Author: admin

  • Warlock’s Revenge

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    The warlock waved his hand and Jax was flung against the wall once again. The black cuffs appeared on his wrists and ankles just as before. Jax had regained control of his body, though it mostly did not matter as he was tightly restrained against the cold stone. He thrashed his body as hard as he could against the restraints, his arms extended straight out to his sides. The sleeves of his tight t-shirt stretched as his huge triceps flexed with every move of his arm. Despite only being supported by cuffs on his wrists and ankles, he felt no weight on these parts of his body. It was as if he was floating, only he was helplessly bound to the wall.

    “Let me go! What do you even want from me?!” Jax screamed as loud as he could. The warlock lowered his hand and walked toward Jax. Any sense of safety from knowing the warlock was confined had now faded. The warlock stopped about 3 inches from Jax. His abs were clearly visible through his tight blue t-shirt, rippling as Jax trembled in fear. The warlock reached up and stroked Jax’s face, feeling the 2-day stubble scratch against the tips of his fingers.

    “I want what your PATHETIC friend failed to give me.” The warlock slapped Jax square across the face. “The boy was weak!” Jax turned his head, stretching his jaw to recover from the impact of the blow.

    “You got what you wanted from him you sick fuck, let me go!” Jax shrieked.

    “I see you fail to grasp the course of events that just took place. Allow me to enlighten you.” The warlock waived his left hand, and another translucent chair materialized. He took a seat and crossed his legs. “As I explained to you before, to obtain the full spectrum of power needed for my ultimate goal I must extract the essence of a young man. Most importantly, it must be extracted from him against his will. However, if a man is to resist an orgasm being imposed upon him, he must fight the battle on two fronts.”

    Jax looked confused. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

    “Orgasm is impacted by two processes in the brain. One is the primal part of the brain controlling basic bodily functions. When a man is stimulated, the nervous system carries the signal to the brain indicating arousal. Eventually, when a critical point is reached, orgasm is triggered independent of conscious thought. The primal part of the brain takes over and ejaculation is initiated, just as the male body is designed to do.”

    “I don’t need a fuckin’ science lesson bro, let me down!”

    The warlock did not even acknowledge that Jax had spoken. “The interesting part is that with enough resolve, the conscious mind can challenge this primal part. Influence it to some degree. This part can ‘fight’ the orgasm, if you will. However, the body has no reason to fight an orgasm. It is designed by nature to pump out semen as hard, fast, and often as possible. Herein lies the true battle, which is where your friend did not meet my expectations. You see, your friend became so overwhelmed by the pleasure of his greatest fantasy coming true that he gave in. His conscious mind stopped fighting his primal urge to ejaculate, and he allowed his body to orgasm. In this he was not truly an ‘unwilling’ donor.”

    Jax’s mouth opened wide as he realized what had happened. He realized the look of surprise on his face, and changed his expression. Across his square jaw there was still a red mark where the warlock struck him earlier. “Fuck you, Tucker. I always knew you were a weak-ass bitch…” Jax thought to himself.

    The warlock stood up slowly, and the chair faded into oblivion. “The essence I received from him was enough to free me from my confines and restore my magical energy. But as I did not receive his full unwilling essence, I am unable to complete the final incantation. I will need your essence to realize my final objective.”

    Jax couldn’t hide his surprise this time. “Whaa… no… no way! Stop, let me go! No, erghhh….” Jax struggled against the restraints, ignoring the futility. The warlock laughed Jax’s effort to free himself.

    Suddenly, Jax stopped. Regaining his senses, he began to remember his own strength. He was known across campus as the stud who could go all night. The hotshot college wrestler who sometimes fucked two or three chicks a day, choosing not to cum just to prove he could. He was the competitive kid who exceled in sports, pushing his body to the limit to prove his toughness and determination to anyone who told him he couldn’t. No one could take him down, not even some wrinkly old wizard with magic powers. He had been challenged before, and he met every challenge head-on. Jax was ready to fight. Only this time, the fate of the world and his own soul were on the line.

    “Fuck you, old man. Bring it on.” The warlock was surprised by Jax’s confidence, but only for a moment. His surprise turned into glee as he realized the challenge he faced. “Oh, that makes it even better. The harder you fight, the more powerful your essence in the end when you break.”

    Jax puffed his chest out with pride, his pecs straining against the tight blue t-shirt. “Not gonna happen bro. What if you fail? Then what?” Jax’s confidence strengthened even further, an anger burning within him. The harder he was challenged, the more driven he became.

    “No man has ever been able to resist. I understand the intricate details of both the male anatomy as well as his sexual drive and psyche. You have no chance, though I admire your confidence.” Jax laughed aloud. “Enough shit talk, let’s do this!”

    “Very well. Let us BEGIN!” As the warlock spoke the last word, he waived his hand sharply from left to right. An unseen force ripped Jax’s clothes from his body, leaving them shredded on the floor. He was totally exposed, his perfectly scuplted body vulnerable on display. The warlock chuckled with delight.

    Jax looked down at his body. Even though he had lived in it his whole life, he never failed to be impressed with its perfection. His pecs, which had previously been straining against his shirt, were now on display. His torso was normally covered by a thick chestnut-colored hair, but he kept it very shortly trimmed to expose the definition of his chest and abs. The ridges of his 6-pack were emphasized by the flickering shadows of candles. His arms hung straight out to his sides, and a thick vein could be seen just under the skin of each bicep. His firm quads, covered in a light dusting of hair, bulged out against the wall.

    “Impressive, my boy. I see you treat your body rather well.” He reached out and stroked the side of Jax’s leg. Jax recoiled, the thick quad visibly flexing as he pulled away. “It is a shame that the strength of a man’s muscles cannot help him when it comes to his sexual self-control.” The warlock surveyed Jax’s body as if he was taking inventory. He scanned Jax’s full upper body, gradually moving downward until his eyes reached Jax’s exposed cock.

    “Ah, let us take a look at your sexual equipment. I like to thoroughly examine a man’s tools before I use them against him.” The warlock reached up and cupped Jax’s balls in his hand, allowing them to rest in his palm. They were clean shaven, and the warlock rubbed his crooked fingers over the smooth skin of his scrotum. Jax’s balls contracted with the stimulation, lifting themselves out of the warlock’s hand. “Flexing other muscles now, are you?” The warlock snickered softly. He then moved his hand upward, rubbing his palm over Jax’s shortly trimmed pubes and downward over the top side of Jax’s cock.

    Jax felt the mild pleasurable sensations run from his cock through his body. Before he would have tried to struggle and move his cock away from the warlock’s hands, but he didn’t even move this time. “Let the fucker try.” he thought to himself. The warlock moved his hand around the backside of Jax’s dick, grasped it, and lifted it up. It was average sized, 3 and a half inches long and proportionate in girth. Just like his body, it was evenly colored and perfectly blemish-free. Despite being circumcised, his cockhead was smooth and free of the rough skin that frequently accompanies a cut cock. Jax’s frenulum was left intact, and the warlock ran his thumb from the underside of the head down the underside of the shaft. The pleasurable sensation was more intense this time, and Jax shuddered involuntarily.

    The warlock nodded. “A perfect example. The stimulation of your frenulum led you to involuntarily react. Your body responding to the pleasure. Just a taste of what’s to come, my boy.” Jax scowled at the warlock. “Fuck you old man.” The warlock laughed. “And what’s more, your dick is rather average. I expected more from someone as big and strong as you. I suppose no amount of exercise will increase the size of a man’s cock.” Jax’s face turned a bit red with embarrassment. The warlock was right. Jax was self-conscious about having an average-sized cock, especially since everything else about him was huge and built to perfection.

    “Maybe we can do a little something about that.” The warlock quickly withdrew his hand, allowing Jax’s soft cock to flop back down into a hanging position. He walked over to the circle in the center of the room, picked up his staff, and returned to Jax. The warlock waived his hand over the orb at the top of the staff and whispered a few words. The orb began to glow, and he gently held the orb against the head of Jax’s cock.

    “The fuck…” Jax watched the purple light flow out of the orb and into his cock. The light engulfed it, and it began to glow a bright purple. Jax began to feel a tingling in his dick. Not pleasurable, but just a tingling sensation unlike anything he had felt before. Jax watched flabbergasted as his soft dick began grow. It grew first in length, increasing 1, 2, then 3 inches longer. It now hung like a thin pendulum between his legs.

    “What are you doing to me?” The warlock ignored Jax. The light then dulled a bit, and his dick began to grow in girth. It plumped up in two strong throbs, nearly doubling in thickness. Jax shook his hips side to side as if to try to fling the magical light out of his dick, but this only succeeded in causing his newly enlarged cock to slap heavily against his leg. The warlock took a step backward and withdrew the staff. The light on Jax’s dick faded.

    “Wh….” Jax was stunned. He was acutely aware of the difference in how having a big dick felt. He noticed the weight of gravity pulling stronger upon it and the tug of it against his body as he moved. He was still angry at the warlock, but also undeniably excited about his new possession.

    “Enjoy it now boy, because you won’t be around for much longer. Your essence will be mine momentarily, and you will fade into oblivion.” Jax pulled his eyes away from his hefty new cock and stared the warlock straight in the eyes. “Bring it.”

    “As you wish.” The warlock redirected his attention to Jax’s dick. He grasped it gently in his hand. “The first step,” said the warlock confidently, “is to initiate an erection. This should not be at all difficult in a young, virile man such as yourself.” He began to stroke Jax’s cock, moving his rough hand up and down in a slow rhythm. Jax acknowledged to himself that it felt good, but also was disgusted by an ugly old man manipulating his dick. There was no way he would even get hard for the warlock. He might as well just give up now.

    The warlock spent a few minutes on his efforts to arouse Jax with no avail. He took a step back, looked at Jax’s cock, and then up to his face. “This is no matter at all. As I noted before, arousal occurs in both the mind and the body. I must not be the most sexually appealing specimen you’ve come across I suppose.” The warlock grabbed his cloak and spun around quickly, once again transforming into the female illusion he had used with Tucker. “How do you like this?”

    Jax did not answer. He refused to entertain the warlock’s games any longer and simply stared at the ceiling. His concentration was broken when he felt something warm and wet envelop his dick. Jax looked down to see the woman bobbing up and down on his soft cock. She moaned and rubbed her nipples as she sucked his dick voraciously. She kept at this for a few minutes, but Jax’s cock remained totally soft. The woman pulled his dick out of her mouth with a pop.

    “What’s the problem baby? Don’t you want me?” She pressed her breasts together seductively with her hands.

    “Sure, you’re hot. But I control what gets me off, not the other way around.” Jax said cockily. Getting his dick sucked by hot girls was a daily occurrence for him, nothing special. He was almost bored.

    The woman spun around with a flash, and the warlock returned to his original form. “I see you will be more of a challenge than your friend. But worry not, I have not even looked into your mind yet.”

    Jax froze. “Fuck, I can’t let him into my mind… I can’t let him know…” Jax closed his eyes and imagined a brick wall, trying to block the warlock from penetrating his thoughts. The warlock raised his hand to Jax’s face, and muttered a brief incantation. The white light flowed from his hand, entering Jax’s eyes. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, continuing to envision a brick wall. However, the wall in his vision began to crumble. Jax shook his head back and forth forcefully trying to rid his mind of the warlock’s magic, but it was fruitless. The white light flowed out of Jax’s eyes with a purple hue, returning to the warlock’s palm.

    The warlock closed his eyes for a moment and looked down. To Jax it seemed like forever as he sweated profusely hanging on the wall. “He can’t know, he can’t….” The warlock’s eyes shot open and he looked at Jax with a menacing stare. “Oh, but I do.”

    The warlock grabbed his cloak for the third time and spun in a flash of light. Jax squinted to protect his eyes from the light, but when he reopened them he gasped in horror. He could not believe it. In the warlock’s place stood Connor. “Hey bro!” Connor threw his head back and laughed.

    Jax squirmed in a panic. “The fuck, man! Why?” He shook his head side to side violently. Connor took a step forward. “You know why, buddy.” Jax couldn’t help but notice how tight Connor’s t-shirt was. It stretched across his broad chest and thick torso, and his nipples were clearly visible through the thin material. Oh, and that bulge in his jeans…. Jax shut his eyes, trying to tune it all out.

    “I’ve seen the way you look at me when we all get wasted together.” Connor wrapped his thick hands around Jax’s ankles. “You talk so much shit about how many girls you fuck, how much of a stud you are. But I know what you really want.”

    “Fuck you, I’m straight! You’re not even really Connor!”

    “Does it really matter bro? We both know you’re a big fag.” Connor let go of Jax’s ankles and chuckled. “You can’t deny it, I read your mind. But your thirst for Connor isn’t the only thing I found hidden in there…” Connor winked at Jax. Jax tensed up in fear. He thought he might cry. The things that he had never told anyone. The things he was so ashamed of, but burned like a heat in his balls…

    “I bet I can get you hard without even touching you. That would be pretty embarrassing, huh bro?” Connor reached down and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt near his waist. He began to slowly peel it upward, revealing those furry rock-hard abs. His pecs came into view, covered in dark hair but with bright pink nipples poking through. Connor pulled the shirt the rest of the way off his head and tossed it to the side. His shoulders were round and big as grapefruits. He flexed both his arms, showing off his softball-sized biceps. Jax felt a twinge in his dick, and a surge of fear and arousal shot through him. “No, gotta keep it down….” He willed his dick into submission, and it remained soft.

    “Yeah, keep resisting. There’s so much more….” Connor began to take off his jeans, his fingers scratching in the hair on his lower abs while he undid the button. He lowered the zipper slowly and tantalizingly, revealing that he was wearing no underwear. Jax closed his eyes, attempting to tune it all out.

    “Nah, I’m not gonna let you get away with that.” Connor waved his hand and Jax’s eyes shot open involuntarily. He was being forced to watch the show, and he knew that didn’t bode well. Connor resumed where he left off, returning his hands to the zipper of his jeans. Dark pubes were visible, as was the root of his thick cock. He lowered the zipper the rest of the way down, revealing another inch of his dick.

    “All this time everybody thought you were straight. None of the guys would have guessed that you went home after the frat parties and beat your meat thinking about them. Your wrestling teammates would be disgusted knowing you got off on pinning their hard bodies to the mat during practice.” Connor stared Jax in the eyes, taking advantage of his inability to look away. Jax couldn’t help but notice Connor nonchalantly rubbing the base of his dick. Connor was toying with him.

    “I am straight, asshole!”

    “There’s no use denying anything, fag. I already read your mind. Might as well own it.” Connor reached his fingers into the crotch of his jeans and began to fish out his dick. He pulled it slowly upward, inch after inch revealing itself until the head finally was unleashed. Connor held it in the air for a moment and then let it flop lazily down.

    It was unreal. Jax had heard Connor was hung, but never would he have imagined that. Soft his cock had to have been at least 6 inches long, and unlike Tucker’s it was not just long but thick. He grabbed it by the base and slapped it into his palm with a loud thwack. “Whaddya think?”

    Jax began to salivate involuntarily.  He had always wondered if the rumors about Connor’s size were true, and now it was being proved to him in the flesh. His mind was lusting for that cock, and his body knew it. Despite his best efforts, Jax started to get hard.

    “Yeah, there ya go. Just let it happen. There’s no use fighting it.” Connor was right. Jax looked down and watched helplessly as his dick grew. With each beat of his heart it throbbed, this time refusing to obey his commands to remain soft. It was a strange sensation, the hardening of his new mega-cock. The heaviness of was causing it to bounce with every pulse. This only turned Jax on more, and within seconds his cock was standing fully at attention.

    “Wow bro! Impressive. I knew I made it bigger, but I didn’t expect it to turn into that kind of monster.” It truly was a sight to behold. Most big cocks droop even when they are hard, but not in Jax’s case. Despite its weight, Jax’s dick pointed straight up toward the ceiling, measuring a full 9 inches. Jax’s face turned red. He was ashamed of himself, letting Connor get to him like that. His cock, part of his own body, was responding to the command of another man.

    Connor reached up and slapped Jax’s dick. He laughed aloud as it swung comically side to side. “Yup, that’s what I like to see. The first step in forcing you to blow a load is to get that dick hard. We’ve definitely gotten there, no denying that!” Jax’s cock eventually settled back to its original position, still hard as a rock. Connor lifted his hands and floated into the air, maneuvering himself until his face was just inches from Jax’s. He looked directly into Jax’s brown eyes.

    “I know I turn you on like fuck, bro.” Connor whispered. “But I also know there’s another secret hiding there in the back of your mind. One you haven’t even admitted to yourself. It’s the reason you decided to come here in the first place, right?”

    The shame in Jax’s face turned to fury. “Come on, motherfucker, you’ve had your fun! Yeah, I had a thing for you… er, Connor… So what? That’s it though, there’s no more secrets.” Connor didn’t flinch despite Jax screaming directly in his face. “Just get on with it, I’m ready to play your stupid game.”

    Connor floated back down to the floor. “All right bud. If that’s what you want.” He reached down and wrapped his hand around his dick. Connor’s fingers didn’t reach all the way around, his cock too girthy even when soft. He began to stroke it, and Jax couldn’t help but watch lustfully as it hardened. It grew to an unbelievable size, long as a paper towel roll and thicker. “Yeah, watch my cock fuckin’ grow. You know you want to slobber all over it.” Jax had never been with a guy, but Connor was right. The only thing he could think of at that moment was his mouth on Connor’s huge dick. He caught himself and snapped back to reality. “Come on, you know better than that. Don’t let him get to you.” Jax thought.

    Connor placed both of his hands palms-down in the air above his cock. His hands began to glow a soft purple, and his dick glowed in response. He smirked. “Watch this.” The light faded, and Connor grabbed his cock with one hand. Starting from the base, he milked his cock all the way to the head. An unnaturally large amount of precum oozed out of the tip, and before any could drip to the ground he reached out with the other hand and caught some. There must have been half a cup, thick and clinging to his fingers.

    Jax tensed as he realized what was coming. Connor reached his hand toward Jax’s dick. Starting along the underside, he began to smear it with his own slimy precum. Jax moaned as Connor slid his hand up and down Jax’s monolithic cock. It felt amazing. He thrust his hips forward reflexively to embrace Connor’s lubed hand. It was the most perfect and slippery lube he had ever had on his dick, and it was impossible to deny the pleasure. Jax recognized his body responding to the stimulation, and pulled his dick away from Connor’s hand to avoid being further aroused.

    “Feels good, don’t it bro?” Connor reached forward and grabbed Jax’s dick again. He stroked it slowly, his hand all the way up and down the shaft. He hit the sensitive underside of the cockhead but avoided stimulating the glans.

    Jax took a deep breath and flashed a cocky smile. “All under control. Give me all you got, I can take it.” Connor began to stroke Jax’s dick faster, tightening his grip a bit. Jax fought back against the sensation, keeping his arousal at bay. Despite the assault on his cock, Jax was winning the battle so far.

    “Can you take it though? You can hide it all you want, but you’ll break eventually.” Connor stopped the stroking for a second. “Hey, actually I’ve got an idea. What if you couldn’t hide it?”

    Jax looked confused. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not even close. Doesn’t matter how hard my dick is, you’re not making me cum.”

    “Ya think so? Let’s make it a little more difficult then.” Connor let go of Jax’s cock and turned toward the wall across the room. He spoke a few words under his breath and pointed his sticky hand at the wall. Out of the air materialized a large panel with what looked like a thermometer. The glass cylinder in the center was labeled with numbers – 1 at the bottom and increasing until reaching 10 at the top. A blue liquid rolled around in the bottom of the cylinder, glowing softly. It filled the gauge up to the number 3.

    “The fuck is that?” Turning his head to the side, Jax stared at the panel quizzically.

    “Just a little tool to make reading you a bit easier. See the numbers on the glass? Those numbers show the arousal level of your body. They measure your level of sexual excitement.” Connor stepped back in front of Jax and returned his slippery hand to Jax’s dick. “So basically, it tells us how close you are to giving me that load.”

    Jax couldn’t believe it. He knew he had the self-control to beat this guy at his own game, but now the game had changed. The warlock could now tell what aroused Jax and what didn’t – what was and wasn’t working to break his steely resolve. The resolve not to lose control and be forced to cum.

    “Go ahead, put it on display. I’m not ashamed. I can hold my load.” Jax barked defiantly. Connor opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Jax rared back and spit straight in his face.

    Connor took a step back, looked down, and wiped the spit off with his sleeve. He looked up, the fury in his eyes burning like a fire. Jax saw a flash of the warlock in Connor’s eyes. “NO MAN will defy me in that way!” Connor threw his hands up, and purple energy flew from his palms and into Jax’s hard dick.

    “UNHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Jax roared in pleasure. Never in his life had he felt anything that felt so good. He threw his chest out and tensed his abs, trying to resist the feeling being forced upon him by the warlock’s magic. His muscles rippled with the tension, and the head of his hard cock flared as it responded to the stimulation. A loud “click” emanated from the gauge across the room, and the liquid bubbled upward. It changed from a deep blue to a green as it began to fill the cylinder, quickly passing the 4 and 5. Upon reaching the 6 the thermometer began to shake. Jax’s body was responding to the pleasure, but the gauge sensed he was fighting it. “Must not…. give… in….” Jax gritted his teeth, battling his cock’s need to cum.

    “Yeah bro, give me everything you got. I can feel your essence boiling. You can’t hold out forever.” Connor began to sweat as he channeled energy into Jax’s dick. He continued verbally taunting him as he maintained the beam. “Fight back as hard as you can. Your body wants to cum, and you know it. It’s inevitable – you can’t fight what your body was designed for. The primal male need will take control eventually, and there will be nothing you can do. You’re going to give me that load.”

    Jax strained even harder. He could feel his cock accepting the pleasure, soaking it in greedily. It felt so fucking good. He wanted so badly to let it overtake him, but he knew that that wasn’t an option. Even if he gave in and the warlock got his essence, it would not be enough to sate him. He would just find another unwilling victim to extract the soul from. Jax would cease to exist, and the warlock would still get what he wanted in the end. Jax remembered the story Tucker told at the campfire.

    The young man fought the building orgasm with everything he had, fearing that he may lose the battle and sacrifice both his semen and his soul. Unfortunately, the warlock made a grave mistake in the incantation just as the young man was about to surrender to the orgasm. The spell backfired, and the warlock was struck by a beam of energy and slain. 

    “He can’t keep the spell up forever. Maybe if I fight back long enough it will backfire like it did before.” With newfound determination, Jax gathered all his mental strength and focused it into his cock. It glowed an even brighter purple. Suddenly the beam shooting from Connor’s hand bounced off Jax’s dick and flew in a different direction. The beam hit the wall with a bang, leaving a smoking black mark.

    “What the hell was that?” Connor lowered his hands for a moment.

    *click*

    Connor turned around and watched as the liquid in the thermometer cooled, setting back to the number 5. Connor spun around, and a brief flash of light revealed the warlock in his original form. Gnarled and hobbled over, the warlock turned around and walked back to Jax. “I respect your resolve my boy. But know this – in the end, you are not battling me. You’re battling your own cock.”

    Jax laughed. “I’ve got more control over this dick than you give me credit for, buddy.” He flexed his muscles, this time in a show of strength. Jax was confident, but he couldn’t understand why his dick was still so hard. The warlock was hideous, and he wasn’t being actively stimulated. Under normal circumstances he would have been able to will it to go down, but something was keeping him too horny.

    “What’s wrong? Something bothering you? Maybe you’ve realized this whole time I’ve been appealing to something deeper and darker inside of you. Is that why your cock won’t obey?”

    “What… what do you mean?” Jax tried to maintain his air of confidence, but on the inside he knew exactly what the warlock was talking about.

    “As I said earlier, you didn’t just come here out of curiosity, did you? Something about that story made you horny. Maybe hornier than you’ve ever been. What could it be?” The warlock circled his finger playfully around the head of Jax’s dick.

    “NO, fuck you! You’re fuckin’ crazy, bro! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Now Jax was clearly panicking. Shame-fueled heat rose up into his face as he finally recognized that the warlock knew everything.

    “You WANTED to be in this position, didn’t you boy! You pride yourself on being in control of all aspects of your life. You’ve spent your whole life proving to others you’re the best, the strongest, the sexiest…” The warlock continued to stimulate Jax’s cockhead. “But there’s one thing that can always take a man down. One thing that can emotionally bring him to his knees, override all his self-control, and make a slave out of him. What do you think it is?” Jax shook his head side to side, trying to tune out the warlock’s words.

    *click*

    The gauge began to bubble and fill again, rising past 5… 6… to 7…

    “NOOO, I’m not listening to you!” Jax writhed in the restraints, not caring that trying to free himself was futile. His cock was harder than ever, flopping side to side as he struggled. He felt the heat of shame and arousal flush over his face. He knew the warlock was talking about his cock. And he knew that the warlock’s taunts were turning him on more than anything ever had.

    The warlock threw his hand up, and suddenly Jax was still. He was paralyzed, unable to move. The only motion in his body came from the involuntary throbbing of his dick. He watched to his horror as a drop of precum oozed out of the tip. The warlock reached up and touched it, pulling his hand away and watching the sticky string between his finger and Jax’s cockhead. “There was one night in your past you’d rather forget. One night you’ve tried to block out as it was so humiliating for you. Do you remember the night I’m talking about?”

    Jax didn’t want to, but he remembered that night vividly. When going for girls, Jax usually sought out dumb chicks. Ones who were easy to dominate and would submit to him. But one night, he met a girl that didn’t quite fit these criteria. At first he didn’t realize what he was getting himself into, thinking she was just being flirty and playing hard to get. He went along with her teasing. He was looking forward to taking her home, holding her down, and fucking her just like most girls wanted. He played her little games, submitting to her shy request to tie him down to the bed. It was cute, so he went along with it.

    It wasn’t until she restrained him that she revealed her true colors. She began to demean him, taunting him about how big his muscles were and despite all his strength he couldn’t get himself free. She stroked his rock-hard cock while making fun of how disproportionately small it looked to the rest of his huge body. She had heard from other girls that he thought he was a stud who could fuck all night long. She was there to prove him wrong. Stroking his cock tightly, she told him she was going to make him cum whether he wanted to or not.

    He tried his hardest to resist. Just when he thought she may have mercy, she turned around and opened the drawer beside the bed. She pulled out a huge vibrator, bigger than he had ever seen. Turning it to the highest setting, she pressed it firmly into the underside of his cock. Within seconds he lost control and blew the biggest and most powerful load of his entire life.

    Though he had tried for years to forget, he frequently found himself awakening from a dream that took him back to that moment. Every time when he awoke from this dream, he would look down and see that he had filled his boxers with jizz. Nothing had ever humiliated him so badly, but turned him on so much at the same time.

    Jax snapped back to reality. When he looked down at the warlock he choked, unable to breathe. In the warlock’s hand was the same vibrator the girl had used on him that shameful evening. It was about a foot long, slender with a round knob on the end. The only difference was that this vibrator had something extra. Attached to the knob was a rubber sleeve, molded exactly to fit around…

    “No, don’t! You can’t… please…” Jax was still unable to move and watched helplessly as the warlock slipped the sleeve over his eager cock. The liquid in the thermometer started to boil and turned a deep orange color. The warlock looked up at Jax and smiled, peered again into his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he flipped the switch to the low setting.

    Jax was immediately overwhelmed. The vibrations enveloped the entirety of his cock, stimulating every sensitive inch of its length. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it, tried to push the pleasure away. Despite using every ounce of his mental fortitude he began to feel it coming. The familiar feeling that every man knows and craves. He was approaching the edge of cumming.

    “Yes, yes… You are weakening. I can sense it. It’s building, isn’t it? Despite your best efforts your conscious mind is losing. Your cock is betraying you – disobeying your orders and relishing in the pleasure.” A purple glow emanated from the warlock’s hands. It moved forward, at first coating the vibrator and then enveloping Jax’s massive cock. The warlock began to breathe heavily, consumed with the excitement of being so near to his goal.

    *click*

    The liquid in the thermometer began to climb again. It bubbled past 8 and hesitated slightly before it continued to 9. It turned a bright red color, boiling like molten lava. Jax was shaking all over. He was holding on by a thread. He mustered every bit of strength and willpower he could find. He could not let this happen.

    “I will NOT give in to my cock. I control my dick, it doesn’t control me.” Jax whispered these words over and over, becoming more out of breath each time he said it. It was the only thing he could think of to do at this point. He had to fight it. He had to win. He MUST not cum.

    Jax felt the heat of orgasm building, and he was barely keeping it at bay. He felt his balls tighten up, preparing to embrace their purpose. His scrotum was wrinkled and hugging his balls tightly against his body. He was holding on to his control, staying just on the right side of the point of no return. It was like a man maintaining his balance on a tightrope. One wrong move, one second of distraction and it would be the end. He would go over the edge, and no matter what he did his body would shoot massive amounts of cum against his will.

    Gritting his teeth, Jax’s face turned blood red. Veins bulged out across his body, every muscle tensed and straining to hold in the load. The warlock was frustrated that Jax was still holding on, but eager to begin the incantation that failed him so long ago. He began to speak in an unknown language. The purple glow around Jax’s cock turned to a blinding bright red.

    Both Jax and the warlock were stunned by the sound of an explosion behind them. The intensity of Jax’s battle against his own sexual energy had caused the pressure in the thermometer to become too much. The temperature in the room had risen to an almost dangerous level. Jax’s words had turned into guttural noises. He clenched his fingers into his fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. It felt SO good, inhumanly good. His body wanted to give in to its instincts and fling hot cum across the room. He was still determined not to let that happen. Jax would fight it until his last breath.

    The warlock knew he couldn’t maintain the spell much longer. He began screaming the words of the incantation, desperate to force Jax’s cock to obey his command. Holding his breath, he reached down and switched the vibrator to the “high” setting.

    As the intensity of the vibrations increased, time seemed to stop. Jax’s cock swelled to a painfully engorged state. The thermometer was broken, but Jax felt a switch flip in his brain.

    *click*

    It was done. His cock had won. Jax had gone over the edge. All men know the feeling of passing the point of no return. There are a few seconds between that point and when involuntary ejaculation begins. These two seconds felt like two hours for Jax, waiting for his cock to shoot his load as he watched in horror. Consumed by shame, he began to cry. It was beyond his control at this point – he was going to cum and there was nothing he could do about it. His body had just decided to surrender his soul.

    “ARHGHAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!” Jax felt the first contraction hit. His cock flexed hard, slapping his abs with a thud. The sleeve on the vibrator came off, flying off the end of his dick and landing on the floor. Jax looked down at his dick as it pulsed the second time. He sobbed and moaned at the same time as the first jet of thick white cum exploded out of his deceitful cock. It soared across the room and was soon followed by another powerful shot. And another. And another. His dick had sprayed at least 15 full spurts of cum across the room before it decided to stop.

    The warlock screamed with laughter as he watched jets of cum fly through the room. Grabbing his staff, he began the extraction spell as he did before with Tucker. The warlock thrust his staff into the air, and Jax’s cum began to evaporate into a thick mist.

    “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Jax screamed. He was watching his soul being devoured by the warlock. His cock began to soften, globs of cum oozing from the tip. These globs too were quickly vaporized. The mist began to swirl around the orb atop the warlock’s staff.

    “Finally, I have succeeded! The world is mine to control!” The warlock cackled with glee. Jax felt his energy being drained, and his eyes began to close. His body became transparent, fading from existence. Without a soul, he would fade into nothingness. He tried to keep his eyes open, but there was nothing left to fight with. The warlock thrust the staff out in front of himself, making it float in the air by magic. “COME!” The white cum-mist began to swirl around him. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, awaiting the essence to fill him.

    Immediately the warlock’s eyes shot open in surprise. Standing before him was Tucker, fully nude, holding the staff in his hand. “It’s over shitstain!” Tucker shouted. The process of absorbing Jax’s essence had released Tucker’s soul from the warlock’s grasp.

    “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” The warlock shrieked as Tucker slammed the top of the staff to the ground. The orb shattered into a million pieces. A wave of energy flew from the point of impact, knocking them both back. A flash of light filled the room, and white mist began to flow like steam out of his body. His screams faded into nothingness as he disappeared into oblivion.

    The cuffs holding Jax against the wall disappeared, and he fell to the ground. Tucker ran across the room and leaned down next to him. “Are you okay?”

    Jax opened his eyes and rubbed his head. “Fuck, what the hell just happened?” Tucker helped Jax to his feet, both of them still totally naked. Jax tried to stand on his own, but his knees buckled and he fell back to the ground. Tucker wrapped Jax’s arm around his neck and lifted him.

    “It’s over bro. We beat him. He’s gone.” Jax looked at Tucker with shame in his eyes.

    “I couldn’t do it…. I couldn’t hold out against him…” He bowed his head, feeling defeated.

    “Hey, don’t sweat it man. There’s not a guy on earth that can hold back forever. I bet you believe that now, huh?” Tucker laughed jokingly.

    Jax gave a tired smile. “Thanks for saving me bud.”

    “Hey, at least you got a big dick out of the whole situation!” Tucker reached down and gave Jax’s swinging dick a playful slap.

    Jax laughed. “I guess you’re right bro.” He looked around the room. “Um, hey…. Where are our clothes?”


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


  • Spark & Stone

    Perfect Shot

    He walked over to Heathcliff and his companion, and, for a couple of seconds, he just stood there, not knowing what to do. It was surely foolish, to act on instinct like that because truth be told, he wanted to dance with Heathcliff, too, and there was no turning back.

    Heathcliff’s companion seemed to be the first to notice him standing there. “Can we help you with something?” the guy asked, frowning slightly.

    Aidan licked his lips and swallowed. He was about to make a total fool of himself, but he wasn’t going to back down now. “Would you like to dance?” he asked Heathcliff directly.

    “Excuse me,” the guy in the white tee huffed, “we were just in the middle of a conversation, and you’re interrupting. And seriously, is that your pick up line? Maybe you should go home and polish it a little.”

    “I’d love to dance,” Heathcliff said dramatically, taking his companion by surprise.

    And not only. Aidan’s eyes grew wide. Now he had expected a rejection or at least a small jab at his request, and the only unknown factor in all that was how Heathcliff would go about it. Funny how he wasn’t ready for a positive response.

    “You would?” he asked, feeling, and most probably looking, a bit stupid.

    “Let’s go,” Heathcliff said with determination and took Aidan’s hand, ignoring the other completely.

    “Hey, that’s not very nice,” the guy called after them.

    Heathcliff only half-turned toward him. “I’m sorry, please forgive me,” he said in a sugary voice. “I’m just suddenly in the mood for dancing.”

    “You could have just said so,” the guy threw his last words at them. “Jeez, some people,” he added, most probably to himself.

    Heathcliff snickered like a kid doing something naughty and carried Aidan quickly to the dance floor. And, unlike Michael who had shown Aidan a proof of his virtuosity as a dancer just earlier, Heathcliff pulled him into a tight hug and kept him there.

    “Heathcliff,” Aidan called softly, “we’re not exactly dancing.”

    “I suppose we should also move a little, right?” Heathcliff began to move, but only slightly, in total disregard of the fast-paced music.

    “We’re not supposed to slow dance,” Aidan pointed out again.

    It wasn’t like he minded. Actually, being there, in Heathcliff’s arms, felt good and right at the same time.

    “It’s the only style of dancing I know,” Heathcliff replied.

    “Seriously? Aren’t you the master of all things, you know, physical?”

    “That I am.” Heathcliff chuckled. “I just skipped dancing lessons; that’s all.”

    “Michael is an excellent dancer and your friend. Doesn’t he find this appalling coming from you?” Aidan asked and wrapped his arms around Heathcliff’s neck.

    “Ah, Mikey. I thought he would seduce you and you wouldn’t say ‘no’.”

    “I’m only here for you, you spoilt fitness guru,” Aidan said affectionately.

    “You’re such a perfect babysitter,” Heathcliff’s voice dropped low.

    Aidan was sure they were putting on a bit of a show, slow dancing while all the others were engaged in much more physically strenuous exercise on the floor.

    “Michael told me you wanted me to ask you to dance. Is that true?” Aidan asked.

    “It is,” Heathcliff admitted simply.

    “But why? Isn’t this how you practically send the others around here the wrong signals?”

    “What do you mean? What signals?”

    “You know. That you don’t want to hook up. Dancing with your babysitter is the surest way to keep everyone at bay.”

    “Good. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

    Aidan wanted to be able to have a witty comeback to that. The thing was he felt like no other words were needed.

    ***

    Heathcliff had never played the sentimental card with anyone in his life, as he liked to believe that he was as honest as they came in all his dealings. Yet, right now, keeping Aidan close in his arms, he felt pretty damn sentimental, and it wasn’t some play. The strategist in him was all a frown. The rest was smiling, though.

    He had to remind himself to thank Michael later. Apparently, a small friendly nudge had been enough for Aidan to come to him and ask him for a dance.

    To say that he had been thrilled the moment he saw Aidan there, a bit shy, but determined, was an understatement. Heathcliff was so happy that the only way to contain what he felt was to hold Aidan tightly.

    The weirdest thing of all was that, for the moment, his mind was blank. He could not remember one step from his elaborate plan to seduce the corporate bunny. And he had thought he had everything thoroughly planned.

    Obviously, something was happening. If he hadn’t been so giddy with Aidan coming for him, he would have investigated the issue thoroughly.

    With a content sigh, he snuck his hands lower on Aidan’s back.

    “Are you all right?” Aidan asked gently. “You’re a bit not your usual self tonight. Are you ill?”

    Heathcliff scoffed. “I just wanted a dance with my babysitter. How is that a problem?”

    “It’s not,” Aidan replied. “But we’ve been slow dancing for about twenty minutes or so, and the music changed five times. People around us are really starting to stare.”

    “Let them stare,” Heathcliff said smoothly. “Don’t you like the attention?”

    “Actually, I don’t. I’m not a famous influencer like you.”

    Ah, finally, some steps of his elaborate plan were coming back to him. Heathcliff knew exactly where he wanted Aidan. “Then we can go somewhere private.”

    Aidan pushed himself away to look at him, with something akin to suspicion in his lovely eyes. “Heathcliff,” he said, his voice a little wary, “aren’t you here tonight to hook up?”

    Heathcliff pulled Aidan back into his arms. “I changed my mind.”

    “All right. So do you want to go back home and sleep?”

    “Will you tuck me in?” Heathcliff joked.

    “Of course,” Aidan said. “What kind of babysitter would I be if I didn’t send you to sleep with a bedtime story?”

    “Don’t you like this club?” Heathcliff asked. “I’m sure Michael will be disappointed to hear you want to leave so quickly.”

    “The club is fabulous. It’s you who makes me worry. Are you sure you’re not ill?”

    This time, Aidan raised one hand and touched his forehead. Heathcliff pulled back. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to tease Aidan over his babysitter role, but he was sure this wasn’t in the job description. Also, it was not part of his plan.

    “Let’s go somewhere private, bunny boy,” he said with determination.

    He dragged Aidan after him through the crowd. The bout of sentimentality from earlier was thankfully over. Now he could go back to being business-like, as his plan for the night demanded. Plus, he wasn’t sure he could win Aidan over by being sentimental and doe-eyed. That wasn’t him.

    Michael smiled at them as they walked over to his table. “You two were quite the sensation on the dance floor.”

    “Mikey, can I have that private booth now?” Heathcliff asked.

    Michael’s eyes lit up. “For you? Always. Seeing you so taken with one another, I’ve already sent word. You’ll not be disturbed.”

    “Wait; what?” Aidan intervened. “What do we need a private booth for?”

    “For the same reason anyone needs a private booth when going to a club. To have fun in private,” Heathcliff replied.

    “Are we going to have fun in private?” Aidan asked.

    “Yes. I recall a certain kink of yours that only I can cater to.”

    “Oh, fuck. You can’t be serious,” Aidan protested.

    “Come with me, and stop being difficult.” Heathcliff held Aidan’s hand in his tightly like he was afraid bunny boy would make a run for the exit. “Since you’re my babysitter, I must take care of your needs.”

    “Stone, you’re still a conceited bastard, aren’t you?”

    “Stone? You called me Heathcliff earlier. It was nice for a change.”

    “What was nice for a change was you being less of a conceited bastard,” Aidan replied.

    Heathcliff laughed. “Did you really fall for that act?”

    He could not tell why he felt the need to distance himself from his behavior from earlier. It was like control was slipping through his fingers. Heathcliff Stone was always in control. So taking back the reins, like he was doing right now, was completely normal.

    “Actually, ah, it doesn’t matter. Let’s get it over with. I know exactly what you have in mind. But let me tell you. I’m holding my liquor well,” Aidan warned him.

    “I thought you told me you don’t drink.”

    “I don’t. I have a natural tolerance. Something about some of my ancestors being sailors and all that.”

    “Ah, so you’re from a family of explorers? That explains everything,” Heathcliff said with a broad smile.

    “And what do you mean by that?” Aidan asked.

    “Your bold personality, of course. You came to invite me to dance.”

    “I’m pretty sure my ancestors would have been engaged in thrashing the bar by now, but let’s say that I believe you. But I don’t think I’m bold, at all.”

    “Let me be the judge of that, okay?” Heathcliff linked his fingers with Aidan’s.

    “You two are better than any reality show,” Michael interrupted them. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall to learn what’s coming next.”

    “Do you have flies in here, Mikey?” Heathcliff joked as he looked at his friend. “That calls for a visit from the health department.”

    “Just go and have fun, you two. But, seriously, you should tell me how that went.”

    “A gentleman never kisses and tells.” Heathcliff flashed a big grin at his friend.

    Michael replied with a knowing smile. But he could read something akin to surprise in Michael’s eyes. Ever since he confessed to him how much he liked Aidan and wanted to trap him, Michael had had a hard time hiding it. Of course, Heathcliff knew why that was happening. Michael was too considerate a friend to tell him anything he didn’t want to hear. However, Michael had jokingly proposed to save Aidan from him, by trying to seduce him.

    Heathcliff wasn’t sure who Michael was trying to protect. It was clear as day that his friend had been taken with Aidan from the first second. For some reason, he felt proud; his affection for the young man wasn’t misplaced, and Michael was validating his decision. Also, if Michael joked about hooking up with Aidan, that meant Heathcliff wasn’t the only one to notice how incredibly cute the bunny was.

    He offered his hand to Michael. “Thanks, man.”

    “Have fun, you two.” Michael grinned at them. “Especially you, Aidan. Don’t let Heath push you around, okay? Also, don’t fall for this vulnerable act. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

    “Thanks for the heads up. But you have nothing to worry about,” Aidan said with a small laugh. “I am Heathcliff’s babysitter and not the other way around. I’ll be completely responsible, and I’ll take care that he doesn’t start using colored markers on the walls.”

    Heathcliff looked at Aidan. So he was having fun, after all. That was the only reason why he allowed him to talk like that. As soon as they were alone, Heathcliff was going to be back in charge. Right now, he could allow Aidan a few giggles at his expense.

    ***

    “Seriously, Stone, you’re so easy to read. I told you about body shots, and of course you have to do something like this,” Aidan said as he gestured toward the table on which a small shot glass, and a whole bottle of tequila, along with a beautiful porcelain plate full of lime wedges, were neatly arranged. “I still don’t understand how you can give up on a night of hooking up and getting busy with various handsome men just for the sake of trying to get me under the table. Wait, was that your plan? To have me drunk so that you could sneak out and have fun without me hovering over you?”

    Heathcliff laughed and pushed him toward the love settee. Aidan didn’t have to look too close to notice how this particular private booth had a romantic flair to it. It had obviously been modeled to cater to couples.

    “I’m having fun right now.” Heathcliff hovered over him while Aidan sat. “I actually have a business proposition, but let’s talk about that later.”

    “Business proposition?” Aidan wondered out loud.

    “Let’s talk after you’re a little looser than this.”

    “I told you. I don’t get drunk easily. Also, I wouldn’t want to risk getting into a coma by accident.” Aidan gestured towards the bottle.

    “Don’t worry about that. I just want to see your skill at drinking body shots. I don’t want you drunk either. So, are you ready?” Heathcliff asked with a smirk.

    Aidan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I am ready.”

    He should have known Heathcliff was all for fooling around. But the sooner he could get this over with, the sooner Heathcliff was going to go back at doing what he wanted, and Aidan could return to his job.

    That, of course, unless the little voice inside his head telling him Heathcliff actually wanted to hook up with him and no one else was saying the truth. Aidan had a mind to ignore it as wishful thinking, but, at the same time, he worried about what it might mean. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to run away from this? Maybe if he just hooked up with Heathcliff one time, he would still be fine?

    Plus, that being the case, he could say he lost his V-card to the biggest crush in his life to date, which was huge.

    Aidan shook his head. Heathcliff was caressing his jawline slowly, still standing and looking down at him.

    “You’re always thinking of something,” Heathcliff said. “I can tell.”

    “It’s not so hard to tell, seeing how I tend to fall silent all of a sudden,” Aidan babbled nervously.

    “What are you thinking about?”

    Aidan decided to grab the bull by the horns. “Are you trying to get me in bed with you, Stone?”

    “Is it that obvious?” Heathcliff chuckled.

    “Pretty much, yeah. But why? We’re practically in your type of paradise. Outside this door, there are literally dozens of men waiting for a chance to get into your graces. Yet, you’re wasting your time with me when you could go out there and swim in dicks or something.”

    Heathcliff laughed wholeheartedly. “Let me see how good you are at body shots and then we’ll talk business.”

    Aidan shrugged. On the outside, he could play it cool, but on the inside, he was a hot mess. He just hoped Heathcliff wasn’t going to notice how his palms were sweaty, his heart started to beat faster, and he could only do this much to avoid jumping the sexy fitness guru’s bones.

    From the first second Heathcliff embraced him on the dance floor and kept him there, he had known he was doomed. Of course, he was trying to grab at straws and tell himself that Heathcliff meant nothing by it.

    “Is it that bad for your ego that I’m telling you ‘no’?” Aidan asked.

    There was still a chance to escape. He could piss off Heathcliff a little, and he could go.

    “Are you telling me ‘no’?” Heathcliff asked and climbed the settee, placing his knees on Aidan’s sides, trapping him between his muscular thighs.

    Aidan knew his heart rate was now in a danger zone. Heathcliff leaned in and kissed him gently. In response, Aidan dug his blunt nails into the plush canvas of the settee.

    “Your answer,” Heathcliff demanded, keeping Aidan’s head firmly in his hands.

    Aidan gulped loudly. “No, I’m not telling you ‘no’,” he replied.

    “Good.” Heathcliff caressed his cheeks and stood up. “Then I think it’s time for our little introduction.”

    Aidan had a mind to ask what that was supposed to mean, but the words caught in his throat. Slowly, with hooded eyes, Heathcliff began to unbutton his shirt. The thumping rhythm coming from the club was muffled, but it made the perfect musical backdrop for Heathcliff’s striptease show.

    “I have already seen you naked,” Aidan said, just for the sake of sounding like he wasn’t impressed at all.

    He was very much impressed. And yes, he had seen Heathcliff naked, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to see the man naked again.

    Heathcliff’s only response was an all-knowing smirk. Aidan watched fascinated as the shirt came off. However, it looked like Heathcliff had no intention to go further than that. Not that he minded. The topless look was perfect on Heathcliff.

    “So, what are you waiting for?” Heathcliff challenged him, hands on hips.

    “For you to lie down so I can show you what a body shot looks like,” Aidan said with courage he knew well he didn’t possess.

    “Then how about you make room for me?” Heathcliff laughed.

    Of course, Aidan thought and stood up to allow Heathcliff to stretch on the settee. Pretending to be absorbed with pouring himself a shot, he kept from throwing glances in the other’s direction.

    So, it was a bit of a surprise to see Heathcliff already with a lime wedge between his lips and well prepared with a short, thin trail of salt on his naked chest. Aidan gulped but knew it was now or never to show the sexy asshole he was not fazed easily. He threw his head back as he let the alcohol burn his throat and then, he straddled Heathcliff quickly.

    It wasn’t the most comfortable position to assume, but he didn’t care for details at this point. Aidan pressed Heathcliff into the settee with both hands on his shoulders, and licked the trail of salt, making the other giggle. And, without a glitch, he raised his head and pulled the lime wedge out of Heathcliff’s mouth, savoring the sour taste.

    “Wow, perfect shot,” Heathcliff joked. “In the mood for another?”

    “I think I played along enough,” Aidan said, staring into the other’s eyes from above. “How about you tell me about that business deal you wanted to talk about?”

    Heathcliff put his hands on Aidan’s hips and moved slowly upward. “I think I like this position. Don’t you agree?”

    Aidan sighed. “You’re impossible; you know that, right?”

    “And you’re a tiny bit hard,” Heathcliff replied, moving one hand and placing it over Aidan’s crotch.

    “Who wouldn’t be?” Aidan retorted. “Come on, isn’t this enough for your ego? The night’s still young. Why don’t you go pick up a nice guy and have some fun with him? What do you say?”

    “I am not exactly crazy about nice guys,” Heathcliff said, moving his hand on purpose over Aidan’s semi, making him grunt.

    “Then go find a naughty one.”

    “You didn’t let me finish. I’m not into nice guys, except for one. You.”

    Aidan licked his lips. “So the only way we can solve this is by letting you have your way with me?”

    “Have my way with you? What are you, an innocent maiden?”

    “I’m not innocent!” Aidan protested.

    “Exactly,” Heathcliff said with satisfaction. “So let’s get back to what I was saying. Can you pay attention?”

    “I could if you didn’t fondle me through my jeans,” Aidan complained right away.

    “I think that’s actually helping to keep you focused on me,” Heathcliff replied.

    Aidan sighed. “Okay, just say what you have to say.”

    “I don’t like this thing with NDAs and all that,” Heathcliff began. “It’s not only because it is annoying as hell to get guys to sign before, after, or in-between. It is because it’s like I’m trumpeting all over the place that I got myself a deal. I am a confident man, but this reeks of self-importance.”

    “Okay,” Aidan admitted.

    “But it’s not like I prefer the alternative, which is not to get laid at all. So, I must ask you, isn’t it annoying for you to hunt my partners down and get them to sign those stupid NDAs?”

    It was. Aidan nodded. “Yes, it is. But that’s what the contract says.”

    “Normally I’d say fuck the contract,” Heathcliff said, and his moves on Aidan’s still clothed cock became more daring.

    Aidan could feel his breath hitching in his chest. “Don’t fuck the contract,” he said stupidly. He knew what Heathcliff meant by that.

    “I have no intention to.” Heathcliff chuckled. “I realized, however, that there is a solution that could keep everyone happy.”

    “Seriously? What?” Aidan asked, trying to focus on anything else but the hand moving over his cock.

    “I have something you want, and you have something I want. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

    Aidan closed his eyes tightly. “I can’t say I do.”

    “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it,” Heathcliff continued. “You want to be the perfect professional, and I have nothing against that. Actually, I think it’s perfect for what I have in mind. If we hook up, there’s no need for NDAs.”

    Aidan’s eyes snapped open. “Is that your business deal? I should sleep with you because I’m sure not to go with tabloids with something stupid like how you snore after fucking?”

    “I don’t snore,” Heathcliff protested.

    “It was some stupid example! I can’t believe that you really thought of this! And how do I keep being the ‘perfect professional’, as you say, while I’m sleeping with you?”

    “It’s simple. You keep me happy, and I keep everyone at your company happy, by projecting the perfect family-friendly image everyone wants of me.”

    “And I’m what? Some sacrifice for the greater corporate good?” Aidan sputtered.

    He made a move to get up. Heathcliff wrapped one arm quickly around him and stopped him.

    “Do you like me, Aidan Spark?” Heathcliff asked. “Look at me, tell me you don’t like me, and I’ll let you go. Because I like you very much and I think that this solves everything. No one will know as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

    “Do you think is it that simple?” Aidan squirmed into the other’s lap. “And how can you say so confidently that no one will know? Your friend, Michael, is well aware of what we might be doing right now.”

    “Chill. Mikey and I have been friends since forever. And he never lets paparazzi into his club. He has a nose for them. And I won’t drag you to clubs and expose you everywhere. Where I want to drag you is my bedroom, and no one, absolutely no one will know what’s going on in there.”

    Aidan bit his bottom lip hard. “It’s stupid,” he said after a few moments. “But I suppose you do have a point.”

    “Is that all? I have a point?” Heathcliff asked. “Come on, bunny boy, don’t keep me waiting. Do you like me or not? Because if you can say that you don’t, hand on heart, I promise I won’t ever bother you with this.”

    “I …” Aidan trailed off.

    “Eyes on me,” Heathcliff insisted.

    Aidan knew it wasn’t a good idea to look at Heathcliff right now. But if he didn’t, he would look like a coward. So he assumed the risk. Why did that spoilt fitness guru have to look so handsome? It wasn’t helping Aidan with his decision at all.

    But it wasn’t just Heathcliff’s natural sex appeal that was making him drown into those amazing blue eyes. The man was looking at him pleadingly. Aidan knew it had to be an act, but there was something inside him, a soft spot of sorts, that made him feel for Heathcliff staring at him like that.

    “I do like you,” he said dejectedly.

    Heathcliff’s hand cupped his face and caressed him. “And is that such a bad thing that you must look down like this when admitting it?”

    “I can’t win against you, can I?” Aidan said, looking down.

    “Oh, damn, why do you have to be so cute?” Heathcliff whispered. “I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

    “You’re just saying,” Aidan said stubbornly.

    Heathcliff straightened up, but without letting Aidan go, just adjusting their position so that they could sit upright. “I’m not just saying. Look, you have fuck buddies on speed dial. Am I such a bad deal compared to them? I promise I’ll be worth your while.”

    “Okay. But I must warn you. I’m bad at this,” Aidan said with a deep sigh.

    “Really? You’re bad at sex? I must say that what you’ve shown me this far tends to contradict you. And how come you have fuck buddies if you’re so bad at this? You know what? Let me be the judge of that. And if it’s that bad, which I seriously doubt, I will work hard to correct those flaws you fear so much. I really mean it,” Heathcliff said solemnly. “Just say ‘yes’.”

    “Okay,” Aidan mumbled, feeling a bit ashamed with himself.

    He was giving in to temptation here. And he could not blame Heathcliff for being some manipulative seducer. If anything, the guy was asking nicely for it.

    Heathcliff caressed his cheeks slowly. “Give me a kiss. I promise you that you won’t come to regret it. I can keep things professional as long as you do the same.”

    I already regret it, Aidan thought. As for keeping things professional, that was going to be a challenge. At the same time, he wanted to find a reason to say ‘no’ and could not think of one, let alone more.

    Heathcliff took his mouth and kissed him gently. It was hard to put that kind of kiss next to the perfect playboy persona Heathcliff was known for. Or maybe that was making him so successful in all his romantic dealings. And Aidan knew that by playing along with that so-called business deal, he was doing no favors to himself.

    Except that his entire body was reacting to Heathcliff’s caresses and kisses, and he wanted, at least once, to do something wild and amazing that he could recall many years from now.

    TBC


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  • Pay off at the party

    There is a guy here in town who hosts sex parties on various days of the week.  I usually try to go on the weekend dates due to my work schedule.  It’s always a mix of younger and older.  Fit and not so fit.  Hung and not so hung.  You get the idea.  Something for everyone.  The first time I went to one I was so self conscious that I just walked around and watched.  Never got a hard on either.  Performance anxiety I guess.  But it was arousing.

    After I had a few of these parties under my belt and felt more comfortable I got a bit more adventurous.  The only rule of the party is once you arrive you have to be naked.  So it’s all on display and you know what you’re getting.  That made me nervous the first go around.  I’m basically fit and but could stand to lose a few pounds.  Firm it all up.  But I haven’t sent anyone screaming in the other direction yet so I guess I’m not that bad.  Plus I have a decent size dick so that is a distraction from those extra pounds.  Like I’ve said in stories before, it’s not huge but it is above average.

    The last party I went to was something of a payoff.  I will admit to being something of a size queen.  I’m a big man so I’m able to handle a lot.  Mainly sucking a cock but I like to ride one every now and then as well.  This party seemed to have a lot of big dicked guys.  I walked around at first just checking everything out.  Saw a few familiar faces of guys I’d played with before.  Shared some passing tugs and gropes.  A few sloppy kisses.  But we were all on the prowl and not there to socialize.  All parts of the house are open to play in.  I went back to the master bedroom which was full of all kinds of men.  There were several going at it on the bed.  Some guys were just standing around watching.  Others were around the bed going at it.  All types of guys.  I saw this one guy standing against the wall just watching.  He was semi hard but had a really big cock.  I knew where I was headed.  I walked up to him and just reached down to feel his cock.  He looked up and me (Remember, really tall guy here) and gave me a slight grin.  I kneeled down in front of him and popped his cock in my mouth like I was starving.  He got hard fast.  I was enjoying the feel of that massive thing in my mouth.  Hitting the back of my throat.  Just kind of tuned everyone else out.  But I suddenly got the urge to look around the room.  So I pulled his cock out of my mouth but kept stroking it.  I looked around and there were several men watching what I was doing.  And it didn’t scare me or make me stop.  It was pretty exciting to be honest.  So I decided to play with this a little.  I made eye contact with one of the guys watching.  Keeping eye contact I started licking this guys dick again.  Up and down.    Licking his balls.  Still looking over at that other man.  Finally I just popped that big dick back in my mouth and starting sucking like my life depended on it.  After a few minutes this guy tapped me on the shoulder and said he wasn’t ready to cum yet and wanted to take a break.  So we stopped and he walked off.  I stood back up and had a few eyes on me.  Like what or who was I going to do next.  I made my way back to the living room area.  Again there were several guys going at it.  I went over to one of the couches and sat down next to a guy getting some head.  I watched this and started jacking my cock.  A guy that I had played with before came over and knelt down between my legs.  He gave me a huge smile and started sucking my dick.  I remembered this guy.  He was really good at blow jobs.  So I leaned back and enjoyed the view of a bunch of men sucking and fucking all around me.  And this guy giving me head was amazing.  I looked across the room and saw a shorter, older man standing against the wall.  He was a hairy little guy but he had a very nice sized cock.  I managed to get his attention and waved for him to come over to me.  He walked over and sat up on the arm of the couch.  I leaned over and began sucking his cock.  Sucking a dick while I’m getting sucked is one of the best feelings around.  Maybe that’s why 69’s are so popular.  We were all sucking for a few minutes when the guy sucking my cock said “I’m gonna cum”.  Now since we had played before he knew that I was going to want that load.  So I stopped sucking on the one guy and leaned back to the one who was sucking me off.  He stood up jacking his cock and shot a nice load right into my mouth and on my face.  I sucked on him until he went soft.  He gave me a wink and walked off.  I went back to sucking the man on the arm of the couch.  I was hard and jacking my cock as I sucked.  He tapped me on the shoulder which usually means going to take a break.  So I stopped.  He got up, stood in front of me but turned around so I could see his beautiful hairy ass.  He licked his hand for a bit of lubrication and rubbed his hole.  He reached back and grabbed my dick and slowly sat down on it.  I love watching a man sit on my dick.  He started sliding up and down on it going from fast to slow to fast.  The guy who was sitting next me getting head said to the short man “If you hadn’t done that I was going to”.  He rode me for a while.  He stopped without coming.  I wasn’t ready to cum just yet either.  So I got up to walk around again.  I ducked into the bathroom for a quick clean up.  I started walking around through the sea of men.  I went into one of the smaller bedrooms where several men were going at it.  I saw younger, heavily tattooed man on his knees sucking a older man.  So I thought I’d see if I could get in on that.  I walked over and jacked my cock looking at the young man.  He looked over at me several times as he sucked that other guy.  The older man did a sort of side step to block me from the younger one.  Guess he didn’t want to share.  So I went back out to the living room.  There was a reclining chair open so I went and sat down there.  Not long after a kinda chubby guy came and stood by my right side.  He had a fat dick which caught my attention quickly.  I leaned over and popped it into my mouth.  Damn that was a big dick once he got fully hard.  I was enjoying that when another man came along and started sucking my cock.  Another younger man with a great body.  So I was again sucking/being sucked.  Yet another man came and stood on my left side jacking his cock.  I looked over at him and started jacking the chubby guy on my right.  I leaned over to the left and started sucking on him.  The guy who was sucking my cock was spending a lot of time down around my balls.  Fine with me.  He grabbed the back of my knees and started trying to push my legs up.  He wanted at my hole.  So I stopped sucking the two on my sides and slid down in the chair a bit so he could rim me.  And boy did he.  Got in there and licked and sucked like a pro.  The two guys to my sides stood there and watched.  The big dicked guy to my right adjusted his stance a bit so I could lean over and get at his big dick again.  He was very close to cumming.  He began to move his hips fast and he pulled his cock out of my mouth and began jerking it.  It shot a big ropey wad all over my face.  He stepped back from me panting a bit.  Didn’t let me suck him clean.  So there I was, legs in the air, man eating my ass with a ropey wad on my face.  I leaned back over to the guy on my left.  He was close as well.  I guess he thought it was what I wanted because right when he was going to cum he stepped back, started jerking and shot all over my face.  Pretty hot actually.  He stood there for a moment and then leaned down to kiss me and get some of that cum around my mouth.  The guy rimming me stood up and unloaded all over my cock and stomach.  We had an audience this entire time of the men in living room.  That was pretty hot.  So I stood up with cum dripping all over my face and cock.  Still hard.  I started to walk around again.  A guy came up to me with a small towel and a sheepish grin.  I told him no thank you as I liked my prizes I had on display.  I went back into the master bedroom.  An average height man came up to me.  He was pretty well built and hairy which is a big turn on for me.  He knelt down and started sucking my cum covered cock.  Felt great.  He looked up and told me he would love to ride it.  I was game.  There was some room on the bed so I went and laid down on it.  He straddled me.  Another guy standing there watching handed him some lube.  He lubed up his ass and my cock and slipped it in.  He was wild.  Bouncing up and down really fast.  I kept trying to get him to slow down a bit but he wanted it hard.  The guy who handed him the lube was still standing by the bed jacking off.  When the guy riding my cock seemed to be ready to cum, the guy standing there jacking got off at the same time all over my chest.  Then my rider blew his load all over my chest.  I was a cum covered mess and I liked it.  The guy I was fucking got off of my dick, said thank you and walked off.  I just laid there for a second regrouping.  As I laid there watching all the men sucking and fucking all around me, another young man came along and started sucking my cock.  He had been watching across the room.  So I laid back and let him work.  He was pretty good at it.  And I was so close anyway so he knew he was in for a load.  And he got one.  I unloaded loudly right down his throat.  I laid there for a few more minutes deciding if I wanted to just take a break or be on my way.  I decided I had more than my share so I should go ahead and leave.  I cleaned myself up and thanked our host.  Already looking forward to the next party. 

  • Can I watch?

    I lay back, eyes closed, as I felt my cock engulfed in the slick heat of a mouth. I felt those lips locked tight around its base while another cock was still buried in my hole. I can’t help it, the sensations were too great, and I moaned and worked my hips, pushing against those lips. I felt hands slide up my sides, rake over my stomach as more hands came around my chest and hugged me tightly.

    “Let him have it” Ryan whispered in my ear. Then he kissed my neck, tongued my ear making me push up into that mouth, force my cock back inside it all the way.

    For some time, all I can think about is that mouth…and those hands. It is all I feel. It’s my entire world while my cock aches for release. I shudder with those lips sliding up and down its length. But the reminder is there. The feel of a body between my legs, the sounds of its heavy breathing, the occasional slurping sound when it pulls off my cock, and a hand that strokes me. I knew it was there, had been from the moment it took my cock. And I knew the person. It was Bobby.

    He’d only wanted to watch. That is what he had said every time he had begged me to allow him to do so. Just watch, see what it was like between Ryan and me. And in the end, down here at Pensacola Beach in some hotel room, we let him. Let him watch us make out then fuck. Let him watch me ride Ryan’s cock, work my ass on it till my muscles burned from their exertions.

    Then when Ryan was spent, cock still buried in my ass and me hard as a rock, we let him do more. Let him crawl up between my legs and take me in his mouth.

    I wanted to cum, had for some time, and I held Bobby’s head and pumped my hips. Faster and faster, thrusting upward till drool trickled down my cock. Then I came. I exploded in Bobby’s mouth, chocked him with the first wad, then felt the suction as he drew out the last of my load. He held my wet cock and licked the head making me push him off, too sensitive to bear it.

    “That’s enough…stop…please” I uttered as I eased off Ryan and down beside him while Bobby moved back to the chair in the corner.

    Ryan and I went to the bathroom and showered, and when we came out Bobby was lying on his bed, shirt off, shorts spread open, cock flaccid. I could see the pool of runny cum over his chest and stomach. He looked at us with neither shame nor concern. We were far beyond any such pretense.

    “Bobby; go shower and we’ll go eat dinner at that seafood place down the road. Our treat.”

    He rolled to his feet and let his shorts drop to his ankles. He stepped out of them and laid them  by his suitcase. We were at our own suitcase pulling out clean clothes as he began to walk by. He stopped next to us and for a brief second said nothing, then he looked at us.

    “Thanks guys.”

     

    The restaurant was crowded, the wait forty-five minutes and being too young to drink, the bar wasn’t a real option. Besides it was packed too. We finally got a table outside, sitting under the canopy. It overlooked a small courtyard where on the far side a game of sand volleyball was in progress, or at least the drunk attempt at one. It made us laugh at the guys holding a beer or drink in one hand while trying to play. I don’t think the ball was played over the net twice after any one serve.

    It was late when we got back to the room. We grabbed up flashlights and headed to the beach. We walked along the shore, no one saying anything. We just listened the soft sounds of waves rolling up the beach. White crabs raced across the sand, some diving down into their holes. In the water, all manner of small fish, skate and stingrays moved along the shoreline.

    “I’ve never seen so much in the water” Bobby stated as he stood a few feet back, his tone showing an apprehension. “They’re not like that during the day…are they?”

     

    Back in the room, we turned in, Ryan and I in one bed and Bobby in the other. There had been an awkwardness in the room, Bobby watching us in a way that read he wanted to join us. It was obvious he suddenly felt like a third wheel and there was the sexual nature of three guys in one room, each willing to have sex with guys. The implication was we could just do it, all three of us. But Ryan and I had talked about it in the shower. It didn’t feel right. After letting Bobby in bed with us, and even though it was just a blowjob, it just didn’t feel right. We wanted things to be between just the two of us. Maybe in the future we would feel different, but now, still figuring each other out, we didn’t want to include anyone else.

    So, the lights were switched off with Bobby in the other bed turned toward the window, and I in Ryan’s arms.

    The morning sun shining in woke us up. We were heading back later in the day, so we had breakfast in the hotel, packed up and checked out. With our luggage in our cars, we went to the beach and hung out till lunch, hitting this food truck in the parking lot. Then we made our way down to the old fort, one last thing we wanted to do before leaving. Something we could do in our swim trunks, t-shirts and flip flops.

    The next day we were back in school. All morning it was ‘how was the beach?’ or ‘was Pensacola fun?’ or “didn’t Bobby go too and what did we do?’.  And they all got the usual responses while what really happened kept coming to mind. Bobby tried to act normal, but I could see it. This change. I caught him watching Mitch in Physics, probably the guy in our class most like the Monroe High’s second baseman; Elan Johnson. ‘Careful’ I thought as I saw how Bobby stared at him. Mitch was the last person you’d want to make a pass at. He was so homophobic, constantly making derogatory comments, he’d probably beat the shit out of Bobby if he attempted anything.

    “Bobby…wait up” I called over to him when the bell rung. “Dude, you have to watch the staring at other guys, especially Mitch of all people.”

    “It was that obvious?”

    “Yes.”

     

     

    For the rest of the short week, Bobby walked around as if in a daze. He acted normal when in a group of others, but alone, when he thought no one was looking, he looked lost. I knew the look, one that reflected how I had felt until Ryan. This notion of being an outcast, no matter how well you fit in. And tall, lean, attractive Bobby didn’t lack for attention. Tracy and Emily were still chasing after him, constantly showing up next to him, offering him candy, or something from their lunch, and this week, more so than in the past, he ignored them.

    For the next few days, he sat in his usual place in the cafeteria but on Friday, the weekend before us, he came over and sat opposite Ryan and me.

    “Hey guys; ready for the weekend?” Bobby asked as he climbed over the bench seat and sat.

    “Hell yes” Ryan responded.

    “What are you going to do?” I asked.

    “I’m going to do what we do most weekends. Go into town and hang out. But this time…” leaning closer, voice lowered, “I’m going to look for someone.” As he sat up, he smiled, and we laughed at the insinuation. Emily arrived at our table and without asking, sat next to Bobby. The desperation was pathetic knowing what we did. She barely spoke to Ryan and I, as she began to work Bobby, ask him what he was doing this weekend, how a new movie was out, and wouldn’t it be fun to go see it. She angled every sentence toward getting Bobby to do something with her, and Bobby stayed distant, refusing to agree to anything.

    Friday night arrived and we found ourselves at the park, sitting on the tailgate of Ryan’s truck. Across the drive from us, standing between their vehicles, were some classmates huddled up together. To the right was some Monroe High students and in between were some who lived in town, the bridge between the two groups. Of course, the infamous Elan Johnson was in the Monroe crowd and within our fellow classmates, Bobby. We watched as if it were a play, we the audience observing this outdoor performance. Bobby talking with Chris and Stacy, and Emily hanging on to every word he was saying. On the other side was Elan, joking around with some guys, other baseball players in his school. There were girls amongst them, but none seemed to be paired up, so we didn’t know if Bobby had a chance in the world. But looking back left we saw Bobby take the first step, move toward the group from town and call out to the Monroe guys. It was a casual comment, something about baseball, and they talked back and forth for a minute till the Monroe guys turned back to their own conversation. Bobby hung out with Rob and Mark, two from town, guys we have hung out with before at the bowling alley or at the burger joint on Main.

    A few minutes later we watched Bobby move to the circle of Monroe guys, slip into conversation with them. He stood across from Elan, and to us it was painfully obvious he was more focused on Elan than anyone else.

    How long this banter went on, we don’t know, for Ryan and I said our goodbyes and took off, wanting some alone time before having to head home.

    The next day I was curious. I just had to know if Bobby got anywhere with Elan, so I called him just before noon.

    “Bobby, it’s Jake.”

    “Hey…I guess you want a report. I saw you guys watching me last night. Well…” he hesitated, leaving me in suspense.

    “And?”

    “Nothing. I just hung out with them, talking about baseball, graduation almost here and video games.”

    “That’s it?”

    “Well, and girls. They talked about girls.”

    “So, you think Elan is straight?”

    “Probably…maybe…I don’t know.”

    “I have to say, I don’t get any  kind of vibe from him…but then I didn’t get one from you either.”

    “Shut the fuck up” Bobby replied, laughing.

    “You going out tonight?”

    “Yep. Nothing else to do around here.”

    So, there was nothing to report. Nothing of interest anyway.

    After lunch I called Ryan to see if he wanted to go have dinner in Greenville. Something different from just hanging out doing nothing. The trip last weekend made me stir crazy too, ready to do something else, anything else, even if it was just a short drive to Greenville.

    “No, I have another idea” Ryan replied.

    “Okay, what is it?”

    “Mom and dad are going to some church function this afternoon and will be gone till sometime late. Come over and we’ll grill out and have some alone time before my parents get back. You can crash over here if you want and after we have our alone time, we can play some video games.”

    “What time?” I asked, the only thing I really heard was parents gone and alone time.

     

     

    At five o’clock on the dot I pulled into the drive at Ryan’s place, this old renovated farmhouse that had been his great-grandparent’s place, or maybe it was great great-grandparents. All I know is the house was one of the oldest still in standing in the community. There was an addition on back and a porch that wrapped around three sides. Parked next to Ryan’s truck I climbed out of my little hatchback and felt the late day sun on my shoulders. I was dressed casually, tank top and jeans, ready to grill out then mess around. I saw the grill smoking and as I approached Ryan came out carrying a tray. He was dressed in a ratty old t-shirt that was out of shape and ripped. It hung on him revealing the collarbone and indention below his neck and was wavy around the waist it was so stretched. And he had on those jeans, the ones his mother raised hell about whenever he wore them. Both knees blown out, ripped around a back pocket and I knew there was a hole in the crotch, not visible when he was standing, but I knew where it was, my finger having been in it before, manipulating him, teasing him, making him want to fuck.

    We grilled burgers, sat at the picnic table and joked around, talked about Bobby, then we cleared everything away, loaded the dishwasher and made our way to Ryan’s bedroom. We had the far too infrequent opportunity to be together without fear of prying eyes discovering us. I was in a mischievous mood. I felt devilish, and so horny I was already half hard. I pushed Ryan against the closed door and ripped that t-shirt from neck to waist revealing his body. I kissed his neck, slid my lips over his skin down to the right nipple. I tongued it, pressed my lips around it and sucked then tongued it some more. I felt the hard nub and bit down on it. Ryan cried out and grabbed my head holding it against his chest. I tongued it some more till he couldn’t stand it and pushed me away.

    I stood up close to him, staring into his eyes as I let my hands slide up his thigh to his waist. I slipped one hand to his crotch and groped him, toyed with the growing erection trapped within, then I found that hole and felt nothing but skin.

    “Nasty fuck” I uttered making him smile. Then I pulled upward ripping the jeans open till his cock flopped out. It angled up hard, flexing up and down. I took it in hand, stroked it till my hand was slick, then using it as a handle dragged him to the bed.

    I shoved him down, the two of us laughing, and ripped those jeans down one leg, then the other. Only the waist and hem at each pant leg held them together. I moved on him, crawled up between his legs and took him in my mouth. I sucked on the head, swirled my tongue around it then pushed downward taking every inch. He bucked upward, gagging me, so I pushed a finger into his ass, buried that bitch all the way. He moaned. I toyed with his ass and sucked his cock till he was working his hips. I shoved two fingers into him, and he cried out, begging me to play with his ass. Play I did. Twisting and turning those fingers till his hole loosened to my ministrations, then I buried three fingers inside him. He howled and his body shuddered as I stretched him open. His cock flexed in my mouth rewarding me with the ooze of precum from the slit.

    I released his cock and watched him, the way his head was thrown back, mouth open panting for breath as I worked those three fingers in his hole. With my other hand I released my own growing erection, stroked it till I was hard, then I moved over him. His knees, sticking out of the ripped jeans rose either side of me as I pulled the t-shirt up along his torso and used the tattered thing to tie his wrist together.

    “What are you doing?” Ryan asked, laughing with a mischief tone.

    “Taking control.”

    “Well, take it. Come on Jake, put it in me…fuck me” he urged me on as I put my leaking cock to his hole and pushed through the tight opening. I held him down and sank into his depths. He tried to move, to shift positions, but I held his arms down, tied together and his jeans hobbled him, the torn legs twisted around his ankles. I had him pinned down. I had him where I wanted him. I pulled up with my hips then pushed down, driving into his depths again.

    My arousal increased with my pace. Faster and faster I piston cock in his hole. I pushed inward all the way every time. I felt the heat of his body around my cock. The tight ring of his opening squeeze it as I pulled outward and pushed back in. I felt him tremble, heard his cries and pleadings. I felt the sweat between us as I moved on top of him.

    If I hadn’t stopped, I would have blown in his ass. Instead, I pulled out, flipped him over. He got on his knees, shoulders flat on the bed and begged me to fuck him. I ripped the seat of his jeans, till the legs were torn free. Then I moved up to his ass and pushed every inch into him. He shuddered with the penetration then pushed back against my abdomen.

    I held those torn jeans, used them like a rein and fucked his ass. The bed rocked as I hammered my cock inside his hole. It was aching for release and I pounded his ass harder, faster. The sound of skin smacking against skin, in rhythm with the squeak of the bed and its banging against the wall echoed in the room. Then there was the begging, the desperate pleading for me to fuck harder.

    I didn’t slow this time, just kept going as I felt this need for release build up, the increase in every sensation. My cock grew more sensitive, grew thicker till every plunge into Ryan’s depths was too much. My grip on those jeans tightened till I was white knuckled, holding on as if my life depended on it, as I pulled his ass back with every hard push forward.

    Then I couldn’t take it, not another stroke. I sank into his depths and came. Hard. I sucked in air as cum filled his hole. My whole body trembled as my cock flexed with each ejaculation.

    Then I collapsed on the bed next to him, pants spread open, tank top loose around my torso and cock going flaccid, leaking the last of my load onto my abdomen.

    “My turn” Ryan exclaimed and before I realized what he had said, he was on me.

    Jeans were twisted around my ankles and tank top was tied around my wrist. What was good for one, was good for the other. He had me on my hands and knees. He pulled my hands up and over my head, making me off-balance, falling over till my shoulders rested on the bed. He kicked my legs apart tightening my jeans around my ankles as he moved on me. I felt his cock rub wetly over my hole, push against it till I was begging him to do it. To shove it in.

    Then I felt his cock stretch me open. It felt twice as thick as it pried me open and slid inward. Inch after inch sank into my hole, till I felt his abdomen press against my ass. He pulled the tank top upward pulling my arms over my head and back. He used them to hold me in place as he began to fuck. He fucked slowly at first, letting me loosen to his penetration, then he began to hammer my hole, hips smacking against ass as that cock bore into my depths. He pulled me up right and bear hugged me, one arm around my neck, nice and tight, holding me against him as cock piston in my hole.

    My own cock flopped back and forth, already hard again. Then I felt Ryan take it, stroke it in rhythm of our fuck. It made me work my hips, pushing back on his cock then forward, pushing through his fist. I was panting, felt like my body was feverish. Sweat began to trickle down my face and down my side. Ryan slowed, then pushed me forward till I was laying on the bed. I knew what he wanted and angled my ass up for him. He plunged into my depths then fucked, fucked hard and fast, abdomen bouncing off my ass. It rocked me over the bed and pushed my own erection into the mattress.

    “Fuck…FUCK…” I heard myself uttering between gasps for breath.

    Ryan kept up his pace, fucking till I knew he was exhausted. He was breathing harder, his rhythm off, then he slammed all the way inward and I felt his body shaking. He uttered some primordial cry and I knew he was coming.

     

     

    Meanwhile, in town…

     

    The drive-in was a fucking bore, but I was so hungry I went in alone for a burger. I knew what my problem was. All week I was amped up. I couldn’t stop thinking about last weekend and watching Jake and Ryan. I never knew it could be like that. I don’t know why it seemed so different from just watching porn online, but it was different. Maybe because of the way I could hear every grunt and moan, or maybe it was the way the two of them have sex. With such wild abandon. I mean, fuck, the way Jake moved on Ryan’s cock. I could see it, really see it. That thick cock bastard just lying there with Jake’s ass sliding up and down on it. 

    Or maybe it was the scent, that fresh sweat from their exertions. It seemed to fill the room. And it was different. Was it because I could smell everything about their bodies while they were exerting themselves? No clothes to mask it, Nothing but exposed skin. I know it is why some react so to cologne or perfume. Some trigger in the scent that arouses us, makes something in our primitive brains react to it. Well, I can fucking tell you I reacted to Jake taking Ryan’s cock. 

    I still can’t believe they let me suck him off. But afterward, I was really disappointed they didn’t want to do more. I would have done anything they wanted. I do mean anything.

    It’s funny when I think about it. I never would have said that about a girl. 

    I headed to the park hoping beyond hope you know who was there. Mr. Elan Johnson, the second baseman for Monroe High. The tall, dark, handsome bastard I would drop down on my knees for in a fucking minute.

    On the narrow road in the park, barely two lanes wide, I eased around to the parking lot near the tennis courts. It was the best one, for you could easily loop in and see who was hanging out. If someone was there you knew, you pulled in a space nearby, if not, you circled out and cruised to somewhere else. As I pulled in, the first thing I noticed was Ryan and Jake were not here. This was the place they usually hung out till they would slip off to go park somewhere. The next thing I noticed was Elan was not there, but some of his teammates were. 

    I pulled in next to the old Scout that I knew belonged to Richard, and next to it was the Chevy pickup that belonged to Steve, who was one of the pitchers. What position Richard played I had no idea. They were sitting on the tailgate with their girlfriends, with a couple of other guys standing next to them. I strolled over and wormed my way in amongst them knowing sooner or later Elan was show. Or I hoped like hell he would show up.

     

    Jesus, I had to be social for far too long. It was nearly an hour before Elan showed. I don’t think I could have faked another laugh at one of Steve’s lame ass jokes. Elan came into the group and stood next to me. We continued to talk about total nonsense, but I would not leave. Not as long as Elan was there. He was so close we bumped into each other. The sensation of our arms touching lingered for a long time. It fueled my fantasies Elan was flirting with me in his own way. He seemed so laid back, with none of that macho bullshit. 

    “Hey, I’m thirsty. Anyone want to go to the drive-in?” Elan asked and I hesitated, not wanting to show how eager I was to go with him. 

    “No, we’re going to hang out here” Richard replied.

    I saw Steve wavering, and knew he didn’t seem to want to go, so I took the opportunity.

    “I’ll go with you.”

    “Leave you truck here and ride with me. We’ll come back after hitting the drive-in” said Elan as he headed toward his Jeep. 

    I followed, so giddy I struggled not to show it, and climbed into his Jeep. 

    We talked about graduation coming up and plans for college as he shifted through the gears. The wind swirled around the open Jeep making us raise our voices as he drove through town. Whenever he made a joke he would reach over and tap my leg just above the knee. After three times I started to get hard and had to adjust my position in the seat. I didn’t think I could take much more. This closeness to him, the friendly banter between us and the casual way he would touch me. 

    As we rode back toward the park, drinks in hand, he hit the volume on the radio. It was some song popular for its rhythm. Upbeat and fast, one I knew had to be popular in clubs. One most of the guys I knew would act nonchalant about, thinking it was too gay.

    “I love this song” said Elan about midway through it. 

    He set his drink into the cup holder and drove with both hands when we came up on some traffic. Once cleared, instead of retrieving his drink he placed his hand on the back of my seat as he drove. It was like that hand was radiating heat. I swear I could feel it. It made me feel embolden. He was in my space so much I felt like I could ask. Just blurt it out. I don’t know what I was thinking; maybe I wasn’t.

    “Elan? You-want-to-go-out-with-me-sometime?”

    “Huh…oh, no Bobby. I’m not gay.”

    I wanted to unbuckle the seatbelt and dive out. Get as far away as I could. I turned and faced the passing scenery, ashamed and embarrassed to look at Elan. And I was scared. Really scared. How long would it take for the gossip to circle around? Bobby was gay and hit on Elan. It wouldn’t take long, I knew.

    “Bobby? Hey, man relax. It’s okay. It’s no big deal. You like me and wanted to see if I would go out with you. So what?”

    I wasn’t sure I heard correctly. No guy I knew would respond like this. They would have stopped the Jeep and told me to get out. They would have freaked out in an apocalyptic fashion. I finally turned to Elan.

    “You’re not freaked out…or mad?”

    He laughed, shaking his head. 

    “I get it. Most of the guys around here would have freaked out. I know it must be difficult for you…hell I know it is.”

    “You know?”

    “My older brother is gay.”

    After nearly falling out, saved only by the seatbelt, I sat up, suddenly interested in how he thought of his brother. He must have seen the questioning look on my face, even in the dark Jeep.

    “He came out to me when he was sixteen and I was fourteen…no fifteen. We’re eighteen months apart. He was a wreck. Had been for a while. Even mom and dad noticed, asking him constantly what was wrong, then cornering me asking me what I knew. It took me three months to get him to tell them. It was strange. I mean, really strange when he told them, with me standing by his side for support. Dad just shook his head at first making us both think the worst but then mom spoke up.”

    “What did she say?”

    “That she knew. Not for sure, but she had had her suspicions. Then dad spoke up and we realized we misjudged his reaction, for mom and he had talked about it. How they would react. What they would do if Nicolas did come out to them as gay.”

    “So, it was okay?”

    “Yeah. It was good. He lost most of his friends at first, but several came back after thinking about it. There are some relatives who won’t have anything to do with us.”

    Looking forward I saw the lights of the park as we approached.

    “Hey, you won’t say anything will you?”

    “No, no, Bobby. That is for you to decide. I promise, this is our secret.”

    He turned on the lane going into the park and slowed down, slower than the speed limit.

    “Bobby, we graduate in three weeks, right?”

    “Yes, we’re the same schedule at our school.”

    “Nicolas will be home by then. Why don’t you and a couple of your friends come over the following Saturday. We’ll have a cookout and if you want to talk to Nicolas, you know, some moral support, then you should be able to corner him up away from everyone at some point.”

    “Really. That’ll be great.”

    “And now you put on your mask and fool the locals once again” Elan joked, winking at me as we turned into the parking lot.

     

     A new week begins.

    Sunday morning arrived hotter than fuck. I mean it. One step outside and you were sweating immediately. Mom and dad headed off to church. I hadn’t been in months. I made up all kinds of excuses but there was only one reason. I was sick of the hell fire and brimstone about ‘homosexuals’. I didn’t understand the way they used the word, but knew it was derogatory. This shaming which at first worked. Made me scared and question myself. But then I got past the propaganda of it all and realized it just made me mad more than anything else.

    As soon as they were gone, I called Ryan.

    “Hey, what’s up?”

    Always this friendly easy-going tone whenever he answered the phone.

    “Not much. You want to go into town for lunch? Beat the church crowd?”

    “I have to get the grass cut and change the oil in dad’s truck for him. You want to get together later?”

    “Yes, we can do that. Maybe I’ll call Bobby. I’m curious about last night.”

    “Me too. Give him a call and report back all the juicy details.”

    “You think there will be something to tell?”

    “I don’t know. I just hope he doesn’t get hurt, or…” Ryan hesitated to say it, both of us knowing the fear of getting outed in this place.

    “Hopefully not. I’ll call you later.”

    I really wasn’t sure if Bobby attended church, or what he did on Sundays. We had not been close friends. Even now, it felt odd to be calling him to go hang out.

    “Bobby? It’s Jake. Ryan is tied up and I’m looking for someone to go with me to town for lunch. Interested?”

    “Yes. I’ll meet you there. What time?”

    “They open at 11:30, so show up then. I want to beat the…”

    “The church crowd? I’m with you on that. See you then.”

     

     

    I got there right before 11:30 and leaned against the wall next to the door waiting. Traffic was light in town, most already at church, or at home ready to watch sports. A waitress came to the door, unlocked it and started to go in. Stopping with the door half open she turned to me.

    “You can come on in if you want to wait inside in the cool.”

    “Thanks” I replied and followed her inside. I saw staff in the kitchen through the small pickup window and two other wait staff, one male and one female, behind the counter making tea and coffee. I recognized the faces but really didn’t know any of them.

    “Lynn, go ahead and flip the sign” called out the guy.

    As she flipped the sign, she smiled my way, telling me to go ahead and sit where I wanted. I knew the conversation with Bobby would be one not to be overheard and I headed to a table in back at the far wall. Most wanted window seats or in a booth so we should be isolated, at least till the church crowd came in.

    An older couple came in, then two girls from school, both a year behind me. They waved and for a minute I was afraid they would come over wanting to sit nearby, but they took a table at the window. Bobby came strolling in a couple of minutes later. Even with disheveled hair and a ratty old t-shirt that hung on his tall lean frame and faded worn jeans that made his long legs look even longer, he was, I had to admit, attractive. The girls from school made a show of getting his attention. He waved their way but ignored them otherwise, much to their dismay. I nearly laughed at how they responded when he headed my way, not bothering to stop and talk.

    “Jake.”

    “Bobby.”

    “You beat me here.”

    “I beat one of the waitresses here.”

    One of the wait staff came over, the one from behind the counter, Kristy by her name tag, and took our drink orders as we pulled out menus from behind the napkin dispenser. We talked casually as we went through the process of drinks delivered then orders taken. When Kristy moved away, I leaned over toward Bobby and he did the same.

    “So, did anything happen last night?”

    “Boy, did it ever, but not what I hoped.”

    “Oh shit; what happened?”

    He told of hanging out in the park, going back to the drive-in with Elan and getting all the wrong ideas, misread every gesture as some sort of signal. When he told me how he asked Elan out, just blurted out the question I was shocked.

    “Just like that? You asked him out?” I asked struggling to keep my voice down.

    “I know, right. And for a minute there I thought I was done for. When he said he wasn’t gay I knew I was going to be outed.”

    “What did he say?”

    “It was okay, and he wouldn’t tell” Bobby whispered in a breathless hushed voice, then leaning over, lowering it some more, “his brother is gay.”

    “He has a brother?”

    “Yes. Eighteen months older and in college.”

    “So, you picked the wrong one” I joked and the look on his face said it all.

    “Funny; very funny, Jake. But I’m glad you called, because…well, he wants to have a cookout after graduation and when his brother gets home. Said I could talk to him about what it was like for him.”

    “Actually, that sounds like a good idea. You can find out how college has been for him. Where’s he going?”

    “Guess.”

    “No…no way.”

    “Yep, where my ass will be this fall.”

    I laughed out loud and saw the two girls look our way. Jealous, bitches? I asked them in my mind.

    “Jake?”

    “Yes” turning back to Bobby.

    “And I can bring a couple of friends. Will Ryan and you go with me?”

    I didn’t have to think long on that request. A cookout? I’m all about that and I knew Ryan would be too.

    “Of course. Can’t turn down free food.”

     

     

    I got to Ryan’s place around three and found him in the barn, slid underneath the front of his dad’s truck. He had on jeans that looked a little too big by the way they gapped at the waist. And I could see his waist, and part of his stomach because the bottom two buttons of his shirt were loose. Scanning up his body I saw it was a shirt he’d torn the sleeves off. I could see the hair under each arm as he fiddled around getting the oil filter removed.

    “Damn, the old man can put them on too tight” he cursed when I heard the oil filter wrench slip and drop on the concrete.

    I couldn’t help it. I looked at the familiar body lying prone on the concrete, wanting it. His jeans bulged with the outline of cock and his exposed stomach undulated with his breathing. I wanted to touch him in the worst way.

    “Where is your dad? And mom?”

    “Oh, they left a few minutes ago. Heading to Greenville to do some shopping then get groceries.”

    “Really?” I replied as I eased down on my knees. I reached out and groped him, felt his cock through the soft worn denim.

    “Jake…stop…not now…” Ryan uttered, his voice getting less convincing as he spoke.

    I slid my hand up and raked fingernails over his stomach making him giggle and try to swat it away. I began to undo the other buttons and I saw him let his arms fall over his head letting me do what I knew both of us wanted. I grabbed him by the waist and slid him out from under the truck. The cardboard he was laying on moved easily over the concrete as I pulled him out into the open. I sat on his waist and ground my ass down on his cock as I undid the last button and pushed the shirt open.

    “What are you doing?” Ryan asked but by the humorous tone I knew he was jesting. His hands came down on my thighs and rubbed upward. I ground my ass down on his cock as one hand manipulated mine. He undid my jeans, spread them open and fished out my cock. After some quick manipulation it angled upward, hard. He stroked it, ran that hand down its length and back up making me grind down on him harder.

    Damn I thought as I began to leak, Ryan’s hand suddenly slick with it. I wanted something besides a handjob, so I stood, pulling Ryan up with me. I pulled him out of the barn and to his truck that sat under a tree. I lowered the tailgate and began to undress as I watched Ryan get out of his own clothes. I pulled him to the tailgate then leaned over it resting my upper body on it.

    “Come on…do me. Don’t make me beg” I pleaded.

    Ryan moved up behind me, kicked my legs apart and rubbed his cock up and down my ass. Then he stooped and I felt his tongue drag up and down it. I shuddered as that wet thing moved slickly over my ass, dragged over my tight opening, then circled it till it was dripping wet. I pushed back against it then felt it replaced by a finger. It rubbed over my opening then pushed through its tightness. The finger piston in my hole, then pulled out. Two fingers bore into me, twisting and turning till I loosened to their ministrations.  Then they pulled out leaving me feeling empty.

    Ryan stood up behind me, pushed his cock to my hole and slowly squeezed inside me. I felt every inch work its way in, every inch that bore into my depths till I felt Ryan pressed against my ass. He held my waist and began to fuck. Slow, long movements that fueled my desires, made me push back trying to get him deeper. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head up.

    “You want me to fuck you slow and easy, or hard and fast?”

    “Hard and fast” I panted in reply.

    He shoved into my depths and began to fuck. He fucked with a furious pace, rocking me forward till my cock was pinned up against the edge of the tailgate. He hammered my hole till the truck rocked beneath me. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t care if his mom and dad drove up now and saw us. I begged him to keep fucking. To fuck me harder.

    He fucked me till the hard metal tailgate felt like it was embossing my chest. I held on the edge of it and pushed back for more.

    Ryan pulled out and told me to turn over. I was on my back in a second, hands holding legs up and spread apart. I opened myself up for him and he took me. Moved up between my legs and sank his cock back into my hole. All the way inward, he pushed as I hammered my head down on the truck bed.

    It was already hot enough to pull the sweat out of you, but our exertions made it worse. Sweat beaded up on my body. I looked at Ryan and saw it pour from his hair, trickle down his face and chest. He was glistening in the filtered light. His cock tugged at my opening, pulling outward and pushing back in. I felt that fullness of every penetration. The movement of cock inside me. I wanted it to last forever.

    Ryan pulled out and told me to get up. I was confused at first at what he wanted as I watched him climb into the bed. On my feet he pushed me to the cab and bent me over it. Then he was fucking me again, this time both of us in the truck. It rocked harder, actually squeaked on its suspension as he hammered away at my hole. I felt my cock slap against the back glass, painfully, and it gave me a pleasure that made me rock with Ryan harder, work my body with the rhythm of our fuck. He reached around my waist and took me in hand. Stroked me as he fucked. It was too much.

    I felt my whole body tense up, felt my cock grow so rigid it hurt then the surge of release. I came hard, each ejaculation making my opening spasm around Ryan’s cock as it hammered my insides. I jerked and cried out as my cock sprayed out my load. Ryan pulled me up, bear hugged me, arm tight around my neck as he kept up our fuck. He drove into me hard rocking my hips forward. It didn’t take long and he bellowed with his release.

      

     

    Naked, we sat in the back of the truck trying to cool down. I leaned against him feeling the heat of his skin against my own. I looked up and saw my cum running down the rear window. Thick wads trickling down with small drops sprayed around them.

    “You should clean that off before your folks see it” I told Ryan. He smiled, wickedly, then crawled on his hands and knees over to the window. He stuck his tongue out and dragged it up each line of cum. I watched fascinated, absentmindedly toying with my cock as I did. I grew erect watching the nasty bastard lick up my cum.

    I got on my knees and moved up behind him. I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him around to face me.

    “Did you get it all?”

    “Yes.”

    “Slow and gentle, or hard and fast?”

    “Hard and fast. Shove it in me.”

    I don’t know when our sex became so physical, at times almost like a wrestling match. And it wasn’t how we had sex all the time. But…

    I shoved my cock into his hole and bore into his depths. He cried out, howled like an animal as I felt his tight hole milk my cock. I pulled outward till my cock bounced up and down freely then I pushed back in. Over and over, till I wanted to fuck harder, to feel my cock inside him all the time. I hammered his hole as he had done mine. His face was pressed against the glass with his hands holding his ass cheeks apart giving me full access to his hole. And I took it, too.

    I reached around him and stroked his growing erection till he was bucking against me. We were boiling hot within minutes, sweat dripping off the two of us as I fucked him. It was a furious pace, relentless, sinking into his depths over and over. He pleaded with me to cum, to fill his hole.

    I don’t know how I was so quick to cum again, but far too soon I was pumping my load into his ass. I jammed inward with each ejaculation. Spent, I pulled out and told him to stand. Standing in front of me, I took his dripping cock in my mouth. I moved on it, pushing down its length till my nose pressed into his abdomen. He held my head and worked his hips, pumping that thick cock over my tongue and into the back of my throat. He cried out and his cock flexed in my mouth then filled it with his second load.

    We dressed and Ryan headed back to the barn to finish the oil change for his dad’s truck. I told him I’d see him at school the next day. I wanted to leave before his parents got back. I was afraid they could see it on my face. See what I had been doing with their son. Afraid if they got too close, they could smell it. I thought I could.

     

    After graduation…

     

    I sat in the parking lot at the convenience on Main and Garden waiting. Yes, I showed up early eager to get to the cookout. Yes, I was impatiently waiting on Jake and Ryan, clock watching each minute tick by. Yes, I pulled up Jake’s number tempted to call and tell him to hurry up. 

    3:46 PM

    Fuck, nearly fifteen minutes till they are supposed to show up. 

    Nothing to do put fuck around online. 

    A truck pulled up next to me and I realized it was Ryan’s old thing, Jake in the passenger seat looking over. I lowered by window while he did the same.

    “You guys want to follow me, or ride together?” I asked Jake.

    “We’ll follow you.”

     

    I don’t know what I expected. Maybe just a few close friends and the three of us, or maybe a small group, ten or so. But I did not expect what I saw when we pulled into the drive at Elan’s home. It sat far back from the road, the drive following a row of old oak trees, down to a renovated old farmhouse. And lining the drive from the road to the house and more in the back were cars, trucks and SUVs. There must have been forty cars. 

    Parked, the three of us made our way to the backyard. There were three grills set up ready to be lit. Two picnic tables were pulled together sitting under a maple tree. Out in an open section of the yard a volleyball net was set up with a game was underway. Elan was on the left side with two girls and two guys, one who had the same features, although not as muscular, rather he was taller with a lean body that was almost skinny. He had to be Elan’s brother. The other side had Elan’s two baseball teammates, two other guys and two girls. 

    Scattered around the court were others, some sitting on the ground. Still more were hanging around the tables eating the snacks laid out. Looking over to the screen porch and the gazebo I saw more people, none of which I knew. 

    We approached the volleyball court, and I couldn’t help but see the looks. 

    “Bobby? Do you know any of these people?” Jake asked in a whisper.

    “No, just Elan and the two other guys from their baseball team. Steve in the red t-shirt and Richard in the white tank top playing against Elan’s team.”

    “Well, lead the way” Ryan replied, coming up beside me throwing an arm around my shoulder. 

     

     

    There was that awkward moment when we first walked up, most looking at us wondering who the fuck we were crashing the cookout.

    “Bobby, you made it” Elan called out, jogging over with the ball in his hand. “I’m Elan” he added holding out his hand toward Ryan and Jake who introduced themselves. “And this is my brother, Nicolas” pointing toward the taller but leaner guy coming our way. It was so obvious they were brothers. The same skin tone and hair color. They had the same general shape to their faces, with the same nose profile and lips. The biggest difference I could see was Elan had green eyes and Nicolas had brown eyes. 

    “You must be Bobby; nice to meet you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names.”

    “Oh , this is Ryan and Jake” I replied looking for anything to say.

    “Come on guys, let’s play” one of the other team members called out and Elan and Nicolas waved them off.

    “Hey, you have to play with us” Nicolas said to me, giving me a little push on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ll kill them with your height added to our side.” 

     

    So, we played volleyball till I was a sweating mess. Elan and Nicolas’ dad called us over, the burgers removed from the grill and everything laid out. I ate slowly while sneaking looks over to Nicolas. At first it was curiosity. Openly gay and supported by his family; it was so alien to me. Then I found myself making judgments about his looks. Judgments that embarrassed me, hoping he, or Elan wouldn’t pick up on. Elan was more muscular, the more outgoing one, but Nicolas was the mystery. Quieter, more studied in his mannerism. Even the way he talked, taking a moment to collect his thoughts when Elan would just throw out the first thing that came into his head. Yes, I was attracted to him. I told myself he was less than two years older. So, what if I still reeked of high schooler and he was a college boy. Wouldn’t that change over the summer?

    I know I got busted looking at Nicolas. Elan would be smiling at me when I looked his way, knowing who I had been staring at. The problem for me was how to approach Nicolas. I wasn’t ready to out myself, even if among people I didn’t really know, who obviously, by the way they joked around with Nicolas, were not judgmental. I just couldn’t bring myself to stroll over and talk to him. 

    After everyone had eaten their fill, some headed to the gazebo and others out to a pasture no longer being grazed, to stack up some wood for a bonfire later. I ate so slowly I was just finishing when Nicolas and his mom began to clean up. There was a trash can near the table, and I went to dump my trash thinking this may be opportunity to speak to him. But I felt the lock of my jaw, this inability to say something as I dropped everything in the trash.

    “Hey, Bobby, can you help clean up?” asked Nicolas.

    “What?  Oh…yeah” I stammered liked a fool, but it got me his attention. 

    “Just grab the condiments and I’ll get the leftover food” said Nicolas.

    I followed him into the house where his mother was putting some things in the dishwasher. Only a few paces back I followed Nicolas to the large refrigerator. As we passed his mom, I heard him tell her to give us a minute. I suddenly felt breathless. He had his own way to get me alone. I didn’t have to scheme or makeup some silly excuse.

    “Elan told me what happened.”

    “I assumed he did.”

    “Bobby, look, I get it. It is difficult to be who you want to be. It can be for anyone, even some straight people, but obviously for anyone who is gay. But it gets easier when you get away from this place. Elan says you’ll be at the university this fall.”

    “Yes.”

    He looked over his shoulder at me, smiling. “Good.”

    “Nicolas?”

    “Yes?”

    “How do you know…which guys to approach?”

    He laughed as he stood up and faced me. I realized he was taller than I with a lanky lean build made more pronounced by his height.

    “Elan said you hit on him. I would have given anything in the world to have been there. Did he freak out any?”

    “No. I did and he…”

    “Told you it was okay? Damn, little brother can be a pain in the ass some time, but he is the least judgmental person I know. But I think you’ll know when one of the right ones are near. I think you’ll be fine once you’re no longer looking over your shoulder all the time.”

    “Maybe.”

    He went on while leading me to a study at the front of the house, away from prying eyes where I could relax. We were not in there long, maybe fifteen minutes, but I did feel better when I came out. He didn’t lie about the negativity I could still receive but he made the positive sound so much better than I had been thinking possible.

    When darkness finally settled over us and the bonfire was burning, I watched Nicolas settle down with his friends, those that stood by him. They talked animatedly amongst themselves, laughing and joking around. I found myself a few feet away sitting with Elan, Ryan, Jake and a few others. We watched the fire burn as stories were told, plans made, and jokes told. When it was down to a few short logs slowly burning over a bed of hot coals, people began to leave. It wasn’t long Nicolas and his friends told everyone goodnight and left, heading toward the house. I watched them leave, at one point disappearing in the darkness that lay between us and the lit backyard. It seemed like a lost opportunity. Something slipping through my fingers when I should have grasped it tightly. 

    “Bobby.  Bobby?”

    Realizing Elan was calling my name I turned toward him. “Yes?”

    “Nicolas likes to go into town for breakfast at the diner on Garden Street. Sometime around nine.”

    That is all he said, just a time and place I could catch Nicolas. I was going to protest but I saw the three of them looking at me and I knew the sympathetic expressions, and I knew not to deny it.

    “Okay.”

     

    The next morning, I put on three different shirts, first one too nice, the second one to ratty, and I guess in some fairytale, bullshit way, the third one was just right. Or that is what I told myself as I slipped on the bright yellow tank top and some jeans. Looking in the mirror I realized my hair was overly combed, far too neat. I ran my hand through it a couple of times. On the way out the door I grabbed up my keys, wallet and cellphone, wondering what in the hell I was doing, and whether, or not it could be considered stalking.

    The closer to the diner I got the more anxious I felt. I chided myself, saying it would be easy to play it off as a coincidence. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone to have breakfast at the diner, but it was not something I did often. Most of the time it was the fast food place on the other side of town closer to home.  I arrived a few minutes before nine, hoping Nicolas wasn’t here, not yet anyway. I wanted to be there first, to have him be the one to walk in and find me, not the other way around.

    It was busy, mostly older residents sitting in groups of four or more talking of the latest news or the weather. Luckily a couple stood to leave at one of the front tables. I took it for it was by the window letting me have a perfect place to look out. 

    A cup of coffee and a menu in hand, I scanned it to see if I wanted something other than the basic two eggs and grits. Then I debated the meat; sausage, bacon, or the salt cured country ham. I knew I shouldn’t, but I ordered the ham when the waitress came for my order. She had just turned to step away when the door opened. I looked up in time to see Nicolas coming in. And he was looking my way.

    “Can I join you?” he asked and I almost stammered when I told him ‘of course’.

    “The cookout was nice. I’m glad Elan invited me.”

    “It was a nice evening. Do you come here often?” The question lingered in the air between us, the accusation right there on the edge of it.

    “Sometimes, when I don’t want the crap from the fast food joint. And you?” That’s right; play it cool.

    “All the time. Mom and dad get up too early for me. You already ordered?”

    “Yes, she just took it. Here she comes now.”

    He looked around at the waitress, called her by name and told her his usual. She set a coffee on the table as he told her thanks. 

    “Elan told you I came here, didn’t he?”

    “What? No…he…”

    “Relax Bobby. It’s good. I’m glad you’re here.”

    Then Nicolas talked about the cookout, seeing his friends, meeting Ryan and Jake, admitting it became common knowledge they were together before night’s end. He engaged me with topics that skirted around why I had come. As we ate and after, when the waitress took our plates, I felt myself relax, once again comforted by Nicolas’s casual manner. 

    “What are you doing today?” asked Nicolas as we headed toward the door.

    “I don’t any plans. Just knock around…I guess.”

    “You want to go up to the lake?” 

    I knew which lake he meant. We all just referred to it as the lake. It wasn’t that large, not really, but it was close by and as part of a state park, accessible to everyone. 

    “You fish?”

    “No. I just like paddling around. I was going to take my kayak but if you want to go with me, we can take the canoe.”

    “Seriously?”

    He smiled at me like I was a fool, and in that moment, I knew I was too. 

    “Seriously. Call whoever you need and follow me back to the house. You can help me load up the canoe. We’ll even prepare a picnic.”

    “Okay.”

    On the sidewalk I started toward my truck then realized I didn’t know what Nicolas drove.

    “What do you drive?”

    “That old Wagoneer across the street” he replied pointing toward an old Wagoneer a half block down the street. Only thing was it didn’t look old. Bright turquoise paint with a white stripe down the side, jacked up with larger tires on white wheels. I wondered where it had been parked at the cookout, for I would have noticed that among the grays, silvers and blacks of everything else. Then I remembered the large garage, three doors wide and how Elan’s Jeep was sitting outside beside it. Mom, dad and older brother got the garage.

     

    He pulled up to the barn at a side door and within a few minutes the canoe was strapped over the top. He pulled out two small coolers (giving me a conspiratorial wink), a dry sack, the paddles and life jackets. 

    “Let’s go in and make some sandwiches and I’ll change clothes. On the way to the lake we can stop and let you change.”

    “Sounds good.”

    One cooler was packed with drinks and the other with sandwiches. We grabbed some napkins, chips and cookies putting them in the dry sack.

    “Take these to the Jeep and toss them in the back” said Nicolas holding out one cooler and the dry sack. “I’ll bring the other one after I change.”

     He came out in bright blue swim trunks and white muscle shirt. It hung on his lean frame and revealed long lean arms, the right sporting a tree of life tattoo. The white shirt seemed to glow against his naturally dark skin, a trait I knew he and his brother inherited from their mother, and her Argentinian roots. I tried not to stare but when he climbed in behind the wheel, he looked at me laughing and shaking his head. 

     When we pulled in at my house, dad was coming out.

    “Where are you going, again?”

    “Just up to the lake to paddle around.”

    “Oh…well, be safe” dad replied going down the steps toward the barn.

    I raced to my room, tugged off jeans and boxers and dug out the swim trunks from the bottom drawer of my dresser. I held up two pair. One was black with a yellow panel on one leg and the other was white with a yellow strip down each side. I chose the white pair, knowing how tempting they could be when wet. Mom hated them, said you could almost see through them, which this time was the point. Besides, they looked better with my yellow tank top which I kept on.

    As approached the Wagoneer I saw Nicolas watching me, making me struggle to suppress a smile. 

     

     

    The park was crowded, every picnic table occupied around the main parking lot. The pavilion at the edge of the lake was packed with a reunion or some other gathering. Nicolas pulled down to the ramp and parked to the side. 

    “It’s really crowded” stating the obvious.

    “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. We’re not going to picnic here anyway. We’ll paddle around for a while then hit one of the clearings on the back side” Nicolas replied as he undid the straps holding the canoe.

    It didn’t take long to pull the canoe down, set it at the water’s edge and load up our food. I put the coolers in the middle and the dry sack behind the front seat leaving room for Nicolas’ legs in back. He parked the Wagoneer while I began to rub sunscreen on my arms, shoulders, neck and legs.

    “Pass me some of that” Nicolas asked as he strolled up next to me.

    “You don’t need it, do you?”

    “Oh, hell yes.”

    Pushing off, we let the canoe drift out from the bank, the wind blowing us away from it. The canoe slowly spun counterclockwise, and when we were pointed toward the southern part of lake we began to paddle, keeping close to the shore and away from the power boats. Paddling lazily over the lake I could feel the heat of the sun beating down on us. The glare off the water made us squint even with shades. 

    But it was so peaceful once away from the ramp and picnic area, with the sounds of kids playing, and parents yelling at them, and on the water the constant drone of motorboats circling around. Away from the other people we could hear trout strike the surface along the swallows. Dragon flies hovered over the surface and water bugs raced across it. It took two hours to reach back for we stopped often, once to watch a moccasin swim to the bank. At the back, where the small river flowed into the man-made lake the bank gave way to a marsh. Cattail and water lilies lined both sides of the narrow river. 

    “We’ll head upriver” said Nicolas as I felt him turn the canoe. I paddled faster, working against the slow current. 

    We rounded a bend and came to a sandbar that ran along the inner side of it. It was only a few feet wide and behind it the bank rose up steeply, eight or ten feet above the river. 

    “Let’s pull up here.”

    “I didn’t know this was here.”

    “Most people don’t. You can’t get here in a boat. The motors get tangled up in waterlilies or drag on the bottom. The river is really shallow at its mouth.”

    The canoe dug into the sand and I eased out, pulling it further up. Using the coolers as seats we set up to eat. It was so peaceful, so quiet, all you could hear was the wind in the trees and birds calling to each other. Occasionally there was a splash in the water, usually somewhere in the swallows hidden by the waterlilies and cattail.

    “We’ll swim after we eat” said Nicolas as he handed me sandwich.

    “Swim? Where? You said it was too swallow…”

    “Over at the upper end of this sand bar there is a deep section where the currents cut the bottom out.”

     

     

    It was strange. When we pulled off our shirts, I saw now lean Nicolas was. I kept thinking of him as a lot older, a college boy when I was just out of grade school, but I looked more mature, more muscular than he did. I wondered if he saw it. Did he see someone who was still some kid, just a grade-school boy, or did he see someone who was becoming a man? I saw him looking at me from the corner of my eye and hoped it was the latter.

    “Race ya” Nicolas exclaimed as he took off running. The sand bar was about a hundred feet long and I quickly gained, then passed him. I was faster, much faster and I hit the water hard, splashing the surface with every step as I went deeper and deeper till the water was up to my neck. There was a large splash behind me, and I turned to see the surface rippling outward from where Nicolas had cannonballed it. He was under a long time, but finally surfaced a few feet away. 

    “Damn, it feels good” Nicolas exclaimed as he leaned back and slowly floated away a few feet. His body rose to the surface, chest, stomach and crotch right at the waterline. I couldn’t help but look. His swim trunks clung to him, all the air pushed out, and I could see his cock lying to the left. I could see how long it was flaccid and I could see he was cut, the head’s outline evident in the wet fabric clinging to it.

    I wanted to swim over and touch. To feel the shape of it with my fingers. I wanted to touch his chest and stomach or slide my hand down his legs feeling the hairs tickle my palm. I wanted to start something with him. We had the summer I thought, even if he didn’t want to hang out with me on campus. He rolled and went down out of sight and I wondered if that was how it was going to be. A moment of hope, some teasing display, then suddenly gone.

    I swam in the opposite direction back to the sand bar. I eased up the sloping bottom till the water was below my knees and I could dive back in. Water cascaded down in my face from my hair, blinding me, so using both hands I pushed my hair back. As I stretched my arms up it felt good. This exposure to the sun. The cool trickling water down my body with the contrast of warmth from the sun. I felt my near nakedness, and this feeling of being with nature, not just in it. I twisted my torso and with eyes closed tilted my head toward the sun feeling it warmth. I felt it on my face, chest, down over my stomach and even in my cock. It flexed, slightly aroused, from my trunks growing warm.

    Looking down to see where to dive I saw Nicolas looking at me. I smiled as I stood there a second longer than necessary letting him look. I wanted him to look. To see me. It made me feel aroused. I could feel my sex in a way not felt before. Openly, I adjusted my cock.  It felt half hard as it pushed against the wet trunks and I wondered how much Nicolas could see. I wanted him to see everything. I wanted him to see my cock, see how he affected me. I wanted him to see my body. I wanted him to touch it…to touch me.

    I was frustrating myself, so hands together, I dove. 

    When I broke the surface, it felt like I was rising out of different time and place. Nicolas had moved closer and we now faced each other. Those dark brown eyes were looking at me. Really looking at me, and only me. I felt his hand touch my stomach, just a light brush of fingers against my skin. 

    “At times I think I can read you, then other times…I’m not sure” Nicolas whispered. “I think you’re afraid of something. Me,  maybe? But then…”

    “I’m not afraid of you” I replied.

    He smiled and his hand raked upward over my chest. I moved toward him increasing the pressure of his touch. 

    “Then what is it?”

    “I was afraid you’d reject me.”

    “But why would I do that?” Nicolas replied moving closer till we were so close our knees bumped as we paddled in place, and my hand brushed his chest. I didn’t pull back but kept the contact as his hand rubbed over my chest, raking over each nipple. 

    I rubbed his chest as he was doing to me till he grabbed it and pulled as he swam toward the sand bar. I followed willingly, leaving my anxieties behind. 

    In the swallow water, only up to our ankles, he kissed me. I opened to him, felt his lips against my own. He pulled our bodies together and the bare contact between us was electric. I shivered with it and pressed myself tightly against him. It aroused me, made my cock flex and begin to get hard.

    When he pulled back, he went to his knees. I watched him move to me, his mouth working the front of my trunks, following the thickening shaft to the head where he toyed with me till I was panting. I felt his hands working to pull the drawstring, fingers sliding beneath the waistband and the tug down. The feel of those trunks sliding down my legs was exhilarating. I felt my exposure, a complete nakedness in this natural place. The trunks floated around my ankles as he angled his head and took me in his mouth. The head, then inch after inch of the shaft slipped through his lips, making me hold tightly to his shoulders. I thought I would fall over if I didn’t hold on to him.

    My cock grew rock hard quickly as his mouth worked along its length. I shuddered at the play of his tongue on the head and cried out when he took me all the way, the head of my cock in his throat, where he swallowed around it giving me new sensations. 

    “Please…slow down…” I uttered breathlessly.

    He released me and I watched my wet cock flex up and down. Then I was aware of him standing up. He kissed me again and I pressed my achingly hard cock against him, pushed with my hips while I moaned in his mouth. Then I pulled back and fell to my knees. 

    I didn’t mouth his cock through his trunks. I was too impatient. I pulled the drawstring loose and tugged them down capturing his cock in my mouth as I did so. His cock was like his body. Long and lean. I couldn’t take it all, settling on the manipulation of the head. I tongued the slit tasting the precum leaking from it, then swirled it around the arrow shaped head. I plunged my mouth down on it as far as I could, fisting the base as I did. I heard his breathing grow heavy, small grunts and moans escape from deep within him and knew I was pleasing him. He held my head and fucked his cock through my lips and over my tongue, pushing deeper and deeper till I gagged. 

    When he pulled out of my mouth I looked up, wondering how I could please him next.

    “Can I fuck you? Would you like that?” Nicolas asked and I nodded my head, then turned around and got on my hand and knees. The slow current swirled around my arms and legs as he moved down behind me. I felt his cock as he dragged it up and down my ass. I felt one hand hold me by the waist as his cock pushed against my tightness. I took a deep breath and relaxed, while pushing back. He breached my tightness and painfully stretched me open. I cried out and held my head down seeing my own cock leaking a clear drool of precum that fell to the water’s surface. I wanted it, wanted it bad, and pushed back taking another inch, then another. He held my waist with both hands and eased the rest of his long cock into me till his abdomen pressed against my ass. 

    “Fuck…you have all of me” he uttered as I felt him pull outward. It seemed to go on forever, the tug at my opening by his long shaft, then he pushed back in, slowly, letting me feel every inch of it again. Slowly, after several deep penetrations, his pace increased. His grip on my waist tightened as he began to fuck. It felt as if he was penetrating to the core of my being. Every thrust inward took my breath away. I rocked back as he pushed inward, wondering if he could go deeper, wanting him to go as deep as he could. I wanted him inside me, all the way.

    His abdomen smacked my ass, once, twice, then in rapid secession as he hammered my hole. My own cock was hard, flopping back and forth between my thighs, at times smacking wetly against my stomach. It seemed impossible, the depth he was penetrating me, but I wanted it, wanted it so bad I rocked back against him. 

    Then he pulled out leaving me feeling empty. 

    “Roll over.”

    I flipped to my back, lying in the swallow water. He took my legs, a hand behind each knee and pushed them over my body, then pinned them down by my chest. I was folded over, ass angled up and spread open for him. I felt the warm air blow over my exposed skin as cool waters swirled around me. I’d never felt so naked. He put his cock to my hole, and I watched it sink into me, inch after inch, till he was pressed against my ass. 

    “Fuck me. Fuck me” I pleaded as he began to move his hips. Upward, drawing out that long cock till it nearly slipped free, then he plunged it back into my depths. It felt like he was knocking the air from my lungs from the inside. I panted like an animal, urging him to fuck me, to fuck me harder.

    He held me down and hammered my hole. Fucked till his skin glistened wetly in the sunlight and his own breathing was ragged. And he kept fucking me. Fucking me till I felt on fire, my own body sweating merely from being on bottom. 

    Then his rhythm was off, his thrust harder, pushing in roughly. He cried out and jammed his cock into my depths, abdomen bouncing off my ass, as he came. He jerked and pushed against my ass till he was spent. When he raised up between my legs, I reached for my own cock, wanting to get off. He knocked my hand away, climbed over me pinning both to the sandy bottom. Using one hand to hold me down he reached back and took a hold of me. He toyed with my cock, fingers playing with the head till I was pushing upward and begging him to get me off. Then me lifted his ass up and over it. I felt him lower himself on my cock, felt the press against the head, then the squeeze as it breached his tight opening. He moved up and down, slowly, just an inch or so, working the head of my cock into this hole. Then he eased down all the way. The soft enveloping of my cock, the very warmth of his body was almost more than I could stand. Then there was the way the ring of his tight opening milked my shaft as it slid through. I shifted and he pressed down on my wrist harder and began to ride me. Upward then down, slowly at first so I could feel every inch slip through that tightness. But he quickly increased his pace and I watched his own cock bounce up and down, still leaking cum as my cock come into view then disappeared again inside his ass. He bounced off my abdomen over and over till I was pushing upward, doing anything to increase the sensations of this fuck. 

    It didn’t take long and I was crying out as my cock exploded in his ass. I thrust upward with every ejaculation till I was spent. Of cum, and any energy to move.

    I lay in the water’s edge with Nicolas on top. We were breathing hard and strangely in sync. He stirred first, still sitting on my lap, he kissed me. 

    “Bobby, that was nice” Nicolas whispered. 

    “Nicolas?”

    “Yes?”

    “Will you go out with me?”

    Nicolas laughed, then nodded his head, “Of course I’ll go out with you. Why do you think I went to all this trouble to get you alone, away from everybody?”

     

     

    The Summer draws to a close.

     

    I went around my room again, looking at books, video games, and clothes in the closet, trying to decide if I had everything I wanted to take with me to college. I had a box of video games and most of my clothes, but it still felt as if I was forgetting something. I went back into my nightstand and looked in each drawer. It was the bottom one that I found what I was forgetting. A bottle of lube and a blindfold Ryan bought at some novelty shop in Mobile. It was two items I could not let my mom find. I tucked them down into a zippered compartment of my suitcase and rolled it out.

    My car sat in the drive, hatch up, both doors open. It already had boxes inside it and by the time I got the rest of my things in, it would be packed solid. I heard someone coming down the drive and knew it was Ryan before he rounded the corner. We were going to follow each other to the university. It took some planning and luck on acceptance, but we managed to get into the same university. And we were sharing a dorm room after a bit more maneuvering on our part.

    It seemed like a door was opening, some transition to a new place, more so than the simple move to campus to begin college. I don’t know, maybe it’s the giddiness of getting a place Ryan and I can be alone. Seriously, just the two of us, alone.

    Bobby left yesterday. He was attending the other university in the state. The same one, I might add, that Nicolas is attending. We all had a big, long weekend down in Fort Walton. God, the noise that came from their room. Ryan and I couldn’t stop laughing about it. We gave them shit at breakfast every morning for the way they carried on. But it didn’t stop them, no sir, they just banged away the next night like it was their last.

    Elan told us last weekend Nicolas has never been happier. That in the past he had always been melancholy. Elan said he was sure Nicolas being somewhat morose was from knowing he was different and having to hide it for so long. But the past couple of months has seen a new cheerfulness. He was sure Bobby had a lot to do with it. Then he asked us if we knew how often the two of them went paddling up at the lake, and did they ever, just once invite us to go? I was surprised, for I didn’t know they had been to the lake. But it made sense, for the two of them were hooking up somewhere. That much was obvious.

    I stashed my last suitcase into the back seat and closed the passenger door. Ryan checked the hatch, making sure it is secure. I try not to look at him with mom and dad nearby. I know I look at him differently. I can feel it. In the last couple of weeks, I honestly think they are beginning to figure it out. Mom acts all nervous around Ryan and dad is standoffish. It’s more than I can handle at the moment. Ryan tells me not to, but I think Christmas is going to be a time of confession. We’ll see.

    As I watch Ryan get into his truck, a new bed cover stretched over the back to protect his things, I wonder if this feeling will stay with me, or if it’ll change into something else. Some different form of love.

    I know most couples don’t make it. I know first loves are called first for there are seconds and thirds to follow for most. So, what does the future hold for us. Not a fucking clue, but I know what we are planning. I know the goals we share, and the ones we don’t. I know none of it is more important to me than Ryan.

    I nod to Ryan as I check my car. I tell mom and dad I’ll be home one weekend next month, not sure which, hug them and climb in behind the wheel for the short two and a half-hour drive. Pulling away I follow Ryan. Down the drive and out onto the highway. As we accelerate up to speed, I know I will follow him anywhere.


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


  • Fit Intimations of sex.

    This is the the third of four short stories, which should be read in the following order:-

    Willy Wagstaff’s Double Whammy

    An Unlikely Friendship

    First Intimations of Sex

    Stranger than Fiction


    It was my first term at Ulverton, a public school for boys located in Northumberland, in a village of the same name, right on the Scottish border. My best friend, The Honourable Augustus Trent-Norton, or just plain Gus Trent as he was known to his schoolmates, was, like me a new boy. The two of us had been flung together in adversity as it were, when our house-captain, a quintessential, nasty piece of goods called Jamie Mackenzie, a really miserable, cane-wielding, sadistic Scott, had shredded our respective bare arses in quick succession. There was nothing exceptional about being caned on the bare, as that was the only way it was the so-called rod of justice was ever applied at Ulverton. But Gus had the misfortune to be the house-captain’s fag and as such was treated by him as a sort of whipping boy: Gus supplied a captive arse on which the house-captain could exercise his undoubted fondness for the cane whenever he wanted – which he did with frequently with considerable vigour!

    It was on that occasion, when our house-captain had made me watch him shredding Gus’s arse that he and I had really got to know one another. The house-captain had caught me running in the corridor – a definite no-no at Ulverton. I was waiting my turn to be thrashed for that cardinal misdeed, whilst Jamie was applying his final artistic embellishments to Gus’s arse, for some trumped up inadequacy in his duties as fag. Well to be clear, it was actually in the lavatory, where we both had gone in an attempt to ease the post-flagellation pain raging through our respective posteriors that our friendship was born.

    On the face of it, Gus and I were an unlikely pair, as our backgrounds were so totally different. He was the younger son of a peer of the realm – something I had learned only later – whilst I was the only son of a working-class owner of an ironmonger’s shop in Manchester. I had been plucked out of my working-class background by my mother, Mavis Wagstaff, a social climber if there ever was one, who, after my father had had a big win on the football pools, had decided that her only son should, henceforth, have a private education. And so at the age of eight I had been pulled out of the state school system, where, had I been asked, I would have happily remained with my friends. But I had no choice and was sent as a day-boy (my mother’s first mistake) to a local prep school and thence, aged thirteen, as a boarder to Ulverton, a public school for boys,

    But fact is often stranger than fiction and in spite of our very different backgrounds, Gus and I somehow clicked and became best pals; at least, during our early years at Ulverton together that is exactly what we were: just best pals. But as the hormones started coursing through our systems, we, as adolescent boys, suddenly became aware of sex and in our final two years at the school, we had become much more to each other than just best pals.I think I can safely say, that at the tender age of only eighteen Gus and I were more or less an item. We were already copulating with each other like rabbits. You know how it is; once you have experienced the joys of an orgasm, you can never have too much of it. If the Headmaster had known of our liaison, both Gus and I would have been out on our ears. But we were discrete and never got caught in flagrante.So we both completed our time at Ulverton and left, aged nineteen, superficially squeaky clean, to the world at large. If only they had known!

    Things were not made any the easier for us, as, although Gus and I were new boys together and members of the same house, Ogden’s, we shared neither the same dorm nor, indeed the same class. At Ulverton, each year’s new intake of boys was split between two first-form classes, of which fate had decreed that Gus be in the one and I in the other. But the bond , which developed between us as we sat together in the lavatory that day, each of us trying, with cold water – in vain, I might add – to ease the excruciating pain in our respective arses, was so strong and immediate that we became an inseparable pair thereafter for our entire time at the school. Outside of lessons and sleeping, we spent most of our time together. It was as if from day one we were joined at the hip. Over the years, indeed right through to the end of our final term at Ulverton together, having been regularly caught at some nefarious activity, we were often thrashed together by any one of a number of sadistic, cane-wielding zealots, including both prefects and our housemaster; and, one one awful occasion, by the Headmaster himself. I lost count of the number of times our housemaster said to us as he readied his cane to enervate our respective backsides of any feeling other then intense pain: “Not you two again; when will you ever learn?”

    But during that first year of our friendship, Gus was still our hated house-captain’s fag. So, in addition to getting his arse striped along with mine for any of the illicit scrapes in which we jointly found ourselves, poor Gus had still to contend, on a one-to-one basis with his cane-happy fag-master, our reveredhouse-captain, that sadistic Scottish sod, Jamie Mackenzie. Many were the times when, in the privacy of the lavatories, I found myself comforting my best friend and attempting to ease the pain raging in his arse by the application of a little Aloe Vera cream. The only positive thing one could say about Jamie Mackenzie, was that he was a real crack with the cane. He was one of the hardest caners at Ulverton during my first year at the school; and if not absolutely the hardest caner, he was certainly the most prolific. During that first year, Poor Gus was beaten by Jamie, probably once a week, for some piffling failing in his fagging duties.

    Only on one other occasion during that first year, did our house-captain once again roast my arse when he caught me not wearing a tie during the day. So it was with a joint sigh of relief, especially from Gus, whose arse, during that first year, had been embellished God knows how many times by Jamie’s cane, when the school year ended and he left Ulverton for pastures new at university. Of course, the post of house-captain is like night following day; as one incumbent leaves, so he is replaced the following year by another. But I can say that in my years at Ulverton, although we never had a house captain who did not exercise his authority to the full, we were never again lumbered with one as sadistic as Jamie Mackenzie. I did, years later, ask myself how Jamie had fared at university, as beating boys’ naked arses had become part and parcel of his life; it was almost as if he was addicted to the use of the cane as one becomes addicted to a drug. I did wonder if he would have withdrawal symptoms once he no longer had a subservient supply of naked arses on which he could vent his spleen and exercise what was obviously his lust for inflicting pain on others.

    On my arrival at Ulverton I had felt like a square peg in a round hole. Even though I had been through the wringer of a prep school education since the age of eight, as a day-boy I had never really fitted in there among the boys from better-off families who talked posh. So when I left my prep school to go to Ulverton as a boarder, I was still speaking with a broad, working-class, Mancunian accent. Add that to the fact that prior arrival at Ulverton, I had never lived in close proximity to or slept in a communal dormitory with other boys, none of whom had any hesitation walking about naked in front of their dorm mates. I was so shy at first that I was even embarrassed to have to strip naked and take showers with them. So it is not surprising, feeling utterly gauche as I did that I made a bad start on my studies that first month and was taken to task for it, first by a beating from the Headmaster himself; then, to my horror, an hour or so later, again by my housemaster.

    I have never understood to this day, what drew Gus and me together.

    But something did; but I have ever since been, in a strange way, grateful to Jamie Mackenzie, an otherwise totally hate-worthy, sadistic character, for having caught me running in the corridor which, by chance, led directly to my meeting Gus. I would gladly have taken any number of sore arses to maintain my friendship with Gus. As I spent more time with Gus, who was from the top drawer in English society, combined with the upper-class ethos which generally reigned at Ulverton, my Mancunian accent gradually began automatically to fade and I felt much less a sore thumb and more at home among my peers at the school.

    Just as Gus had told me he wanted to be an ordinary guy called Gus Trent, without all the rigmarole of the Honourable Augustus etc. clap-trap, and allowed his noble antecedent trappings, if not to whither, then to move backstage, so I saw that, influenced by the environment in which in now lived my daily life, that my own working class mentality was automatically fading away and was being replaced by the manners, accents, habits and, most importantly, the mind-set, of the group of boys with whom I now lived. Whilst the boys at Ulverton did not overtly look down on the working-class, there was a clear divide between Ulverton boys and the hoi-polloi, as the lower classes were referred to in school-speak, And gradually, I found I was becoming one of them; I was being automatically brain washed by my environment and was slowly turning into someone whom my parents would eventually not recognise.

    And so to come back to what I mentioned above, which I saw as my mother’s first mistake, I should have been sent immediately as a boarder and not as a day-boy to prep school. In coming home each evening as I had done, I was gaining nothing from the environment in which my peer group at prep school lived, an important step in preparing them for the rigours of their future lives as boarders at a public school. So in my start at Ulverton, I was doomed, from day one, to be that proverbial square peg in a round hole. It was to be my job, if I wanted to survive the experience, to knock the corners off that peg and make myself fit into my new environment.

    The second mistake my mother made with her best intentions for my future, was that in deciding on a form of education for me, totally foreign to our status in society, she had, quite unwittingly, started a process of alienation between me and my family. At Ulverton I was becoming accustomed to and accepted as the norm, a totally different style of life to the working-class life which I had formerly lived. I could see that by the time I left Ulverton, I would have little in common with my parents. Our views on the world and of life in general, would be totally different. It is not that I would love my parents any less or they me. But gradually we would both be going our own very different ways in life, with little anymore than blood in common between us.

    I date the start of my drift away from my working-class roots to the end of my first year at Ulverton. The Christmas and Easter vacations, I had, of course, spent with my parents in Manchester. But already, what few friends I had had in our street, looked askance at me, as I was longer, in their eyes, one of them. Not that I had ever truly been part of the community of local kids, as I had always been seen as an animal apart, due to the fact that I, alone in our street, went to a private school and was already considered to be posh – not that I actually was. So already, after only one year at Ulverton, I felt isolated and bored with life in what was my own home. I guess that I already knew, aged fourteen, as I then was, that I would never again live permanently in my parents’ house.

    My saviour was, of course, Gus. He in his own way felt just as isolated as me. His elder brother, Titus, heir apparent to the barony of Trent-Norton, was ten years older than Gus and worked in some government department in Whitehall. So as brothers, they had little in common. In fact, as I was later to learn, they did not even like each other, for one very good reason. During the the frequent absences of their father’s, Titus had taken it upon himself to act in loco parentistowards his younger brother, whose faults he had regularly corrected with the cane. Whether this had been by agreement with their father or not, Gus often found himself with a very sore arse delivered by his brother. So Gus, having been brought up in that grand tradition of upper-class families in which the cane was used as often at home as at school, was no newcomer to the thrashings he and I were to take together over our years at Ulverton.

    Gus’s father, Lord Trent, spent most of his time in London and was rarely at the family home, Trent-Norton Hall, located near to a village of the same name in Somerset. As Gus’s mother had died a few years previously, when he returned home for the long summer vacation, he was even more isolated from boys of his own age than I myself was. And that is how, that first summer, at his invitation, I spent the major part of the long vacation, with him at his ancestral home in Somerset.

    I had begun my first long vac, as it was called, by going home to my parents’ house. But a week later, I received a letter from Gus, inviting me to come to Somerset and spend the rest of the summer with him at at Trent-Norton Hall. I did not tell my parents that my best friend, Gus Trent, was a scion of the English nobility. And so, after some argument with my mother, I was provided with some pocket money and a third class ticket to Bath Spa railway station, where I was met by a welcoming Gus in his father’s chauffeur driven Rolls-Royce. If I tell you that Trent Norton was about twenty miles from Bath and was not served by any form of public transport, you will see how isolated we were and why Gus, rattling around by himself in his ancestral home felt lonely.

    But the fact that neither Gus’s father, the Noble Lord Trent, nor his brother, the Honourable Titus Trent-Norton, the heir apparent to the title, were in residence, seemed to have no incidence on the functioning of the house, which was staffed by a full complement of servants, whose sole purpose seemed to be to look after the needs of Gus and me. This was my first experience of how the other half lived. No, let me correct that statement; what I should have said was how that infinitesimally small percentage of the population, who were very, very rich lived. Even aged fourteen, I could see that the Trent-Nortons were stinkingrich. I could see why Gus felt lonely when he was at home, surrounded as he was by servants with no family around, other than an occasional weekend appearance by his father.

    I have to admit that the first time I met Lord Trent, I was very nervous, but his presence in our – Gus and my – lives was brief. After being introduced to him by Gus, on which occasion Lord Trent uttered a few traditional pleasantries, I never saw him again.

    That first visit to Trent-Norton Hall was the first of what was to become a permanent feature of my long vacations from Ulverton. Gus and I shared a bedroom in what was a huge mansion and I experienced for the first time how it was to live isolated from the reality of normal every-day life in the depths of the Somerset countryside with a bevy of dutiful servants to tend to our every need.

    The summer of my first stay at Trent-Norton was hot and dry – yes it does occasionally happen in England – and Gus and I had a wonderful time together, enjoying the freedom which came with the total absence of the restraining hands of any kill-joy adults. Well not quite without a restraint; Gus and I both suffered at the hands of Titus, his elder brother, who made, what was for Gus and me, an unwelcome appearance over a long week-end, with a group of friends from London – including, of course, some members of the opposite sex. Aged fourteen as we then were, Gus and I were not yet into girls, as it is now casually put. In fact as our friendship matured and we moved into adolescence, Gus and I never did get interested in members of the opposite sex as we both turned out to be what were then commonly referred to as queers or perverts; the more attractive and less aggressive word, gay, now virtually exclusively used to describe homosexual men, had not yet been appropriated by society at large to describe what Gus and I were.

    By the time we were both sixteen and becoming sexually mature, we suddenly realised what had for the past year been staring both of us in the face; we both had eyes only for other members of our own sex. Gus and I were unspoken and, as yet non-practising homosexuals. I am not sure that that either of us were even aware of the word homosexual; and as mentioned above, the modern adoption of the word gay to describe what Gus and I, in fact, were, was still not on the horizon. The slow realisation that we were not of the same sexual orientation as most of our classmates, was a revelation which was, in the next few years, to change our relationship for ever.

    But that first summer together at Trent Norton Hall, Gus and I were not only not into girls, but we were not really aware of the role that sex played in the world or of what it would ultimately play in our two lives. We were exactly as we appeared on the surface: a pair of naïve sexually-unaware, fourteen year-old schoolboys who enjoyed each other’s company. To say that the unannounced arrival of Titus and his friends was a fly in the ointment would be an exaggeration, but the presence of a group of bright young people from London, whom we did not know and with whom we had nothing at all in common other than the fact that one of them was Gus’s brother, did somewhat cramp our style. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Gus and I fell afoul of Titus, who accused us of insulting – I know not how – two of his lady friends and he was obviously out for our blood in retribution. Gus had already related to me, how in their father’s absence, Titus had, in the past, taken it upon himself to act in loco parentis and had, on several occasions, taken a cane to his younger brother’s bare arse.

    And that is exactly what he did to to the pair of us. We argued our innocence, but to no avail. Titus, accompanied by two of his male guests, gave us each twelve cuts across our bare bums with a really nasty rattan cane. No stranger at all to having my backside striped by a variety of cane-happy masters and prefects at Ulverton, I saw – or as I should more accurately say, I felt – that Titus was highly experienced in the art of flagellation. What set off as a six cut beating for Gus and me, quickly turned into a fully fledged arse roasting occasion for both of us. Urged on by his two friends, both of whom were almost salivating with with Schadenfreude as they watch us both me having our arses shredded by Titus, we each finished up with no less than twelve, well defined parallel stripes, neatly placed across our buttocks.

    As I was later to learn from Gus, his brother had been head-boy at his own public school somewhere in the south and had been universally hated because of his excessive use of the cane; and after one encounter with him, I could see why. After that very painful beating from Titus, I never ever saw him again. But he was, nevertheless, to influence my life profoundly many years later in a very unexpected way. Gus and I had been sharing a room, but that night, for the first time, we comforted each other in our painful misery, by sleeping together in one bed. There was nothing at all sexual in our actions, but looking back, I guess that that was the innocent starting point for our future sexual intimacy.

    THE END.


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


  • A Pair of Detectives

    Shockley

    – 1 –

    Tuesday

    “So…Mrs. Shockley, does your husband, have a girlfriend or, uh, girlfriends?” the burly broad-shoulder lightly bearded towering detective asks her as he cowers over her petite form.

    “NO!” she balks, “NO! Of course, not! Why would you ask me such a question as that?”

    “We have, too,” the Detective explains.

    The comment appalls her, which is ever apparent on her congenial face. A light dusting of make-up highlights her still somewhat youthful features.

    “A boyfriend, perhaps?” the Detective poses his next question, “Does your husband, have a boyfriend?”

    “WHAT? WHAT?” she says with obvious alarm, “What are you, saying, Detective?”

    “Does your husband have a steady male companion?” the Detective approaches the subject in a different manner, delicately.

    “Like friends?” she asks, “You mean, like childhood friends?”

    “No, like companions,” he interjects, “Like a wife? Like you.”

    “He plays golf with a doctor,” she answers, “A childhood friend, who is a doctor.”

    “A doctor?” the Detective asks, “Who?”

    “Doctor Kilgore,” she says, “Mills Kilgore. He is a childhood friend.”

    “So, you do not think he has a girlfriend?” the Detective asks, again.

    “NO! My husband is a good man. He would never ever do such a thing,” she says adamantly, “He does not have a boyfriend, either, or that is absolutely ludicrous.”

    “We have to ask, Ma’am,” the Detective says, “Since your husband has been missing for over twenty-four hours, now, and you say, you do not know where he is.”

    “Please find him. This is so unlike him,” she pleads, a sorrowful tone in her words, “Find my dear husband. Please.”

    “If you have any more information that can help us,” the Detective hands her his business card, “Give me a call but you know he is of legal age and can disappear if he wants.”

    “Thanks, Detective Kincaid, that may be true, but not in husband’s case,” she says as her long lithe fingers take the square embossed business card into her hand, “I will. I will.”

    “Thank you, Mrs. Shockley,” Detective Kincaid says, “Please, let us know if you hear from your husband.”

    “I will,” she says as she closes the front door behind the Detective as he exits with his partner.

    The bobby-suit dressed pair of detectives walks down the winding concrete walkway from the front door to the curb where the unmarked car, is parked.

    “Do you believe her, Raymond?” his partner asks.

    “I do. I do,” Detective Kincaid says as he looks back to the front of the house, seeing the wife of the missing man standing behind the sheer curtains on the front window, “I believe her.”

    “Why’d you ask her if her husband had a boyfriend?”

    “I suppose since many men have secret girlfriends, these days, why not ask the same about boyfriends?” Kincaid says.

    “Since the gays can get married now, too, I assume,” his partner says, “Why not have boyfriends behind the wife’s back, right.”

    “You got it,” Kincaid says, “You know anything is possible on this job.”

    His partner nods his head as they get into their parked curbside vehicle.

    -2-

    “Coastal Orthopedic Associates, Dr. Mills Kilgore’s office. How may I help you, today? I am Maria.”

    The young woman’s voice comes from over the other end of the phone, in a soft sweet lyrical in tone.

    “Yes. I am Detective Raymond Kincaid with the Sarasota Police Department,” he says, “Can I speak with Dr. Kilgore, please, about a pressing police manner?”

    “Detective. Dr. Kilgore is not here,” the receptionist says, “He is at the gym.”

    “Which gym, Maria?”

    “The Athletic Club,” she answers, “the gym he owns with some more doctors.”

    “On US 41?”

    “Yes, sir, the branch on North Tamiami Trail.”

    “Thank you, Maria.”

    He hangs the phone up.

    -3-

    “Hey, Quince, I am gonna go out for a bit. I’ve got something I gotta do.”

    “Where you goin’?” his partner asks him as he looks up from his desk, directly across from Raymond’s.

    “The gym.”

    “Does this have anything to do about the doctor, partner?” Quince asks.

    “Naw, I need to go clear my head. I need to get some endorphins pumping. A good workout helps me get the good ole brain cells charged,” He explains, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

    “S’kay. Have yourself some fun, partner.”

    “I will,” Kincaid says as he exits the office.

    -4-

    His loafer-shoes echo across the ornate cobblestone walkway from the parking lot to the entranceway to the gym. This is one of the most exclusive gyms in town. The cost of membership bears out that fact. On a detective’s salary, it puts quite a strain on his finances but being a bachelor has some advantages.

    At the doorway, he looks to the right and sees the placard of the establishment. It was bought a few years back by Dr. Mills Kilgore and a group of doctors.

    “Ah, there it is,” Kincaid, says aloud as he openly reads what is written there, “So Robert Shockley is the Captain financial officer of The Athletic Club. Interesting. Why didn’t Mrs. Shockley mention the gym?”

    He brushes his fingers over the words on the emblem with the valuable information on it. He connects with what he has never noticed on his many treks to the gym.

    He grasps hold of the metal door, opens it, and is greeted by the bustling noise of an active gym. In his hand, is his membership card, he flashes it before the girl seated behind the reception desk.

    “How are you, today, Mabry?”

    Before him, sits an athletic woman, early twenties, attired, as someone would be in such a place.

    “I am good, Detective. How are you?” she answers with a broad smile on her face. Her face speckled with an abundance of freckles.

    “I am well. Is Doctor Kilgore here, today?”

    “I think he just went into the changing room. He is the one in the red shorts and a red striped shirt,” she chimes in with a look of profound puzzlement on her fresh young face.

    “Thanks, Mabry.”

    “Sure, Detective,” she says before she moves on to the next member standing behind him in line waiting to present their card.

    As he walks to the men’s changing room. He loosens his tie. Letting himself breath, more relaxed. His blue gym bag hangs over his right shoulder, filled with his workout shorts, sneakers, and toiletries.

    He is greeted by the musky smells of men and the sounds of many showers in the background as he walks to his locker on the tile floor of the locker room. This is the damp hallowed hall for men and a sacred sanctuary for those who seek to increase their masculine vigor.

    His head darts from left to right, looking for the man dressed as Mabry described.

    He sees him.

    The 40-something year old man stands before the dressing room mirror. A single digit whips through a left eyebrow, soothing out a whirly detached hair, putting it back in place. The man is vain, Kincaid ponders in his head. He wears red because he wants to be noticed.

    Kincaid walks to his locker, directly across from the sinks and the room length mirror to his assigned and bought locker.

    Doctor Kilgore looks around the room before he lets his right-hand wander to his groin, as he gives himself, a hearty tug, letting his hand grasp tight on his swelled package, squeezing it within his hand.

    He lifts his head and stares eye-to-eye into Kincaid’s face through a mirrored reflection.

    Kilgore nods his head at the Detective. The Detective returns the favor.

    -5-

    Kilgore walks from the mirror, opens a locker close to Kincaid, where a pair of sneakers are tossed about with a pair of half-socks. Kincaid has hung his coat on a hanger he keeps dangling in his locker. He unsnaps the sleeves of his shirt and begins to unsnap the rest. His chest comes into view as he yanks the shirt from the inside of his pants.

    Kincaid glances toward the good doctor as his red striped polo shirt is pulled over his head. His chest is equally muscled as his own with a similar pattern of masculine fur. He cannot divert his eyes, away. He is amazed of the man’s strength.

    The good doctor runs his hands over his chest, in front of Kincaid, he lingers a second longer than he should on the mountains of red flesh that is his nipples. This stimulation and the coolness of the locker-room stiffen the flesh into hard daggers.

    Kincaid’s own nipples react to the display before him.

    He kicks off his loafers as the good doctors red shorts fall on the tile floor. The doctor is ‘going commando.’ His cock reacts to the exhibition and begins to grow hard. The doctor stands and places each hand on either hip, he bends forward, then back, doing little feeble exercises.

    With each twist and turn, his cock, reacts to the exercise by swelling.

    Kincaid looks at the doctor while the maneuvers continue by the nude man.

    Other men have walked by them, emerging from the streaming hot showers as the doctor continued with his deliberations. None said anything, but they were watching the doctor busy about his task.

    “I’m Mills,” the doctor says as he extends his hand while his cock wags from his hurried movements.

    Kincaid stands in his black body-hugging briefs. A bulge of male hardness is obvious to him and the doctor.

    “Raymond. I am Raymond,” he introduces himself as he extends his hand to shake with the naked man.

    “Nice to meet ya, Raymond,” the good doctor says to him as he turns and trudges to the shower room.

    The doctor’s swaying bare ass with its prickly dark hairs covering his fleshy round buttocks, its firmness, showing years of well-regimented exercise, has worked. Kincaid wipes his tongue across his lips, an autonomic response, unconscious, in its entirety.

    Raymond drops his black briefs and steps out of their reeking muskiness. The hours of sweat and masculine abundance gather in the ‘cup’ of the well-formed underwear. His hand drifts to his crotch, adjusting the length of his cock as he fishes its snaky length from his dense sweaty pubes.

    He leans in and grabs his cotton shorts from his exercise bag. The cool air of the locker-room washes over his hairy body as he stands, naked, among the other men, who, are walking about in this ‘man’ sanctuary, in the same state of similar undress.

    He flings his dirty briefs, socks, and loafers into the long upright locker. He places his duffle bag on the shelf above his coat and slacks.

    He can hear the loud boastful voice of Doctor Kilgore as he over-talks the other men in the shower room. He is quite the loud-mouthed braggart.

    Raymond squirrels up his shorts, over his legs, minus a jock or underwear, and flings a loose tee over his head. He slips on his tennis shoes, minus any socks and darts out the door of the locker-room into the weight room.

    The last sound he hears as the door closes behind him is that of the doctor.

    “Oh, yeah, it was great, one of the best I have ever had.” After this sentence by the doctor is a hearty laugh and fierce giggle from the man.

    Raymond cups his fingers under his balls as he heads to the dumbbells against the far wall of the gym. His cock waggles loosely in his flimsy shorts, much as the good doctors did when he met him in the locker-room.

    -6-

    Raymond sits on the bench press, spreads his legs, placing the 15 lb. dumbbell in his hand, and does a slow and steady repetition. The weight feels good in his hand. It is not a strain or too much for him. He does a set of 10 before letting the arm, rest, before transferring the weight to his left hand. He does a set of 10 with that arm. His bicep is flexed.

    He looks up to the mirror that covers the wall in front of him. He can see the front entrance to the gym. Men are milling about between the weight machines and the all-encompassing weight machines, doing their exercises. There are a few women, although the men overshadow their meager numbers.

    He leans down and sets the weight on the red carpet of the floor. The carpet is threadbare, in need of replacing, to charge such high membership prices, there is neglect in the facility.

    As he sits with legs parted, his cock snakes out of his cotton shorts, his cockhead peeking out from between his legs. He does not bother to push his member back in place, as there is no one near him to see.

    He does more reps with both hands as he hears the booming voice of the doctor as he exits the changing room. A small duffle bag is slung over his shoulder and a flashing of white teeth greets those as he talks to them in the somewhat crowded weight room.

    Raymond places the weight back into their proper place and watches the good doctor work the room.

    He lets his hands drift to his groin. He fiddles with his cock, as many of the men do when they workout, a sign of masculinity and a show of dominance and one-upness. The doctor’s hand seems quite centered in the same spot as he nods and cajoles the men he meets on his exit from the gym.

    Doctor Kilgore walks to the dual glass-paned door.

    Stopping.

    “Mabry, if there is any trouble. Call me,” he says as he opens the door and walks out into the sunlight.

    “Yes, sir,” she yells across the room.

    Kincaid walks to the door, looking out into the parking lot. He reaches to his right pocket. His car keys are there.

    He nonchalantly feels the head of his cock rub against his fingers as he fishes the keys out of his pocket. He pushes on the door, feeling the pressure in the room, equalize, as the bright afternoon sun causes his eyes to blink.

    -7-

      South Tamiami Trail is not busy as he trails behind the doctor, who is in his sleekly polished black Benz, the rays of the afternoon reflecting off its surface, drawing the ire of those he negotiates with on the road. He weaves in and out of the traffic, all seven lanes of it, and three on the southbound side. He does not lose sight of it but does maintain his distance, as he does not want to be spotted by hectic driving doctor.

    He feels the phone vibrate in his shorts. A shiver shoots through his groin where the phone nuzzles against his soft flesh of his leg, it was in the other pocket of his shorts when he bolted from the gym like a maniac behind Doctor Kilgore.

    “Hello? Well, hi, Mr. Shockley. Yes. Yes. I am looking for your husband.”

    He listens to her yammer on the phone, as a red light momentarily stops him, three cars in the lane behind the good doctor.

    “Mrs. Shockley, may I call you back, later? I am not able to talk, presently.”

    The woman carries on with her droning words as the light turns green and the traffic proceeds southward.

    “My partner said I was at the gym. Yes. I was but I am in traffic now. Yes. Yes. I will call you back. Good day, Mrs. Shockley.”

    The seven-lane road gives way to a divided four-lane with a grassy median as he passes out of the city limits of the city on US 41.

    “So does the good doctor live in Venice?” the Detective says aloud as the wind whips through his convertible, fanning his hair and his cut-off shirt in the fierce breeze as it cascades through the open convertible.

    The Detective’s hand finds its way to his groin. His cock hangs out the very short leg of his flimsy cotton shorts. As he drives, he fingers with a delicate touch, his crown head of cock, tiny clear drops of his juice leak like a dripping spigot from his piss-slit. He smears this juice over his cockhead as his full 10-inches poke out of his shorts.

    He often drives around with his prodding finger in this same place, smearing his juice over the red swelled bulbous head of cock.

    “Aw, he is turning into the road going to Casey Key.”

    He is not surprised many of the wealthy in town live there. Why wouldn’t a well-established orthopedic surgeon live there, who also happens to own several well-known businesses?

    He can see the black car as it crosses over the short drawbridge and turns right, north toward the tip of the island. He lingers back but drives on and makes the same turn. He creeps northward on the winding paved road. Out of the corner of his right eye, he glimpses a dark shade of black, perhaps it is the good doctor’s signature Benz. It is. It is parked behind a red Jeep.

    “Damn!” he shouts, “It is.”

    He pulls to the side and parks his car next to a divider and a mailbox between a neighbor’s driveway, filled with shells and white stones. He opens his driver side door and places his foot onto the asphalt of the road. He is not exactly dressed now for a stakeout, but he is curious. When he searched online for information about the doctor, before he went to the gym, the address he found had no such home on Casey Key as his residence for him.

    Who lives here?

    -8-

    He walks up the driveway, there are red brick spacers between the concrete as it leads around the circular driveway. Like a stealth cat on the hunt for its prey, he makes his way towards the front door. He stops when he hears voices from inside the house.

    “I told you I would be here,” the voice says, loudly, it is not of the doctor. It is that of a young man, “I do what I say. I just got here from Tallahassee, about an hour ago. No. No. My parents are not expecting me until tomorrow.”

    He stands on the side of the house as he peers through a curtain-less window. From his vantage point, he sees a shock of bright auburn hair and the pale skin of shirtless young man. Freckles dot the young man’s exposed chest, in the center of this well-defined chest, is a patch of fur. The dusting is light about his perky nipples, on his right muscled pectoral are three letters, F-S-U, emblazed in the colors of garnet and gold of the university.

    He also sees the good doctor, who is also shirtless, wait, he is stark naked. They are pressed groin against groin, grinding into one another like rabid farm animals consumed with lust.

    “Oh!” the Detective says, aloud, “Ah, ain’t this interesting.”

    “Can I help you, Mister?” a man’s voice from behind him with a Latin accent startles him from his voyeurism.

    “Oh! What?”

    “Can I help you?” the man asks.

    “Oh! I was looking for the meter,” Kincaid says as he runs from the driveway in a hurried haste, “I gotta go. Bye.”

    -9-

    He bolts to the convertible, turns the keys still in the ignition and drives north, where he makes a hasty turnabout at the unrestricted entrance at the home of the horror writer, Stephen King’s looming white modern abode. Midnight Pass is just beyond the King house and the southernmost end of Siesta Key.

    He must now pass by the home where the good doctor, Kilgore, is walking around naked, in a home that is not his own. He revs up his engine as he barrels by the home. The gardener is not waiting for him and the black Benz, belonging to the doctor, is still parked in the driveway near the front door.  Now back to the gym, to finish his workout. As he rides over the drawbridge, the clunk-clunk of the rubber tires on the metal grates reminds him that he is re-entering the world and not the lushness of the pampered.

    His head is filled with more questions than he has answers.

    Why does the doctor stand naked with a college-aged youth?

    Why didn’t Mrs. Shockley reveal that her husband was a business colleague of the Doctor Kilgore?

    What place does the red-haired kid have to do with the good doctor?

    He has more questions than answers. Perhaps the gym will help him sort out some of his queries. He did tell Quince that the gym does help him, think. Now, he will see.

    His hand once again drifts to his cock, which has once again, poked its sly cockhead from his short workout wear. His soothes his leaking man-cream over his cockhead. The sight of the doctors naked and bare body, both at the gym, and then at the house, was quite an inviting sight in which to behold. The red-haired hunk is awkwardly handsome, in a virginal sort of a way, it was too bad he failed to see him, nude, as he did that of the doctor.

    -10-

    He pulls back into the parking lot. His car bumps into the concrete stationary placer in the parking stall in the open-air lot. His cock has shrunk back down to its flaccid length, no peering head from out of his short shorts. The parking lot is fuller now, so getting the weights he may want will be difficult.

    “Oh well,” he sighs as he trudges across the parking lot.

    It is then his phone vibrates in his pocket.

    He reaches in, his shorts sliding down, revealing some of his pubes to the bright afternoon sunlight.

    “Hello?”

    On the other end is his partner, Quince Wilkie.

    “Hey, Quince, what’s up?”

    “I just got told that someone saw your car down at Casey Key, someone took down your tag,” Quince tells him.

    “Oh!”

    “Was this about the Shockley man?” Quince asks.

    “Yeah, make up, something, for me,” Raymond asks, “Dammit it, tell’em something, I will explain it to you later.”

    “Oh okay, I will,” Quince says, “Are you still out there?”

    “No, I am back at the gym.”

    “Okay,” Quince says, “Bust a nut for me.”

    -11-

    The noise of the gym fills his ears as he walks through the double glass doors. He blinks his eyes, adjusting to the diffused light inside the gym. The clanking of metal against metal as the many weight bars makes their contact against the bench is a reverberating sound through the warehouse-like room. The numerous huffs and puffs along with the bellowing groans and moans as each man strains against the heavy burden of the solid weights as they raise and lower them above their chest.

    “Detective. Detective,” the sound of a female voice draws closer, as though she is hurrying to approach him.

    He turns and is to be happily greeted by the gym’s receptionist.

    “Mabry!”

    “Detective, I was told to give you this,” she says as she hands him a folded piece of paper.

    “Who is this from, Mabry?”

    “Doctor Kilgore,” she answers.

    “Oh, okay, thanks,” he says, frankly and surprised.  

    He turns the yellow piece of paper, around and around in his hand. He does not open it but walks to the dumbbells, where he was, before he took off, to tail the doctor.

    His hand rests in the groove of his thigh, between his cock and his right leg.

    He knows he needs to read it but is the gym, the right place to do it.

    He looks up. Mabry is watching him from behind the counter at the front door.

    The note that he has been flipping and rolling in his hand, he slides it into his pocket, next to his keys and cell phone. While his hand is in his pocket, a finger finds its way under his balls, fiddling with his cum vessel, his cock stiffens.

    He looks up again to see Mabry looking at him.

    Once she sees that he does not look at the note. Her hand goes to the phone and makes a call.

    Kincaid reaches for the same weights he had before the chase.

    Whom did she call?

    -12-

    “Damn, maybe this was not such a hot idea,” he says as the sweat streams off his naked body. He shifts in his seat on the subway tile that is under his bare ass.

    After his workout, he decided to take a much-needed siesta in the steam room. He is all alone in this solitary environment. He runs his right hand across the wet hairs of his chest. His hand leaves his chest and falls to his cock and within his tight grasp. He strokes his cock, watching it grow hard with each succeeding stroke. He is flushed, from both the wet heat and his own sexual gratification.

    He spreads his legs, wider, accommodating, the massive swelled cock betwixt his open outspread legs. The more he beats his meat, the more the sweat rolls off him, like a flooded river.

    He wipes his right hand across his forehead. He smells his musky semen as his hand neared his nose.

    In the hot mist of the steam room, the door is opened. He does not hide his erection as his solitary moment has ceased. He has company.

    “Hi!”

    His eyes drift to what he sees scrawled on the guy’s chest.

    A tattoo. A simple tattoo.

    A word.

    Initials.

    F-S-U.

    It is the redhaired kid.

    -13-

    “Hey,” the kid says as he parks his ass on the tile seat of the sauna.

    The kid unashamedly whisks his tongue across his rosy lips, as the heat of the room begins welling-up the sweat from his pores, as the beads of man-perspiration breaks out over his pale naked frame.

    The kid’s eyes have not left the sight of his looming hard cock. It is the proverbial elephant in this very small room.

    Kincaid spreads his legs, wider, and gently smoothed an abundance of his man-cream over his slippery wet cockhead with the thumb of his right hand.

    Raymond brings his two hands to his chest, raking all ten of his fingers through the matted down hairs. Each swipe of his individual nails makes a red spiky trail as his skin reacts to being plowed through by his digits.

    “Looking good,” the kid says as his own hand, swaggers down to his red-auburn colored bushy mop of pubes, before clutching his own swelling cock between his legs.

    “Not so bad, yourself, there, kid, uhh, nice cock, you got there,” Raymond Kincaid, the Detective, comments and smiles, ear-to-ear to the alluring and actively stroking kid seated next to him as each man, matches, stroke for stroke, on their hard cocks.

    -14-

    “You work out here much, kid?” Raymond asks as he smears a gob of his clear leaking cum over the bloated rosy-red glan-head of his cock.

    “I come here, when I am in town,” the kid says.

    “When you are home?”

    “Yeah, I am in college,” the pale lad says, his chest muscles flexing as his double-strokes his cock with both hands of his burly hands.

    “Florida State?”

    “Yeah, this is an F-S-U, I have tatted on my pec,” the kid says.

    “You a ball player? I mean, football player?”

    “Yeah, I am,” he says.

    “You are compact and built like a brick house.”

    “Thanks,” the kid says as he brings his fingers under the curvature of his ass, scooting to the edge of the tile seat as his long index finger snakes closer to the entrance of his ass.

    “You shave that ass of yours, I see,” Kincaid says.

    “I do,” he says, “…but I like my pubes, like a bushy mop. How ‘bout you?”

    “I like them,” Kincaid says, “I am quite hairy, myself.”

    The kid slides closer to edge, parting his legs like the mighty Red Sea, his shaved hole presented like a beacon of light on a foggy night. The mist of steamy sauna wafts through the room, as the soft folds of his ass, is a lighthouse in a storm.

    Raymond stands, his cock, bouncing like a tensed spring from his groin as he squats before the meal between the kid’s thighs.

    Raymond’s tongue laps the shaved corridor between the powerful thighs of the pale lad.

    “AHHHHH!”

    The moans commence with the first insertion of Raymond’s tongue into the young man’s slobbering hole. His tongue slithers between the skin-line divided seam that parts the man’s body in half. This tickling causes more moans to escape from the kid’s mouth.

    Raymond travels up the seam, taking the young red-haired buck’s nuts into his mouth, rolling the fleshy globes around in his mouth, sucking on them like the Mega-Jaw Breakers that they mimic in size.

    “Suck my cock, Mister,” the kid orders.

    “I’m Kincaid, boy.” Raymond says as he takes the pale fleshy missile in his mouth, swallowing the dick all the way down his gullet. This rod of flesh makes the Detective gag and sputter under the length.

    “Take it, man, take my cock,” the kid draped in a perpetual stream of body sweat yells.

    Raymond gargles the boy’s leaking protein that is gushing out of the pee-hole of the Irish Adonis. Both boy’s hands are forcing him down more and more onto the fleshy pole from boy’s impressive loins. He gulps and gulps down the boy’s knob as more of the young man’s juice is expelled from the impressive cock of Irish young god.

    “What’s your name, kid?”

    The kid bucks his hips as Raymond’s tongue slides on the underside of his upright pointing cock. A cock that is so hard, so erect, it resembles a compass pointing to unseen stars above.

    “James. My name is James,” the kid answers.

    “Nice to meet ya, James,” with these words, Raymond swallows the pulsating cock, down to its eternal root, the pubes tickling the hairs on the inside his nose.

    He blows out this unwelcome sensation as the boy dumps his load, deep down Kincaid anxious and waiting esophagus.

    James applies pressure to Kincaid’s head, not allowing him to lift his head from the boy’s knob. This was not a concern, as Raymond does not let such virile man-cream escape from crossing his lips.

    Raymond Kincaid, prominent Detective on the Sarasota Police Department, does not waste the valuable protein of young upstanding men. He likes such deposits from the ready and willing. This kid is more than happy to appease such a request.

    -15-

    As the detective lifts his head from the boy’s schlong, he has learned some valuable information and gotten a special offering.

    “Thanks, Mister,” James says as he scurries out of the steam room, his cock, still leaking some of its leftover cum.

    “Sure. Anytime.”

    The Detective does not leave the steam room behind the young hunk of a buck named, James. He waits. Although he is drained, physically, from the heat, he does not want to scare the kid away nor alarm the wandering men, in the locker room, he knows who peeked through the glass door of the steam room and saw what was happening but did not enter. He knows the men looked, many participate in similar activities, themselves, and they do not want to divulge to the world what happens in the Men’s Locker Room at The Athletic Club.

    -16-

    The cool air of the locker room hits him as he emerges from the steam room. He feels the goose bumps rise over his body. His cock withdraws deep into his body, in reaction to this change in temperature.

    As he turns on the showerhead, feeling the cool water wash over him, he takes in a deep breath. He shakes the sensation he feels from his mind.

    The taste of the kid’s spunk still overwhelms his taste buds. The kid was quite the gusher. The amount of spunk he delivered in his mouth is reminiscent of his younger days when he shot the same sizeable loads.

    He misses those days, but he is also happy to be the man, he is now.

    For a forty-two-year-old man, still with all his own hair, a slight paunch around his midsection and a cock that still works which provides him with many hours of self-encouragement, he is pleased. He keeps a shadow of facial hair on his face, despite the Captain’s repeated attempts to shave more. He likes the stubble. He likes the roughness, the edge that it evokes when he questions those that are involved in not-so-legal activities.

    He steps from the shower, rinsed off, and feeling refreshed and full of a young man’s essence. Today was a good day at the gym.

    As he steps from the communal showers into the locker room, he catches a fleeting glimpse of a striking shock of red hair as James exits from the changing room out into the world.

    The kid is gone. Perhaps, now is the time to read the note, left to him from the good doctor.

    -17-

    He grabs two drab olive-green towels from the bin, throwing one around his neck and the other, he roughly brushes his fingers threw his hair. The noise of the locker room is sedate. Many of the men have left. The towel goes from the crown of his head to his groin, wiping the water from his thick furry mop and stirring his cock, once again, back to life.

    He may have coaxed the white seed from the kid, but he has yet to release his own, but it is early, there is still the night.

    On the floor in front of his locker, there are his shorts, gathered in a heap on the tile. The note pokes out the pocket, easily seen by him.

    He parks his ass on the wooden bench. His ass cheeks part as one of the three individual lats, separates them, opening his dark passageway.

    He likes that feeling.

    He reaches for the note and opens it.

    The words are sparse, but the meaning is clear.

    It reads:

    Call me 555-1269 Doc K

    The words on the note are unexpected, but he will not reject such a blatant come-on from a prominent doctor in Sarasota. He will take it, but the evidence had already pointed to the fact that the good doctor cheats on his wife, many men, do.

    Why not a man of who has a well-known reputation and a doctor?

    -18-

    Wednesday

    Kincaid walks into his office. Detective Wilkie is already seated behind his desk.

    “About time you got here,” Quince moans, “We have to go.”

    “Where?” Raymond says.

    “Mrs. Shockley,” Quince says, “She called and said we need to go back to her house. Apparently, she has found something concerning her missing husband.”

    “Oh?”

    “Oh, is right,” Quince says, “You wanna drive?”

    “NO! You drive.”

    -19-

      “So, she didn’t say what she had found?” Raymond asks his partner as they both stroll back up the walkway that had been on the day before.

    “Nope, she just said we needed to come back,” Quince says, “You take the lead.”

    “Okay.”

    He does a few tapping raps on the massive front door. The sound carries through the vestibule on the other side of the door.

    The door opens.

    “Hello.”

    As the door is opened, a familiar face greets the hulking Detective.

    “Detective!” a singsong voice comes from behind the person who greeted him.

    “Well, ask, the Detective in, Jaime, quite dallying, young man,” Mrs. Shockley says, “It’s too hot to be standing with the door open.”

    “Come in, come in, Detectives,” the young man named Jaime, ask the pair in.

    As the Detective passes by the young man, he whispers, where only the two of them can hear.

    “I thought your name was James, Red.”

    -20-

    “Have a seat, Detectives,” the smartly dressed woman says, “Detectives. This is my son, Jaime Riley.”

    “Is your name, James, Mr. Riley?” Raymond the Detective asks.

    He has his own questions that need answering from this young man. He can still taste the young man’s spunk in his mouth.

    “No, it is Jaime, Detective,” his mother answers for him, “He is named after his father.”

    “So, Mr. Shockley is not his father?”

    “Hell, no!” the young red-haired compact football answers, readily, “He is my step-dad, my second one.”

    “Alright, Jaime,” Mrs. Shockley says, “Now is not the time.”

    “Mrs. Shockley, you have been married three times?”

    “Yes, Detective Kincaid, I was my husband’s secretary before we got married,” she freely gives, “It was one of those typical office romances you hear about.”

    “Oh!” Raymond sighs.

    “Yes, Mother, just like your second marriage, uhhh?” Jaime pipes in, his words, whiny and petty.

    The two Detective’s look to each other, the display of a spoiled child in the body of a grown man, irritates the men.

    “So, you told my partner, you had something for us?”

    “Yes,” she answers while she leans over and opens a drawer on the side table of the sofa where she and her son are seated.

    She places an address book.

    A little black book.

    A memento of the past before the advent of the many electronic devices, which can store the same numbers for safekeeping and the same purpose.

    She slides the little black book across the coffee table and directly in front of him.

    “Take a gander, Detective,” she says, “I was shocked.”

    Kincaid picks up the book and thumbs through the many pages before he makes a comment.

    “Interesting,” he says.

    “What?” Quince the Detective says, “What is it?”

    “There is nothing in it?” Raymond says.

    “Oh?” Quince says.

    “Why did you call us, Mrs. Shockley?” Raymond says, “I hope an empty address book is not all you have.”

    “No, Detective,” she says, as she adds a cell phone to the coffee table between the gathering, “I have a cell phone.”

    “Your husband does not have his cell phone?”

    “This is not my husband’s cell phone,” she says, “At least not one that I have ever seen before, anyways.”

    “Thank you, Mrs. Shockley,” Quince says.

    “It has been over twenty-four hours since I have seen my husband,” the woman pleads, “Have you, gentlemen, found anything?”

    “We are still investigating, Mrs. Shockley,” Raymond says, “There is an active investigation.”

    “We will contact you when we find something,” Quince says as he stands.

    -21-

    “Whatcha think, Ray?” Quince asks, “Is the husband screwing around on her?”

    “I am not sure. I am not sure.”

    “So how was that workout, yesterday?” his partner asks, “Why didn’t you wait on me to go with you. You know we usually do our time at the gym, together. You need a spotter.”

    “I had one of my, uhh, ‘feelings’.”

    “Yeah, I know about those ‘feelings’ of yours,” Quince says, “Does that have anything to do with you being on Casey Key, yesterday?”

    “It does. Since you brought it up,” Ray says, “Let’s go on down to the Key and check my hunch.”

    -22-

    “Is this where your tag was read, yesterday?” Quince asks as the unmarked patrol car pulls into the paver driveway of the home, behind a car already parked there. This is where Ray had visited the day before.

    “Yep.”

    “Who lives here?” Quince asks.

    “This is where the good doctor was yesterday.”

    “Oh,” Quince sighs.

    “…and so was Mrs. Shockley’s son.”

    “OH! DAMN!” Quince says with much alarm.

    “The doctor was naked, sportin’ a massive hard-on and, the kid, Jaime, was shirtless, standing in the front of him,” Ray explains.

    “Whoa!” Quince gasps, “You think the two were foolin’ around?”

    “Yeah, I do.”

    Ray knocks on the door. He knocks and knocks before it finally opens.

    In front of him, stands the Mexican gardener that had spotted him, yesterday. The man is shirtless, dressed in a pair of snug shorts. He is quite handsome.

    “You?” the man says, once he realizes the familiar face.

    “I am Detective Kincaid, this is my partner, Detective Wilkie,” he says, “Is Dr. Kilgore home?”

    “There is no doctor, here, Mister,” the man says.

    “Well, his car is here. That black car.”

    “That is not the doctor’s car. It is his brothers,” the man explains, there is marked puzzlement in his tone.

    “We would like to speak to him, please.”

    “You see that gate over there,” the man says as he points to side of the house.

    “Yes.”

    “You can go through there, he is at the pool,” the man says, “Would you two gentlemen like something cool to drink?”

    “No thanks.”

    Both Detective’s make their way to the gate, open it, and see the pool at the back patio. Seated in a lounge chair, a man is sprawled out soaking up the rays of the Florida sun.

    Raymond looks to Quince, and Quince returns to the gaze, as both men walk back to the pool where the sunlight glistens off its watery surface and the lazy man sunbaths.

    -23-

    The dress-suited pair of Detective’s strides up to the sunning man, Raymond in his signature dark blue suit and two-toned blue tie, while Quince, the more relaxed of the two, with his loose hanging tie and wrinkles throughout his disheveled suit.

    Their footsteps echo that of a duo of men, full of confidence and assurance as they edge closer to the man.

    “Uh, huh,” Raymond coughs under his breath.

    “Raoul, you are blocking out my sun,” the man in the lounge chair barks out to the pair, “Where is my drink?”

    “It is not Raoul, Mr. Kilgore,” Raymond responds with an equal fierceness in voice.

    The Mexican, the man now identified as Raoul, takes a seat under the canopy that spans the outdoor kitchen behind the house and within earshot of the trio by the pool.

    “You are Mr. Kilgore, I assume?” Raymond asks as he eyes the sprawled out naked man on the chaise lounge.

    The man does not bolt up alarm about being naked in the presence of strangers. He responds, slowly, deliberately, and unashamed of his obvious nudity.

    He lifts the shades from his eyes, blinks, and answers.

    “I am,” he answers, “…and you are?”

    “Detective’s Kincaid and Wilkie of the Sarasota PD.”

    This gets the man’s attentions.

    “Raoul, where’s my drink?” the relaxing man yells.

    As the man sits up from his reclining position, he recognizes the Detective.

    “You?” the man barks, “You were the motherfucker peeking through my window, yesterday. I saw your image on my exterior cameras?”

    Kincaid does not answer. He ignores the statement.

    “Mr. Kilgore, do you know a man by the name of Shockley. Robert Shockley?”

    The man stands from his lounge chair. He is well tanned, muscled. He is the same man that Kincaid saw in full splendor in the gym locker room, yesterday. Kincaid was quite taken by the man’s low hanging balls and hefty cock.

    “Could you cover yourself, please, Mr. Kilgore,” Quince asks.

    “Detective, this is my house. I will wear what I want at my house, sir,” Mr. Kilgore responds quite adamantly.

    “It is your house, Mr. Kilgore,” Raymond calms the situation, “You are, of course, free to do what you please at your house.”

    Besides, the sight of this man’s endowments stirs Raymond’s loins.

    “No. I do not know, Mr. Shockley, I believe he is a business partner of my brother,” Mr. Kilgore explains as he cups his hands under his ball-sacs, squeezing and massaging his low-dangling family jewels in his hands.

    “Then why was his stepson at your house yesterday, Mr. Kilgore?” Raymond asks.

    “I wouldn’t know,” Mr. Kilgore says, “I just got back into town this morning.”

    Mr. Kilgore starts stroking his cock in front of the two detectives.

    “Where’s my drink, Raoul?” the naked man shouts.

    As the drink is brought to him by his gardener and placed on a small patio table next to the chaise lounge. A question pops in his head.

    “Was my brother here, yesterday, Raoul?” Mr. Kilgore asks.

    “Yes, Mike, he was here,” Raoul answers, “As was Jaime.”

    “Were they together?” Raymond asks but he already knows the answer to his question.

    Raoul looks to his employer, Mike Kilgore.

    “Were they?” Mr. Kilgore asks as he takes a sip from his glass.

    “Yes,” Raoul answers, flatly.

    “Did they fuck?” Mike Kilgore asks, bluntly.

    “I had to change the sheets on your bed,” Raoul answers.

    “They fucked on my bed. Dammit!” Mike says, angrily.

    Quince looks at his partner, they exchange of marked glances of shock between them, as the drama unfolds before them.

    “When Jaime called me this morning, he didn’t mention that to me,” Mike Kilgore says.

    “You know, Jaime Riley?” Quince asks the naked men with the full erection between his legs.

    “I do,” the man says as he strokes his cock, “It seems the Detective does too.”

    “What?” Quince asks as he leers as his partner.

    “Yep, your partner gave the boy quite a blowjob in the steam room, yesterday, at The Athletic Club,” Mike says with a tinge of joy in his voice, “the boy bragged about it to me on the phone, this morning.”

    All the men look at Raymond Kincaid. He stands tall and makes no comment.

    Anger seethes on Detective Quince Wilkie face.

    -24-

    “What the fuck! What the fuck!” Quince steams as the pair are driving back to the Police Department in Sarasota, “You shouldn’t be fuckin’ around with any possible witnesses on a current case.”

    “I didn’t know that the kid was involved in this case until he opened the door at Mrs. Shockley’s.”

    “You saw him at the house of a man, you thought he was screwin’ around with, a doctor,” Quince says, “Don’t you lie to me, man.”

    “Yes. Yes. I sucked on the guys cock, he caught me the steam room jacking on my cock. It just happened.”

    “Have you talked to the doctor yet, the real one,” Quince asks.

    “NO!” Raymond answers sharply. He can feel the slip of paper of the note that the doctor left him at the gym.

    He will call him, tonight.

    “You ain’t gonna tell the Captain about this are you?” Raymond pleads, “I don’t need another reprimand in my file.”

    “No, I ain’t tellin’ the Captain,” Quince answers, “You know what happens between us, is settled between us. It is what partners do.”

    “Thanks, man,” Raymond says, “I appreciate it.”

    -25-

    Just off the crowded precinct area of the main floor, tucked away in some out of the way place, is a room that the designers of this new police department envisioned, when they set about giving the officers, the detectives and the staff a place to rest, gather their thoughts, gossip. It is the break room. The usual vending machines, coffee makers and the like inhabit this cramped room. There are tables and chairs, what few the room will allow.

    Here sits Raymond and Quince, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of each of them.

    Raymond’s hands are wrapped, snug, around the base of the cup, seeking what available heat he can get from the rapidly cooling liquid. Another failed aspect of this closet-like room is that it is cold. It is as cold as the Arctic on the shortest day of the year, in this little corner of hell.

    “So, what the hell happened with the boy, Ray?” Quince asks, flustered.

    Ray feels his groin stir at the incident with the boy yesterday. His hand shifts from clutching the cup to adjusting his rapidly growing and stiffening cock. His trouser snake slithers in his pants, the adrenaline shoots through his body as he is charged up like some sexual dynamo.

    “Dammit, man,” Quince asks, “Did you just get yourself a raging hard-on?”

    Ray nods his head, ‘yes.’

    “The kid must have been good,” Quince queries.

    Ray responds with another exaggerated nod.

    “Tell me,” he asks again.

    “There isn’t much to tell.”

    He tells him of the surprise of the red-haired freckle dotted pale lad walking into the steam room. Of him, swallowing the hefty deposit of the young man’s spunk and the many eyes of the men, who he felt, behind him at the door, he enjoys being watched.

    In the hallway, both men hear footsteps, slow steady, almost timed, walking down the tight corridor to the break room. The footsteps stop, in the doorway, is the Captain, leaning on the frame.

    “Quince. Raymond,” the Captain says, calmly.

    “Captain,” the Detective’s both say in almost perfect unison.

    “Leave us, Quince,” the Captain orders.

    Quince gets up, but not before, he glances back and looks at his partner. He mouths, “oh shit” to Raymond before he exits the room.

    -26-

    “Captain.”

    Raymond words that of respect and leeriness. What does he want?

    “What this I hear ‘bout you, a playing peek-a-boo in someone’s window?” the Captain asks as he plops down in the seat directly in front of him. The seat where Quince had once been firmly rooted, minutes earlier.

    The Captain shifts in the seat, the warmth still lingering from Quince’s ass.

    “I was following up on a lead,” Ray says, “I am looking for a missing person.”

    “Who?” the Captain asks.

    “Robert Shockley.”

    “The real estate guy and banker?” the Captain ponders.

    “The same,” Ray answers, flatly, “He has been missing for over a day, now.”

    “What does that have to do with Mike Kilgore?” the Captain asks another question.

    “I thought he was the doctor,” Ray says, “…but I found out that I had followed his twin.”

    “Mmm, that was a twist, uh?” the Captain says, “Betcha didn’t expect that.”

    “No. Caught me by complete surprise. They must have done a switch-a-roo on me. They knew I was a cop.”

    “Okay. Let me know what you find out,” the Captain says, “Just don’t go being some purvey voyeurism when you are on the clock. It doesn’t help with our image.”

    “Sure thing, Cap.”

    -27-

    Once the Captain exits the room, Detective Kincaid stands and walks to the window. He looks down toward Ringling Avenue. He wiggles his hips, feeling his cock and balls swing-free in his trousers.  Today was one of his no-underwear days. The Florida heat is merciless on the balls and cock in such a fucking high humidity.

    “So, what happened?” Quince says as he walks back into the cold chamber of the break room.

    “Everything is copasetic.”

    “Really?” Quince says, shocked.

    “Yes.”

    “Mmm,” Quince’s questions mount in his head.

    “I am gonna call it a day,” Ray explains, “I have something I gotta do.”

    “What about this Shockley case?” Quince asks.

    “Why doncha check his financials, see if he has travelled or used his credit cards.”

    “Will do,” Quince says.

    “You have my cell, call me if you find anything, questionable.”

    “What about his cell phone?” Quince asks as he leans on the doorframe of the break room.

    “I have it,” Ray says as he turns from the window, “See. Here it is.”

    Ray shows his partner, the second cell phone that belonged to Mr. Robert Shockley. The phone that his wife did not even know existed. He places the phone back in his pocket. It is nuzzled tight in his heated pocket against the slip of paper with the note from the good doctor named Mills Kilgore.

    -28-

    The car pulls into the parking garage, in the basement of The Towers on Palm Avenue. It was only a short drive. Out of the police department, onto Ringling Avenue, go west, head towards the Sarasota Bay front, and wind around the few strategically placed circular Round-About, before finally arriving on Palm Avenue.

    He parks his car. The one with the high miles and the constant threat of eventual breakdown everyday it is cranked. He hates this car.

    His hand creeps into his pants pocket, grabbing the cell phone and tweaking his tender hanging ball sac that he feels sticking like glue to inside of his sweaty thigh.

    He scrolls through the saved numbers in the memory of the phone. The phone in his fingertips belongs to the “missing person” Mr. Robert Shockley, it tells a man a lot about who he is by what he keeps stored away from the prying eyes of others. Shockley is a real estate tycoon and banker, one of Sarasota’s well-known and vocal personalities.

    The Towers on Palm Avenue is owned by the “missing” prick.

    The number is there. They knew it would be.

    -29-

    He walks to the stainless-steel elevator and presses the UP-arrow button. He needs a shower; the filth of the precinct feels him with disgust every time he walks through those doors.

    “Finally,” he says as aloud as he steps over the threshold and into the tiny box.

    He presses the button to top floor, as the door closes, he catches a glimpse of the black Benz parked in the stall closes to the door. That was a good purchase, it has served them well in their endeavors.

    The ride is short for him as the door opens. From his vantage point, he can see without any obstruction, the Ringling Bridge and Lido. This condo was another acquisition, well worth the bucks that were shucked out for it. Although the cash was not his own.

    He slams Shockley’s cell onto the counter that separates the kitchen from the rest of the condo. The tile floor sparkles in the curtain-less wrap around windows. He kicks off his shoes, shimmies out of his black socks. The tile feels warm on the soles of his feet.

    He had taken his tie and coat off in his car on the way over from the police department. They lay now overhanging the seat in the car. He unbuttons his shirt and flings it, in utter disgust on the floor. His pants come off next. He is naked.

    He walks to the balcony and breathes in the salty air of the Gulf as its fragrance wafts in and through his nostrils. His hand wanders to his now free cock.

    “I need a fuck.”

    He exclaims with much bravado. In the room off to the side, the bed is unmade, the sheets turned back.

    -30-

    “I got it. Yeah, I did.”

    Raymond talks into his cell.

    “She handed it to me. Yeah. Yeah. It was that easy.”

    He stands on the open balcony, stroking his cock. His passions being fueled by a plan that is coming to its eventual fruition.

    “Where am I? The condo. I just got here.”

    His cock is hard.

    Throbbing.

    Pulsating.

    “Yeah, I am naked. Yeah. Yeah. My cock is hard. Steel hard. Throbbing.”

    No one can see him. This is one of the highest points in the city.

    “Okay, babe. See you in a bit. I love ya, Doc. Be ready to fuck when you get here.”

    End Part 1

  • The adventures of Marc

    This chapter contains humiliating acts and spanking


    Finally his stepdad left him at the entrance of the campus murmuring something about having to go to see the dean before going to the gas station, Marc didn’t pay any attention. Here he was his former self, the top jock of the swimming team where no one dared to oppose him, so what if for some few days he had to wear this degrading cock cage, if anyone tried to make a laugh out of it they would meet his fist. With these naïve and pleasant thoughts he entered the lockeroom where he saw Nick, his main antagonist in the team and some other guys changing their sweaty clothes. ‘Oh, I see you decide to honour us with your presence’ said the coach angrily at the young jock, the other guys just laughed, Nick more loudly so Marc could clearly listen. ‘But… coach I don’t understand, why these guys are changing, we were supposed to have the tryouts in half an hour, right?’ ‘Yeah boy, we did have them, an hour ago, now the lads are changing to go to their classes, didn’t you get the e-mail informing all the team for the change of hour?’ Marc didn’t believe it at first but coach was right, he hadn’t check his mail last night, he was trying to find a way to masturbate having that fucking chastity cage on.

    Coach was still furious but said ‘You are making the team without having to prove yourself because I have seen what you can do but you are not off the hook yet, now hit the showers all of you’. Marc was pleased, he knew that his place as the top jock would save him once again and with a smile followed the rest of the guys to the showers. Suddenly when he was just in his breefs it dawned to him- he couldn’t shower in front of the guys like that, that shit around his cock was embarrassing, his fame as a sex god- taking the top girls of the college would surely crumble if the other guys saw his predicament.

     ‘What’s up Marc are you ashamed of showing us your prick?’ said one guy and the others laughed watching the confused half-naked jock not knowing what to do. ‘No…’ said Marc angrily ‘The prick just thinks he is better than us for not even having to attend the tryouts and cant take a shower with the common people’ said Nick.

    ‘Shut up wanker!- shouted Marc- I could have easily won and you know that, it wasn’t my fault’. It was true, even though Nick was slightly more broad than him and taller, standing at 6’’5 he was worse in sports. But apart from that he was just the next best thing next to Marc, good looking with black very short hair and eyes, his huge monster cock hanging between his strong thighs, no one ever dared saying something to him cause if his insant aggressive behavior and his antagonizing spirit. He frequently teased Marc about his light features and ‘small cock’ –even thought it wasn’t small it was the only thing that Nick was surpassing him-but he knew that Marc was better than him in sports and had the best place in the team. Marc also knew however that he couldn’t exit the room before taking a shower….

    Hopefully the coach was coming to his salvation once again- or so he thought- and with the college Dean nonetheless. ‘Ok Marc, we had a long conversation with the Dean and we found a way to make up for not attending the tryouts, you gonna help with the celebration of the last game of the basketball team, you will be the new mascot!’ said the coach triumphantly.

    Marc felt chills down his spines, the yearly tradition of the last game of the basketball team was utterly degrading for the college’s mascot. The emblem of the college was a greek god who was naked apart of a tiny cloth around his waist and a thin cape in his shoulders, so every year the mascot had to parade with these things on and cheer for the house team while the spectators were usually making fun of him –especially the spectators of the opposing team having the enemy team’s mascot at their disposal-. It was an utterly humiliating predicament but everyone was loving it because usually, if not all the time, the dean was selecting some thin geek to play the role of the mascot.

    All of the campus knew that no jock would ever want to fulfill that role so usually some geek would be serving the stadium with refreshments, cheer and in the end, if the enemy team would win, he was to make their bidding for a month, usually involving cleaning their houses, chores etc.. It was degrading and unlawful but no one give a shit because the targets were some random geeks. That was, unfortunately for Marc, until now…

    ‘I hope this is a joke, no way coach, get some fucking geek to do it like always.’ ‘Oh, no young man- said the Dean, a well-known gay man in his sixties, the college sports department must step up the game, we must show to the other teams and to the talent hunters what we can do and what do we have to show, we must find a true representation of the college’s emblem as a mascot not some thin boy but a guy like you, a muscular, well-developed athlete…’ The other guys were listening to the dean’s and coaches’ voices of course and started laughing, especially Nick was in heaven, he would see his rival be humiliated for all the world to see and he would reclaim his position as the pack leader. Meanwhile Marc stood strong and defiant, and a feeling of power began to swell in his chest. In his mind’s eye, he could see himself boldly standing up to authority manly in anger. He was determined not to submit to any further humiliation after what has transpired with his stepdad.

    He had always managed to bluff and bully himself out of trouble in the past and a small voice inside his head told him it would work again this time. ‘No way in the godamn world I will do this mascot thing- he shouted angrily- even if the faggot dean says I must’. He was fired up now, and ready to show everyone present that he was back on top. He continued ‘Noone can make me do this against my will, I will fucking…OOOOOWW!! LET GO! ….OOOOWWWWW!! THAT HURTS!!!! OOOOWW!! …LET GO OFF ME!!’ His eyes fixated towards the dean and coach Marc hadn’t notice Nick who was sliding quietly behind him and grabbed hold of his ear between his thumb and forefinger, with a painful clamp like grip.

    ‘Nice work Nick, bring him here’ said the coach grabbing a nearby chair and sitting on it, meanwhile the boys were done with their shower and now they were making a little circle around the middle of the room so that they could see more clearly, they had never seen someone get spanked, Marc neither, sure he was spanked in the past but when he was younger not now when he was a full grown 20 years old man, he wanted to turn around and teach Nick a lesson but he knew that that would be in vain, the coach would punish him further and the dean would expel him from the campus so starting to getting red he let naked Nick hold him firmly by the ear and pull him forward until he was standing directly in front of the coach, before placing his free hand on the half naked swimmer’s shoulder and turned the lad around so his back was facing the coach. With one firm grip coach put Marc over his knee and delivered a strong whack!

    The palms of the coach were firm while he was delivering painful whacks on Marc’s cheeks that stung like hell. The amazing spectacle was additionally thrilling to the onlookers who were now –having scented weakness in the previous pack leader-  hungry for more, some of them cheered while the coach was hitting the buttocks with all of his force.

    Something like 20 whacks were delivered and now Marc was screaming from pain, coach realising that the kid had learned his lesson started to letting him go- to the sudden disappointment of the rest of the boys- when the dean’s voice suddenly interrupted. ‘Coach, you know, me and the kid’s dad actually had a conversation today where he asked me that I must find every chance I get to punish this young man, he has a bright future ahead of him and a scholarship but if  he continues the bad behaviour, to my disappointment I must expel him, he must learn his lesson the hard way so that he will not continue this attitude. So I propose that he would feel the full sting of your force with these- he showed one ping pong  bat- and of course we must take off his briefs and deliver them on his bare bottom.’

    Coach was reluctant at first, he knew his hands were stinging like hell and the ping pong bat would make him scream in agony but he knew this would not cause some long term damage, even though he would not sit down at least for a week after this- he thought-.

    He commanded Marc to get up and stand straight in front of him while he stood up and removed the boxers with one quick move, the firm white buttocks of the young jock were now on full display under the hungry eyes of the dean and the boys. Marc started to sob ‘STOP! Coach!! … OOOOWW!! PLEASE STOP!! I’LL OWWWWW! BE GOOD! …. OWWW! IT HURTS. I WILL BE THE MASCOT” he wailed, all attempt at pride now forgotten. He had his hands around his cock so that the team wouldn’t see his humiliating predicament- especially when they were seeing his back and red ass being spanked by the coach, but dean –who was standing in front of the boy- took a glimpse of something shiny.

    He shouted at Marc angrily ‘Bend over boy, don’t make me say this again, hands on your ankles where we can see them!’ Being hardly hitted from behind Marc obeyed while tears were forming on his handsome face, he touched his ankles, benting over and exposing his tight pink anus in front of the team who wolf whistled and cheered, especially Nick was in heaven, he was frequently changing places in the room so that he could take a better look at the smooth –now red- ass of his rival. To his mortifying predicament Marc couldn’t now hide the chastity cage which was moving at the pace of his body, slightly back and forth, whack after whack that was delivered to him by the ping pong bat.

    ‘Hey Marc what the fuck is this?!’ shouted one of the boys while everyone were bursting into laughter ‘Hey all, admire the alpha male of the campus, the sex god who taps all the pussy’ some of them were bending in front of the young jock and scrutinised  the chastity cage. ‘What the fuck is that, are you some kind of a sex offender?’ said Randy, a once light hearted kid who had took much shit from Marc in the previous year’. While coach was delivering the hard spanks some of them started to –by mistake as they would later claim- touch his balls which were popping out and laughing.

     It was Nick’s turn to come in front of the blond jock and he started playing with the cage, he tried to hit it softly and then he begun to squeeze Marc’s balls and hitting them with his index finger to the laughter of the rest of the team. Coach obviously would not tolerate this degrading behaviour by the other boys but he wasn’t seeing what they were doing to him; he was focusing his hits at the back side of the young jock.

    As the handsomest and most popular jock in the College, the ignominy of being publicly spanked was unbearable, yet he had no option but to endure the shame together with the vigorous battering his bottom was receiving from the coach’s mighty and relentless force. Marc was now really crying with sobs and hadn’t screamed in one full minute accepting his punishment knowing he could do nothing. It was the coach who put an end to this torment ‘Ok from where I see young Marc here learned his lesson, did you Marc?’ ‘Yyyeesss…. Sir –Marc was still sobbing and shaking-‘ ‘What are you doing there guys? Havent you never seen a chastity cage? –asked the coach, naively thinking that the only reason the boys were in front of Marc was because they haven’t seen a chastity cage before-‘

    The dean interrupted wanting Marc to experience one final humiliation ‘Come all back to see what the coach has done to dear Marc here and what he can do to you too if you don’t listen to him, Marc boy- he barked- stop trying to stand up and remain in this position, try to open your ass cheeks more so that they can all see what is the punishment for young men around here’ ‘That wont be necessary, I think we humiliated the boy enough..’ the coach starting saying ‘Nonsense, we all men here, this is nothing sexual, I just want to have discipline in the campus, these boys must learn their lesson from Marc here, aren’t you boys?’ asked the Dean while they nodded –some of them sarcastically-.

    Nick- quick as he was- managed to take his cell phone and started to take pictured of the defeated jock who was now grabbing his ass cheeks apart on his fours like a dog, his pink white rectum on full display while he was saying ‘I surrender’ and ‘please coach and dean’. Noone was listening to him, though, coach was starting to feeling he had overdone himself, sure this in front of him was a piece of art, a fine fir young jock who would now obey everything he said but Marc’s ass cheeks were bright red and in some spots the skin was extra irritated. He remained at this position for roughly 2-3 minutes while the rest of the boys changed back apart from Nick who was pretending to watch something on his cell phone while coach and the dean were talking silently in the corner.

    This shit is going to youtube boy, you hear me? Nick was saying whispering to Marc while he was taking the video walking around him. Marc was unable to do anything- the dean had explicitly told him to not get up (he knew he was a fag and he was delighted of his agonising predicament) so the only thing he could do was raise his head of the floor and continue assuming the dogie position but now with his hands on the floor-. Nick of course wouldn’t have it. ‘What are you doing Marc? He was asking laughingly with a ironically terrified face ‘You want the dean to see you disobeying him?’ He was saying that calmly giving pats to his burning ass cheeks, they were only soft pats but after what the coach had done to him they stung like crazy-. Marc was starting to think about the revenge he would take on Nick, this fucking kid couldn’t let go, he was thirsty for more of his  humiliation and pain, he was after his place as the top jock something he could not let happen. But now, he could do nothing but obey another man as well, the lies Nick would tell the dean would ensure another hard spanking by the coach. He reluctantly obey and apart his ass cheeks once again revealing his pink rectum.

    ‘Do you shave man?- laughed Nick while the video camera was focused on Marc’s rectum, the cage and his balls hanging beneath his hole- fuck you have a better ass than my girlfriend man’ ‘Please… Nick stop said Marc desperately while Nick was inspecting his red ass and rectum’ he knew he was trying to degrade him as much as possible. Coach coughed hard ‘What are you doing there boy? Why you haven’t left like the rest of the team? Barked coach at Nick ‘Ehmmm coach, Marc here asked me to drop him to his house to take a cold shower after the spanking’ said Nick ‘No! I would never coach, please kick him out!’ said Marc still holding his ass cheeks apart and his head and chest on the floor. ‘No way, Marc, even if you don’t want Nick here with you someone must get you home, but all of this after the infirmary, okay?’

    ‘Infarmaryyy….?’ Asked Marc awkwardly. ‘Yes, the dean had an idea and we can kill two birds with one stone, your ass is super red and I think I spanked you a little more harder than I should have so we must go to the doctor and apply some cream or something, ok that would make things better, right?’ Marc wanted to kick Nick in the head and be on his way home but he knew that the creams would offer a much needed comfort to his red ass, so he decided to follow the dean and coach to the infirmary, he wore a shirt and  very loose pants –the only thing he could wear so his ass was not to hurt. ‘Don’t worry Marc- said Nick laughing while they were walking to the other side of the campus- I haven’t upload anything…yet!’.

    To be continued..


    I am happy to receive any advice, comments and recommendations to my e-mail. Tell me if you like the story so far and if you want something more particular. Cheers!


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


  • First Holiday With My Girlfriend Leads To Me Getting Fucked

    Ian was on his first holiday with his Girlfriend Mandy in one of the Greek Islands. He had always been away with his mates who were currently touring South America, but he could not afford it. His girlfriend was due to go away with her friends but they were all ill and cancelled so here they were. He was Italian-English and she was Swedish-African. He was 23 Dark Haired with trim build and was hairy all over. He had a firm Phat Ass which drew him many comments which embarrassed him, but Mandy said “chill at least people admire you for you not only your Bubble Butt” as he was an alright guy.

    They had been there a week and had another week to go. He was enjoying himself as it was so relaxing but missed his pals as she missed her friends but they talked abut and met up with another few couples and started having a even better time. They all were out on evening and a couple turn up who were by themselves and look a bit lost so Mandy invited them over. They were called Sam and Sasha and were staying at the same hotel and Sam live near Ian back at home. “How long are you here for?”he said, “oh just for another week ” and it turned out that they were sharing the same flight back home.

     

    After a few drinks Sam who was pissed confided in him saying “thanks for letting hang with you, to be honest I have been here a few days and Sasha is doing my head in.” “As I am used to going on Lads holidays getting really drunk and have a good laugh, its different isn’t it just coming away with just your other half ?” “Yes Ian admitted, I am the same but Mandy’s really cool and we talked about it so those feelings soon went away and she knows I care for her but miss my mates” and they starting confiding in each other. 

    They got on well and later on the girls went back to the hotel bar and the boys stayed out clubbing. On their way back to the Hotel they walked on the beach and without saying anything Sam pulled Ian towards him and kissed him grabbing his Phat Ass with his fingers and slipping his hands into his loose shorts and fingering his moist sweaty asshole. “Hey WTF” Ian said “What are you doing?” “Sorry I could not help myself as you know that your Hot Right?” “What he said what about Sasha and Mandy OUR Girlfriends?”

     

    “Sasha’s cool she knows the score.” “She might be but Mandy will go mad and will feel betrayed.” ” Alright steady on your not married mate and this is a bit fun and gets to stay between us OK,” “Listen you look amazing and I love your dark hairy body and your ‘Phat Ass’, Damn it better than anybody that I have seen for a long time and I am a ASS Hound, do you do squats at the gym?” “Nah mate I hate the Gym really this is all natural.” “Really is it, can I see it properly?” “No mate it strictly off limits.”

     

    “Oh that’s shame as I was going to Eat Your Sweet Jock Pussy Hole Out.” “WTF does that mean Eat my Sweet Jock Pussy Hole  OUT?” “Here I will show you drop your shorts, get on your knees and let me show you properly” and Ian hesitated protesting and Sam reached for him covered his lips with his and made out some more with some hot French kissing, swapping tongues which made Ian shiver. Sam edged Ian’s shorts down as he had gone commando so there was only one barrier to his being able to fully molested his Phat Bubble Ass Cheeks. 

    Ian did not know what to do and found himself on an open beach on his hands and knees with Sam behind him eating his sweet Jock Pussy out. He was being nipped, tongued and sucked and had a tongue breaching his asshole lips which was surrounded by dark straight hairs. It was darting in and out of him which was a strange but not uncomfortable feeling. This went on for sometime with his taint being nipped and caressed by an expert pair of hands.

    After a time he was getting uncomfortable by the sand and stood up. “Come on” said Sam “lets go somewhere more comfortable” and Ian was led by his hand to the hotel. “Lets go in here” and he was pulled into a small hotel room. “Where is this he asked?” “Oh it a room that I hired out as an extra as I know the Manager well” he said licking his lips and “don’t for fuck sake let Sasha know.” “I thought she was cool with you and all that?” “Well not if she knew I had to get Gang Banged by 5 of the staff including the Chef, the Waiting Staff, both Bar Man and the Manager to get this room for free.” 

     

    “You probably did not notice which you would not have as on Monday I look completely wreck, as I was fucked out by a heavy night when all took turns plowing my Ass Pussy savagely just the way I like it no messing around. ” “Blimey” Ian gasped loooking shocked. “Mate I was full of their sperm which actually leaked out of me all day, so I pleaded Ito Sasha that I was ill and stayed in bed fingering and dilating my ass hole with my fingers and a large dildo.” 

     

    “In the afternoon the Manager came up to see if I was OK and then fucked me in our bed and called two hard muscled Chefs to finish me off, I was shattered but satisfied” and Sam was tossing of at the memory,” an stated “Ian Men are built to be take Big Dick in their Ass cUNTS roughly, mate the rougher and harder the better as here is no better feeling than being tken but a hard bodied sweaty hairy bloke” he said this in dreamy breathy tone and his asshole tingled at the memory of being fucked out in this very room 2 days ago.

     

    “That’s bullshit” Ian said if I was going to get a cock in my ass, I would want it to be gentle not to be fucked like an express train, also how do you take it so roughly does’t it hurt?” “Yeah but I like it like that, as all of the gentleness I can do with my girlfriends,” Ian mused “OK I see!” “Do you think we can try something else rather than straight fucking, also what do blokes do in bed?” 

     

    “Let me show you Ian” and after some more hard kissing, he was guided to a sixty nine position and Ian sucked his first man cock and was little clumsy, taking in as far as he could down his throat and he did ok and quite enjoyed it. He received Sam’s thick sticky load in his mouth coughing at the amoutn which nearly choked him and swallowed some of the large salty load. “Don’t waste it lets kiss” and Sam French kissed him sucking all of the remaining load left out of his mouth. 

     

    “That’s really weird.” “Mate try multiple loads from a loads of blokes in your mouth and asshole, now that’s what I would call weird” Ian looked shocked and Sam laughed and siad “Ian you are so straight laced aren’t you?” “Yes I am “he admitted. “Cum on lets kiss again and you can fuck me if you like” and after a bit he turned over ass up and guided Ian into his moist hole. The first sensation of his dick being swallowed by Sam’s butter pussy hole could not be put into words and Ian was astounded by the sensations. He was urged to get rougher and was soon lying full length on to of him pummelling him. 

    Sam said “do like fucking my asshole?” “Yes” Ian gasped as the ass hole griping and milking his dick was too much and he came a few minutes later and fell of top of Sam kissing him. “Wow that was awesome.” “Did you like it?” “Mate I can not believe that I have actually fucked another Man does this make me GAY?” “No Ian, it make you a man that loved fucking Ass, let me do you now!” ” Oh I dunno mate doesn’t it hurt?” “Yeah but you soon forget the pain trust me you will love it as your Phat Ass is built for taking Big Dicks” and he laughed.

     

    Ian turn and lay on his stomach and his hole was lubed and prepped with Sam’s fingers and a small butt plug which he had handy. “That’s a weird feeling up my ass.”he murmured. “I now but I want to make this less painful for you and he pulled Ian onto his side and was cuddling him touching him all over and kissed his head and neck. He wanted to mark him with love bites but knew this would cause too much drama with their girlfriends. Ian was sweating and moaning at being touched so intimately by another man.

    “Right you ready for me to fuck you?” “Yes I guess” he said nervously and Sam pulled the butt plug out gently leaving Ian’s Bubble Butt Hole Gaping and he replaced it with his lubricated cock with the head entering his hole fairly easily. He slowly inch in taking his time wanting to make Ian’s first time memorable. Ian felt relaxed and pushed his hole out as instructed and within minutes Sam was fully in his ass with his pubes rubbing against Ian Ass bubble hole and he said to Ian “good lad is it really your first time as you are natural?”

     

    ” Ian blushed and said “yeah it is but please go slowly OK” and Sam started to make love to him fucking him gently and within minutes Ian came all over the sheets. He felt really relaxed and said “you can go a bit faster now if you want “and that was the cue for some real intense fucking with Ian feeling that every pore of his body was touched by this man who he had only met today. 

     

    This was mad as he was straight with a lovely girl who did not turn him on like this man did “WTF!” he thought and pushed this aside when Sam made him change positions and took him from behind starting to pick up the pace and soon came in him pushing him down on the bed lying on top of him.

    He did not come out of him and whisper “can I continued fucking you mate?” and he said “yeah I don’t want this feeling to stop “and he started to feel Sam plowing into him again bouncing on his ass and back. His hole felt very inch as it enter and exited and enter even deeper so his body was shaking with lust. They fucked for a long time and tried many different positions that he had not heard of or tried with his current or previous girlfriends. “Damn no wonder my Uncle and Gay Friends are always going on about sex if it this good “he mused.

    He found himself on his back with Sam arms under his legs so that they were pinned right back either side of him leaving completely exposed and this is were he felt a little freak out like a girl being mauled by her man. He was being relentless slam fucked and heard himself screaming with pleasure and excitement that Sam was treating him like he own him, fucking him down and he cunt was sloppy and making squelching farting noises which embarrassed him no end. One thing was for sure whatever happened, he would never forget this experience and was happy, ‘come what may’ now that he had met this guy. 

     

    Sam pulled Ian face to him and kissed him passionately and was fucking him as hard as he could. Ian’s Ass was on fire and he had an Anal Orgasm and his opening and closing of his hole brought Sam over the edge and he screamed when he came in Ian blasting his insides and Ian felt the cum pumping into him and then leaking out of his loose hole.

    “Fuck” Sam thrilled and his body quivered and tremble as he came., “That was mad, are you sure that you have not been Fucked by a Man before?” “No I haven’t” Ian said and looked serious, you are the first man that’s touched me Sam let alone Fucked Me” and its fucking with my head, but I would not change anything.” “Thank You so much” and he pulled Sam down for a long passionate kiss and cried. They continued to made love all night and in the morning had a quick shower and went back to their rooms at 9am.

     

    “Where have you been I was worried?” Mandy asked concerned. “Oh sorry Babe, I got pissed and feel asleep on the beach.” “You smell like you have been in the shower?” she said. “Yeah I have as I had swim in the sea to sober up and nicked someones leftover shower gel at the beach showers and had a quick wash., Luckily the water was surprisingly warm at first” and he laughed. 

     

    “Come here you silly thing” and he got in bed cuddling her feeling really guilty. Ian knew that he was going to see Sam or other men as it was in him now and needed to have the same sexual high that he had experienced all night that he knew he would not get it from a woman and grew hard at the thought of being passionately taken by Sam again and other man as he had a taste for cock now in his mouth and his ass and his cock was like steel rubbing againt Mandy.

    Mandy said “not this morning Ian I’m tired” and for once he agreed and he soon fell into a deep sleep. He slept all day and got up ran to the pool dive in and swam to wake up properly. As he exited the pool he saw Sam who waved and came over and smiled whispering “Are you OK mate?” “Yes” he said I and I can’t stop thinking about you, can we mess around again?” “Sure and they became inseparable for the rest of the week but made sure that their girls were not neglected. They manage at least 6 more fucks with Ian being mostly on the bottom which he love and craved the expert dicking that he received and his ass was mush.

     

    They all flew home together Ian and Sam managed to have a crafty wank when they swapped seats.  They met up at home and all went away several times together and Ian and Sam managed some man only weekends. Ian also had a few encounters with several other guys, one being one of his 5 aside football pals a guy he knew for ages, there were a couple of work colleagues who he had separately at a Team Bonding weekend, his cousin Owen who fucked him with his wife in the room next door and a random guy that met in the local bar who he when back to his home as stayed all weekend. 

     

    They were fully satisfied with his love making style and all thrilled what a talent he had for making them crave more man on man sex as he made them tingle all over while relentlessly slam fucking him and loved the face to face fucks where they could kiss passionately which was better then with their girlfriend/wives which surprised then no end. 

     

    Eventually Ian stop seeing Mandy and the break up were amicable and they stay in touch as friends. Ian and Sam eventually moved in together and continued their relationship taking it to the next level. 

    The End

  • Tanglewood Entanglements

    After I’d kissed Mei Fan at the July 26th Teng Memorial Concert after-dress rehearsal party at the Leinsdorf Cottage on the Tanglewood grounds and let her transfer the pink pill she was offering in the kiss, everything was pretty much a blur and swirl for I don’t know how long. I was already on edge and skittish. Rachel was at Tanglewood too, singing in another concert on another day, but she’d come to the dress rehearsal and had brought her girlfriend with her, a young, voluptuous black woman named Julia. Luckily, I hadn’t seen them in the audience until after Gordon Chen and I had sung the “Pearl Fishers Duet.”

    The duet had gone as beautifully as it ever had done before when I sang it. I knew it had gone well, because Jacob Schwartzman, who was conducting and who had sung the duet with me here six years previously, seemed a little piqued after we’d sung, like maybe he thought Gordon and I had done better than he and I had done—and Jacob and I had sung it divinely. We’d sung it sensually and had wound up in each other’s arms and Jacob inside me and me inside him.

    There was little question that singing the duet together this time had the same effect on Gordon and me. In fact, when the after-rehearsal party had developed at Leinsdorf Cottage, where Gordon and I and Mei Fan were being housed, even while the others, the musicians and support staff were gathering, Gordon lured me out in the garden and fucked me, standing up, me with my back to the wall and my knees hooked on his hips, against the back wall of a garden shed.

    Inside, the music was loud, the conversation louder, and the crowd too large for the public rooms. But the liquor was flowing and the drugs were being passed around, and, in a swirl, I was talking and laughing with everyone, including, after the pink pill, Rachel and her girlfriend.

    The crowd thinned a bit after an hour, some leaving through the gardens, a few to the bedrooms upstairs. Jacob was there at the start, but he seemed out of sorts and stiff and didn’t stay long. I thought at one point I was talking to Chuck Brown, the lighting technician I’d been roughly covered by six years earlier—I’d seen him at work during the dress rehearsal, so he still worked here—but by then my head was spinning and I couldn’t tell reality from fantasy. I knew when I’d seen him at the rehearsal, something had stirred within me—a longing for what I once had had. But then, I’d gotten the same feeling when I encountered Jacob. I even felt something when I’d seen Rachel after all this time. I didn’t begrudge her her girlfriend, who was quite hot.

    * * * *

    We were on the bed in Mei Fan’s room at the Liensdorf Cottage. The party was still going on on the first floor. Gordon and I were sitting side-by-side at the foot of the bed, naked, kissing, and fondling each other. Mei Fan, Rachel, and Rachel’s girlfriend, Julia, were on the bed behind us, writhing, taking care of each other. I was still woozy from the pink pill, the liquor, and the exhilaration of the glorious singing of the “Pearl fisher Duet” with Gordon. I think I’d already fucked all three women—Mei Fan, Rachel, and Julia—and that Gordon had done so as well, before Gordon and I started working on each other, but I’d lost context.

    Gordon moved me to my back, with my head arched over the edge, giving him a good angle to slide his cock inside my throat well enough for me to deep throat him, which I felt took forever, while I stroked my own cock. The women paid no heed to us. Gordon was showing great stamina not to come in my throat, and I was becoming afraid he might rupture my voice box, a career-ending event for an opera singer. I almost panicked at the realization that, if Gordon wanted to end my career, he could do so here, now, in a way that I couldn’t publicly charge him with.

    But he eventually pulled out of me, turned me, and pressed me down to the floor, on my knees, between his spread thighs. I took his cock in my mouth again, and he leaned over me, running his hands down my back and then one hand farther, his fingers going into my crack and then inside me. He wasn’t deep-throating me now. He wanted me to worship the cock with my lips and teeth, which I did. He had a very nice cock. We worked each other for several minutes while the women writhed behind Gordon, squealing and moaning. I was moaning too.

    “Turn on the floor, go on your hands and knees, show me your hole,” Gordon growled.

    I did so, moving my hands back to my buttocks, grasping them and spreading them.

    “Very nice; open; well used,” Gordon said and then he came off the bed, crouched over me, mounted my ass, penetrated me, and started to pump.

    I zoned out. When I was swirling back into the scene, Rachel was under me on the bed and I was fucking her in the missionary position. I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this with Rachel anymore, but it felt so good, so right. Julia was crouched beside us. She and Rachel were kissing. Gordon was on top of Mei Fan above us on the bed. Then I was fucking Julia in a doggy and squeezing her breasts.

    I heard a shriek of laughter from downstairs and then another. The effect was to snap me out of my stupor enough for me to withdraw from the bed, reach down to snatch up an undergarment—which later proved to be Julia’s lacy panties—and stagger out of the room, down the back stairs, and out into the gathering darkness of early night.

    * * * *

    I was walking, almost at a half-jog pace, along the paths linking the guest cottages, all of them named after past musical directors of Tanglewood. I had no idea where I was going, but the night air and the isolation from the party in the Liensdorf Cottage was helping to clear my head. When I was exhausted, I entered the yard of one of the cottages and walked around to the terrace at the back. I stood at the edge of a swimming pool for several minutes, watching the breeze ripple the water and the moonlight reflect off the rippling.

    I was on the terrace of the Munch Cottage, where it had happened six years ago tonight—that would be “tonight” because it was already after midnight, into July 27th now. This was where Edward Teng had been stabbed and left floating in the pool.

    I sensed I wasn’t alone. I turned and from the light coming through the French doors into the cottage living room I saw that Jacob Schwartzman was sitting in a wrought iron patio chair. He had a glass of liquor in his hand. The bottle and another glass were on the flagstone of the terrace beside his chair. He was wearing a blue silk robe, loosely draped at his sides and nothing else. His body was still magnificent after all these years. He gave me a wan smile and gestured for me to sit in the patio chair next to him. I did. He poured liquor from the bottle into the spare glass and handed it to me. It was scotch—very smooth scotch.

    We sat for some time, in the dark, watching the moonlight play on the water in the swimming pool, before either of us spoke. When one of us did, it was Jacob, and only the one statement and it came out almost in a sob. “You and Gordon were magnificent in the ‘Pearl Fisher’ this evening.”

    I knew how wrenching it was for him to admit that, and I didn’t attempt an answer. I felt that it was true, and if I’d said so, he’d be crushed to the point of not being able to direct us in the performance the next afternoon.

    I turned my face to him and leaned in a bit. Either he would reciprocate or he wouldn’t. He did. He leaned into me as well, and we kissed, tenderly and then greedily. When we came out of the kiss, I slipped out of my chair, went down on my knees between his thighs, and took his cock in my mouth. Jacob leaned back in his chair and moaned while I sucked him erect. It was the second time that evening that I deep-throated a man, both of whom were hung.

    I offered no resistance when he lifted me up to my feet with hands under my pits, rose himself, turned me toward a glass-topped patio table. He bent me over the table on my belly, and I felt the lace panties being slipped down my legs. He didn’t ask why I was wearing women’s lace panties. He gripped one of my hips with one hand and used the other to place the bulb of his erection on the rim of my hole. Moaning lightly, I opened my stance, anticipating the invasion—wanting the penetration. Wanting it from Jacob.

    “Jacob? Where are you, honey? Come to bed. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” The voice, a woman’s voice, had come from somewhere inside the cottage. Not too close, I hoped.

    I felt Jacob slipping away from me. And not just physically in the moment.

    “Victoria. My wife,” I heard him murmur, and then I was alone on the terrace, bent over a glass-topped patio table, naked and panting lightly, thinking of what had been, what wasn’t, and probably what never would be hereafter.

    A tool belt landed on the thick glass of the table next to where my cheek was resting. A calloused hand pressed down on my lower back. Nothing more than that was needed to hold me in place, captive, while I felt a hard cock rubbing against my upper thighs, moving into place. My eyes went wide open. Right in front of them, attached to the tool belt was a sheathed knife. My thoughts zoomed back to this night six years earlier, this cottage, this pool, Edward’s stabbed body floating in the swimming pool. The knife that killed him never found.

    I had no time to think further on that at the surface, although it remained there, at the base of my thinking. A thick, hard cock was assaulting me, forcing its way in, and, from memory, my passage walls were giving way to it, welcoming it in, stretching for it, starting a rippling effect, undulating over the hard shaft, making love to it as it made love to me.

    Chuck Brown—half Chinese Chuck Brown, for I knew in an instant from the touch of him and from his earthy, manly, musky scent that it was the lighting technician Chuck Brown who had taken me by storm six years previously—was quickly bringing me under his control. He held my wrists together behind my back with one strong hand. The fingers of the other hand were run into the hair on the back of my head, gripping the hair painfully, pulling my head up toward his chest and off the surface of the table, even more painfully. And he was inside me, thick, deep, pistoning. Pounding, pounding, pounding. Giving no mercy. Fucking me hard. I was in heaven. No one made me feel more alive while he was fucking me than Chuck Brown did.

    I was being very vocal, thinking nothing of whether those inside the house could hear us, although the air conditioner condenser against the wall on the other side of the table was going, filtering out a good bit of the sound. Still, the hand pulling my hair back, changed position. He was gripping my chin, pulling my head back into the hollow of his chest. His thumb pressed in between my lips and into my mouth, and my cries changed to sucking noises as I concentrated on his thumb and he concentrating on thrusting, thrusting, thrusting.

    Releasing the tight hold on me, he growled in my ear, “Let’s take this to the pool. Swim with me.”

    “Noooo, please,” I whimpered, my eyes focused on the tool belt and the sheathed knife.

    But he wasn’t listening. He lifted me up in his arms and hustled me over to the side of the pool and descended the shelved steps down into the shallow end. I struggled a bit, but ineffectually. He was too strong, too big, too determined for me.

    He had left the tool belt, with the knife, on the patio table.

    Standing in the pool, he put me back on his cock, me sitting on his crouched thighs, facing him, hooking my knees on his hips, reclining my torso back into the supporting water, letting my arms dangle, uselessly, at my side. He supported me with his arms encasing my lower back, and, making waves radiate from us in the pool, resumed his pumping of my channel. Every fiber of my focus was fighting to concentrate on the thick, long cock filling and working my passage, although thoughts flitted back to the tool belt on the patio table and the sheathed knife.

    He fucked me to a mutual ejaculation and then moved his arms up my back and, still inside me, pulled me into his chest, kissing up my body as he did so, paying particular attention to my nipples and my throat before possessing my mouth.

    As we were cooling down—or recovering for the next round, I didn’t know which—he murmured, “You were terrific in the duet this evening. You’ll knock them out in the performance tomorrow.”

    “Thank you,” I answered. “I didn’t know you still worked here.”

    “You had good chemistry with that Chinese baritone. Is he fucking you?”

    “Yes, but nothing steady,” I answered.

    “Be careful of him. He’s still working with the Communists. You were as good with him tonight as you were with Jacob Schwartzman six years ago.”

    “Yes,” I said, but I knew it came out sadly. I blessed Chuck for not pursuing the point.

    “I saw you at the party afterward. It was like you didn’t even know me.”

    “Sorry. I thought it was you, but I was high. Nothing I took purposely.”

    “I gathered that. I’ve been watching that Mei Fan—another agent of the Communists. I followed you here. Why did you come here?”

    “I had to go somewhere. I didn’t realize I was coming here. I just know I can’t go back to the Liensdorf Cottage. That’s where they are . . . I don’t want to—”

    “You have a performance tomorrow.”

    “Yes, I know. But I can’t go back to Liensdorf. I don’t know—”

    “You could come home with me. I have a house in Lenox.”

    We kissed. And then he showed me that we weren’t finished that night. He moved us to the side of the pool at the shallow end, laid me down on my back on the terracing by the pool, raised my ankles to his shoulders, and, once more engorged, fucked me again, grasping my throat in his strong hand, showing me how breath-control play during sex could heighten the arousal.

    He was rough with me.

    At one point, he murmured, “Sorry, with you I just can’t—”

    “Do it. Don’t ask permission,” I interjected. “Take whatever you want. Take it all.”

    The taking was total. He took me to heaven.

    * * * *

    The performances the next day, once in the afternoon and once at in the evening, went as well as could be expected. The spark wasn’t there with Gordon Chen that it had been during the dress rehearsal, but the performance was more than competent and was received well. It was received particularly well by the conductor, Jacob Schwartzman, from the podium, who doubtlessly keyed into the lowering of the atmosphere of sensuality and arousal for each in the duet since the dress rehearsal, and I’m sure he thought that his encounter with me the previous night at Munch Cottage was the reason. I didn’t think it was over with Jacob. I thought we’d find ourselves alone and in heat for each other again sometime. The real reason, though, was that the lighting technician, Chuck Brown, was standing in the wings at the concert, watching me as I was glancing, when I could, at him during the duet.

    I went home with Chuck, to his house in Lenox, that night immediately after the last performance of the Edward Teng Memorial Concert, and each night after that for a long time. I changed the base of my periodic concert singing career to Lenox and took a part-time job with the Tanglewood staff as well.

    I was still living with Chuck Brown when I saw in the news that Mei Fan had been arrested in Los Angeles for spying for Mainland China. The murder of her husband, Edward Teng, was mentioned by the media, but she wasn’t linked herself to the murder in these reports. Nevertheless, I always wondered. Gordon Chen dropped out of sight not long after we sang the “Pearl Fishers Duet” at Tanglewood in July 2019. He surely was singing somewhere, but I made no effort to find out where.

    I was content where I was—with a concert lighting technician in a small house in Lenox, Massachusetts.

    -FINI-


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  • London Stalking An Eastern European Bubble Butt Guy or was I

    I Nathan age 40 was shopping in my local town and spotted him, a 20 something Eastern European Bubble Butt Guy wearing a pair of Jeans that were moulded to his Ass which looked good enough to eat. I completely lost my concentration as I had to have this guy. I suddenly came to my senses went to the checkout, paid for my stuff and left the store. However I then lingered outside of the shop for about 10 minutes pretending to be talking on the phone which of course had no one on the other end.

    The guy made his way down the High Street and I followed him as I had to have him. Yes I know I was stalking my prey and fuck knows what I would do when I got to my destination, but all I could think about was fingering and screwing his dark moist hole. I was trying to work out were he was from possible Lithuania or one of the other old Soviet Union Block Countries. I would love to find out before sticking my tongue down his throat.

    He walked at a steady pace and I was able to keep up with him easily and he went into a shop brought some cigarettes and smoked one and started talking on his the phone laughing and making jokes in his language which sounded lovely. He turned off into side street and I continued to follow him and he went into a house a few streets for mine. I saw him drop his keys bend over to pick them up taking his time showing off those amazing Phat Cakes and he was greeted by a girl at the door who hugged him and he went inside. “You Stupid ‘Old Fool’” I said to myself and crossed the road and went home.

    I saw him again 3 times and follow him each time cursing myself and laughing about it. “Oh shit whet am I doing?” I now Damn well what I am doing following, this Hottie home with no Chance of Fucking him.” So the next time I saw him with a hot friend who looked similar to him, I thought to myself “Nathan Sod it don’t bother.” I went home feeling sorry for myself and a hour later my doorbell rang. “Who’s that?” I said to myself and opened the door to find my Hot Eastern European Guy standing there. 

    I was dumbstruck and he said “Hi my name Juris can I come in?” “Yes” I sputtered embarrassed as hell, “please come in” and he walked in looking around. saying “This is a nice big place, your hall is bigger than my bedroom.” He had look round  and said “are you by yourself ?” “Yes I live by myself , it is a bit big is it ” he admitted, but then followed this with “I have lived here all of my life, would you like some tea or coffee?” “Coffee please.” “Please Juris sit down” and they sat in the big sunny kitchen.

    “So what do you want?” I asked “Oh nothing “he seem tongue tied. “I have missed you following me why you stop?” “Oh Shit em I saw you with your girlfriend/wife and did not want to embarrass you or myself as I know that I am a stupid old fool following you, a hot fit young lad, its pathetic really and I guess you have come here to tell me that to my face!” 

    “No I liked it and have missed you” “Really why?” “Well I am gay but live in a ‘Hetero’ house and it is difficult to be myself really.” “Yes I understand,”. “What do you do fo work” “I am a delivery man and the money is OK , so I can send some to my family in Latvia.” “Oh is that where you are from, what is it like?” “Oh its a beautiful city, I miss it but there is no work for me so I come here.”

    “You must miss home and your family “, “Yes but they are happy I am here and I can be myself sometimes.” “What do you like about me” he asked me suddenly. “Well you are hot, have a lovely body and a great Muscle Ass and would not look twice at a guy like me.” “I like older men” he said. “Really come on why not go for a hot young guy like yourself?” 

    He shrugged and replied “I like what I like, also I am 29 poor and would like a man like you to take care of me and I love men, sorry I am so how you say direct but I would like to live with you in this big house get a dog or two and get a better job, I pay you rent of course.” “What is your name?” “Nathan I said.”

    He stood up pulled me up and kissed me. “I thought fucking hell this guys a cheeky fuck thinking that he can sweet talk me into moving in and he is probably after my money!” “Oh well I got a lot of loving to give might as well enjoy myself while I can” and I ran my hands all over his fit body and he smelt earthy as well as shower fresh. “Lets go upstairs” I said and followed his luscious beefy ass up the stairs into the bedroom. He stripped off and I admired him saying “stand here let me look at you” and he started laughing saying “you really are a dirty old man.” “Yes I am” I replied and got on the bed laughing.

    I explored all of his gorgeous muscular body and nearly come just by touching him. I was so turned on ashe as everything I dream off, yeah I am a silly romantic fool and knew this would end in tears but I am so lonely that I craved his attention ,but was not so naive that I did not recognised this for what it was a young man on the make and me falling for him was part of it or so I thought.

    Juris it turned out was considerate lover and explored every part of my body and kissed me all over. I shivered at his touch finding myself under him with every part of ourselve touching each other with our hands entwined. I whispered “let me suck you off?” “No lets both suck each other off” he replied and we did so concentrating on the thick pricks in our mouths and matching each other as equals exploring each other intimately. I felt a tongue rimming my ass and it was great I tingled all over and started to do the same. After a bit we came up for air and start kissing each other. 

    His fingers were drawn to my Ass and started playing with my hole and he had sneakily lubricated it while we were kissing and he slipped his fingers in easily. I breathed deeply as I had not had sex for a long time and wanted this to last and he sensed that by saying “we have all the time to enjoy this yes?” I nodded and pulled my legs up higher and further back and pulled Juris on top of me and guided his prick into me, bitting his shoulder as it hurt, however this did not last long and I urged him to go deeper into me and to take me.

    Juris was considerate and responded to my urging by say “lets go slow “and he made Love to me like no other man has. I have had a lot of partners but he was different and this felt different and I surrender to him, giving my all. As I relaxed he pick up the pace and then Boy did I feel him as he started to long dick me so that I felt every inch of his prick as it enter and exited my asshole and re entered it even deeper so that I was shaking with passion.

    We fucked for a long time and I clung to him smelling him, taking him all in and tears ran down my face  as I was so happy to have met this man and wanted this to last. Yeah yeah I am a stupid romantic as I stated earlier, and I don’t care who knows it. Juris was mauling my neck and face marking me as his own and I urged him to ‘pound me, plow me’ and he did so and his hips were going at a pace and I met his every thrust like for like as an experienced Gay Man and this was really great sex. I felt Juris was about to Cum and pulled him deeper into me  and started wailing kissing him madly as he did not want to let him go and felt each spurt of semen as it flooded my  colon and he came at the same time.

    We stayed in silence for a bit looked at each other and laughed. and were so relaxed around each other and it felt OK. Juris said “my turn I want you in me” and after some passionate kissing, he guided me into him and took me easier that I thought as he was kind of loose and relaxed and like him I started slow and laid behind him nibbling his sweaty neck and kissed his hair. Everything abut this man was hot. His Ass Pussy gripped my cock milking it and I took it slow moving in and out of him gently, until he said “Nathan I am not a woman, Fuck Me like a Man that I am” and I did long dicking him in and out watching my cock come out and reenter his asshole which gripped me like a hot burning vice now.

    We changed position and he was on his knees and his Muscle Ass was spread Wide Gaping and he guided me back into him and I was pounding Juris from behind which was amazing. Seeing his Cunt taking my Phat Dick look so right and his ass mounds was moving with my dick in and out and looked great. I withdrew my dick from him and looked at his gaping hole and then rimmed him. He protested as he want me back inside but I could not help it. and slapped his ass to keep him in place while I feasted on his tasty snatch. 

    After a few minutes I was back inside him and plowing into him with no mercy and he loved it squealing and then groaning in total submission. My hips were going so fast I thought ” bloody hell I am not going to last any longer and he urged me to breed him, “Cum in me Nathan” he shouted and that took me right over the edge and i dumped a load of semen in his Ass and fell on top of him exhausted. I came out of him and felched him and he gasped “Fucking Hell” and shivered as I did this.

    I laid beside him laughing and said “that has not happen to you before has it?” “No that’s new even for me and it was different, nice different I am  very surprise, but I need the bathroom now” he said. I used it after him looked in the mirror and looked happy. I rinsed my mouth out with mouth wash and went back to bed kissed him some more and fell asleep. 

    When I woke up he was still here and I was beaming and little apprehensive that he would leave and not come back, telling myself “oh well we had a good time.” He woke we talked and he moved in the next day. “Fuck It, Life is for taking chances.”

    It turned out that Juris was being economical with the truth, in that he was far from being poor and actually had 3 houses one of which, was for young gay lads who were leaving Lativa to live in the UK, as well as other young people being chucked out of their homes for being Gay who were sofa surfing on on the streets. 

    When I asked him why re his earlier story about being poor, he shrugged and said “well some Guys like the idea of being with Poor Eastern European, so I spin them a story OK so I lied to you Sorry.”

    “Fair enough, now come here and Kiss Me” and they hugged and kissed and went to bed.

    The End