in my ass and lubed it up as well. After a few moments of oiling me up, he set the bottle down, started stroking his dick again, and looked at me with a smile.

The site of this sexy, masculine Latino kneeling over me with his beautiful face, muscular chest, and big cock was more than I could take.

“C’mon, man. I’m ready. Fuck me!”

Jesse leaned over me, guiding his cock towards my ass. I grabbed it, pulled it to the opening, and held it there, while he positioned himself. He put his arms on both sides of my chest and propped himself up, the muscles bulging as they held his weight. I spread my legs farther and he moved forward, pushing his cock into my slick ass. As he began to push in, I moved my hands to his firm ass, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he pushed forward with his cock.

Even though I liked to fuck, I also enjoyed being fucked. However, it had been some time since I’d had a cock in my ass. Surprisingly, Jesse’s cock penetrated me quickly and was all the way in before he knew it. I gasped slightly, and I could feel his pubes rubbing against my ass.

The feeling of his full, thick cock inside me was incredible! As his ass flexed, I ran my hands up his back and felt the taut muscles of his back, sides, and shoulders. Knowing that I had a hot, muscular stud with a huge cock inside me heightened my pleasure, and I moaned as he fucked me.

Jesse waited a moment when he first entered me. But, sensing no resistance on my part, he slowly pulled back out. He slid back in but was careful not to totally pull himself out of my ass. As his fucking began, I put my hands back on his ass and guided him. As he pulled back, I guided his hips to make his cock come as far out as it could. As he pushed back in, I squeezed and pulled his muscular cheeks to bring him in as far as he could come. After a couple of times, he understood what I was trying to do and began to fuck me with deep, full strokes.

As Jesse fucked me, I ran my hands over his ass, his back . . . any part of his body I could touch. His ample cock filled me completely and constantly banged my prostate as he fucked me harder and deeper.

I closed my eyes and moaned as I thought about the virile young man who was fucking me so fully. He was obviously enjoying it too as he moaned and breathed heavily as he fucked.

As the heat of our coupling increased, I began to open myself wider to Jesse’s cock and push my ass back at him as he entered me over and over. I ran my hands down his muscular arms and chest and began to pinch his nipples. He groaned more as I pinched his nipples and started to thrust faster into me. I pulled him down on me and raised my hips so he could pull himself closer. As he did so, I reached up and pulled his face to mine, kissing those full lips and sticking my tongue in his mouth to touch his.

Jesse opened his mouth and began to suck my tongue into his mouth as he kissed me and I felt like he was totally consuming me . . . his cock in my ass . . . his chest on my chest . . . his mouth sucking my tongue.

Jesse began to fuck faster and harder and I knew he was close to giving me his load. I opened myself totally and thrust my ass on his cock even harder.

Pulled him to me even closer.

Kissed his lips more passionately.

I was groaning loudly and knew from the tremor in my balls that I was about to shoot as well.

Jesse’s breathing got faster and he was making a whimpering noise. Suddenly, his nuts gave up and he blasted loose a stream of cum deep inside me.

Even though he was wearing a condom, I could feel the head of his cock expand as he came over and over. He was shoving his cock in my ass harder as he shot, and finally thrust it in a final time and held it.

I was screaming and pulling him into me as hard as I could, when my cock erupted and shot my jizz all over us. It seemed, for a moment, that our two bodies were one solid mass of thrashing muscle, flailing orgasms and frenzied sound.

As our climaxes waned, our bodies began to relax.

Jesse continued to lay on top of me and I ran my hands up and down his broad back. Slowly, he rolled off and lay on his back next to me. We were both drenched with sweat, covered in cum, and totally spent. Eventually, I looked over at him and, hearing my movement, he turned and looked at me.

We smiled weakly at each other and I reached over to hold him. I put my head on his chest and felt his arm reach over to hold me. The feel of him holding me was comforting and I snuggled closer to him, closed my eyes, and rested. Secure in the arms of a sexy, loving, giving man.

###

That was 26 years ago and, Jesse and I have been together now for the last 24 years. The two years before he moved in were hard on us, as Jesse finished school and started at the local college. We didn’t want to give his parents or anyone else reason to create problems. So, we saw each other only at times that he could get away without getting caught.

When he turned 20, I offered to “rent” him a room and we’ve been together ever since.

During the early years, I’m sure there were some who suspected a more intimate relationship between us at the time. We constantly walked that tightrope in public between being friends and being “more” than friends. I didn’t like it but recognized the necessity of having to do it then.

Today though is a different story.

As I said at the beginning, my life has never been the same since Jesse came into it. I do wonder from time to time where I would be today if I had not taken the chance with him. After all, the odds were against us.

Our ages. Financial pressures. Finding time to be together. Being in the closet with some and out of the closet with others.

But then I close my eyes and remember.

Remember the caring. The giving. And the passion that we’ve shared all these years.

And when I remember all those things, I realize that knowing where I would have been without Jesse was not important.

It’s living my life with him every day that is.

But it’s ironic though, that everyone seems to have to learn that simple lesson over and over again.

I’m just thankful that I have Jesse in my life to teach it to me.

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