Author: admin

  • Trick or Treat a Halloween Surprise

    With
    the October awards banquet behind us where Erin picked up her award I drove her
    home. Before we kissed good-night I told her how much I enjoyed the evening
    with her and my interest for her was fast becoming more romantic. I suggested
    that we let our relationship move forward to the next level. As the
    sophisticated yet mysterious redhead began walking toward her house she turned
    her head smiling that knowing seductive smile before nodding her head in
    agreement. At the door she turned one last time giving me a clever come-hither
    look before stepping inside.

    I
    stood by my car in the chill of the evening where I waited for her to get
    inside. She turned off the decorative lighting and locked the entry door: another
    missed opportunity. Once I knew her to be safe I got into my car and sped off
    for the short drive towards my condominium. Throughout the drive home the luscious
    redhead dominated my thoughts. As usual the fashionable redhead captured the
    center of attention at the Halloween themed awards banquet that Friday night,
    at least for the men attending. Erin’s acceptance speech drew a standing
    ovation. How splendid her tall lithe body filled the stylish dark pearl
    off-the-shoulder short sleeve sequin mesh evening gown. As if she’d been molded
    into it. 

    The
    stunning evening attire Erin wore including block heel glitter sandals, matching
    silver necklace and earrings couldn’t have been more perfect; furthermore, her
    hair, nails, makeup and sparkling silver sequin clutch tied the beautiful
    ensemble together. I couldn’t get the vixen’s seductive scent out of my head.
    The mysterious fragrance of her perfume projected a fresh sensuous aroma that saturated
    the car’s interior as I drove home.

    After
    parking my car I sat there for a few moments savoring the evening’s memories as
    her fragrance lingered, realizing I missed my cue to follow her inside. As I
    exited the car I looked down and noticed my cock bulging. When my hand
    attempted to push it down the leg of my solid black slim-fit trousers I detected
    a wet spot on my crotch area. With an extraordinary amount of precum evident I
    anticipated a stain on the expensive trousers. An urgent desire swept over me
    to get into my condo, undress and get into the shower to take care of
    business.   

    That evening, more so
    than any previous rendezvous, Erin lit a fire in my loins, transgressing the
    limits of our somewhat platonic relationship. Before letting her out of the
    car, while making out, her finger, either by accident or intent, touched my nipple.
    The flirtatious touch sent a treat of shivers through my body. Once Erin
    discovered that my nipples were sensitive her finger continued to skillfully toy
    with them while we made out.

    Of late, my romantic
    interest in Erin began to blossom more and more. For me, she possessed all the
    qualities I sought in a long-term partner: intellectual, emotional, physical properties
    and sophistication to makeup the perfect woman. Blessed with intelligence,
    poise and bearing she also demonstrated great communication skills. 

    Erin possessed speaking
    skills that influenced and inspired others. Endowed with those alluring Amber
    Heard facial characteristics, fair skin, long red hair and sparkling emerald
    green eyes, just one beautifully packaged lady. She had that special X factor.
    For me, a gay man, Erin had become ideal arm candy to accompany me at formal
    business functions and social events, yet an air of mystery surrounded her.

    I’d known Erin O’Lingus
    for about a year and been seeing her as my steady female companion on a regular
    basis for six months. The year since I met her she’d become a person I could
    depend upon to accompany me to different business functions and social events
    and vice versus. Some gay men dub women who date homosexual men as fag hags,
    queen bees or homo honey. I never referred to Erin by any of these, what I
    consider offensive names, rather, Erin, my companion.

    Of course, because of
    my closeted bisexuality or homosexuality, something I’d yet to figure out, we’d
    not engaged in sex. In contemporary society, because of the hullabaloo being
    raised in the media regarding social injustice and me-too movement, I like many
    men, waited for my partner to make the first overt move towards bedroom
    romance.

    As a prominent member
    of the business and social community I didn’t want to wakeup and see my name
    and photograph splashed across the morning news headlines or on a subpoena;
    therefore, I’d refrained fondling Erin’s genital area. However, in the past
    couple weeks since we’d began seeing more of each other Flame’s seductiveness
    and sensual touches indicated her desire to elevate our relationship to the
    next level: more than a simple good night kiss. Not that the idea of getting Flame
    into bed hadn’t crossed my mind, because it had. The big question, would sex
    negatively impact our friendship? 

    I learned that Erin
    earned her nickname Flame due to her red hair and aggressive nature during her
    youth. She became a fiery debater on the debate team in high school. Even
    though slight of stature during her school years the spitfire never backed down
    from a physical row. Her strong personality influenced her ability to
    communicate effectively with others many times staving off bullies and moving
    up the corporate ladder. 

    During the past couple
    weeks making out with Flame, her passionate kisses began to arouse me more and
    more. Her fervent lips and tongue demonstrated a burning desire for more than a
    simple good night kiss and I began reciprocating with the same passion. From
    what I’d learned about redheads I’m sure she could turn me every which way but
    loose in the bedroom. Something I hadn’t experienced of late.

    My boyfriend and I
    broke up a little over a year before and I hadn’t found a suitable replacement.
    I’m a finicky fucker when it comes to the person I fall in love with and share
    my body and bed. The guys I’d met during the past year just didn’t fit the bill.
    I had no desire to take them home, however for some insane reason Flame lit my
    fuse. Over my adolescent and adult years, I’d developed an adept ability to
    read into people, however the mystery woman left me with questions. 

    I wanted a person who
    could share the same commonalities and interests in life as me. Flame fit that
    criteria. I also wanted a person who could share my same interests sexually. I’m
    a mainstream person when it comes to sex, for the most part vanilla; however, I
    do enjoy certain fetishes. Sensual foreplay and after play are huge part of my love
    life. I’m a versatile lover but prefer to bottom in homosexual relationships;
    however, as a female, Flame didn’t possess the plumbing to satisfy that sexual
    task. 

    Nonetheless if Flame
    might be so inclined, maybe I could convince her to take my booty, using a
    strap-on to satisfy my all-important need to bottom. I never understood why the
    carnal need to fill my bottom with a perfect cock, but I did. In my opinion,
    anal intercourse between two guys is the most important part of lovemaking
    between them. I’d been chasing that elusive perfect cock and lover attached
    thereto for years, to no avail. 

    As something of a cock connoisseur
    I’d found few cocks appealing to my eye or appetizing. Some came close to
    perfect thus far in my life but few. None scored ten on the scale. I was not
    looking for a huge penis, just a well-proportioned awesome cock that I couldn’t
    pry my eyes off. A bedazzling phallus, flaccid or erect, with an awesome
    cockhead that could mesmerize me as no other. Much like the myth of how a Cobra
    hypnotizes its prey into submission.  

    Many times, I compared
    a Cobra to a man’s penis. A must for my ideal penis; a majestic cockhead perched
    atop perfectly proportioned shaft. Not an ugly fucker with bumps, bends or
    other deformities, however I considered a slight curvature upwards acceptable. My
    standard for a perfect penis: a spongy pink cockhead with texture and a vivid
    crimson coronal ring at the base. A cock so awesome appearing that it could
    take my breath away at first glance. A mouth-watering cock making me cry out
    with desire for it to fill me, just looking at it, yet make me smile, moan and
    weep with pleasure as it filled my rectum. 

    Unlike
    many gay men, huge cocks did not attract or excite me other than to maybe look
    at them in porn videos or stroke them, however larger than average cockheads impressed
    me. I have a relatively small mouth and rampant gag reflex. I do not care to
    have eight to ten inches of super cock rammed down my throat gagging and choking
    the fuck outa me, or forcing it up my anus splitting me open, leaving me
    bleeding and my colon hanging out after being fucked. For me I want sex to be the
    most pleasurable event in my life, never painful. 

    At
    almost thirty my booty remained, pink, blemish free and deliciously desirable.
    A sensitive hairless anus, thus far showing no sign of hemorrhoids or trauma. So,
    enamored with my ass, many times I propped a mirror between my legs at my feet
    to view it, especially fingering or filling it with a dildo. Many nights I lay
    in bed gazing at the mirror, watching my sphincter expand and contract coaxing
    the phallic toy inside. 

    I
    enjoyed working the head of my flesh colored realistic dildo into my pulsing
    anus. Once inside the chamber I watched my pink spider gobble up the entire
    phallic toy. Twisting and turning it to bump my prostate producing precum. I
    fantasized about different prominent men fucking me calling out for them by
    name to fuck me, making me cum an explosive orgasm.   

    As
    a man who enjoys anal sex I prefer my partner’s butt to be the same or better
    condition. Anilingus and other anal foreplay activities endear me to a partner.
    My partner’s erect penis must be long enough, at least five inches, for the
    cockhead to contact my prostate, so while he’s fucking me his cockhead bangs
    and rubs my “G” spot, thereby culminating in an explosive orgasm.

    With
    precum in the crotch of my black and silver mesh breathable pouch boxer briefs beginning
    to dry the cloth stuck to the head of my cock as I peeled the undergarment off.
    Turning on the mixer in the shower I wondered what Flame might be doing at that
    moment. Unbeknownst to me, before Flame undressed she’d poured a glass of red
    wine to relax while bathing. 

    In
    her luxurious bathroom Erin lit scent candles while she began preparing the
    warm bubble bath. She too noticed wetness drying in the crotch of her yellow
    panties. She needed to get off with an explosive orgasm before bed. Licking her
    luscious red lips, Flame flicked at, pinched and rubbed her erect nipples,
    attempting to get more juice flowing.

    The
    sultry redhead stepped into the big roman tub filled with warm scented
    bathwater, grasping her favorite dildo in one hand and a hip large stem wine
    glass half full of red wine in the other. She took another sip of wine before
    setting the glass on the edge of the tub next to the candles before submerging
    her body. The scented bubbles began to cover her shoulders. Flame threw her
    head back licking her lips while pinching and flicking her hard nipples. 

    Moaning
    under each flick Flame knew she could get off playing with her nipples, but
    that night she wanted some sexual stimulation between her legs before she
    climaxed. She couldn’t get Paul and those hard nipples she’d discovered out of
    her head. 

    Although
    she’d entertained thoughts she’d yet to fondle Paul’s crotch. She wondered what
    he might look like naked and boned up. The more she fantasized about Paul the
    hornier she became. 

    As
    the sultry redhead continued pleasuring herself by way of manual stimulation
    she envisioned Paul in the tub with her. With the dildo entering her body she
    began moaning and then yelling louder for Paul to eat her and fuck her. Visions
    of Paul eating her, then taking her played out in her mind’s eye. For Flame it
    had been many months since she’d experienced real love making with the real
    thing filling her, too many months. 

    Since
    first meeting Paul, Erin dreamt and fantasized what it might be like for him to
    take her and fill her with his manhood, leaving her breathless, trembling with
    content. A secret smile on her face after they climaxed simultaneously. Meanwhile,
    Paul standing under the shower head at his condo guided his ass onto the well
    lubed suction dildo stuck to the shower surround. After the head disappeared
    inside his asshole he began fantasizing that it was Flame fucking him in the
    ass as he backed onto the rubber sex toy and pulled back, again and again.

    After
    both parties succumbed to explosive orgasms they prepared for bed. Neither
    party could sleep. Their thoughts were on each other, making love. Flame picked
    up her smartphone to call Paul. The phone rang a few times before Paul
    answered. Recognizing the number Paul answered, “Hello babe, what’s up?”

    “Me…Can’t
    sleep.”

    “Me
    either,” I said. “Hope you enjoyed our evening.”

    “Yes,
    loved it…Wish it hadn’t ended with just a good night kiss.”

    “Same
    here.”

    “I
    certainly don’t want to seem forward, but could you come back over so we might
    pickup where we left off…You know carry our feelings to the next level. I hope
    it’s not too late to invite you back.”

    “No,
    not too late for me. I think I’d enjoy that. See you in about fifteen,” I said before
    hanging up.

    Giddy
    with lust I pulled on a pair of casual jogging pants commando, a long sleeve plaid
    flannel button down shirt and pair of sneakers. Before I left my house to get
    into my car for the drive back to Flame’s house I popped a little blue pill. I
    don’t suffer erectile dysfunction, but I discovered the little pill enhances
    sex, plus it shortens the refractory period among other benefits. 

    Before
    I could push the button on the door chime Erin threw open the door. With the
    door open I said, “Trick or treat.”

    There
    Erin stood wearing an irresistible full-length cotton chenille wrap robe, her
    cat circling her feet. She reached out, grasping my hand pulling me inside.
    “You’re my treat for the night.” 

    The
    enticing redhead closed the door, locking it before her arms began encircling
    my neck. Then she began delivering the most seductive kisses to my face, ears
    and neck. The kisses aroused deep emotion causing my cock to begin filling with
    blood. After a few moments we broke our embrace. Erin led me towards the formal
    living room where she pushed me back onto the white couch before asking, “You
    want a glass of wine?” 

    “You
    know I prefer bourbon, if you have it.”

    “Call
    it.” Flame said. Her flirtatious manner had me hot to trot. 

    “One
    ice cube straight.”

    “I
    got Maker’s,” Flame said stepping over to the bar where she began pouring my
    drink. “Here you are.” Handing me bourbon neat in a Maker’s Mark signature
    etched double old fashion glass she seated herself next to me pulling her legs
    and feet up beneath her. Holding her glass of red wine in her left hand the
    back of her silky-smooth right hand began caressing my cheek in a sensual
    manner as she gazed into my eyes. “I hope I’m not being too brazen when I say
    that I’ve got more than a schoolgirl crush for you Paul. I’ve fallen for you in
    a big way.” 

    Not
    surprised by the revelation I said, “I would say that feeling is mutual.”

    “I
    want you as a lover more than just a companion; however, before we consider the
    next level I have a confession to make. You need to know more about me sexually
    before we consummate our relationship,” Flame said.

    “Same
    with me.”

    We
    continued chatting about our feelings for each other. We shared what we found
    to be sexually desirable and gratifying in a partner. During our conversation I
    discovered that Erin possessed a foot fetish as did I. We also realized that we
    enjoyed much foreplay and could become somewhat boisterous at foreplay and
    while making love. Of course, I held back confiding about my anal desire, or
    the fantasy I’d entertained regarding the female clitoris. Flame’s seductive
    behavior during our conversation told me that we were going to end up in her
    bedroom at some point where all could play out. 

    I
    trembled with expectation. Although a mysterious woman I wondered what secret
    she needed to reveal to me. The cat sat across from me on the coffee table
    looking at me with that look of I don’t trust you yet stranger. A look that communicate
    I was the intruder in the cat’s domain. Aware that I must gain the cat’s trust
    if the relationship between Flame and I could progress. I reached out and began
    petting the cat’s head and scratching beneath the chin, throat and neck. The
    cat began to purr stretching its head out for more: a sign of acceptance.

    “He
    likes you…You passed the test,” Flame said. “My cat is my judge of character in
    a paramour. If he likes you that means I like you enough to take things to the
    next level.”

    “What’s
    the next level?”

    “My
    bedroom, silly.” Flame stood up tugging on my hand pulling me to my feet. A
    signal to follow her. With her glass of wine in hand she said, “Bring your
    bourbon.”

    I
    followed Flame to the elegant dark wooden staircase that curled upward spilling
    onto the second-floor landing and walkway. Once on the second floor we took a
    few steps before entering the elegant master bedroom suite.

    “Damn,
    such a stylish bedroom.”

    “I
    kind of like it…Hope you like it. I designed it myself,” Flame began guiding me
    through a quick tour of the bedroom. I couldn’t help but notice the sexually explicit
    paintings and sculptures as well as the phallic curios around the bedroom. The
    one that caught my eye: two young men turned opposite each other on an elegant
    bed engaging in oral sex.  

    Erin
    led me towards the white velvet lounge loveseat. She removed her robe dropping
    it to the floor, revealing the black sexy hot lace satin baby doll lingerie
    night gown. “I hope we spend more time in here.”

    “Oh
    yeah, love it. Taking a seat at the closed end of the loveseat. “Love the
    bathroom, especially the big tub.”

    “Roman
    tub,” Flame said as she sat next to me again pulling her legs and feet up
    beneath her before leaning in and kissing me.

    Once
    again, the kissing began communicating her desire for us to get into bed. My
    hands began to roam around her neck and face while her hands found my nipples. As
    we made out my cock sprung to life. Her left-hand left my nipples and began
    traveling down my torso towards my crotch.

    “Oh
    my, what do we have here,” Flame said as her lips parted from mine. She looked
    into my eyes with desire smiling a mischievous smile. “Why don’t we get more
    comfortable. Do you need to shower or freshen up?”

    “I
    showered before I came over, but I do need to get out of these clothes.”

    Flame
    stood up pointing towards the bathroom. She handed me her robe. I couldn’t take
    my eyes off her dressed in the black negligee and G-string underwear. I trotted
    off to the bathroom to throw some water on my face before I went back into the
    bedroom. The shock of cold water on my face I realized that we were going to
    consummate our relationship. There lying on the bed supporting her head with
    her right hand the foxy redhead. She patted the white sheet covering the
    mattress with her left hand inviting me to join her. I threw off the robe, standing
    there bare-ass naked, revealing my raging hard-on.

    “Oh
    My God, that’s the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” Flame smiled and began
    slithering on her belly towards to me. Once within reach she grasped my hard
    cock pulling the head to her mouth. “May I?”

    My
    mouth froze up, I couldn’t utter a word. Erin began kissing my cock and then
    her tongue began bathing the cockhead before she took the entirety of in into
    her warm mouth. She withdrew letting her silky tongue circle the coronal ring
    before she went to the urethral opening where her talented tongue scooped up
    some precum that had oozed up. “Oh, my that tastes so deliciously delightful.”

    Of
    course, I knew that precum for the most part is tasteless, but maybe to Flame
    it possessed flavor. I slipped onto her bed next to her where we began making
    out. As we kissed she continued manipulating my saliva slick hard cock and
    balls. “My my this is more than I ever dreamed about. You’ve got a magnificent
    dick,” Flame whispered into my ear. 

    I
    refrained from touching her pussy. With all that’s been in the news I decided
    to let her make the initial move, guiding my hand towards her love box. She
    lowered her head to my chest where she began to kiss, lick and bite on my hard
    nipples. She took one between her teeth letting her tongue brush across the top,
    sending shivers through my body I let out loud moans of pleasure.

    “I
    want you Paul…I want you to fill me with that beautiful dick tonight, but first
    you have to be aware of something.”

    “You
    can tell me anything baby.”

    “Better
    I show you.”

    “Okay.”

    With
    that said Flame stood at the side of the bed and began to pull off her negligee
    and sexy undies. Watching her pull her underwear down I gasp. “You got a dick!”
    I exclaimed.

    “Does
    that make a difference?”

    “I
    mean…Uh… I don’t know what to say.”

    “You
    don’t have to say anything baby, just eat me and fuck me.”

    Without
    another word we both threw ourselves into each other, kissing, sucking,
    fingering all the sensual foreplay we could deliver. After about 20 lustful
    moments of foreplay and both of us breathing rapidly Flame begged me to eat her
    ass. I wasted no time getting into position. My hands spread her voluptuous ass
    cheeks like a ripe melon. She or he had the prettiest pink anus. Not a blemish
    or hair in sight. 

    I
    buried my face between the beautiful mounds kissing and licking, letting my
    tongue begin to explore the perineum. Each time my tongue circled the sensitive
    area around Erin’s anus she began bucking her ass into my face. My tongue probed.
    I could hear the moans of pleasure and vocal calls for more. I assumed my
    method of pleasuring her ass was doing the job, so I continued. 

    Occasionally,
    I would pull my tongue from her pucker area letting it journey up the perineal
    path towards the scrotum. I stopped to caress that magnificent scrotal sac and
    full balls inside. Then I moved up to the head of that perfect cock where I
    began licking the precum oozing from the opening. What a Halloween treat.

    “Oh,
    fuck me baby! Fuck me,” Flame began screaming.


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  • Charmed and Used by a Black Daddy

    I’m sure you’ve gotten the idea by now that I get slutty when I’m really horny.  Wednesday night was a perfect example of this.  The only cock I’d had in nearly two weeks was a late-night blow-n-go which, while I always enjoy sucking cock, only made me want to get fucked even more.  So what’s a horny boy to do?  I dressed in some tight clothes and headed to the club.  It was early in the night and they had just opened, so there weren’t many guys there, but I didn’t care.  I only needed one that would satisfy my carnal cravings.  I headed to the bar to get a water.

    I have developed a bit of a reputation with the regulars and some of the staff.  I’ve been known to suck men off in the bathroom or their cars, so word got around.  The bartender who gave me a glass of water seemed to know exactly who I was.  Someone had apparently bragged to him about getting great head and I pretended to remember who he was talking about.  We talked for a few minutes before he started really flirting with me.  There were very few customers, so nobody could hear us or seemed to care.  When he rubbed his cock through his jeans, I knew he meant business.  Being underage, he couldn’t give me a shot at the bar, but he offered one to me if I went in the back room.  He watched as I walked through the door at the end of the bar.  Moments later, he poured a shot of whiskey and followed.  He handed me the shot and immediately unbuckled, unzipped, unbuttoned, and pulled out his nicely-size, fully-erect cock.  I put the shot on a shelf and hit my knees.  Seconds later, his throbbing head was down my throat.  I pushed and pulled a bit while I moaned, only exciting him more.  He was ready to burst after a short time and I was ready to accept every drop.  I moaned harder, which caused a humming in my throat, which was just the thing to set him off.  As he began to shoot, I pulled back and tightened my lips on his shaft just behind his head.  The cum flowed from him as if a dam had been opened which required me to swallow several times.  I did very well in not spilling any, so no real cleanup was necessary.  While tucking his cock back into his briefs, he said that the rumors were true and that I had a talent for sucking.  Once we composed ourselves, he left the room.  I waited a minute, took the shot of whiskey, and casually walked back in the club.

    We had been gone no more than ten minutes, but it looked like business had picked up a little in that time.  I hung out and watched some hot men for while.  I chatted with a few and just enjoyed the scene for a good half hour before the bartender told me that he was going to open the patio bar.  He seemed to want me to follow him out there, so I through the next room and out to the wooden deck area in the back.  Before anyone else wandered outside, he poured us two shots of whiskey and with a cheers, downed them.  One of the first men to step outside was a black man who looked to be in his fifties.  He had a muscular physique, short salt and pepper hair, and dressed in slacks with a nice shirt.  He just seemed to ooze confidence and charm as I watched him walk straight towards me.  He knew the bartender and ordered a drink before introducing himself.  I was a little taken back by how relaxed he was, but he probably knew from my face that I found him very attractive.  We smiled and made some small talk while he got his drink.  He then directed me toward one of the empty tables.  I looked back at the bartender with wide eyes and he just laughed.  This man was smooth, and I mean really smooth.  If he could have known how horny I was, he could have bent me over the bar and fucked me while making small talk with the bartender.  We sat on the same side of the table on a bench against the wall.  We could see the whole patio from these seats.

    He really started to turn up the charm with the conversation.  He knew just when to offer information about himself and then appear very interested in everything I had to say.  He kept asking questions and getting to know me.  The bartender brought him another drink as we talked for maybe half an hour.  By this time, I had practically told him my life story.  There had been some flirting and I had been smiling the whole time, but when he started asking me about my sexual experiences, I felt strangely comfortable opening up.  I had just met this man who was three times my age, yet when he started asking about my first time, he put his hand over mine and the tale just started to flow.  In no time, I was sharing my memorable encounters and he told a few of his.  I even admitted to having swallowed the bartender’s load not long before meeting him.  I was a little afraid that he would frown on my slutty lifestyle, but he seemed even more intrigued.  He was an excellent listener and just made me want to tell him everything.  When he said he needed to use the restroom and told me not to move an inch, I sat patiently swooning as he walked away.  The bartender brought me another water and told me that I was exactly his type and that he was usually seen with young mans.  We laughed and he went back to work as I pondered for a second on how wonderful it was that gay men tend to be more open to significant age differences than straight people.  This man was old enough to be my grandfather, but none of that matters when there’s a strong attraction.

    As he walked back to the table, he stopped and asked the bartender for a shot.  He carried it with him and took his seat next to me.  Over the next few minutes, he shared some of his favorite sexual activities.  He described in detail how he liked to top young mans and feel their heartbeats while he was inside of them.  My smile was practically advertising my consent to every act that he proposed.  I didn’t just want these things to happen, I needed him touching me inside and out.  Then he told me something that did surprise me a little:  he liked to fuck boys while they lie on their backs, get them to cum, bend over and take their loads in his mouth, kiss them to make them swallow it, all with his cock inside them.  My eyes went wide and lips parted from his description of how good it feels and how much it turns him on.  He said he wanted to show me and took the shot in his mouth.  With a seductive hand on the back of my neck, he pulled me in.  He positioned his head slightly above mine so that I was looking slightly up.  I closed my eyes as I felt his lips parting mine.  The shot tasted sweet and creamy as it filled my mouth.  After I swallowed, our tongues began swirling together.  It was a hypnotizing kiss that had my mind racing with all the sexy stories he had told.  Without realizing it, my right hand had moved to rub his bulge.  I realized what I was doing at the same time that I felt how thick his shaft was.  It was an impressive handful and I wasn’t sure my grasp would reach all the way around.  As he pulled away, my eyes opened and locked with his.  While I knew that he had most likely done this many times before, it was a thrill to have such a sexy man charm his way into my pants.  We stared at each other a little longer while he let me feel his continue rubbing his cock.  My heart was racing, a smile went from ear to ear, and I moaned a little as I gently bit my lip.  By the time he took my hand and made me stand, he had full control of me and I was going wherever he wanted.  He left his drink on the table, put some money on the bar for his tab, and led me through the club and out the front door.

    In no time, we were in his BMW headed down the road.  I was rubbing his cock again through his slacks and probably still had the same “fuck me, please” look on my face.  He was getting much harder and his size was even more apparent.  I could tell that he was at least eight inches and had the girth of a can of Red Bull.  After he was on the highway, his right hand was on my leg gently squeezing.  We didn’t say much in the car since we were both thinking about what was going to happen.  Surprisingly, my cock was still mostly limp, but I was so horny that my my hole kept tightening and releasing.  This man had me in a sex-crazed whirlwind.  My mind was completely blank except for imagining what his cock would look like, taste like on my tongue, and feel like deep in my ass.  I even knew that it was going to hurt, but was already mentally preparing for it.  I needed to give myself to him; body, mind, and soul.  As we pulled into his driveway, I noted that the house looked very new and probably expensive.  The garage door closed behind us and he led me inside.  I followed him directly to the bedroom before requesting a quick minute to use the restroom and freshen up.  By the time I got back, there were four candles lighting the room allowing me to see a gorgeous hunk of a man lying naked on the bed.  He was in a pose fit for the start of a good porno with his elbow holding him up and one knee in the air.  He was presenting his half-erect cock to me as if it was magical, which I have to admit, it really was.

    I began to quickly take my clothes off as he started stroking his beautiful shaft.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of it as it began straightening as it hardened.  It was probably the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and I just wanted to take it in my mouth.  I crawled onto the bed and my face went straight for it.  My mouth opened and accepted his head while my lips wrapped around him.  The tip was slightly larger around then his shaft, which gave my mouth a good grip on him to make sure that he wouldn’t pop out.  He lowered his leg and more light allowed me to see more of his shaft.  The veins we already visible, but not throbbing.  He relaxed and let me enjoy the taste of his magnificent dark chocolate stick as I took more of him in my mouth.  I knew I probably couldn’t deepthroat him, but I wanted to please him more than anything.  His pubes were trimmed and short allowing me to see that his balls were proportionate to his cock and I was sure that he would have a good amount of cum for me.  I was in heaven with him in my mouth, my hands gently massaging his sac, and his scent filling my nose.  Sucking cock is my favorite type of foreplay, but this man had my body yearning for more.  I was ready for him to fuck me, but wanted to show him my oral skills first.  My fingers didn’t quite reach around his shaft, but I tried and I started stroking it.  My hand stayed stationary in front of my lips as my head moved with a rhythm.  I pivoted so that the bottom of his head was sliding against my tongue and I could look up at his face.  He stared down at me with a look of pleasure and accomplishment.  I continued this slow stroking motion for a couple minutes and he was rock hard.  I wanted to make him cum, but I also wanted to feel him inside me.  I pulled back while still stroking him to catch my breath and told him that I needed to get fucked.

    I asked and he certainly provided.  In no time, he was holding a bottle of lube and a string of XL condoms.  He rose to his knees and threw me into position with my ass in the air and face to the sheets.  My legs spread for him as I supported myself on my elbows.  Looking over my shoulder, I saw him tear open a wrapper and stretch a rubber over his cock.  He squirted a generous helping of lube directly between my cheeks and ran his tip up and down to spread it around.  He did his best to be gentle as he lined up and pushed forward.  It took me a few seconds to accept his girth as his cock pushed at my hole.  My back arched as he spread me open and moaned.  I gripped the sheets as his head popped inside me for the first time.  He put the first couple inches into me and I was in a state of shock.  It hurt more than I thought it would, but also felt so amazing that I didn’t even care.  As he pulled back slowly, I felt more lube run down my crack and to my stretched hole.  He worked some around with his fingers to coat his shaft before pushing back into me.  With each slow thrust, I could feel myself relaxing and the pain subsiding.  I could tell that he had lots of experience working his big cock into tight holes and I was very grateful at that moment.  He probably took a couple minutes to get lubed and worked into me before he was literally balls deep.  My ass cheeks were on his hips as he started grinding away.  I could barely breathe, my back still arched, face forward, and mouth open.  I was out to get fucked that night and knew that I had hit the jackpot with this man.

    His hands were on my hips and cock deep inside my gut.  I tried my best to relax and just let it happen.  He went from grinding to thrusting and I could already feel an orgasm building.  With every thrust, it felt like my insides were being molded to perfectly fit his big, black dick.  I felt every erotic pleasure that I’ve ever experienced from getting fucked happening all at once.  This man knew how to fuck and made it seem effortless.  I looked over my shoulder again and saw him staring down at me with a grin.  His motion resembled a man slowly riding a horse; moving forward and back in the saddle.  While he showed no sign of finishing any time soon, I was ready to burst.  A quick glance down let me know that I was dripping precum.  All the stimulation was from inside of me, so my dick wasn’t even hard.  I’m no stranger to an anal orgasm, but this one was going to be big.  As he kept thrusting, I let him know it was going to happen.

    It seemed like one fluid motion as he flipped me and pulled me towards the edge of the bed.  I don’t even think he pulled out, but more spun me around his shaft.  I was on my back, legs apart in the air, my limp dick flopping around, and he started thrusting harder.  The change in position made it feel even better as he impaled me again and again.  That was it, I was cumming.  My head was back and eyes closed as I felt his lips lock around my dick.  He was able to continue thrusting even while bent over, which only added to my excitement.  I started to shoot from my soft cock into his warm mouth.  I was in a trance and it felt like the longest orgasm of my life.  His lips stayed locked down until he was sure that I had given him all that I could.  His thrusting slowed to his previous pace and I felt his right hand on the back of my neck.  His lips touched mine and he began kissing me deeply and passionately.  I had never felt like more of a sissy in my life and it was amazing.  He was on top of me, his massive cock splitting me open, he made me cum through my limp dick, and I was being fed my own sissy semen.  Once I swallowed it all, he pulled back, but still wasn’t finished with me.

    Every muscle in my body had tensed up and was now releasing.  It was as if I was melting into a puddle on the bed.  He could have done anything he wanted to me in that moment and I wouldn’t have cared.  His hard cock had burrowed a new home in me and my hole felt wrecked.  He had to keep going though because I needed him to cum too.  I take pride in never leaving a cock unsatisfied and there was no way he was getting away without giving me his load.  By the time the blood rushed back to my head, I knew I had to step up my game for this magnificent man.  He was still pounding me like a stallion, but I wasn’t sure if that alone was going to do the trick.  I started telling him that I wanted him to cum, I wanted to taste it, that he felt amazing, and finally, that he could do whatever he wanted.  That seemed to be what he was waiting for since I quickly found myself in a new position.  He rolled me over so that I was bent over the edge of the bed.  My legs were spread and I was flat on my stomach.  His pace quickened and it almost felt like his cock was growing bigger inside of me.  My right ass cheek suddenly felt the sting of a solid, very strong slap.  He was breathing heavily now and he was really trying to go as deep as possible.  I just grabbed the sheets and moaned between breaths, which was pretty much all I could do.  I could feel my hole tightening slightly with each slap and it just excited him more.  He was good at this and knew exactly what he liked.  I was just an erotic toy to him and I was perfectly content with it.  Right at the time that I stopped wincing as much from the slapping, he changed course and leaned down over me.

    His hands found my shoulders and gripped as if to prevent me from escaping.  He was drilling me harder than ever and moaning loudly.  He was going to cum and I begged him for it.  I wanted to feel him shoot and I needed to make sure he enjoyed himself at least half as much as I had.  That’s when it happened.  As he began to erupt, it felt like his cock doubled in size.  I cried out from the pain and my body started an involuntary bucking motion.  This was all reflex and there was no way for me to stop.  He held me in place and continued to ram me while my arms and legs jerked around.  I was screaming at this point and tears welled in my eyes.  I have no idea how long this lasted, but it felt like hours.  The louder I screamed, the louder he moaned.  I was helpless to resist and he was taking full advantage of my desire to please him.  Thrust after thrust, shot after shot, my crying out only seemed to excite him more.  I was not myself in that moment.  I was a piece of flesh with a tight hole for him to abuse.  As the assault on my hole began to slow, I lie motionless on the bed.  He slowly pulled out and neither of us said a word.  He wandered into the bathroom and I heard the shower start.  He rinsed off and dried himself while I remained exactly where he had left me.

    He put on shorts and a shirt before telling me that I needed to get dressed.  He had called a taxi and said it would be there any minute.  I was being shuffled off now that he was done with me.  As I tried to stand and compose myself, I saw the evidence of my second orgasm sprayed down the side of the bed.  He told me that he rarely gets a second fuck and knows that he is aggressive in the moment.  I agreed that it was intense.  He also mentioned that the bartender had text him about me before we met and said he was right that I was his type.  I guess this will get around, but I could only think of how long I would need to recover.  He gave me a twenty for the taxi and sent me back to the club for my car.  He did give me his number, just in case I wanted another round.  While I was physically hurt, I was sexually satisfied.  I wanted to get fucked hard and that’s exactly what had happened.

    Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I absolutely loved being charmed and seduced by such an attractive older man.  He simply oozed masculinity and sexuality, not to mention his magnificent cock.  I thought about making him cum in my mouth, but then if he face-fucks me in the same manner, there’s no way I would survive.  I’ve decided that I would like to see him again.  If it gets him off that much to wreck my ass, I’m willing to take it.  I do love to please.


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  • My Gang Bang Dream

    I have had a recurring dream now for some time and I always wake up super horny.  As dreams go, it changes a bit each time, but the main events are the same.  If there were ever a way to make the dream come true while still being safe, I would want it to go on for days.  It turns me on so much that I would probably fuck until I pass out and still hope they keep going.  Let me explain the scene and you can let me know what you think.

    The location varies and I’ve had the dream start in a gym, locker room, bathhouse, public restroom, or a warehouse.  I always realize when the dream is starting because I walk into a room and all the men stop to look at me.  I get the feeling that I was going somewhere and took a wrong turn.  I am usually wearing something skimpy or just my underwear.  No two of the men are ever alike; a beefy black man, tall white jock, older bear type, and an average looking young dad are usually in the mix.  As I act embarrassed and turn to leave, I feel a hand on my shoulder.  It’s never the same man, but always someone with whom I remember hooking up.  He tells me how good it is to see me again and then proceeds to inform the group that I was the boy in a story he had told them.

    The events of our time together come flooding back to me and I start to blush.  All the men suddenly look even more eager than before.  They start to get closer and I feel a couple hands touching my body.  They are discussing the events of the story and retelling the praises I had been given.  Seconds later, I’m naked and the men are circled around me.  They are talking to each other while groping me, looking me over, and touching themselves.  When I am finally let in on the secret, it starts to make sense.  When my former lover had described our encounter, all the men were jerking off together.  They said they like to tell each other their experiences and let the others cum thinking about it.  The story involving me had been a particularly hot session.

    I am now standing naked in front of these men who had already heard about how much I love cock.  They are all hard as they began pulling out their cocks and stroking.  All my fears fade away as I see a cock and reach for it.  My other hand wraps around a different shaft as I start jerking off their big, beautiful dicks.  As I look at each one, they are all different shapes and colors, but all amazing.  Each one looks like it would hit a different combination of spots inside me.  Without wasting any time, the man directly behind me puts his hands on my hip and shoulder and then bends me over.  My face falls directly on another cock which a swallow immediately.  I feel a hard cock smack my ass and then my legs are spread about three feet apart.  I feel a finger at my hole and then inside me.  Next comes a hard tip lining up and driving in.  He glides all the way into my gut as if I had already been filled with lube.  With his hands on my hips, he begins to aggressively fuck me while making sure I don’t move.  Now the man with his cock down my throat starts doing the same thing.  I’ve got four hard dicks to please and I’m trying my best.  I can hear the sounds of other men vigorously jerking while watching me getting used.  My ass and throat apparently feel just as amazing as they had been told and both men cum very quickly.  I take two pint-sized loads or hot cum at the same time and it’s spilling from each end.  As soon as they finish, they pull out and more of their juices splash on the floor.

    In my dream world, I apparently need no recovery time nor to breath because in seconds, two more men were in position and I was being stuffed on both ends again by what seem like larger erections.  They fuck me even more aggressively until they both blow their loads.  My hands were now on the hips of the man in front of me and the two men that I had been stroking moved in to shoot their cum on my back and ass.  After all four of them finish, I’m moved to a swing (that somehow appears) and suspended on my back.  My legs are spread in the air exposing my messy hole and my head is hanging over the opposite end of the swing.  As nylon ropes are brought out, my ankles and wrists are tied to the chains that are suspending my dripping holes at the perfect height to be used.  With my head back and legs spread, two more cocks drive into me.  I now have no control as they begin impaling me with no concern for my pleasure or well-being.  The mess from my mouth is running down my face and I can’t see anything.  I’m in heaven while I’m getting stuffed by the large cocks of unknown men in a place that I can’t recognize and I have no control over how long I’ll be there or what else is going to happen.

    I hear the sounds of more men showing up and joining the fun.  I take load after load in my holes and there is always another hung stud ready to make sure my holes are filled.  I feel men shooting cum on my limp dick, stomach, chest, and neck.  Each load is warm, inviting, and assures me that I’m doing my duties well.  I’m constantly hearing the moans of the seemingly limitless sea of horny men focused on using me for their satisfaction.

    This goes on for what seems like hours with no end in site.  My dream usually ends while I’m in this position.  Since I have this dream often, I sometimes have a man in the bed with me and get the pounding I need.  Other times, I have to use a dildo and jerk off, which isn’t nearly as satisfying.  If STDs didn’t exist, I’d probably be doing this every weekend with as many men as I could find.  I know reality won’t be quite the same as the dream world, but even if it’s close, it would feel amazing.


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  • Confirmation Glitch

    I lay there on the bed in my windowless bedroom at the Shockoe Commons building on Richmond’s East Main Street, watching Ham dress for court at the nearby Lewis F. Powell courthouse. This was a storage room on paper, because bedrooms weren’t allowed to be windowless, but this was prime downtown space and the authorities—and the court system as well—looked the other way on building safety issues when it was made worth their while. Hamilton Lee had looking the other way made worth his while a lot.

    I was posing for him, lying on my back, head propped up under one elbow, legs bent and spread, the fingers of the other hand playing on my bare belly, giving him the “come back to bed” look. I’d been on edge when he appeared at this one-bedroom—really studio—apartment he mostly paid for at 6:00 in the morning, wanting to dip his wick before going to work. We both had to be at work by 8:30—Hamilton Lee the Third was off to the U.S. Fourth Circuit of Appeals, where he was a justice, and me a bit later to the law offices of Gordon and Keys in the One James River Plaza building. I was a law clerk there, in my first year beyond taking my law degree in the University of Virginia in Charlottesville.

    I was Ham’s boy toy and, after a year, I’d wondered where this was going. What he’d told me this morning before he fucked me, in the missionary position, on the bed he’d paid for, had assured me. I wanted him to come back to bed and fuck me again—even if it meant we were both late for work this morning—especially if it meant we were late for work this morning. I wanted the sex and the commitment, the commitment I wanted him to make to me, to mean more than the jobs.

    “Come back to bed, Ham,” I cooed, lowering my fingers to my hole and spreading it for him. He had spread it himself with his cock a half an hour earlier, and he’d barebacked me as some sort of seal of commitment, releasing his seed deep inside me. He’d said I should take the barebacking as a pledge that he’d funk no other man than me and that he trusted me to make the same sacrifice. He’d even called it a sacrifice.

    “I can’t, Brian,” he said. “Not today. I have a full docket.” He was knotting his blue power tie and buttoning up the gray vest to his gray silk suit. He looked good, trim, glowing with health at forty-nine, the gray at his temples complimented by the color of the suit. Within the next hour the suit would be covered by his black robes. He’d look good in those too. He was a handsome man, and he was a vigorous lover, holding me close underneath him, penetrating me deep, taking his time mining my channel and releasing inside me.

    “In Chicago on Thursday,” he said. “We’ll have time then. It will be better away from here. You’ll be there? I’ve booked reservations for you at the Sheraton Grand. I’ll be across the river at the Wyndham Grand. Just a short walk, though.”

    “Yes, I’ll be there,” I answered. “But by Christmas, you say? By Christmas we won’t need to do any more of this sneaking around.”

    “Yes, by Christmas.”

    “Out in the open,” I said, not phrasing it as a question but seeking assurance.

    “Yes. Out in the open.”

    I could dream it could happen. He was on a lifetime tenure. There was no reason for him to care what people thought. I, of course, didn’t matter to people. They could think what they wanted to about me. But it would be quite an adjustment for me. I’d never done monogamy before. It would be difficult. But it would be worth it. It was quite a commitment on his part. I don’t think he’d been monogamous either—but I do know that he’d been hyper careful about anyone knowing he did men.

    * * * *

    It was a good thing that today was Saturday and only a half day at work, because I wasn’t much good at work, needing to tell someone of the momentous change coming in my life. By 1:00, I was on the road, going out Broad Street. I stayed on that when it turned into 250 West at the Short Pump shopping mall rather than taking I-64, as the older highway, once known as Three-Copt Road—and still known that in some segments of the route went through my destination. Thomas Jefferson’s father had blazed the road from Richmond to Charlottesville, marking the route by three chops of a hatchet in the trees along the trail. Gum Springs was a forty-five-minute drive west from Richmond. Once a bustling center of legal activity, it now was a sleepy little out-of-the-way crossroads, with an impressive court house building that had lost out on time and redeployed population centers.

    Abe Johnson lived at the end of Whitetail Road, off a segment of Three Chopt Road, in a single-wide rusting trailer that belied the elderly black man’s actual worth. His worth to me went well beyond the financial, even though it had been his finances that had put me through William and Mary and then the UVa law school. When I entered the trailer, he was sitting at a card table going through his collection of old coins. It had been buying and selling of those that had made him a fortune that wasn’t apparent in his lifestyle and that had put me through college. The bug had transferred to me a bit as well. Abe had guided me in collecting coins he thought would appreciate well. I had several mounted in frames and sitting on bookcases and tables in my apartment.

    Abe was old and grizzled, but he still, at nearly sixty, was a powerfully built man, fitting for a man who did manual labor for himself and a good many neighbors in Gum Springs. He was a tall man, nearly six and a half feet tall, muscular, and trim. He was ugly as sin, but he was body beautiful. Although his window air conditioner was on and chugging along loudly at an off rhythm, he was just wearing athletic shorts. His muscular ebony body glistened in the heat.

    “You didn’t say you were coming today, Brian,” he said, looking up from his coins and giving me a smile.

    “But you’re glad to see me anyway?” I responded.

    “Always. You must have news. I knew you were antsy about this judge thing. You coming to tell me you’ve come to your senses on that or that he’s proposed.”

    “He proposed. Said we’d be together and open about it before Christmas.” I didn’t say anything about a commitment having been made about monogamy, sealed by barebacking. That had come on with no notice. I could start my side of that bargain tomorrow or the next day.

    “And that will be a piece of cake for him—being as he’s a high-up-there federal judge with a wife and children? Probably a dog and cat too.”

    “He’s got life tenure, Abe. He’s at the end of whatever he needs to be conventional for.”

    “You sure about that?” the black man asked, looking at me—looking inside me, it seemed.

    “He says he can’t go on with the hypocrisy and that it’s me he wants,” I said, sounding more defensive than a wanted to.

    “It’s not him I’m thinking of, son. It’s you. He can go hang for all I care. Living a lie and pulling a woman into it. I’ll bet he’s been doing young men all along. And giving her children while living the lie.”

    “He says he’s not sure they’re even his children. He says his wife knows—that she’s known for some time—and is along for the ride. That she’s been happy being a justice’s wife.”

    “And that makes it all all right?” Abe asked. “He’ll be different with you? He won’t live a life of lies with you?”

    “He says it will all be in the open. Everyone will know. So, no need for lying anymore.”

    “And you? You won’t be living a lie?”

    “No, of course not,” I answered. But I couldn’t look him straight in the face.

    “You’ve never been with just one man before, Brian,” he said. “If he makes this commitment in good faith he’ll expect you to make a full commitment too, won’t he?”

    “Yes,” I answered.

    “Has he demanded this commitment already? Has he made you show the commitment?”

    “Yes,” I answered, showing a sudden interest in the books on the shelf across the narrow room from where He had said it would mark a commitment, from both of us, when we fucked bareback early that morning. Abe was sitting. But then Abe wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing, towering nearly to the ceiling of his narrow trailer, 240 pounds of hard muscle and sinew.

    “Can you really make that commitment, Brian?” he asked. And then when I couldn’t answer him, couldn’t even look at him, he said, in a low, husky voice. “Come back to the bedroom with me now.” I hadn’t told him I’d already made the commitment, or that I knew I wouldn’t start on it today, that coming out here to see Abe had meant I wouldn’t be starting a commitment of monogamy to Ham today. Ham was no more dishonest about such things as I was.

    Abe fucked me doggie style, bent over the double bed that took up most of the room in the trailer’s bedroom. He rocked the trailer on its cinderblocks with the power of his thrusts. His 240-pound, six-foot-six, body covered and enveloped my five-foot-seven, slim 150 pounds. He held me firmly captive, as he always had done in this position, with one of his beefy, thick-fingered hands cupping my chin and arching my shoulder blades back into his muscular chest and his other hand palming my belly, holding me in place, as he fucked me with the longest, thickest black cock I’d ever taken.

    I whimpered and begged for the cocking, murmuring a “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me like that” mantra as he breeded me, bareback, Abe grunting and straining to take me deep and me writhing and crying out that he was touching me in the core like no one else did. I collapsed under him, relaxing, and he penetrated me deeper, his bulb kissing my spongy walls deep up inside me, his shaft still spreading my channel its throbbing length. He released inside me and I gave a little cry, arcing my own cum as I stroked myself with my hand, as he opened his arms, letting me fall on my belly on the bed, shuddering and writhing as he continued to pump. He had usually worn protection. I think he barebacked me now to ram home his point—to erase the ritual I’d gone through with Ham earlier in the day. One thing was clear. Abe Johnson would fuck me when and where he wanted to.

    I also couldn’t hide from him. He knew me better than anyone else did. But still I maintained the pretense. It didn’t count. This just didn’t count to negate what I was moving into with Hamilton Lee. He hadn’t publicly declared yet. After Chicago. After then, I would call it off with any man other than Ham—even with Abe.

    * * * *

    I didn’t hear from Ham for the next few days, but that didn’t surprise or worry me. I knew he’d be busy before he went to Chicago the next weekend, where he was to give an address at Northwestern University. He’d even said that there would be cases coming onto the docket after he got back from Chicago that would restrict his free time. But then he’d added that he couldn’t stay away from me, so there would be opportunities for us—and that, again, before Christmas we’d move in together. My apartment—well, the apartment he paid for for me—was, of course, too small, and he was sure he’d have to let his wife have his house. I asked if I should start apartment hunting in this area, but he said we should do that together. There should be opportunity by the Thanksgiving recess at the court, he said.

    Every workday that I could and the weather permitted, I went for a run in Brown’s Island Park on Brown’s Island in the James River at the foot of Richmond’s Capitol Hill. Thus, on the Tuesday after my encounters with Ham and Abe on Saturday, I was out in the park at 6:00 pm after work, running, bare-chested because of the heat, with my T-shirt tucked into my athletic shorts at the back. I was hitting the asphalt pretty hard, as, having had it twice on Saturday, I was antsy with wanting it again, while knowing I was supposed to pull away from it now.

    I was checking out the other guys who were out running, several of them familiar to me, one or two of them having fucked me before, because I was a pretty promiscuous guy. This was a sticking point with Ham and the monogamous thing. He’d need to fuck me a lot from me not to pine for more of it than he could provide.

    There was a new guy out, running the park paths. He looked like he was older than me, I thought, but not much. He was gorgeous—a sultry, dark-haired, hirsute Italian type. He was running bare-chested, like most of us. He was divinely developed, but in a hard-bodied, sinewy way, so lean that his veins bulged out on his arms, chest, and legs because they had no fat to run through. He was a good six feet tall. In contrast to his tan and dark hair, his eyes were a milky blue. I had observed this, because he passed me four times or more before I realized that he was tracking me and flirting with me.

    I flirted back. My need was great. I’d been thinking for a couple of days how I was going to have to maintain a monogamous commitment to Ham and the response had, as the days without sex wore on, been that my commitment to Ham needn’t start until the next time we were together. I was in heat. I wanted to writhe under men while I felt free to do so. The third time the man came at me in the opposite direction and smiled at me in slowing down and passing me, I was thinking of him as a sex partner. That was normal with me. I assessed all men I saw as possible sex partners. I even gave them numbers. At first look, this guy looked like a 9 point 5.

    When I came upon him standing by a water fountain, I stopped. Looking at him looking at me as I approached had made me slow down and stop, I knew we would fuck. My commitment to Ham could start the next time we met. I was in heat now.

    “Hi,” he said.

    “Hi yourself,” I answered. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in the park before. You look good.”

    “I am good,” he answered. “Is there a Starbucks around here?”

    “Not far. Over on 12th Street, near my apartment.”

    “You live near here?”

    “Yes,” I answered.

    “Alone?”

    “Yes. I work at the lawyer’s office not far from here.”

    “I’ll pay,” he said.

    “For the coffee, I assume,” I said and smiled.

    “For that too.” He smiled back.

    After we’d finished nursing our coffee, he determined that I was twenty-three, a newly minted lawyer, who went to UVa, worked here in Richmond, was named Brian, and, yes, was gay, and I determined that he was here on business from Washington, had gone to George Washington University, was recently out of the military and back from Afghanistan, was twenty-eight, that I could call him Jason, and, yes, he too was gay—and an active top.

    “You say you live near here,” he said, looking inside his empty coffee cup, bringing the conversation back to available private space.

    “Yes, just a block over, on East Main.”

    “And you said you lived alone?”

    “Mostly.”

    “Today, this evening? Tonight?”

    “All alone.”

    “I’d pay you two hundred bucks.”

    “You don’t have to pay me anything. I’m promiscuous, but I’m not a prostitute.” At least in one-night stands, I thought. I certainly felt like a prostitute with Ham sometimes. And when Ham was mad at me he told me I was.

    He smiled. “But you’re going to show me your apartment? It has a bedroom?”

    “It’s got a storage room with a queen-sized bed in it. I make do.”

    He was a highly competent and satisfying sex partner, spending time suck me and me sucking him on the sofa in my living room before draping me belly down on the arm of the sofa, my arms and head dangling toward the floor, while he mounted me from behind and above like a jockey, his feet buried in the sofa cushion on either side of my knees, slowly penetrated me with a quite acceptable cock and fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.

    “Do you want me to stay the night?” he asked.

    “The bedroom is this way,” I answered.

    He fucked me in a missionary at the foot of the bed, wishboning my legs while he fucked me slow and deep. He pulled me up onto the bed, stretched his body behind mine, and embraced me. We woke up in the morning before dawn in that position. He was hard and, in fondling me, I became hard and panting, as well. He fucked me in a side split before we showered.

    “You have to go to work today?” he asked.

    “Yes, but not until 8:30, and it’s within a fifteen-minute walk,” I answered. It was barely 7:00 then. “There’s time for breakfast before you have to go.”

    The other shoe dropped while we were eating breakfast, he sitting on a stool and me standing and leaning in to him.

    “This is a nice apartment,” he said. “You pay for it all yourself?”

    “Why do you ask?”

    “I understand that the federal judge, Hamilton Lee, pays most of the freight here. You have a relationship with him?”

    “Where is this coming from?” I asked, backing up around to the opposite side of the kitchen island from him.

    “I’m a reporter with the Washington Post,” Jason said. “I told you I majored in journalism at GWU, but you seemed so anxious to get me on top of you in bed that you didn’t ask further. If you had, I would have had to reveal that to you yesterday. We’re doing an article on Lee and an upcoming confirmation and your name—and relationship with him—has come up.”

    “I have nothing to say about that,” I said. “It’s getting late. Perhaps you should go.”

    “Can I finish my omelet first?” he asked, flashing me the smile that I had found oh so disarming the night before.

    “I don’t think so,” I said, moving toward the door. To his credit he just left.

    I wondered whether I should telephone Ham and tell him about the reporter but then I might have to reveal that I’d slept with him. I decided it could wait until we met in Chicago. And once I’d decided not to go further with it, it occurred to me that revealing our relationship actually might be a good thing for me. That way that we were a couple was going to come out publicly one way or the other—and maybe much before Christmas.

    After Jason left, I found that he’d left a business card on the kitchen island. He really was Jason—Jason Stone—which surprised me a bit. I had assumed he’d given me a fake name, although, devil may care, I’d given him my real name. And he really was a reporter for the Washington Post.

    * * * *

    I was fiddling around on the computer in my room at the Sheraton Grand Chicago, waiting for Ham to call from over at the Wyndham when the text came through telling me he hadn’t made it to Chicago. A couple of monster cases had dropped on the appeals court and he was still in Richmond. I was to have a good time and to use the credit card he’d given me. To say that I was royally pissed would be an understatement. We hadn’t fucked since before that Washington Post reporter laid one on me. I went down to the hotel bar and ordered up the most expensive Scotch they had on the top shelf.

    “I’d like to buy that one for you.”

    He had been sitting at the bar when I came in, but I don’t think it was as close as he was sitting now. Now there was just one seat between us. We were the only ones in the hotel bar other than the bartender, who was busy polishing glasses. That just as a rouse to make it look like he wasn’t paying attention, I think, because whenever I or the other guy might want something, there Joe the bartender was. I thought of him as Joe because that’s the name I thought about for all bartenders.

    I looked at the guy offering the drink and I thought of danger and G-man—or maybe mafia. He was a big bruiser, but not like in fat. Maybe in his mid-thirties. Old enough to have technique and experience. He certainly looked like the “in command” type. He wore a black suit, and it wore it quite well. He was a solid citizen, square jawed, a rugged face. A handsome devil in a thuggish or policeman sort of way. The hands he cradled his beer bottle in were big—strong looking. I immediately thought of them running over my body, finding and working crevices and curves. I was royally pissed at Ham for standing me up—and doing it across country, for God’s sake. I wanted to punish him.

    “Normally I’d say yes, but this is a revenge Scotch,” I answered. “I’ve just got to charge this on this card.” I took out the credit card Ham had given me and laid it on the bar top.

    “Girl trouble?” he asked.

    “No. Guy trouble,” I said. I might as well get it out there on top, I thought. If he wasn’t what I needed, it would be good to know now. Why would he have wanted to buy me a drink if he wasn’t interested in fucking me, though.

    “Ah, I see,” he said, moving over to the stool next to me and putting a hand on the top of the short back on my stool. So, that answered that. “Maybe you’ll let me buy you the next one then.”

    “If there’s a next one,” I said.

    “You have someplace you need to be?”

    “Not now. I thought I did, but not now.”

    “Me neither, not for a while. So, maybe you’ll stay for me to pay for the next one.”

    “Maybe, if you want.” I turned and looked directly into his eyes. He gave me a steely, “I’ll be in charge if you let me” look.

    “I think I very much want,” he said. His right hand moved from the stool top to me. It started at the back of my neck, slowing glided down to my butt, and then came back up and hooked itself on the edge of the low back on the barstool again.

    “Nice,” he said as if he could get all of my measurements off that one glide down my back. I shuddered at the feel of the power of the hand, having just done a quick fantasy of the hand feeling me up all over. He was going to fuck me and he knew it. “I’m in Chicago just a short time without anyone to share it with. And you?”

    “Me too. Someone else was supposed to be here with me, but he can’t do it.”

    “Then maybe his loss is my gain. I’m Craig. Craig Scott. But my friends call me Shooter.” His eyes went to the shot glass in front of him on the bar top, and I got the idea that the nickname came from how he took his drinks—straight and strong from a shot glass.

    “I’m Brian. Brian Salter,” I answered. My real name again. I never seemed quick enough to resort to pretense with a guy when I was imagining his dick inside me. “I’m from Richmond. I was here to weekend with a guy and he didn’t show up.” I don’t know why I’d revealed that, but he took the lead from there.

    “So, there’s nothing you’ve got to do for the next day or two.”

    “No plans, no,” I said.

    “How do you feel about coins?”

    “Coins?” I asked, Abe back in Gum Springs coming immediately to mind. “Coins are good. I have a friend who collects them and he’s shared some of what he knows with me.”

    “Well, that’s the one thing I’m here in Chicago for—there’s a coin collector’s convention going on at the Hyatt Regency, just across the river. That’s where I’m staying. I’m based in Washington, D.C., but I like to go around to coin shows. After that second drink, we could go over there for a bit and look around and then on to wherever. I’ll take you to dinner and clubbing, if you want. And more, if you want. How does that sound?”

    “That sounds just like what the doctor ordered,” I said, amazed, in fact. A coin show. Who would have thought that I’d run into a coin collector here when I needed a guy? Just like Abe. A coin collector and an answer to a guy’s needs. That too was just like Abe.

    Shooter smiled and his hand slid down to my buttocks again and he squeezed one of my cheeks. Oh, yeah, I was going to get fucked by a big bruiser.

    He removed his hand, reached into an inner pocket in his tailored suit jacket, and came out with a coin in a clear vinyl sleeve. “I’ve come to trade a few coins too. This baby, for instance. You ever seen one of these?”

    I took the packet from him and looked at the coin. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I said. This is an Indian Head Gold Eagle.”

    “It sure is. So, you do know something about coins. It’s a 1933 Indian Head Eagle—the last year they were minted, and they’d been turned out in small quantities for the previous decade. You have any idea what this is worth?”

    “None at all.”

    “This baby could go for $500 or $600 at a coin show like this one. I brought this to trade. I’d be happy to trade it with you.”

    “Trade it with me? For what?”

    “For your ass. You lay down and open your legs for me and it’s yours. You let me fuck you and you’ve got yourself a 1933 Indian Head Gold Eagle.”

    “Just like that?” I asked.

    “I knew you were looking to be laid as soon as you came into the bar. And I could tell that you are prime male tail. Let me fuck you into tomorrow, and I’ll take good care of you today. Deal?”

    I smiled and reached for the coin, but he pulled it away and put it back in his inner pocket. “Not until after the first fuck,” he said.

    “The first fuck?” I asked.

    “Yeah. I said into tomorrow. If you can take it, I can give it.”

    “I can take it.”

    “You got a room here?”

    “Yes.”

    “Let’s make a stop before checking out the coin show.”

    * * * *

    “Work for it,” Shooter said when we went upstairs to my room and he placed the Indian Head coin on top of the nightstand next to the bed, and work for it I did. We kissed and groped standing up as we slowly disrobed. I was shocked to find that he had an armpit holster with a gun in it. He draped the holster over the side of a chair back within sight of the bed, so my gaze could keep going back to it as we fucked and it was there to emphasize the danger of the man and situation.

    He was a massive, muscular “all man” guy. He wasn’t long, but he was thick, nearly dislocating my jaw as he sat on the end of the bed and I knelt before him and gave him a blow job. When he’d fired off on my chest, he pulled me onto the bed, held me captive stretched on top of his body, with my arms trapped over my head by one of his arms, while he slow jacked me with his other hand. My legs were pinned by his laced through them. He jacked me until I was close to coming, backed me off, jacked me and edged me some more, and when I was whimpering from the cruel teasing, my balls aching, he squeezed my balls and laughed as I jerked and came, jerked and came.

    Then we fucked, and it was then that he wanted me to work for it. He lay on his back, running his hands over my body and gripping me, hard again, while I rode his cock in a cowboy, both facing him and grinding my buttocks into his crotch, taking him as deep as he could go and as thick as I could endure. And then I rode him in a crab position, stretched over his body, my head above his and my arms and legs bent, feet and knuckles buried in the mattress on either side of his body and raising and lowering myself on his cock.

    Nearly all the time, my eyes were glued to the holster hanging from the chairback across the room, with me wondering who he was and what he did to be carrying a concealed gun.

    We fucked once and he slapped me on the butt, hard, as I rolled off him. “Best little whore in Chicago,” he growled.

    “I’m not a prostitute. I don’t do this professionally or for just anyone,” I said somewhat indignantly.

    “Could have fooled me,” he said, slapping me on the butt again, laughing, and grabbing me, putting me under him this time, slapping my legs apart, fucking me in a missionary.

    After I’d been well fucked, Shooter let me have the Indian Head coin, we showered and dressed, and he took me to the Hyatt for the coin show, then to dinner in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant off the beaten path, where he insisted on a booth where we couldn’t be seen by anyone except the delinquent waitress and where I then assumed he was going to do some fondling and groping, but he didn’t.

    “How about a bit of clubbing before we fuck some more?” he asked.

    “Whatever. It’s your call,” I said. I was feeling mellow. The thickness of him was taxing, but I found the mystery and hint of gangster or cop in him arousing, and, for the value of the Indian Head coin, he had the whole night left on the meter if he wanted to use it.

    “I hear Boystown is the place to go in Chicago,” I said.

    “I hear that too. Too far west of here to walk, but we can take a cab.”

    “And the crowd pleaser to go to there, I hear, is Sidetrack.”

    “I know the place. I bit too many people for me. Not intimate enough.”

    So, he took me to a place called the Manhandler Saloon, which had a Western motif, a couple of smallish bar rooms, and a patio with a dance band. Shooter sat at a table, in his black suit, and watched me as I danced on the flagstones, sometimes with myself, sometimes with other guys, mostly near my own age, usually touchy feely, putting me in the mood.

    Near 2:00 in the morning we cabbed back to the Chicago River area. Shooter gave the Sheraton as the destination and the cabbie let us off there, but then he changed his mind about where he wanted us to fuck. “Let’s go back to my hotel, the Hyatt. I’d like to check in on the coin show to see if anyone’s still dealing and whether there are deals to be had.”

    “OK, you’re the boss,” I said.

    “And you’d best remember that,” he said glowering at me, leaving me wondering if he was mugging or was letting his guard down and showing me something more sinister underneath. And, actually, I got aroused by a little bit of cruelty. When he’d slapped me on the butt, my shaft had gone to full staff. “Let’s walk. It’s just across the river on the North Columbus Drive bridge,” he said. “Maybe we could walk along the river over there.”

    Something in the way he looked at me made me hesitate on that. “This probably wouldn’t be a good time at night for that,” I said, and, not giving him an opportunity to override me, I hopped in a cab that had just pulled up to the hotel entrance and dispensed a couple of drunks. He seemed keyed up and grouchy as we took the short ride over to the Hyatt, where he perked up a bit to find a couple of tables still open at the coin show and a few bargains, or so he said, to be had at that time of night.

    Up in his room, he fucked the shit out of me, punishing me, it seems, for overriding him about the cab to the hotel. I could tell he didn’t like to be disobeyed. He was in shape and vigorous. He manhandled me like he didn’t that afternoon, slapping me around a bit, forcing me into taxing positions without taking my pleas into account, and pounding, pounding, pounding me with his thick shaft without mercy. There had been a change in Shooter. In the afternoon, the sex had been more playful and he’d been solicitous of my needs. Now he seemed angry, on the edge, and it was all about him—and all about him taking it from me.

    He had me on all fours on the bed and was mounted on my ass, crouching over me on bent legs, with his feet planted in the mattress and his hands painfully grasping my waist and holding me place, and stroking my channel in long, powerful thrusts, as I moaned and cried out in his overpowering grasp that I looked on the top of the nightstand and started to hyperventilate. His holster was hanging from the chairback again, but something had been added now. There was a metal cylinder on the top of the nightstand. I was sure it was a silencer.

    What in the fuck did Shooter need a gun with a silencer tonight? The realization flooded in that the nickname “Shooter” very likely didn’t have anything to do with liquor shot glasses. And just maybe the man came across as a thug because that was exactly what he was. Maybe he was walking around with a gun holster in his arm pit because he planned to use it. Maybe he’d gotten angry earlier because I wouldn’t take a solitary walk along the river with him. I had no fucking idea why he’d off me—I was giving him everything he demanded of me—but I didn’t have time or the energy to give it a lot of thought.

    After he’d shot off and pushed me over on my side, he rolled off the bed, saying, “Stay right there for another round of it. I gotta piss,” and stumbled off to the bedroom.

    I was up and out of the bed like a jack rabbit, collecting and pulling on clothes, and was out of the hotel room and starting down the stairs by the elevators within seconds. I didn’t have time to wait for an elevator. I grabbed a cab at the hotel entrance and was back at the Sheraton fast enough that I was sure I was several minutes ahead of Shooter if he was coming after me. I probably was imagining it all, but better safe than sorry.

    The phone rang while I was throwing my stuff together in my suitcase. I didn’t answer it, and I was out of the room, catching the elevator before deciding to take the stairs down to the lobby, I stopped the elevator on the third floor and got out. I took the stairs from there, taking a peek out of the stairwell door across from the elevators when I got to the lobby floor.

    Shooter was standing in front of the elevators, cellphone in hand. He looked royally pissed. I could see the slight bulge of the gun holster at his armpit under his suit jacket—and the line of the silencer cylinder in his jacket pocket. He’d had the presence of mind to come armed when he was trying to track me down.

    I waited until he got in an elevator and the door closed before emerging from the stairwell. I walked across the lobby and out the hotel entrance doors. There was a cab pulled up at the entrance, but I didn’t take it. I hoofed my way down a long block of North Park Drive to where it spilled into East Illinois and flagged a cab there. It took me straight to Amtrak’s Union Station back across the river and south. The cabbie had the radio on to the news, and that’s where events started to make sense. The president had named his nominee for a seat on the Supreme Court. It was Hamilton Lee. So, Ham wasn’t really at the end of his career line, with a “who cares what people think?” lifetime tenure. He was wrangling for a greater job, one that would only happen after closer scrutiny of his private life.

    I was fucked in more ways than one. Had this all been a setup toward me not being a loose end in Ham’s life?

    I had to hide out at Chicago’s train station until the evening to take the overnight Capitol Limited to Washington, D.C., and then the Carolinian to Richmond. I didn’t dare use my plane ticket. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. I just knew that my life was in turmoil—and maybe in danger. I was waiting at the Chicago train station long enough to calm down and to start doing some reasoning, all prompted because the morning papers came out. The photo of the president announcing the nomination of Ham to the Supreme Court at a White House rose garden press conference made it all real to me. Ham’s beaming wife and children were standing behind him in the photo. Ham obviously had known for weeks that this was in the works.

    Why was I in Chicago when all of this was happening? For that matter, why wasn’t Ham in Chicago if he had a lecture to give at Northwestern University? The train station had Wi-Fi and Northwestern had good Internet pages. None of them referred to a planned lecture by a U.S. Court of Appeals justice, though. I found the telephone number for an events office and called, even though I knew the office was closed. Sometimes the voice mail system for such offices gave you a rundown on coming events. This one did. No such lecture was scheduled, let alone had been canceled.

    Who knew I’d be at the Sheraton? Ham and no one else. It was just a little bit too convenient that Shooter was there, in the bar, to pick me up after Ham let me know he wasn’t coming. Ham couldn’t have trusted me and the commitment he thought I’d made if he thought I’d so easily be picked up. But I had to laugh at that. Shooter had easily picked me up. Ham would have been justified in his lack of trust. And if he didn’t trust what I’d do, he probably couldn’t trust what I’d say if reporters got to me. A reporter, in fact, had gotten to me. And he’d laid me too. I’d let any good-looking guy lay me.

    Where was it Shooter said he was from? Washington, D.C. And even more too coincidental, Shooter had the “in” with me on an interest in coin collecting. Who knew I collected coins, and did so only casually so that it wasn’t something I talked to everyone about? Abe, of course. He’d introduced me to coin collecting. But Ham had been in the apartment and had seen the framed coins and commented on them. Only Abe and Ham knew about that aspect of my life.

    I trusted Abe with my life.

    I had to face it. With Ham’s Supreme Court nomination, I’d suddenly become an inconvenient secret. But he didn’t know that the press was already on to us. Would I be any safer if that came out in the press? Maybe.

    But could I just give him up? Didn’t I owe him the opportunity to show how this was all just me being hysterical? He deserved an opportunity to explain his side of it, didn’t he?

    Back in Richmond on Sunday evening, I checked into a hotel near the train station rather than going back to the apartment. I tried calling Ham on the phone, but the dedicated cellphone he used with me had been disconnected and his office wouldn’t put me through when I wouldn’t identify who I was. I went to work Monday morning, not knowing what I should do and whether I really was in danger. A bunch of us were sent over to the capitol building where the vice president was coming down from Washington to give out some awards to first responders to a hurricane that recently had gone through the mid-Atlantic.

    There, in back of the vice president, as part of his bodyguard contingent, stood Shooter—Craig Scott. I don’t think he saw me before I was able to slip away. I returned to the apartment, which was only a couple of blocks away from the capitol building, and quickly packed a couple of bags—for a long stay. I’d go to Gum Springs and to Abe Johnson at least initially. I should have at least a couple of days there before whoever wanted to get rid of me discovered a connection between the old black man and me. I’d have to figure out what to do from there. Suddenly I wasn’t just some young law clerk nobody would care about.

    On the way out of the apartment, I took the business card the Washington Post reporter had left off the kitchen counter. I had options.


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


  • This Doesn’t End in Suicide

    McKyle didn’t know his name. It could have been something ghetto like Quintavious or simple like John. McKyle didn’t need to know him, he just needed to feel him and since this would be his very last time ever, it mattered not the name.

    In a room full of pretty, drunk, weed smoking ponies of various shades of brown stomping and swaying to hip hop music his chosen horse stood still. Was he bored or was he aware that such a stunning work of art did not require movement to be coveted and admired?

    McKyle made his way over to him. He didn’t ask his name; instead, he leaned in close and whispered to the beautiful stranger “I want you to be my last.” 

    Drunk off Hennessey, stoned off weed, and thoroughly horny, the stranger accepted McKyle’s hand without pondering his statement.

    McKyle dropped twenty dollars onto the table by the door and took a couple of condoms from the fishbowl. 

    They were instantly flooded with strobe lights when they entered the otherwise dark room. Strobe lights flashed red, purple, blue, and green over their bodies, against the walls and onto the dried cum stained sheets on the full-sized bed in the middle of the room. Did it matter that the sheets weren’t fresh? This was after all his last time. In the process of removing his clothes

    McKyle heard his pocket rattle and contemplated how many pills it would take. As long as they did the job; did it really matter? The exact amount was as irrelevant as the pretty man’s name. He needed the man to fuck him, he needed the pills to kill him; the specifics weren’t of necessity.

    Oh! The sight of him naked was breath taking. Oh! There was no kissing, no caressing no forelay just, Oh!

    The circular motion of the stranger’s hips under the strobe light was as mentally stimulating to McKyle as the deep probing of the stranger’s cock into the walls of his stomach was physically appeasing. Had he put the condom on? Did it even matter?This was; after all, the last time.

    Scared to do so, but too enraptured not to, McKyle, wrapped his arms around the stranger, then his legs.

    From the deep within the stranger’s soul escaped a moan. A moan that McKyle recognized oh to well. The moan of a black man in need of intimacy from another. A moan derived from after hearing you’re too black/ not black enough/ broke/not attractive/not masculine enough/ some black man, some benevolent brother, cleaves unto you and for a while you are under the illusion that you are good enough; that you are enough.

    But the illusion always dissolves once the nuts are busted, showers taken, clothes put back on and promises made to stay in touch or possibly become more serious are broken. McKyle had experienced it all so many times, so this was the last time.

    Unexpected, but grateful none the less, McKyle, welcomed the stranger’s kiss. He yielded to being positioned onto his stomach and spread his legs wide for the stranger.

    Maybe he imagined it, but McKyle could’ve sworn the stranger whispered in his ear, “This doesn’t end in suicide.”

    He felt the stranger’s arm tighten around his neck. His head was yanked back as the crook of the stranger’s arm crushed his Adam’s apple and stifled his air supply.

    McKyle fought to free himself but the stranger’s weight was too much upon him, his cock was too deep inside him and the grip around his throat was much, much too tight.

    He yielded to his fate. The illusion was already gone as the stranger emptied himself inside McKyle. Had the stranger known all along the McKyle wanted to die? Did it even matter. This was, after all, his lasttime.

    With one swift motion Mckyle’s neck was snapped causing him to spew blood across the headboard before him. The quick flash of blue from the strobe light made it appear purple for a second. Everything for McKyle went black forever

    . The stranger redressed, returned to the room where the ponies drunk off spirits, high off weed and other substances stumbled about with less grace. The stranger maneuvered his way through them, found the door and exited into the night.

    The End


    I really missed sharing my work with you guys. I am so sorry  for the long periods between shares. Please leave feedback and let me know what you think. Your opinions: good, bad, or indifferent are welcomed and appreciated.


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  • My Cashfag

    Tom’s POV

    I got to work seconds before it being late for me again. Everything at work had gotten bad, I hadn’’t been demoted or fired yet, but I was sure I was on the brink of it. I tried to adjust my tie one more time before entering my office, knowing I still looked like a filthy mess, because yet again I didn’t have time shower. I rubbed my temples trying to think of a way to get out of work before 5. I’ve done the kid excuse way too many times and I simply can’t get a horrible flu every week, can I?

    As I was letting in a deep breathe of air my assistant knocked on my door. She smiled at me the way she always did when I looked like a useless little fag, which I guess I always did.

    “Hey Tom, someone left you this package.” She brightly said while she casually shook the white box in her hand. “I’ll leave this here” She said setting it down on my desk.

    “Oh and don’t forget you have your meeting at three today, from what I heard, it’s going to be a long one.” She said while giving a sly nod.

    I nodded back “Thank you Kathy” I said blankly and immediately went for the box.

    As I lifted the top something black and shiny reflected the fluorescent lights of the office. I pick it up and soon realize what it was. A rubbery leather black mask, that covered the whole face. A price tag was attached to the mask read “$500”. I soon remembered that most of my office walls were covered in windows, so I thew the mask into my desk drawer and opened the envelop that came with the mask.

    * I decided that I want you here at 4:30, Wear this mask.
   It was pretty expensive but when you consider that it’ll give me a good time for     an hour, it’s worth the money, right? *

    I felt a tent emerge in my pants and felt sweat start to drip from the back of my neck, the sheer thought of being on my knees with that mask, naked in my garage made the blood in my body rush through me in excitement. How was I suppose to get out a half an hour earlier? It had to be a solid excuse if anyone was to believe me. And so the last fearful thought in my mind emerged and I decided I had to do it. I opened Google Chrome and searched up ways to make myself sick, at least for a few hours. After about five minutes of searching I found a what was said to be a quick vomit inducing juice. So I post-maided all the ingredients and prepared it myself.

    I looked down at the dubious drink that was in the cup in front of me, I looked at in disgust thinking of all the gross things that were in there. I pinched my nose and drank the whole thing, the disgusting flavor going down my throat only made the little bulge in my pants grow. I was disgusting and useless, I deserved to drink nothing but disgusting things such as this. I swallowed the last bit of it and immediately felt my stomach twist. I sat down and tried to hold it as long as I could. I looked down at my watch, it was only 1:30.

    “Fuck…” I uttered through my breath, I was actually planning on getting some work done, but I was too excited to wait. I finally decided that the nauseating sensation was too much for me and I ran immedietly to the bathroom, only to puke all the contents of the juice on the front carpet.

    “Oh my god, are you okay?!” The receptionist yelled in disgust.

    Kathy rushed over to me and asked the same question, I answered with a small nod. “You look completely pale, I think you’ll need to go home, I’ll try my best to reschedule the meeting.” I weakly nodded and she helped me pick myself up. I tried my best to hold in my smile as I left the building, with the best excuse ever.

    I got to the bus stop and waited for mine to get here. I was excited to finally shower for my master. Phil was just the most amazing man ever, he was the only person who made me feel the way I deserved to feel, which was like a worthless little fag that’s only duty is to serve their master.

    After showering and cleaning myself up I positioned myself in the garage, just like he wanted me to be. I zipped the mask up, noticing that there really was no way to get it off myself. I shut my eyes in anticipation, my boner already hard, just the anticipation was killing me, waiting for him to show up made everything all the better. I knew that my time was nothing to my master, my time is meaningless, and he reminds me every time he makes me wait, sometimes for hours…

    Finally, after what seemed like an hour of waiting, I heard someone step into the garage. “Oh you managed to do this right.” Phil barked. “Did you see the price on the mask? Such a small price to pay to have your master treat you like this” I felt my mind rush to the payments I had to make that month, but I was interrupted by his strong voice.

    “That mask makes you look rather useless, don’t you think, not even a 500 dollar mask can make you look better?” I nodded as I got even harder, every time he mentioned that number I felt myself throb in arousal. “What are we going to do, do you want me to touch you?” He asked almost in a whisper. Everything about his voice made me melt, I could never get enough, he was perfect, so I nodded again.

    “Oh you do want me to touch you?” He paused. “I don’t know, I’m kind of getting tired of you’re little fag body.” He yelled. I moaned in response. “I don’t think you deserve to get touched today, even if you did do everything right today.” I felt him walking around me in circles. “I guess you do deserved… something.”

    I felt Phil walk away and slowly come back, setting something next to me. “Look at you, all hard for your master, you’re useless, you could never resist me, could you?” I shook my head and felt a sudden pinch at my nipple. I flinched at the pain and felt another metal clip pinch at my other. I bite my lip in both pleasure and pain.

    “So what we’re going to do is, I’m going to turn on this shock machine and you’ll get a small, then medium, then large amount of voltage to your nipples.” I could hear his smile through his voice. “I don’t really feel like waiting all night for you to get to the highest voltage, so you’re going to stay here until sunrise, only thinking of me.” He laughed, mockingly petting my head, but to me it was like heaven.

    I heard a click and suddenly my nipples were on fire, receiving what seemed to be already high voltage levels. I moaned and cried quietly under my breath. My dick was harder than ever. I heard foot steps walk away from me and then a sudden close at the door and that’s when I knew I was in for a long night.


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


  • Every faggot needs a Man to serve

    I’ll never get tired of mentioning it, ‘cause is the truth; I’m perfect. And I’m pretty fucking sure everyone knows it. Every silly dumb chick that I bang after a party, every man that falls for me… Well, they’re not men. You can’t call that way those little submissives faggots that are born to give everything they own to a real man. To someone like me.

    Deep inside of me, I’ve always known that. But it wasn’t after I started to took away everything from the first fag [just as he deserved] that I started searching for that kind of so called men. Unfulfilled and sad faggots that craved to serve. And you would be surprised of how many of them are waiting around for a REAL man to show up and make them realize where they belong: serving Me.

    Don’t misunderstand me; I love woman. A fat, juicy pussy is always welcome. But there was something about taking everything away from those fags and making them realize that they are nothing, that they need to worship and be humiliated in order to be happy… Something about that gave me a boner. I can’t help it.

    That’s how I met Jamie. Searching.

    JAMIE. He even has a faggot name.

    I met him at the gym [you would be surprised to know how many submissives little boys go there just to admire studs and have material to jerk off later]. He looked like an average rich and “handsome” fuckboy, but I knew he wasn’t. But not just because of the way he looked at me. Jamie… He just had that special thing in his eyes that BEGGED to be treated like the scum he was.

    “You’re doing it wrong. Stick out your butt  in order to get the results you want.” I told him one day, out of the blue. We were lifting weights, and he wasn’t doing it wrong at all, but I wanted to see his reaction… What I said could have an… Interesting meaning to a fag, and I was sure he was going to get it.

    He didn’t disappoint me; his pretty face turned red, and he did what I told him to do. He didn’t even look at me in the eye, but I know he could tell that I was pleased.

    “Good job, boy.” Again, he didn’t answer, but his body did.

    Jamie looked ridiculous, but he kept the position. He was, in a way, humiliating himself in front of the whole gym, and I’m sure he could tell by the way everyone was looking at him… But he probably liked it. I’m sure the poor fag was too busy trying to keep his dick from showing after receiving an order from such a hot stud like me.

    “Hey, boy.” I called him after a while. He immediately looked at me, just as a good trained puppy would. “Be good and buy for me a new towel. This one is filthy.”  

    By the expression his face adopted, I’m sure he was trying very hard not to cum in his pants as I spoke to him. I didn’t give him money to buy what I wanted, and he didn’t ask. He just dropped the weights and he almost run to do what I ordered.

    When he came back, he didn’t look me in the eyes when he offered me my fresh towel. I took my time before accepting it; put the weights away, drank some water… And he just waited for me. Again, like a little well trained puppy.

    “What’s your name, boy?”

    “Jamie.” He spoke with a very soft voice, way different that how I’ve heard him talk before.

    “Well, Jamie. You should do something about what’s growing in your pants just now. Not all real man are so considerate with boys that get a boner while watching them work out.” I told him as I clapped his shoulder. His little faggot face went full red, and I’m sure his little faggot cock went even harder. “For you.” I threw him my used towel, the one that was wet with my sweat, and his eyes glanced as he catched it. “Tomorrow, boy.”

    And I just walked away.

    I knew he would be back tomorrow at the same hour. I knew he loved the little taste I gave him of how It feels serving a real man, and that probably his dick would end up sore after reliving the moment in the comfort of his bed. I knew mine would.


    If you’re here… Well, there must be a reason. So you might as well read my other stories.

    Feel welcomed to contact me to [email protected]

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  • The Boys In The Band

    When I went to college in nineteen-seventy-eight, I booked into a gentleman’s hostel. I was unable to secure accommodation in the university residence due to my late application. This, however, didn’t faze me and the hostel was vastly better than I had expected. Of course, without en-suite bathrooms, there were two ablution areas on each floor of the establishment. The only private ‘convenience’ was that each room contained a basin where one could at least brush your teeth.

    On my first day in my new abode, having arrived at noon, I had lunch at twelve-thirty and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the food. Thereafter, I made my way up the road to discover an old-fashioned movie theatre. I had always been an avid movie fan and was prepared to give my left arm in order to visit a cinema.

    The movie that they were showing at two p.m. was entitled: The Boys in The Band. The strapline for this movie: ‘Definitely not a musical,’ had me totally intrigued. Although the movie had first been released eight years before, being the movie fanatic that I had always been, I bought a ticket and entered the auditorium. Little did I realize as I did so, that I was about to watch one of the iconic early gay movies.

    Once the movie started I was completely gobsmacked. It was about a gathering of gay men who meet at a friend’s apartment for his birthday party. One of the gifts that he received was a rent boy who arrived with a huge bow around his neck. In the midst of all of this, a straight friend from the birthday boy’s past also makes an unexpected appearance. It was a quite a heavy drama but it did have a few lighter moments. I, however, was riveted by the film.

    I will refrain from relating the entire story, suffice to tell you about an anecdote that almost had me convulsing with mirth. One of the guys who arrived at the party had brought along a contributory dish. When one of the queens at the party bitchily said that she wouldn’t even consider allowing his food to cross her lips, the chef responded by saying that after all ‘she’ had formerly had in ‘her’ mouth, his food was definitely nothing to worry about. I almost giggled myself to death, having just been exposed to my first bit of bitchy gay banter.

    The impact of that movie had an incredible effect on me, and the isolation I had always felt thanks to my very conservative upbringing, began to evaporate.

    I had naturally had a few sexual encounters with guys prior to this, but none were really noteworthy. In fact, my first attempt at anal sex had been infinitely forgettable and painful.

    After returning to ‘The Gentleman’s Hostel,’ as it was named, I encountered many of the fellow residents. Upon doing so, I discovered the name of the hostel to be somewhat of a misnomer. Although there were a handful of university students residing in the building, the vast majority of residents occupying the rooms were tradesmen. They were either from the local Technical college or telecommunication technicians, undertaking upgrading courses.

    In fact, just under half of the residents inhabiting the place were telecommunication employees. With a telecommunication head office a few blocks down the road, their head office had an ongoing accommodation contract with the hostel.

    These guys were rough, tough, and thoroughly blue-collar. Let’s make that a dark shade of blue!

    In the dining room on my first evening, I did my best not to blatantly stare at the other ‘inmates.’ At the table next to me there was a lanky and skanky guy who constantly glared in my direction. I had grown my hair fairly long over the previous year and with no facial hair, I must have looked like a real sissy to him. Given the motley appearance of the guys in the dining room, it felt like I had the words, ‘pussy-boy’ tattooed on my forehead.

    As I finished my dinner, ‘Skanky’ was also done and sipping his coffee. I had also begun to feel slightly uncomfortable because his stares had become rather blatant. To my horror, when I got up to leave he followed me out of the dining room.

    When I arrived at the elevator and pressed the button, he took up station next to me. By now, his eyes were literally boring into me. After we entered the elevator once it had arrived, he asked, “What floor are you on?”

    “Fourth,” I answered.

    I then watched as his thick icky index finger pressed the buttons for the fourth and fifth floors.

    As the elevator began to move upward, he looked at me and asked, “So, are you a boy or a girl?”

    From the smirk on his face, I could see that his rhetorical question was a source of great amusement to him.

    I simply smiled awkwardly in reply, nervously not wishing to engage him.

    When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor he blocked my exit, by extending his arm to hold the elevator door open and prevent it from closing.

    “What’s your name pretty-boy?” he asked.

    “Toby,” I replied.

    “I’m Okie,” he answered, before continuing, “What’s your room number?”

    “Four-zero-three,” I replied with trepidation, before anxiously asking, “Why do you want to know?”

    “Well, I kinda figure that if I don’t get lucky with a bit of pussy at the bar around the corner at night, then you’ll be a perfect backup plan,” Okie replied, with a salacious and menacing grin.

    After letting out a crude chuckle, he removed his arm to allow me to pass by him.

    As I made my way down the passage, I heard his voice from behind me utter, “Keep that pussy of yours warm and ready for me.” His crass sniggers then faded as I heard the elevator door shut.

    When I got to my room I lay on the bed trembling. I had often been bullied by macho straight guys at school, and anxiously worried that this trend would again re-emerge in my new environment. It perplexed me that disgusting straights like him could smell homosexuality from a mile off.

    As I reflected upon the scene in the elevator, I thought about his dirty dungarees and his beanie, which sprouted tufts of unwashed long hair. I recalled the thin strip of facial hair that extended from his bottom lip and three inches off his chin. Above all, I remembered his cigarette breath and the overtly masculine smell of his body odour. Despite all the negatives, however, he was actually good-looking and I inexplicably found myself aroused by the thought of him.

    I was not delusional and fully realized that he was one of those individuals who thrived on amusing themselves at the expense of someone else. Evading him, therefore, would henceforth be a priority in my life. With dinner being served from six to seven-thirty p.m. in the evenings, I would in future avoid the six o’clock rush and only eat at seven, hopefully avoiding Okie.

    When I entered the communal shower area the following morning, I met Alberto. Alberto instantly told me that everyone simply called him Albert.

    Albert had a dark complexion and he was rather hairy. He was thickset, over six-foot-tall, and had a really odd shaped body that seemed rather top-heavy. Although his legs were sturdy, they seemed too small for his huge barrel chest. Albert’s backside was immense, negating the term bubble-butt. The phrase balloon-butt was a far more appropriate description.

    Conventionally, one would definitely not refer to Albert as handsome. His prominent and bushy brow gave him an almost Neanderthal appearance. His nose was thick with two very large round nostrils. Below that, he had very full lips. The lower lip, in fact, was so fat that it almost seemed to droop. Albert also had the habit of running his tongue to and fro across his bottom lip, giving him a somewhat dopey expression. The dark black hair on his head was very short-cropped and he had a substantial five o’clock shadow on his broad face.

    The hair under his arms and above his crotch was extremely bushy. Although his uncut cock did not appear to be too large, it seemed very ample. With all that hair, nevertheless, it was hard to tell. What did blow me away, however, was the size of his balls. His nut-sac was huge and contained two enormous orbs. The skin of this ‘satchel’ was dark and had a shiny blueish hue, due to the strain it took to house his massive nuts.

    Albert had arrived two weeks before and was on a ten-week intensive program at the telecommunications head office. As we showered and chatted, it was as if we had been buddies for years. This was in sharp contrast to my interaction with Okie the evening before. Albert was not married but told me about his girlfriend back home. I also told him about the college degree that I was undertaking.

    Our conversation was effortless and comfortable and the more we spoke, the more I liked him. In fact, I thought he was fuckin’ cute and very sexy.

    Once we had towelled off we headed off in the direction of our rooms. Albert’s room was two bedrooms beyond mine. When I paused to unlock my door he asked, “What’s your poison?”

    Observing my confused look, he quickly added, “What alcohol do you prefer?”

    “Beer… I have an occasional beer,” I responded.

    With a disdainful look on his face, he retorted, “You should learn to drink a man’s drink… I’ll introduce you to rum and Coke,” he countered, authoritatively.

    I simply shrugged acquiescently before he resumed, “After dinner tonight, pop in and I will educate you.”

    “Sure,” I replied.

    That day I thought about the two straight men I had thus far encountered. Unsurprisingly, Albert predominated in my mind. I had ‘bonded’ with him far better than with Okie. Nevertheless, Okie had definitely intrigued me and I couldn’t stop wondering if his ‘threat’ had merely been a bullying tactic, or whether it had contained some substance. I would gladly have engaged with both guys sexually, but simply laughed it off as wishful thinking.

    That evening after I had eaten dinner, as I made my way to my room I paused at Albert’s open door. He immediately invited me in before closing the door. There were two glasses on his desk along with an ice bucket, a bottle of rum, as well as a bottle of Coke. After pouring our drinks he handed me my glass. I have to admit that I didn’t particularly enjoy the taste, but from the way he glugged it down it obviously met with his approval. I, nevertheless, put on an act of pretending to like it, which brought a smile to his face.

    Albert now commenced undressing. When he removed the t-shirt he was wearing he used it to mop the hair under his arms. He then smelled the t-shirt before tossing it onto the bed. Following on that, Albert raised his arms before lowering his head and moving his face from side to side as he sniffed his pits.

    “Fuck, I stink. I could really do with a shower,” he uttered.

    All I could think of saying was, “You smell fine to me.”

    “Don’t you have a sense of smell,” he asked me, chuckling.

    “Seriously… I really don’t think you stink,” I assured him.

    With a mischievous look of his face, Albert swiftly gripped hold of the back of my head with his left hand and before I knew what was happening, my face was firmly pushed into his right armpit. I was in seventh heaven as I ‘pretended’ to try and wriggle free. His arms were so powerful, however, that I was solidly ensconced. An even greater pleasure for me was that as I ‘fought,’ I got to touch his hairy torso.

    After letting go of me, Albert once more chuckled and asked, “So, do you still think I don’t stink?”

    “No, I don’t,” I retorted.

    “Well, then it looks like a second opinion is needed,” he answered.

    Again moving hastily, Albert grabbed hold of my head with his right hand, before firmly clamping my face into his left armpit. As my ‘fighting’ hands again luxuriated in his fur, an impish thought crossed my mind. I wanted to extend my tongue and commence licking him, but I paused momentarily, afraid that I might offend him. Lust won out, however, and simply couldn’t help myself.

    To my amazement and delight, my head was not pushed away as I had feared and if anything, his grip on my head tightened. Reading this as an approving signal from him, I really began to lick his pit voraciously as my hands now commenced caressing his body.

    When Albert finally let go of me our eyes locked. With his large nostril flaring and his tongue animatedly flicking to and fro across his thick bottom lip, his face was ablaze with horniness. Albert then lifted right arm and placed his index finger under my nose. After running his finger down my philtrum, Albert began to place pressure on my closed lips. Instinctively, I parted my lips to allow his finger entry. Albert now leisurely commenced spearing the digit in and out of my mouth.

    Next, his middle finger and then his ring finger also joined in the fray. With drool beginning to trickle off my chin, I unbuttoned and removed my shirt. Albert now lifted his left arm and placed his hand on my shoulder. As I felt him applying downward pressure, I lowered my body onto my knees before him.

    As we continued our eye contact, Albert pushed his underpants down and let them drop to the floor. His erect cock looked larger than I had anticipated and soon it was touching my lips. Upon opening my mouth, Albert very slowly pushed his dick passed my lips. His cock was a perfect fit and the smell of his bushy crotch was sensational. I instantly began to move my head back and forth, to the sounds of delight that started emanating from him.

    Shortly, Albert gently took hold of my head. As his grip tightened, however, he commenced supplying the momentum as he held my head still. With my hands fondling his bulbous backside, I was in a state of total ecstasy as his skull-fucking really got underway. To delightful low groaning sounds from Albert, our heavenly union meandered on for several minutes.

    When I began to sense that his excitement was escalating, he asked, “Do you want me to cum in your mouth?”

    With my mouth filled with cock, I simply nodded my head.

    I was not prepared for what followed and got a shock as I realized that his huge balls were not for show. The deluge from him was unbelievable and I had to swallow as never before.

    Once I had licked his knob thoroughly, I stood up and looked at him. There was a shy, somewhat embarrassed expression on his face. Picking up on this I made an excuse to leave, after informing him that I had homework to do.

    “Don’t forget your drink,” he said, as I made my way to the door.

    As I got to my room I instantly poured the contents of my glass into the basin. I had really not enjoyed the taste of the rum and Coke, and besides, I was still savouring the taste of his delicious spunk.

    It took me a good thirty minutes to get my head around what had just happened. I felt confident that it might happen again, but wondered how long that would take.

    Next, I got busy with my homework and by ten-thirty I had finished all that needed to be done. I then lay on my bed wearing my boxers and commenced reading a prescribed novel. After a few minutes, there was a knock on my door.

    When I opened it Albert stood there smiling at me with a drink in his hand. “I thought you might like a nightcap,” he suggested.

    “No… actually I’m good, thank you,” I replied.

    “Bullshit,” he said playfully, “Give me your glass and I’ll get you a refill.”

    Upon returning from his room, Albert presented my drink to me. After clinking glasses, we both took a sip.

    As we stood looking at one another, Albert’s shy look from earlier returned. “You know… I’ve, I’ve never done anything… like we did earlier… I mean, with a guy,” he stammered.

    Smiling, I ridiculously replied, “Well as they say; ‘you learn something new every day,’”

    “Yeah, you’re right, and I have to admit that I really enjoyed it,” he added, as if he was relieved to get something heavy off his chest.

    “Me too,” I replied.

    Albert then placed his glass on my desk, before performing the same procedure with my drink.

    Next, he moved closer to me and placed his hands on my hips. I watched transfixed as his mouth closed in on my face. As our lips touched a spark of excitement surged through me. Albert now began to ardently kiss me and I responded by placing my arms around his neck, thereby signalling my approval. I was overjoyed that my one regret from our earlier encounter had finally been negated.

    The intimacy of this action thrilled me immensely. I was not foolish enough to believe that our capricious encounter had turned Albert into a homosexual, but I no longer felt like I was merely a spunk depot. As we continued kissing I felt his right hand slip into my boxer shorts and before long, his middle finger was actively encircling my pucker.

    With this demonstration of intent, my mind flashed back to my ‘defloration’ nightmare. I remembered vividly how that idiot had simply rammed his dick into me, followed by the most excruciating pain. I recalled jumping up screaming, before telling him to fuck-off. Above all, I recollected how disgusted he had been with me before departing, after berating me for; ‘acting like a fuckin’ baby.’

    When Albert finally moved his head back and looked into eyes, he asked, “Will you let me fuck you?”

    After answering in the affirmative, I nervously I began to explain my former ordeal to him.

    “Jesus, Toby, I promise I would never hurt you,” he assured me sincerely.

    Before I could answer, he kissed me again.

    Next, with a naughty look on his face, he said, “I just figured that if one is going to learn something new… well, you may as well go all the way.” Roars of laughter followed from both of us.

    I had no doubt that as I gay man, in future anal sex would have to become part of my everyday life. One bad experience did not mean that this avenue was forever off-limits to me. In addition to that, after the evening I had just experienced, I figured that this would be the perfect time to reach that summit because I actually trusted Albert.

    In a short while, I found myself on the bed on my stomach, before Albert mounted my body and placed his dick in my crack. When he commenced rubbing his cock in the crevice, he whispered, “My knob produces a lot of natural lubrication.”

    The sensuality of him kissing my neck as he ebbed and flowed about me was incredible and as he had foretold, I shortly felt the abundant slickness of his precum.

    Next, Albert lifted his backside and I could feel him guiding his dick-head towards my portal. A feeling of nervous excitement overcame me as I felt the pressure of his cock nudging at my manhole. When his glans popped into my hole the discomfort was far less than I had expected. As his full infiltration persisted a few moments later, to my amazement the soreness dissipated completely. I felt like I had arrived at an idyllic destination after an arduous journey, and the warmth and muskiness of his body had me whimpering and simpering in ecstasy.

    As Albert leisurely thrust into me, he asked, “Are you okay?”

    “Jesus, I’ve never felt anything better,” I replied panting.

    “Cool, because I am really enjoying this,” he groaned.

    After what seemed like a never-ending journey of bliss, Albert lifted off me and coaxed my body toward the end of the bed. With me in a doggy position, his powerful hands clamped onto my waist after he had re-entered me. As he commenced spearing my butt in a more animated fashion, I took hold of my dick and started tugging on it.

    “Let me know when you’re getting close,” he advised.

    I listened carefully to the sounds he was making to try and discern when he was getting close to cumming. When I finally was sure that he was about to ejaculate, I frantically began to wank in order to coordinate our rapture. My timing was spot-on and soon we both started shooting our loads.

    As we stood sipping our drinks afterward, I was hoping that he would stay a while longer, in fact, all night long. Sadly, this did not happen and shortly he returned to his room.

    As I lay on my bed in the afterglow with a well-filled arse, I was totally smitten with him. I had to remind myself that he was essentially straight and that I really shouldn’t get my hopes up. This fact, regrettably, was clearly demonstrated the following evening.

    After dinner the next day, which happened to be a Friday evening, as I passed by Albert’s room I knocked at the door. Upon opening his door, it was clear that he was going out that evening. He told me that a buddy had arranged a get-together with two ladies and that he was really looking forward to his night out on the town.

    As you would imagine, this wasn’t exactly music to my ears. With a brave smile, nevertheless, I wished him well and said that I hoped he would have an enjoyable time.

    Back in my room, the term that Okie had used two nights before popped into my head; ‘backup plan.’ I wasn’t upset with Albert but just mildly disappointed, having fully grasped that all I would ever be to him was a backup plan.

    After finishing all my homework that evening, I lay on my bed and continued reading the novel from the night before. I was stunned at eleven o’clock when I heard a knock on my door. Imagining that things had not gone to plan for Albert I hastily open the door. To my astonishment, Okie stood before me.

    On the plus side, he looked far more respectable than two nights before. Without his beanie, his curly mop of hair looked clean and he was clothing appeared fairly respectable. On the negative side, however, he was very drunk. In fact, so much so that he had to lean against the doorframe to stop his body from falling over.

    “I’m fuckin’ drunk, let me in,” he babbled.

    “Can’t I rather help you to your room?” I nervously asked.

    “No… just let me in so that I can fuckin’ sit down,” he slurred.

    Okie sat down on the side of my bed, thankfully facing the basin in my room, which was located in the corner. I did not have a bucket and reckoned that if he was going to puke, at least the basin was a stride away.

    Next, Okie attempted to remove his shoes and socks.

    “Jesus, pretty-boy, give me a fuckin’ hand,” he barked.

    In a state of total confusion, I assisted him. Perplexed as I was, I have to admit that when I looked at his large and beautiful feet, a thrill of excitement went through me. When that was done he stood up off the bed in an unsteady fashion and told me to also stand up. With his hands on my shoulders, Okie now instructed me to remove his trousers.

    My bewilderment now really escalated. In all honesty, I really wasn’t into having a scene with a very drunk guy. The other concern that also dawned on me was that it was beginning to look like I was about to give up my bed for the night.

    When his jeans and shirt had been removed, Okie got on my bed and lay down on his back. After I had collected his clothing off the floor and hung it on the chair at my desk. As I was doing so I heard him begin to snore.

    I stood looking at him with a multitude of thoughts going through my mind. Firstly, he was more handsome than I had realized. Okie was also not as lithe as I had anticipated and he had a beautifully proportioned body. Unlike Albert, his skin was very light and he was also far less hairy than Albert. What really intrigued me, however, was the bulge in his well-filled underpants.

    After gently retrieving one of the pillows on the bed, I moved toward the comfy chair that was located next to the basin, resigned to the fact that I would have to sleep in an upright position.

    As I sat staring at Okie I wondered what the fuck he was doing in my room. Had he come to my room to yank my chain? I figured that if that had been on his mind, he far too drunk to do so successfully. He both scared and excited me, but I was very wary of him.

    While all these thoughts were going through my mind I noticed movement in his underpants. I had read that all men have multiple erections when they are sleeping and I was now getting first-hand proof. I watched mesmerized as I observed the bulge elongating. Already horny, my lust now began to escalate rapidly. All I wanted to do is kneel next to the bed and rip his underpants down, before sucking his knob. Naturally, I restrained myself, afraid that I might end up with a fat lip or a blue eye.

    After a few minutes, I then watched as the bulge began to soften and return to its former state. Being rather tired, it did not take long before I found my eyelids grow heavy prior to drifting off to sleep.

    When I awoke an hour later, I did a double take at the sight before me. Okie had obviously awoken during this period and removed his underpants, which lay on the floor before me. As I looked at his genitals that were on display between his slightly open legs, I was captivated by his magnificent dick. It was longer than Albert’s and had the most incredible foreskin I had ever seen. The puckered tube that extended off the front of his dick-head by more than an inch was breath-taking. The pale skin of his dick looked flawless. Although his nut-sac was not in Albert’s league, it was nevertheless, very impressive.

    As I observed him lustfully, his cock began to stir and I could see that he was getting another erection. I watched entranced his dick began to straighten and lift and his cock-head commenced occupying more of the ample foreskin. As his knob lifted more and more it starting twitching, before suddenly, flopping backward onto his stomach.

    I was so turned on that I stuck my right hand in my boxers and began rolling my fingers over the shaft of my cock. I was so overexcited that I started shooting a load within a minute of stimulating myself. After using the hand towel to mop up the jizz off my stomach, I once more returned my gaze to Okie. Shortly his dick started deflating, and thereafter, I dozed off to sleep once more.

    I was awoken by a noise at two-thirty. As I opened my eyes he was sitting on the side of the bed rubbing his eyes.

    “Are you okay?” I asked.

    “Yeah, I can’t believe that I got so pissed,” he answered.

    Next, he stood up and moved to the basin. Okie then lobbed his cock into the basin and placed his hands above his head, with his hands on either side of the thin mirror above the basin. Before long I heard his piss splashing in the basin.

    I was dying to have a proper look but very guarded to do so. Then, after turning his face slightly he looked at me from under his arm.

    “Stop pretending you don’t want to look,” he said, before adding, “Why don’t you sit up straight and take a proper look.”

    I just sat still, feeling like a deer that had been caught in the headlights.

    “Are you fucking deaf?” he questioned brusquely.

    His tone left me in no doubt that I had been given an order and so I complied instantly.

    As I watched the glorious sight before me in the basin, he asked, “So, what do you think of my cock?”

    Choosing my words carefully, I replied, “It’s very impressive.”

    After uttering a low chuckle, he said, “You have no idea how many cunts this pussy-pleaser had pleasured.”

    I laughed inwardly at the crude alliteration as I watched the stream slow, and then stop completely.

    Okie then pushed his upper body away from the wall without shaking his dick, and then moved to directly before me. Instinctively, I leaned back into the chair as he did so.

    “What the fuck are you doing?” he barked. “Sit up straight and don’t you fuckin’ dare move your head back again.”

    After a pause, he added, “Now… take a really good look pussy-boy, because I know that’s what you want to do,” he concluded, derisively.

    Several moments later, he asked, “Do you want to touch this knob?”

    Once more I decided to play it safe, before answering, “Do you want me to touch it?”

    “Lift your left hand and place palm upright, with your fingers point toward me,” he instructed contemptuously.

    Okie now placed his cock on my hand. I watched in wonder as his dick began to stiffen. Once fully erect, there was still a half-inch of his overhang unoccupied by his cock-head. I almost convulsed with excitement as I observed a drop of piss falling onto my wrist.

    “So, what do you now think about my knob?” he uttered.

    I was beyond playing it safe any longer and simply said, “It’s fuckin’ awesome.”

    “That’s what I like to hear… fuckin’ respect!” Okie stated with satisfaction.

    As I sat looking at the dick before me for several moments, Okie again spoke. “I suppose you would you like to suck my knob, pussy-boy?”

    “Yes,” I replied, in a scarcely audible whisper.

    Next, moving his body slightly backward, Okie ordered me onto my knees before him. He then took hold of his cock and told me to keep my lips closed. Okie now commenced running the wet hood of his dick to and fro across my lips.

    As he did this, he said, “I fuckin’ hope you know how to suck a cock,”

    “I’ll do my best,” I uttered, softly.

    “There are two things you should know. Firstly, my knob will be going all the way in and so you had better learn to relax your throat muscles. Secondly, if I see any tooth marks on my dick afterward, I am going to punish you severely,” he said assertively.

    Although the girth of his cock did not concern me, it was, nevertheless, much longer than Albert’s dick. I had never had my throat penetrated before and I was worried about how I would cope.

    Next, Okie swivelled his hips from side to side and commenced slapping my face with his knob. As he did so, I could feel the moisture from his wet foreskin on my cheeks.

    Once this was done, his next words almost made me giggle. “Open up for the choo-choo train.”

    His analogy instantly made me think of a three-year-old sitting in their feeding chair, while being coaxed to receive a spoonful of food.

    After I opened my mouth, Okie started tapping my tongue with the tip of his cock.

    Thereafter he began sliding his knob forward, and as he reached the inevitable barrier, he again spoke. “Just relax your fuckin’ throat and start swallowing.”

    I did not take to the procedure very successfully at first, but after five attempts I eventually manage to accommodate his cock in my throat. In fairness to Okie, he did not become frustrated and kept encouraging me. What also amazed me was that he finally began to refer to me by my name, Toby.

    I cannot say that the invasion of my throat was very comfortable at first, but as we got into a steady rhythm I really began to enjoy it. With a tight grip on my head, he entered my throat completely, and then held still for a few moments, before pulling his dick out slightly and allowing me to breathe.

    As I became more comfortable he slowly commenced intensifying his thrusting to our mutual pleasure. When he finally unloaded, I was in seventh heaven and savoured his delicious spunk greedily.

    Afterward, I was rather disappointed when he began to get dressed.

    “I’m fuckin’ tired and need to get some more sleep,” he dismissively announced. Without as much as a thank you or a goodbye, he then departed.

    Having finally reclaimed my bed, I finally lay down and started thinking about the past two days. Exciting as they had been I fully realized that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Okie and Albert were essentially two straight guys who were scratching a bi-curious itch. Exhausted, I fell asleep.

    The following afternoon when I heard a knock on my door, I assumed that it was Albert. Upon opening the door, however, Okie entered my room with being invited in.

    “Take your clothes off, I’m fucking horny,” he stated matter of factly, as he began to strip.

    Shortly, I was lying on my bed on my back, with my head tilted off the bottom.

    “Now, let’s see what you remember from yesterday,” Okie said, as he commenced pushing his dick into my mouth.

    I did gag twice initially, but thankfully, I soon settled in. As he really got going, far more intensely than the previous evening, I gagged once more. This time he wasn’t so patient and as if to teach me a lesson, gripped hold of my nipples and really gave them a solid tweaking. Agonizing as this was, it inexplicably turned me on incredibly.

    Next, after a far more intensive skull-fucking, Okie unloaded a few minutes later.

    When he was done I got off the bed and reached down to retrieve my underpants.

    “What the fuck are you doing?” he barked.

    “I thought you were finished,” I sheepishly answered.

    “I’m fuckin’ done when I say I’m done,” he growled.

    Okie then sat on the comfy chair and told me to hand him the shorts he had been wearing. He then removed a cigar from the pocket and lit it. As he sat puffing away, I retrieved an ashtray from my windowsill and placed it next to him. I then sat opposite him on my bed.

    As he polluted my room we did not speak. It was now perfectly clear that he was into total domination and that I had been claimed as his fuck-bunny. Exhilarated as I was by him, I thought of Albert’s far more loving and softer approach. The two were the complete antithesis of one another, not only in looks but in demeanour as well.

    A while later he sneeringly told me that he also had a cigar for me.

    “No thanks, I don’t smoke,” I answered.

    “Not one of these,” he replied holding up the cigar he was smoking in his hand. “One of these,” he said, pointing at his cock. “Get over here and start puffing.”

    Pushing his hips forward in the chair he then opened his legs wider. Obediently, I knelt before him and started stimulating his dick to erection. Once his cock was hard, my head bobbed up and down on his knob to gratifying sounds of pleasure from him. Every now and then he placed his hand on the back of my head and held it down firmly on his dick.

    After placing his unfinished cigar in the ashtray, he then told me to get up assume the doggy position with my knees on the bed. Okie did not dally and immediately slammed his cock into my arse. I yelped as I had a flashback to my first anal encounter. His vicelike hands on my hips, nevertheless left me in no doubt that he was going to fuck me solidly. Fortunately, my aching nipples had adequately prepared me for this eventuality.

    The harder he fucked me the more I began to gasp. “Yeah, gasp pussy-boy, I like the sound of a squealing bitch.”

    Okie was going so ballistic that I had to use both my hands to anchor my body, negating the opportunity for me to pleasure myself. As his urgency escalated he began to growl. My arse felt blissfully numb when he finally unloaded. For his finale, he lifted his arms and then brought them crashing down on my hips with a loud and stinging thump.

    “Turn around and sit on the bed,” Okie next instructed me. “Now show the choo-choo train your respect!”

    After licking his cock and balls I once again assumed that he would be on his way. Instead, he lay down on my bed.

    “I need a nap,” he then informed me.

    As I once more sat on the comfy chair observing his as he slept, my left hand ran over my sore nipples. I knew there and then that nipple-play would forever become one of my favourite ‘tortures.’ By now I was so horny that I frantically began to tug my knob. As I shot my load, I again used my hand towel to clean my stomach.

    After watching him sleep and observing two more of his slumber erections, he awoke an hour later. As he looked at me he began toying with his dick.

    “I’m in a state of fuckin’ confusion right now,” he proclaimed.

    “Why?” I asked, totally oblivious to what he was puzzled about.

    “Well, the choo-choo train is not sure whether it wants to enter your top or your bottom tunnel,” he sniggered.

    I had never received a toy train as a child and had always resented my parents for that oversight. Now it appeared that my wish had finally come true, with interest.

    Without waiting for my response, Okie then said, “Get on your back with your head off the edge of the bed.”

    As I received my next face-fucking, I was also introduced to a new dynamic when I genitals got a few slaps. It wasn’t hectic but amazingly, very stimulating. I was also stunned by how my throat had adapted to Okie’s oral ‘attacks.’

    After a solid face-fucking I was again ordered onto my knees for another butt-fucking. Okie, once more hammered my arse with gusto.

    As he did so he said, “I won’t be wasting my time at the bar anymore, because this will now be my permanent station for the next four weeks.”

    Once Okie had frantically unloaded a few minutes later, his clanging cymbals once more struck my hips.

    As he began to dress he told me that he was fuckin’ hungry, prior to leaving without uttering another word.

    I did not see Okie again that evening, but he did knock at my door at four o’clock the following afternoon. Mistakenly, I once again thought that it might be Albert.

    An even more intense scene played itself out on this occasion, with the exception of the cigar and a nap. Yet again, he again left for dinner afterward, without uttering a word.

    As I lay on my bed afterward with my ‘brutalized’ nipples, genitals, arse, and mouth, I wondered if I was becoming ‘torture’ junkie. As my left hand moved from one to the other ‘afflicted’ area on my body, my right hand plucked my cock so wildly that I was afraid that I would dismember myself.

    I was in bed very early that evening and rather pleased that no further visit from Okie took place.

    On Monday after dinner, I finally decided to knock on Albert’s door. All was revealed when he told me that he and the lady he had been introduced to had got along rather well. Not only had he spent Friday evening with her, but the entire weekend as well. Apparently, she had only dropped him off at the hostel early that morning so that he could dress for work.

    Albert did not offer me a drink, as usual, and it soon became clear that he was exhausted from the weekend’s antics. Respectfully, I informed him that I lots of homework to do before making my way to my room, somewhat disappointed.

    That week, I also did not see Albert again before Friday morning in the shower. He then informed me that he and the lady were hitting it off very well and that he had also spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, evenings with her. Albert then dropped the bombshell by telling me that he would be packing up his stuff that evening and moving in with her for the duration of his course. I didn’t ask about his girlfriend back home, because it simply wasn’t any of my business.

    As far as Okie was concerned, he made his customary visits on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evening. Much as I was enjoying sex with him, I nevertheless was yearning for a more holistic gay experience. It disappointed me that Okie showed none of the affection that I had experienced with Albert. I ruefully ruminated upon the fact that a combination of the two would have been a perfect solution.

    As luck would have it, during that week I met an openly gay guy at college. To my delight, he informed me that around the corner from the cinema where I had seen The Boys in The Band, there was a very well-known gay bar.

    I made a firm decision that I would definitely be visiting the bar on Friday evening. I was hopeful that I would not only mix with people of my own ilk like I had seen in the movie, but maybe also get lucky that evening. I wanted to chat, laugh, and hear the bitchy gay repartee that I had revelled in while watching that movie.

    Friday night was spectacular! I mingled, laughed, and enjoyed myself enormously. With good fortune smiling on me, I also met and went home with a really nice guy. As had happened with Albert the previous week when he met the woman he had spent the weekend with, I also ended up staying with the guy who invited me to his home for the entire weekend.

    After I had been dropped off at the hostel on Sunday afternoon at four p.m., I knew that I would have to burn the midnight oil because I had a shitload of homework to do. No sooner had I got busy before there was a knock at my door. I had anticipated this and mentally prepared myself for a possible visit from Okie.

    “Where the fuck, have you been?” Okie asked with annoyance in his tone.

    Taking the bull by the horns I answered, “I’m sorry I can’t invite you in, but as I spend the weekend with a guy I met at the gay bar on Friday night, I now have a shitload of homework to do.”

    With a look of total confusion on his face, he simply replied, “Oh.”

    “I’m sure I see you sometime tomorrow,” I countered.

    With a forlorn look on his face, Okie once more repeated, “Oh,” before slinking off down the passage.

    I had no intention of being nasty, but I also reflected upon the fact that Okie should know that he wasn’t the only pebble on the beach. I also hoped that if the subject of my away weekend was raised, I would be able to set a few new ground rules with him.

    When Okie knocked on my door the following evening, as I opened the door there was a complete shift in his demeanour.

    “May I come in?” he asked.

    “Sure,” I replied.

    Okie then sat on the comfy chair as I sat across from him on the bed.

    “So, you had a good weekend?” he asked guardedly.

    “Yes… it was brilliant,” I answered enthusiastically.

    “So, was this guy that you met… was he ‘better’ than me?” he enquired, sheepishly.

    I was pleased by the question because it had opened the door for the speech I had been planning.

    “No, he wasn’t ‘better’ than you, just different,” I replied.

    “What do you mean by… different?” he asked with a perplexed look on his face.

    “Okie, you are a great lover and a very sexy man. What you must remember is that I am gay and need a little more from our ‘sessions,’” I informed him, before resuming, “I love having sex with you and enjoy everything you do, but a little bit of affection would also be nice.”

    I let this information sink in for a few moments, before continuing, “You’ve never hugged or kissed me. We have also never really spoken at all. You arrive, face-fuck and butt-fuck me, and then leave without saying a word.”

    There was now a look of total embarrassment on his face.

    When he finally spoke, he said, “I’ve never really been a very touchy-feely kind of guy. I suppose that’s why I have never had a successful relationship.”

    “I’m not asking you to change anything, I just want you to expand your approach,” I suggested.

    Okie now stood up and gestured for me to do the same. He then awkwardly placed his arms around me and gingerly kissed me. The kiss was rather brief but very satisfying.

    “How am I doing?” he then asked.

    “Brilliantly,” I replied.

    “Does this mean I can fuck you now,” he asked with an impish grin.

    As I smiled at him the thought, ‘one step at a time’ went through my mind.

    Shortly, I was once more getting a solid skull-fucking. When he anally penetrated me, however, I was on my back with my legs over his shoulders. Not only was the visual contact with him incredible, but he also constantly lowered his torso to kiss me.

    Before he left that evening he once more embraced and kissed me. Okie then even thanked me and said goodnight before he left.

    The following four weeks before Okie’s course came to an end were unbelievably good. I was very pleased that he did not deviate from his normal and preferred rougher approach, but the added intimacy of being kissed and fondled as well, really enhanced the overall experience.

    The morning he departed back to his home was a very sad one and I bid him farewell, it was with a very heavy heart.

    I did see Okie a year later when he returned to the hostel for a three-week course. Happily, we picked up where we had left off a year earlier.

    I was also very pleased to learn that he was in a steady relationship with a lovely woman he had met. According to him, that was because of me.

    After those three weeks, I never saw him again, but I often think about him with great fondness.


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


  • King of Bondage

    I have myself bound and immobile by a rogue Queri, and the very buff Viser was scanning down my body. He then starts grabbing me, and feeling around my body. I kinda liked it in a way, it calmed me. He said “You’ve been conditioned so flawlessly! How is this possible? Holger raised you didn’t he? His boys were always the strongest.” and Queri chimed in with “That’s why I had to make the bonds stronger,

    I got the inkling of a feeling that things were going to be worse if I tried to break loose, so I stood still. So what the Viser did is that he looked at my untamable Dick and decided to suck on it and it was not helping my horniness. Stupid stimulant! I got a better look at his head and he had a metal thing implanted in his forehead. I tried to pull my Dick out, and it worked. At least, in the unexpected way. He stopped sucking, looked at me and with a weird gesture of the Viser’s hand Quieri’s robotic arms created something around my waist, holding it in place. The viser said “You think you can resist your fate, boy? This is the fate of every king of Verona! This is their purpose!” and for some odd reason, Queri’s voice also echoed these words! The Viser turned off the glow and continued his sucking until I cummed in his mouth.

    I didn’t know what to think! The purpose? My purpose? I made as many sounds as I could through the gag, but that only made the viser angrier. “YOU ASKED FOR IT” The Viser yelled as his signal removed the waist brace and instead the sheets and covers of the bed were being pulled down, exposing my legs, and then lifting my legs up, exposing my soft ass. There was definitely already some kind of dildo in it, but then he pulled the shiny looking dildo out of my butt, and put it aside. He then tore off what looked like his jockstrap revealing his huge dick. He then proceeded to shove it in my ass, and it felt like something was going to rip me apart! It hurt like shit at first, but then I got used to his massive girth. That was when he came in me, and I had felt like a hole gallon of cum was poured into me. I felt one of my most intense orgasms at that moment. 

    I then passed out again and I woke up in the same room in the bed again, but with different sheets this time. I had nothing in my ass this time, though, the room was pitch black except for Queri’s screen and some light shining down on my bed. Speaking of the bed, I was still bound to it. Although, I noticed while the restraints felt a little softer, I couldn’t even do the little wiggling that I previously could do. Queri then did the routine of putting me in sitting position, feeding me the stimulating food, and then started to milk me when my urge to cum came back.

    Queri then asked me,”Would you like to know why I mentioned this as your training?” and I said yes. Then, the Viser stepped out of the shadows and he said,”The king as we know doesn’t make decisions. He sits on the throne, waiting for time to pass, being handsome, just as a figurehead. It started years ago. Saddle in, I’ll tell you why.”

    A king that was buffer than me ruled tyrannically. When a bunch of his court members decided to overthrow him, they tied him to his bed and gagged him. They presented him in the town square like this and had asked the people “Is this how you like him better? For we can keep him like this, and every other ones of his generations to come, and we, the court members will form a council to rule over you in a qualifying way.” and the citizens agreed and the now powerless king was reduced to basically a fuck toy.

    Since then, the citizens agreed that they would continue to pay the takes to provide the kings with luxuries, but only if we were to live under the following conditions. 1, never wear a shirt. 2, always be in bondage whenever I can be. 3, if I am ever to work out I must either be nude or wearing only a jockstrap. 4, I must be milked at least once a day. 5, I must eat the cock stimulant with every meal. The Viser then asked me what I thought, and I said,”This. Is. Going to be GREAT!” I was practically dancing my restraints. I would be revered for basically being a self bondage toy. I loved being in bondage, as long as it wouldn’t go out of control. I then asked if I could exercise, and then queri put a golden collar with a chain, which was given to the Viser. I was then freed from my bondage, and taken to a gym on the train. 

    It had the most intense workout equipment. However, the Viser eyed my chest. He said,”It’s missing something.” and he reached into a bag, and pulled out some kind of nipple suckers. I have not used nipple suckers before, and these were interesting looking. He rubbed my dick until my milky, white spooge came out, and then he rubbed it on the bottom ring of the suckers, then put them on. I didn’t think much of it, so I did some hardcore workouts. When I was done, the Viser then instructed me that the last day of my training was ahead.

    I was then tied down as I went to bed. I fell asleep as the time passed. When I woke up, I realized that I was still tied, but this time the viser put a blindfold on me. He then put a gag on me. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I think that’s what gave me the most intense orgasm. The cumload I shot was my biggest non-stimulant cumload. I felt the train come to a halt as I heard some cheering outside. The Curtains were drawn right now, but I knew it was Verona on the outside. I was instructed to put on a clip-on underwear, and a pair of royal pants. 

    I did not know what awaits

  • Honestas gets his bitch

    John looked at his screen and thought “Damn him, what is he playing at it was over”. It had been traumatic and at times worrying but they had ended it. The bitch hadn’t been honest though he had claimed it was all down to John for all the misunderstandings that had happened and he couldn’t recall the first meeting all that well, there had been too many others he had dominated often on repeated occasions. If he gave it careful thought maybe the bitch had been correct maybe he John had blown it as it all seemed too good an opportunity that the bitch offered and John had made things awkward to end it subconsciously. Whatever they had traded different viewpoints and had ended it so why now has he put this add on the website trying to contact him. The bitch claimed his circumstances had changed and he could offer himself up to John as an on call slut for his sole use and delight. The pictures were enticing his build was as John liked it and was hairy just as he liked as well. His face was alright and he was offering himself up for use. John looked at the pictures and felt his resolve crumbling maybe he could use the bitch just the once and enact his revenge on the hassle the bitch had caused him. After all John was the dominant and this bitch was for the use off if he was to be believed. His groin throbbed at the thoughts he had and the pleasure he might get from the meeting and his resolve melted away. He was going to have this bitch and use him roughly and have the bitch’s cherry and take his virginity and enjoy his body then cast him out. So he contacted the bitch on the web site messaging system. “Tomorrow at ten am be at my place prompt and be prepared for use and abuse.” The reply was almost immediate from the bitch, he must have hanging on with baited breathe for the message. “Thank you Master for this chance to redeem myself and to serve you as your slut. I will bend to your will and do as you order whatever it is that you command me to do.” Bitch was always wordy John remembered high opinion of itself it would be a pleasure breaking the bitch to his will.

    Bitch eased back in his computer chair and his mind was a whirl, was he really going to serve this Master who had dumped him for no real reason other than he had mistaken the messages that had gone between them and was a real tart and liked to have a wide range of slaves serve his needs. Did he really want to be this bastard’s slut and be used repeatedly. Bitch knew the answer to that he just hoped it would be a repeated process and not a one off as he suspected. John could be vindictive and he felt that bitch had led him on and let him down. Bitch had tried to tell him it was a misunderstanding but John wouldn’t hear of it. This was bitch’s last chance to prove his intentions and earn himself a bastard of a Master who would use him and take his virginity and more.

    The next day bitch prepared himself for the ordeal ahead. He showered and gave himself an enema to clean out his hole for Master’s pleasure. He felt the water fill his insides and was fit to burst and he let it go in the shower pan as he could make the toilet pan. He would have to shower his legs and clean out the shower but it was worth it. He drove round early to be sure he got there on time. He parked just off the road and waited. When it was nearly time he drove round and parked properly, got out of the car and walked to the bungalow on the corner of the small square. He knocked at the door and waited. The silhouette of the man he wanted to serve approached the door wearing only a tee shirt and shorts. He opened the door and beckoned bitch in.

    When he heard the door he thought “at least the bitch is prompt and here”. He went to the door and opened it and ushered the bitch in. He planned on not talking much.

    “Get up stairs now and strip off, lie belly down on the bed side to side and wait my pleasure.”

    Bitch went upstairs fearing this was going to be harder than he thought and maybe a one off after all. He stripped off and lay down as ordered. He heard Master come up the wooden stairs and heard him draw in his breathe. He heard noises but couldn’t make out what was happening.

    “I am now going to punish you for past acts with 20 of the strap and 20 of the horsewhip. Count them if you can”.

    Master then proceeded to lay into him with the strap. Leather on flesh smacks and grunts of effort. Bitch counted between strokes as best he could as the blows were very hard and swift and the blows took his breathe with the severity of them. His back side throbbed as Master laid them out alternating on each cheek. Suddenly they stopped and then the horsewhip swished through the air and thwacked against his sore raw arse cheeks. Bitch tried to count and tears slowly slipped down his cheeks but bitch kept quiet but for the count of twenty. Eventually the punishment came to an end and bitch was thankful he had kept still and endured, Master had been particularly severe and hard.

    “I will repeat that towards the end of the session but now I am going to take your arse virginity.”

    He felt Master lay over him and direct his hard prick towards bitch’s hole and lubbing with his fingers entered bitch’s arse forcibly and fucked him hard and fast. He let his weight press down on bitch to keep bitch in place and fucked hard and moved forcibly in and out of the bitch’s hole. Eventually after some time he let out a gasp and fired his load into the bitch. He pulled out got up and walked round to bitch’s mouth and stuffed the flaccid prick into bitch’s mouth. Bitch felt the thrill of having a warm pulsing prick in his mouth was exciting and could still feel it in his arse. Much more intimate than a plastic dildo.

    “Clean me”.

    Bitch complied and felt life come back in the prick. Master was obviously randy and ready for action. Master pulled out and moved round to lay beside bitch. He lay down and pulled bitch’s mouth in hand and started to snog him. Bitch responded and presented himself in a passive yet willing participant in the snog. Master responded and kissed him harder and stronger. He stopped and got up and started to play with some toys stretching and filling bitch’s arse hole. Bitch passively let it all happen. Then Master came round and fucked bitch’s mouth and filled his mouth with a load of cum. Bitch swallowed and sucked hard licking the head and all he could to satisfy this man.

    Master got up and started to pummel bitch with the strap again and bitch counted as best he could through the pain. After the horsewhipping was finished Master threw down the implement and said firmly to bitch.

    Get up get dressed and fuck off you little tease I have had my way and revenge on you now.”

    He left the room and went down stairs and contemplated what had just happened. Bitch got up dressed and tears at the rejection after enjoying the rough session more than he at first thought he would, got dressed and down the stairs and left the bungalow as quickly as he could. Broken and wanting much more of what had just happened. He wanted to serve this bastard more than ever but had to now move on.

    John sat down and heard the door gently shut he had had his way and treated the little bitch roughly and enjoyed it more than he had expected. He had rejected the bitch but could he make use of him again after this session. The thought of having that bitch on call for such sessions really turned him on and he wanted to do it all and more again. His mind made up he went on site and messaged the bitch.

    “If you really do mean to serve me you will have to come tomorrow for the same and more. If you do turn up I will take you on as my bitch for sex and pain and you will be properly trained to serve me as I want. Don’t reply but I will expect to see you tomorrow same time as today”

    Bitch had travelled home and gone on site intending to leave the site when he saw he had a message from Master. He read it with a thrill and trepidation as his body ached and throbbed from the beatings. He hardly slept that night and he washed and prepared himself the next day and left quickly as he had yesterday. He walked up to the door and knocked on it and waited.

    John smiled to himself and let the bitch in. He had plans for the bitch and would use him extensively now and introduce him to much more in today and the days to come.