Author: admin

Labor Day weekend arrived quickly; a large number of people were expected the next day, and I wanted to be sure the rooms were perfect.  I had started helping Jeff with the rooms right after I decided to stay, and when it got busier, I persuaded him to hire a lady from town to help with the laundry.  With Jeff in charge of the books, me in charge of getting the rooms ready for the next guests, and Anne keeping us stocked in clean linens and towels, we had enough free time to talk and get to know one another.

My biggest concern, as the summer wore on, was that Marc would lose interest once he had me. The old adage of having something is not as good as wanting something proved to be untrue where he was concerned. I sensed that he loved me more each day. I had the feeling of belonging, and I loved the way he felt in my arms. He had a single bed pushed up against the wall, and with the pillows just right, he fit perfectly under my arm. Life was blissful.

I had kept a secret from Marc; in fact, I had kept more than one. The first was about the wealth I had accumulated. It was probably enough that we, if we were careful, could spend the rest of our lives comfortably. I had decided against telling him until he decided what to do about the hotel. Before I came, he’d been considering selling it, but since he had no idea what he would do instead, he just kept going. The hotel made enough for him to have a small bit of savings for his future, but he struggled with the monotony of things.

One evening, he admitted that he wondered about making improvements to the hotel. “The place needs serious updating,” he told me. “And there’s enough land on the other side of the road to add more rooms. They wouldn’t have a beach view, but during busy times, I’d have enough space for the people who want to come.”

His idea got me thinking, and that’s where the second secret came from. I’d talked to an architect who had specialized in beachfront property. I’d asked him to design the addition with parking below the rooms, so each room would have a view of the beach. I wanted the place to be storm secure, have elevators and security. The area had already been zoned commercial when Jeff’s father first built the hotel. I also found a contractor in town who had experience, and I asked him to do his best to hire people in town. I knew that during the offseason, many of the boat owners had no source of income and lived on their summer earnings. I wanted them to benefit from our expansion. All of this was being done without Marc’s knowledge. I was funding it, and I wanted it to be a surprise.

I also hoped to remodel the first phase of the hotel, but I wasn’t sure it would happen before the next season opened. Everything was in place for Phase 2 to begin the Tuesday after Labor Day. I was excited to see Marc’s face when the bulldozers arrived.

The weekend went quite smoothly, and on Monday evening, after most of the guests had departed. I got room 3 ready. It was the room I was in the night Marc and I were first together. I picked a nice wine and dinner was being prepared by the best cook in town, Katherine Madison. She had known Jeff since childhood and knew his favorite seafood meal was scallops au gratin. I preferred my scallops seared and in a lemon sauce, and she was an expert in that as well.

Katherine arrived on schedule and set things up for me. I went to the office and slipped my premade side on the door. Marc was working on the books as I slipped behind the desk, pulled him away, and gave him the kiss I’d been waiting all day to give him. How could he smell so good after a day’s work? I massaged his left pec as I kissed him. I didn’t dare move my hand any lower. I didn’t want our dinner to get cold.

“Come with me.” I held his hand and pulled him along. After locking the office door, I took him to the room where our magnificent meal stood at the ready.

“Wow,” he said under his breath. “How did you manage this?”

“One of my many talents.” I smile deviously.

His eyebrows shot up. “What else do you have in store?”

“Eat your scallops before they get cold.”

“Scallops? You’re kidding.”

“No. Have at it.” I picked up a glass of wine and handed it to him. I took mine. “To us. Meant to be together. I love you, Markie. I want everything I do to make you happy, to make your life full…” Tears began to fall from my eyes. I loved this man. I was so lucky.

“Oh, baby.” He hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. “I love you, Jeffie.”

I laughed a little at that. “Now, let’s eat.” We sat and enjoyed our meals. I struggled some with the conversation as I wanted badly to tell him the secret I’d been holding in about phase 2.

“Jeffie, these are the best scallops she’s ever made for me. I wonder whether she changed the recipe, or is it the scallops this season.”

He’d never called me ‘Jeffie’ before. He did call me two-by-four for a short while; he said it was because I was such a stud, but after he did it in front of people, I called him one-by-three. He gave me a puzzled look, and I told him it was because he was kind of like a stud, only smaller. Later that night, I told him that he reminded me of a gas station attendant because he used his hose to fill up my tank. He laughed so hard he fell off the bed. We decided at that point not to use cute names except in the throes of passion.

“Why ‘Jeffie’?” I asked him.

“I want a name that no one else calls you. You’re the only one who calls me ‘Markie’, and I know where that comes from. And if I accidentally call you ‘Jeffie’ in front of people, no one will be embarrassed by it.” His look told me that my question made him doubt using the name.

“I understand. And it’s OK. I don’t mind it; it’s kinda like a secret code for ‘I love you’ without the possibility of any awkwardness.”

Marc nodded. “You do understand.” He smiled. “Now, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

I stuffed a scallop in my mouth. I looked up to let him know I was listening.

“I want to work on the sign. I know I talked about it earlier this year, before Memorial Day, but I haven’t shown you my designs.”

“You’ve been working on a design for the sign? Keeping secrets from me?”

“Yeah, like I’d be able to hide anything important from you.”

‘Fuck,’ I thought. ‘He knows. All this clandestine shit has been for naught.’ I took a sip of wine. “So, what’ve you come up with?” My voice seemed squeaky.

Marc seemed not to notice, or was he pretending? “A couple of different designs. They’re hidden in a drawer in the office. I didn’t want you to see them until I was done. I even played around with renaming the place Shark Point Hotel.”

“I think you should keep the name. Bait’s Hotel has a nice hook to it.” I smile a broad, fake smile.

“Keep working on your stand-up routine.” Marc stabbed a Brussels sprout with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Ouch!” I laughed.

“Careful,” he said with his mouth still chewing on the sprout. “You might be saying ‘ouch’ later on.” He smiled with his mouth open just to see if he could rile me.

“OK. You’ve gone too far now. You win,” I told him.

“Sorry, I know that you find that disgusting. I don’t know why I do it.”

“Because you’re still a kid at heart, Markie. And I love you for it, so don’t go changing.”

Marc moved his chair closer to me and took my water glass. He drank from it. Then he looked me right in the eye, and I wasn’t sure just what to do. So I whispered, “I love you.”

And then he kissed me.

His kiss made me dizzy, or maybe it was the wine. He stood up and pulled me to my feet. He unbuttoned my shirt, but his lips never left mine. My shirt was off and so was his; our chests were rubbing together; his tongue was in my mouth, and then my tongue was in his mouth. I pushed him to the side and then onto the bed. I reached down and unbuckled his pants. He reached up to pull mine off. We fought to get the other naked, and somehow we succeeded.

I pushed him back again and sucked his cock into my mouth. Saliva dripped down the shaft as I took its entirety into my mouth and throat and then pulled back until only the head was held in by my lips. Up and down I went before my fingers found his hole. Spit had found its way into his crack, and I used it to moisten his pucker before sliding my fingers inside him. His moaning only stopped long enough for him to mutter, “Yeah” and other single-syllable affirmations.

I had pushed him back onto the bed while never stopping my oral adoration of his dick. When I stopped and stood on my knees next to his ass, he looked directly into my eyes. They begged me to take him. I pushed the head of my cock into him before leaning forward and kissing him. My mouth encircled his lips as I inserted the fullness of my shaft. His gasp filled my mouth, and he began to kiss me passionately as I fucked him.

As always, his man pussy held tightly to my dick, and the friction brought both of us immense pleasure. I knew that when he began to pivot his pelvis to meet my thrusts that he was getting close. I felt the urge to come inside him but held off until I felt him squirt his load onto us. He always came with such force that his seed often hit me under my chin. This time was not different, and as his sperm streamed onto me, I released into him. The change in pressure inside his belly forced him to slap the mattress with his fists.

My pistoning slowed and stopped. My dick slid out, and part of my load followed. Marc pushed me over and lay on top of me. He kissed me hard. “I can’t imagine anything better than being pounded by you.” His breathing was rapid. “Fuck!” he screamed. “I love you.” He kissed me again.

I rolled myself over. I felt his cock between my ass cheeks. I could feel my cum drip from his ass down onto my balls. My dick was trapped under me, and I pushed it down. His dick was trying to force its way into my manhole. I heard Marc spit into his hand and heard him lube his dick with the saliva.

And then he was inside me. I clenched my teeth together. The instant of pain from his sudden entry changed to pleasure as his cock rode against my prostate. He pushed in and pulled out like a wild man. The way he fucked me was another of the things that I loved about him. He always gave me his all; I could tell he was crazy about me in the way he gave me all of himself every time. With the amount of jism he had expelled before, I expected him to have a dry orgasm, but he surprised me again. As he slammed into me and held himself against me, I could feel him fill me with his seed, and after he pulled out, I could feel the liquid ooze out of my hole.

Marc snuggled up next to me. His lips caressed my shoulder, and his hand rubbed the small of my back. “You complete me,” he said.

“And you, me,” I told him. Next to each other, we listened as our breathing returned to normal. Soon we were asleep.

The sound of heavy machinery woke us the next morning. “What the hell is that?” Marc exclaimed as he jumped up and threw his clothes on.

I knew what it was, but I tried to look innocent and unaware. I was dressed in a flash. We walked outside and around to the back of the hotel to see bulldozers on the other side of the street.

“What the fuck?” Marc started to run.

Shit. He seemed really upset. I was hoping for more surprise and less anger. “Marc!” I called after him, but he didn’t hear me. I heard him.

“What the fuck is going on? This is my land. What the hell are you doing?”

I caught up to him.

He turned to me. “They’re tearing up my fucking land.”

“Yeah. I know,” I said. “Take a breath.”

“But they’re tearing up my fucking land.”

“Calm the fuck down,” I screamed. This wasn’t working out the way I had planned. “I said I know.”

Marc looked at me. There was anger all over him.

I touched his face. “Babe, I know. It’s a surprise. Come back to the room.”

“We have plans for that!” His anger stabbed me in the heart.

I had to pull him back to the room. He was seething. “Sit down, and look at this.” I pulled an artist’s rendition of the hotel addition from the drawer in the dresser.

Marc stared at the drawing for at least thirty seconds before asking me, “What is this, Jeff?”

“It’s our hotel addition. They’re starting on it today.”

“But, how? It’s beautiful. We can’t afford something that nice. I don’t understand.”

I sat next to him. “It’s a surprise, Markie. It’s supposed to make you happy. I took care of everything.”

“Aw, baby; it’s beautiful, but we’ll never be able to afford it.” There was fear in his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” I took a deep breath. “I’ve already paid for it.”

“What? How?”

“I have money. Good business deals, royalties, insurance from my father and brothers. And once we’re married, it’ll be your money, too.”

“I can’t believe this.” A tear fell on the drawing.

“Be careful.”

“I love you, Jeffie.”

“That’s a double ‘love you’, you know.” That’s when the tears began to flow. And Markie started to cry as well.

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Ok so the Host and #2 are back with two more Black Guys and the two new guys I will call @#5 & # 6. And five says I got some Afgan Hash!. Now most of the hash we smoke in America is that crumbly yellow Mexican shit. He said Afgan and red wine work! And I knew what he meant! A mellow spacey buzz that goes with Sucking Cock glove in hand!

The Host meanwhile was trying to make nice with me. no more roll games. He said ” I ran into two friends at the store, we cool?” I said no problem. The host then said ” Get that wine and hash out and i’ll check the camera” Well the hash comes out at it is real no shit Afgan Black with the usual tinge of green. And I know that with the wine and Afgan Black my Gag Reflex is gonzo!

The Host is looking at the footage and says ” too many long shots will you do some closeups?” I said i’m cool with that but can’t you just zoom for the closeups?” He said” it does not look as good as with real closeups” Then # 6 says ” You can insert closeups from the camera?” The Host said “no I have software in my laptop to make a video, I can insert what ever I want!” Ok, so maybe this guy does know how to make a Porn Video not his first rodeo!

I had hit that pipe twice with Afgan mellow and another cup of wine and I was ready to Suck Cock! So I said ” i’m ready and knelt on the cushion. The Host moved the tripod and camera and lowered the lens to cock level for a man standing!

The camera rolled and I Sucked the Host and #2 and #3 in closeup and I said “do you want cum shots from these new guys?” The Host laughed and said ” you into this!” So #6 came over and put his Cock in front of my face! And Damn! what a Cock! The biggest of all about 10 inches and not too thick I knew I could Deep Throat him.

I Sucked that big cock for ten minutes and then I did my trick! Take him in deep all the way in balls to chin! and then do my tongue work! Never fails me, I can get a guy to Cum in no more that two minutes!

Stay Tuned for Part Four coming soon!

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I strode down the corridor from the swimming pool and saw him just closing up the dishwasher. I didn’t even register if the table had been cleared and wiped down or anything else but just grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom. If l was going to tell him, it had to be now before the courage in me dried up.

I pushed him down onto the bed and lay down next to him. He grinned.

‘Blimey! Mr Insatiable! You up for another sesh already? Popped a Viagra or what?’

‘No! You said you wanted to know why I didn’t let things become physical … ‘

‘Yes, why you kept me at arm’s length until now? How you managed to resist this gorgeous body?’

I could have slapped him! I could see he was trying to use humour to cover the tension and try and make it easier for me but it was making it worse. For me at least. A voice in my head told me to ignore him and so l just ploughed straight on.

‘Well, I want to start at the end … ‘

He laughed and waggled his cock at me:

‘This end?’

‘Kane, please.’

He looked at me and made a sad face. But he released his already chubbing up dick.

‘You’re not making no sense … you taken a different tablet? Drugs? Had a ‘smoke‘?’

‘No.’

I made a sudden grab at his balls and squeezed them, not to hurt but just enough for it to be uncomfortable.

‘Ow, ow, ok, I jus’ gonna keep quiet now, ok!’

‘The end … is that I love you. Don’t lose sight of that as you listen. Listen.’

He leaned forward and kissed me.

‘Snap. ‘Coz I love you too.’

And with that, he snuggled up against me and pulled my arms around him.

‘I just knew that it would have felt wrong before … l didn’t know why my body was saying ‘yes … but not yet’ and it’s only recently that it’s come to feel right!’

‘Yes, well it’s felt right three times for me tonight! …. So far!’

‘Shut UP, Kane! You said you’d listen!’

‘Ok, ok, keep your jock strap on!’

‘It’s like even when we were in London, my body knew l could love you, but my head needed time to catch up and ditch the feelings of guilt about Michael. That was part of it.’

‘Bound to be.’

‘It was the same thing back when I met Michael. He came on strong at the beginning and l consciously resisted him too … at first! If we’d shagged too early on, my head knew it risked just being a quick fling that didn’t mean much and that I could lose him as a result. A nice fuck on a business trip and a month later, you can’t even remember his name. Do you get what I mean?’

‘Kinda. But remember a ‘businesstrip‘ in my line of work means the Underground toilets instead of the park!’

I sighed, concerned l was not getting though to him, not explaining myself anything like as well as l needed to.

‘But with meeting you, it was like my body remembered not to go too quickly for fear of ballsing it up but my head just followed along behind … not aware of why …. as if it’d forgotten the fear of losing what you know inside you want more than anything else. And I do want you. More than anything!’

He was very silent now. I looked down at his beautiful face. His dark eyes were boring into me as his head took in my words and weighed them up. I asked myself if l was losing him, if this was one of those occasions where honesty wasn’t such a good idea? Was the wrong policy?

‘I think my body held back because it couldn’t take the risk of me feeling l was just another quick £50 punter. That would have killed it for us! It knew it had to feel different, not seem as if you were using your best moves on me like you would with any other client. That’s why I needed to wait and why our first time had to be me fucking you, me being the one worrying about bringing you pleasure for once. Not the other way round.’

He sat up and stared at me, shaking his head.

‘I’m not sure I can be that passive all the time, Ben. I mean don’t get me wrong, l loved tonight. But l really want to make love to you too, make you feel as special as you’ve made me feel tonight.’

I kissed him.

‘That’s not what I’m saying, Kane. I don’t want you passive all the time. I want you to make love to me. But if something is quick, cheap, you don’t look after it! Nobody does. You know it’s easily replaced, so you don’t take care of it! I didn’t want to be easy to replace so l had to make this relationship expensive, to see if you saw it as valuable too or whether it was just something to be tossed aside …’

He laughed:

‘ … after I’d tossed you off, you mean! Yeah l get it!’

Silence now. Joke over. I could see his mind whirring away, processing what his response was going to be.

Then all of a rush, he pushed me over onto my back and climbed on top of me, his bare arse squarely over my flaccid, shrunken cock. He bent down, elbows tucked in against my ribs so his chest could rest on mine. Faces inches apart. Those eyes boring into me again. l could feel his breath on my face when he spoke in a low, calm voice:

‘Now, my turn to speak, yours to listen. Apart from Nan and Pops, you are the only person ever to care a jot about me. You, Ben Guilleaume, have no fucking clue how valuable your love is to a someone who has been tossed aside as being cheap, worthless. NO FUCKING IDEA.’

His eyes filled and l thought there were tears on their way. But instead he grabbed my wrists and pushed my arms above my head, exposing my armpits. Now, I have never considered my pits as sexy or erogenous but he made them so with slow licks and by nuzzling his nose into them. I could feel my prick waking up. He released his hold on my wrists, slid down my body and kissed and licked and sucked at my tits. I was tired but I wasn’t. Wanted to sleep but at the same time l didn’t want to. He slipped further down and when his tongue began worshipping my belly button it conjured up wicked anticipation of what might be to come! I could feel my dick hard against his chest, actually hurting because of the angle of my erection. Still further south he went, kissing my abdomen and groin, finally releasing my cock to spring up against his face and allow him to suck me off. One minute it was his tongue stimulating me, the next his cheek or nose and then back to his tongue once more.

Then abruptly, he sat up, turned and rummaged in my drawer. Taking out the lube, he squirted it onto his hands and I found both my cock being wanked by his right hand and my ring being teased and circled and finally penetrated by the forefinger of his left. The sensations became exquisite.

‘Oh my god, stop now and I will break your other leg personally!’

He grinned and changed from a feather-light touch to a vice like grip on my cock and back again. Forefinger moved in circles inside me and was joined by another. His stroking of my cock combined with his massaging of my prostate was too much and for the third time that evening, l came, covering my pubes in my own juice. It was then that he entered me! I felt his dick slide in slowly, stretching me open to accommodate his manhood. The room started to spin as the massage recommenced and soon, the only thing that mattered was his pistoning in and out of my depths. I couldn’t honestly tell you how many times one or another of his legs changed position or if l dribbled more cum or not but eventually l was dimly aware of him grunting as his thrusting ceased. He fell to my side and, sticky and sweaty, we held on to each other as the sleep of the exhausted claimed us.

I woke up the following morning to find him gone. Panic set in and l was up and in the kitchen in nano-seconds to find him wearing nothing apart from his mother’s gold chain and camly preparing breakfast.

He picked up a pack of sausages in one hand and a pack of buns in the other, held both up and said:

‘You can either have these buns and these sausages … ‘

He turned around and jiggled his bare buttocks at me.

‘ … or these buns …. ‘

‘ … or this sausage!’

This last option was accompanied by his gyrating his hips so his todger flapped from side to side in the most unerotic manner possible.

And that’s been what living with Kane has been like ever since. Full of filthy innuendo. Laughter. Love. Occasional references to our pasts but what happened, happened. He is happy to view his childhood as a previous chapter that he seems able to consign to his past and not fuck up his present or future. I pray that remains the case for him always. He has his licence now and we’ve travelled to New York and he’s been to the house in France. We had flights to Tokyo booked for May this year but Covid put paid to that! I’ve told him he can sleep with anyone he wants … I’m quite aware this will need to happen as l age, however disgracefully  l might try to. Just so long as he doesn’t stop loving me!

So, the next time you’re in an airport, if you see an impossibly handsome younger black man travelling with a much older white guy, you’ll know why l look to be the happiest man alive.

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If I had been told on my sixteenth birthday, that I would end up working as a houseboy, I would’ve advised the forecaster of that statement to sign up for some psychological evaluation. That, however, is exactly what happened by the time I had turned seventeen-years-old.

To fully explain how this came about, I am afraid that I now have to embark on a two-part history lesson:

Firstly, after my mother had left my dad and me when I was eight-years-old, my father continued to be employed as a foreman on the various farms we lived on, as I was growing up. Although life was tough at times, thankfully we always had food to eat and a roof over our heads.

With the unpredictability of nature, we always seemed to be on the move from one job to another. I adored my father and we got on very well. He was not a strict parent, but to be honest, I was always a very well-behaved kid who gave him very little reason to act in a heavy-handed manner.      

I was never a very good student and school was a real battle for me. At the age of sixteen, when I decided to leave school, my father did not try to dissuade me from my decision because school fees were a waste of money for him. Thereafter, I did manage to earn some money by getting odd jobs from the kind folks we encountered, particularly from the women in the various locations where dad was employed. These were menial tasks and mostly consisted of gardening work or household chores. 

Women were always drawn to me because of my angelic looks and timidity. As was often said to me; I was simply too pretty to be a boy, and I am sure the entire world knew I was gay before I had comprehensively formulated this concept.

Strangely, I was never bullied because I always seemed to have one or other male or female protector, who served as my guardian angels.     

The second part of the background I need to explain, concerned Alexandre Naudé.

When my dad was employed by Alexandre Naudé as his farm foreman, I shortly found myself in the service of his wife, as a houseboy.

The main reason for this was that Mr. Naudé had a terrible reputation, as a horny individual who simply couldn’t keep his zipper closed. Over the preceding years, his wife had frequently caught him fucking the maids who worked for them.

Oddly, this had not ended in divorce because Mrs. Naudé, or Tamara, as I was invited to call his wife, was a very pragmatic woman. Her husband was wealthy and she had no intention of disrupting her comfortable existence with an acrimonious separation. Both their sons were in the boarding school at an agricultural college, and her active social life with the ‘ladies who lunch’ in the region, gave her all the free time and mental stimulation she needed. The last thing she needed was her husband remarrying, and handing over all her benefits, and the anticipated inheritance of her sons, to some or other new money-grabbing bitch who might begin breeding another brood.

Even though Mr. Naudé was a heavy drinker and started boozing at eleven in the morning, he was putty in his wife’s hands. His gruff persona was never targeted at his wife and he loved Tamara very much. She was after all, widely acclaimed as the most beautiful woman in the region; a fact that made him very proud.

Although they had a reasonably normal sex life, Mr. Naudé simply couldn’t resist giving in to his predilection for rougher and base sex, and the meagre ‘gratuities’ he paid the maids for fucking them, sated this hunger.  

Her husband’s little indiscretions were not what worried her, but it was the universal knowledge that he did so that caused her embarrassment. Maids, after all, were prone to gossip. She was well aware that he had an enormous sex drive and apart from his imprudence, frequently masturbated while watching porn. Tamara also knew that her husband liked sex on the kinky side and that rebuffs on this score often frustrated him. She even blamed herself for her husband’s transgressions.   

When my dad and I, therefore arrived on the scene, Tamara had an epiphany. Aware that I needed a job she decided to train me as their houseboy, thereby negating her husband’s future extracurricular activities in their home.

Because of my limited schooling, I was very keen to learn this new skill. Tamara proved to be an excellent instructor and in particular, really gave me a brilliant grounding in the kitchen. I had always cleaned house and cooked for my dad and me, but now I was receiving a masterclass in culinary proficiencies. Naturally, my father also benefitted, because Tamara always generously supplied enough food for me to prepare meals, for my father and me as well.    

She insisted that I should take copious notes from her when preparing food, which I readily did, and in no time I was even amazing myself with the meals I was preparing.

Fortunately, my household chores were made easy, because the Naudé’s had every modern convenience one could need in their home; from the state of the art ironing presses, garment steamers, and cleaning appliances. 

After two weeks, I was so well into my stride that Tamara could resume her normal social routine.

As far as Mr. Naudé was concerned, after attending to all his daily chores he would return to the house by eleven and sit in the lounge watching television as he commenced sipping on his beers. He was always shirtless and shoeless as he did so, only wearing a pair of shorts.

I have to say that he was a good-looking man and I soon began to fantasize about him as a DILF. He was masculine, stocky, and had an ample beer belly. I even found his outie belly button rather sexy and I was captivated by his large hands and broad feet.

Mr. Naudé initially had a very officious manner toward me, which he always maintained when his wife was around. He also loved the fact that I referred to him as ‘Sir.’

Once, however, Tamara resumed her normal social whirl and when Mr. Naudé and I were alone, that formal attitude began to soften more and more.

One morning, shortly after Tamara had left the house for a lunch engagement, the doorbell rang. Upon opening the door a young woman asked if she could speak to Mr. Naudé. After he got to the front door he gruffly asked her what she wanted. She immediately began to mumble about some money she said he still owed her. In an instant, he gripped hold of her arm and frogmarched her towards his bedroom.

“If you want that money you have to fuckin’ finish the job you didn’t complete, the day my wife threw you out,” he loudly berated her, as they were en-route to the bedroom.

As I listened I could hear her protesting to the sounds of slaps. Unable to resist, I ambled toward the bedroom door which he had not closed. Peeping in, I saw the back of his body with his shorts down and around his ankles as he roughly skull-fucked her face. Not long after, he pulled her up by her hair and after turning her body, threw her down on the bed. Her contrived sounds of sexual distress were overpowered by his masterful grunts of supremacy.

Next, He then pulled her panties down forcefully before lowering his heavy body onto her small frame. Anchoring his body on his outstretched right arm, his left hand agitatedly sought out her avaricious portal. Once his knob entered her, his left hand quickly commenced slapping her face. Her gasps were drowned by his dictatorial roars of authority.

Not long after, his outstretched left arm now further anchored his upper body next to her shoulder, before a full out attack on her pussy began. 

As I watched his ample butt flexing and twitching, supported on his beefy thighs and bulbous calves, I popped the hardest boner of my life. I was completely enthralled by his roughness and found it intoxicatingly sexy.

Watching wistfully, I pondered what it would be like to be jackhammered mercilessly by an alpha like him as my lust began to reach a fever pitch.

His climax was mindboggling as he snorted like a hungry boar at a trough.

After lifting off her he reached for his pants and extracted money from the pocket, before contemptuously slinging the cash at her.

“Now, fuck off, and don’t come back… You fuckin’ slut,” he barked.

At this point, I quickly returned to the living room area and after they emerged, she quickly made her way to the door with a huge smile on her face before getting on her way.

After slumping into his chair in the lounge, he looked at me and said, “What you just saw didn’t happen. Are we clear on that, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered.

As he sat there sipping on a beer and rubbing his beer gut, he had a smug look on his face.

I simply continued with my work and occasionally glanced at him. All the while I could feel carnal lust searing through my arteries. Much as my excitement grew, however, I continued reminding myself that he was straight, and therefore, my fantasy was merely a pipedream.

An hour or so later, he arose and moved through to his study without closing the door behind him. Shortly after, I heard sexual sounds emanating from his computer and I could hear that he was watching porn. My heart almost stopped when I suddenly heard, “Bring me a fuckin’ beer, Ivor.” 

Upon entering the study my heart almost stopped as I saw him sitting wide-legged and naked on his office chair, toying with his dick. I quickly placed the bottle on the desk and instantly turned to leave.

“Who fuckin’ told you, you could leave, boy?” he asked in an annoyed tone. “You need to learn some manners, boy,” he concluded, as I sheepishly turned to face him.

Mr. Naudé now really began to fondle his dick and balls as he glared at me. With his hand firmly around his cock, his thumb commenced caressing the tip of his moist uncut knob. The intensity of his gaze made me excitedly uncomfortable. After a lengthy fondle, as his thumb continued to move over the head of his dick it occasionally popped in and out of his foreskin. Finally, he lifted his hand to his nostrils and gave it a good all over sniff.

“Mmm, there is nothing like the smell of fresh pussy on a man’s dick,” he said with a meditative look on his face, before adding, “That’s if you like pussy,” he concluded pensively. Then after a snigger, he resolved, “Of course, some guys only prefer the smell of cock.”

I was so stunned that I couldn’t formulate a response.

With a mischievous look in his eyes, he then said, “Now go make me a sandwich and bring me another beer, Ivor.”

As I returned to the living area I felt deflated despite the incredibly exciting scene I had just witnessed. I had a strong feeling that Mr. Naudé was going to make me pay for his wife’s decision to employ me, by taunting and teasing me.

Twenty minutes later, when I took him his sandwich and beer he was calmly sitting in his chair with a softie. As I place the plate and beer on the table, I notice a small heap of sodden tissues lying on the desk table. As I asked if I may take my leave, he said, “Hold out your hand.”

 Mr. Naudé now picked up the wet tissues and pressed them into the palm of my hand. “Now throw that away for me and get back to your work, boy”

When I got back to the kitchen I excitedly smelled the sodden tissues, in a trance-like state, I inhaled the strong odour of his spunk before licking the paper and tasting his jizz.

‘Oh, fuck,’ I thought, ‘this man is going to drive me out of my mind.’   

Nothing more happened that afternoon, and the following Tamara did not leave the house at all.

For me, nonetheless, it was becoming more difficult by the minute as my yearning for Mr. Naudé now totally overwhelmed my being.

If only, I kept thinking to myself.

The following day, Tamara again had an all-afternoon engagement. Once she had left I began to fantasize about my next round of torture by Mr. Naudé, and fortunately, that didn’t take too long.

After he had moved to study and I again heard the sounds of the porn he was watching, he called out for me the deliver a beer to him. As I entered the study he was again sitting wide-legged and naked on his office chair, facing me. His right hand was once more toying with his dick as it had done two days before, but now his left index finger was stroking the large outie on his ample beer gut. Unlike before, however, there was an unmistakable look of lust emanating from his eyes.

‘Dear, Jesus,’ I excited thought, ‘Am I about to get lucky?’

After I place the beer on the table, he began to speak. “Ivor, I was annoyed when my wife employed you, but I have to say, that so far you are doing a great job.” Then, after a reflective pause, he continued, “But as you know, there is always room for improvement.”

“Please tell me what I need to do to improve my performance, sir?” I quickly retorted.

“Well, as you have heard and seen, I expect our maids to perform additional services,” he concluded.

Hoping like hell that I was reading the situation correctly, I coyly asked, “What can I do to go the extra mile, sir?”

“I’m not sure, because you are a boy, after all,” he answered, feigning bafflement.

‘Oh, Christ, is this part of a vindictive ploy that he has embarked upon?’ I anxiously pondered as I stood there like an idiot.

“Well… why don’t you remove your t-shirt, to begin with,” he disdainfully replied.

Awkwardly, I then did as he suggested.

As he scanned my torso, I was heartened by a continued look of lust in his eyes, hoping like hell that I would be rewarded by this man who had now become a total obsession in my life.

“Mmm… well, I have to admit that you are prettier than all the maids we have employed,” he stated, as his right hand now really began to fondle his crotch animatedly.

How I managed to restrain myself from not orally attacking his dick, I will never know. 

“Now take your shorts and underpants off, so I can see if I can overcome my queer aversion,” Mr. Naudé contemplatively proposed.

Although I had a huge boner at this point I was now beyond caring, and in a flash I was naked.

“Whoa, that the biggest clit I have ever seen,” he jokingly chuckled, before adding “Well, from you excitement we have now firmly established that you are a pussy-boy.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied in a timid voice, brimming with desperation.

“Well, pussy-boy, do you think you deserved a treat from daddy?” he growled.

“Yes, pleaaase, sir, please let me be your fuck-toy, pleaase,” I unabashedly pleaded like a child begging for a chocolate bar.

“Okay, kneel and place your hands behind your back, you cock-sucker,” he said, with a masterful roughness to his tone.

After Mr. Naudé stood up, his left hand firmly gripped hold of the hair on my head. With his right hand, he now commenced whipping my face with his fat hard knob.

“You fuckin’ little whore, I knew that this is what you have wanted all along. Now I’m going to show you what a slut like you deserves,” he barked, as he shoved his dick firmly into my mouth.

With his cock solidly lodged in my mouth, his free right hand now commenced slapping my face. As much as it stung, I had never enjoyed anything more in my life.  

Next, with both of his hands now firmly grasping hold of my head, my skull-fucking began in earnest. Soon, tears, snot, and drool had coated my face as he relentlessly hammered my mouth.

When he finally unloaded, I had to swallow for my life and almost choked on the deluge from his balls. Upon extracting his dick from my mouth he scooped all the slop of his dick and my face and rubbed it in my hair.

Mr. Naudé now commenced berating as he again slapped my face. “Your face looks disgusting, you fuckin’ cock sucking slut. Now get the fuck out of here and clean yourself up.”

As I rinsed my head, I had a sore throat and face, along with the biggest smile I had ever sported.

After returning to my work I could still hear the pornographic mumbles coming from his computer. This guy was insatiable.

Later, when I was summoned to deliver his next beer, as I placed it on his desk I saw a load of fresh jizz sprayed on his desk. Mr. Naudé then nonchalantly told me to lick it up before returning to my work. Henceforth, another of my constant duties would now become his spunk vacuum, as I was frequently summoned to suck up the deposits jizz off his desk.

After I entered his study to deliver yet another beer and to collect his lunchtime sandwich plate, Mr. Naudé retrieved a throw that he had on a small sofa in his study and draped it overhanging the footwell of his desk. Then after pushing his office chair to the side, he told me to strip. As I leaned over the desk I was very pleased about his forethought with the blanket. The comfort that afforded my abdomen, however, was soon negated by the severe spanking he administered to my backside. He was not holding back and struck my arse with intensity. Sore as it was, I yelped with unbridled pleasure as his customary verbal onslaught resounded in the room. I do not believe that a single expletive was omitted.

Next, after a solitary finger entered my backside, a second finger soon followed. That was then pursued by a third and finally fourth finger. As the palm of his right hand then commenced turning in a semi-circular, back and forth motion in my arse, I started whooping like a wailing waif. With his left hand still smacking my arse, I was particularly impressed by how effective the dispersion discomfort was. Regardless of the physics, I was having the time of my life.

With my backside well and truly primed, his anal incursion commenced. The verbal and physical ‘abuse’ from him as my butt-hole got pummelled was mesmerizing and rang every bell in my body. I, naturally, gave an Oscar-winning performance of distress, which added to his tempestuous carnal malevolence. My hips also received a serious bruising, as his powerful hands almost dug into my flesh as my body was hectically pulled onto his dick.

“You’re a fuckin’ bully and a bastard,” I yelped, as he manically thumped my butt.

My insolence was now rewarded with punishment, as his arms and hands alternated striking at my face like two pissed-off cobras. I was delirious with happiness and would have happily been ‘tied to the mast’ for a whipping at this point.

“Fuck you, fuck you,” I kept intoning to encourage his ‘brutality.’

Mr. Naudé now commenced pulling his dick out, before again spearing his cock into my arse as his grip intensified on my hips. When he finally ejaculated, he started banging his fists onto my back, almost winding me. It was fuckin’ awesome! Mr. Naudé’s invasion was so rigorous that before he eventually unloaded, the desk had moved forward by a yard or two.

As the final sprays of spunk entered my backside, he yanked me up by my hair and placed me in a headlock.

“Suck up my seed in your tight pussy you fuckin’ whore,” he growled in my ear, as he emptied the last of his ball juice into my arse.

After our encounter, Mr. Naudé spun me around and started kissing me. Of all the pleasures of the day, I have to admit, that was the crowning glory to a day of total delight.

Apart from honing my cooking skills, which according to the Naudé’s kept getting better and better, on the many days that Tamara was out and about, Mr. Naudé kept me extremely busy. Best of all, we began to develop a more holistic approach to our sexual encounters, as my penis appeared to offend him less and less.

More good news followed a few months later when Tamara announced that she and a handful of her buddies were going on a three-month cruise. She then apologetically appealed to me to move into the main house for the duration of her trip, so that I could keep an eye on her heavy-drinking husband while she was away, and make sure that he got to bed safely in the evenings.  

Naturally, being the thoughtful employee that I was, I simply had to agree.

During her absence, a bonus also materialized, when a large bearish friend of Mr. Naudé’s named Willie, frequently began visiting during the evenings.

That, however, is an entirely different story…           

  

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

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From before my seventeenth birthday, I knew that I enjoyed intimacy with both sexes. With females, I enjoyed mutual oral and having intercourse in both holes.  Same was true with the males.  I enjoyed mutual oral and anal as well as passionate kissing.

The only ones that knew of my desires were two close high school classmates who happened to enjoy the same thing.  One was out star high school quarterback and was more into male sex than female.

I graduated high school and started college majoring in engineering and working for a local contractor.  At the same time, the girl I had been dating informed me that she was pregnant with my child. We married, and when my son, Mark, was born, I was given a week off to be home with them.

Somewhere along the line, my boss found out somehow that I was also into men, and one Friday called me to the trailer used for an office.

Everyone else had left, and when I arrived, he was sitting behind his desk. Walking in, I said, “Yea, Jake, what’s up?”

“Dan, I’m not sure how to say this other than simply saying that I have discovered that we both like the same thing.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He paused a second, then pushed his chair back revealing that he was naked from the waist down ad his cock was rock hard.

Looking at me he said, “I have discovered that you enjoy sucking cock as much as I do.”

“Who told you that?” I asked defiantly.

“It seems that one of our clients has been with you a couple of times at a park, and you and he have serviced each other orally and he knew you worked for me.  When he and I were doing each other a couple of days ago, he asked if I had enjoyed your talents and your ‘awesome cock’ as he put it..”

Seeing his beautiful big hard cock, there was no way I could keep mine from getting hard and moments later we were both totally naked and in a sixty-nine of the office floor.

He knew my dad worked in construction and that I had learned a lot from him , so whenever possible he promoted me to higher paying positions.  Needless to say, sex between us was frequent, both oral and anal. He enjoyed getting fucked as much, if not more than I did.

I worked my way up the ladder and after graduation, I was made a project manager.  I often went with Jake to out of town meetings and seminars, with us sharing a hotel room with two beds but using only one.  The other was made to look like it had been used.

It was at these out of town meeting that he turned me on to golden showers and drinking from the tap. I don’t think either of us ever pissed in the toilet in out hotel room.

Time passed and I managed to keep my secret from my wife and son. Then, when Mark was sixteen, we lost my wife in an auto accident.  Afterward, I noticed that Mark would, on occasion, walk from his room to the kitchen totally nude, sometimes with a semi-boner. Upon seeing him, my own cock would stiffen. Secretly, I wanted to suck his cock.

Then something happened that shocked me to the core.  Jake suffered a massive stroke and passed away while at work.  Everyone turned to me to keep the business going.  His lawyer contacted me and asked for a meeting saying I was included in the will.

We met and to my astonishment, the entire company was left to me to continue running.  My right hand and fellow cock lover was Ben Davis.  Many Fridays after work Jake, Ben, and I had hot three ways in the office.

Ben became my right hand man, and we began having sex three to four times a week. Mark, my son, was now eighteen and fairly self sufficient.  He had worked for the company doing odd jobs since he was sixteen and saved nearly all he made, depositing his pay in a bank account.

About six months before Jake passed away, a new club opened just outside the city limits.  It was a gay club, that was open to the public but the back room was definitely a members only club. 

The members only area was where men had sex together with others watching and sometimes joining in if invited. If you wanted to get totally naked, there were lockers where you could lock up your clothes.

Ben had become a member of the club area and after several months told me about it.  He mentioned that they we was one guy there most Saturday nights that was dressed almost like the ‘grim reaper’ wearing an over size hooded sweatshirt that hid his face.  He said he never looked up but stayed on his knees.  If you stepped up to him with your cock exposed, he would automatically suck you dry, devouring every drop of your load.

We knew that if he was back there he was at least twenty-one years old.  Ben said how great his blow jobs were and that he would deep throat every cock fed to him.

He convinced me to get a membership and most Saturdays we would go there to play.  We both found it a turn on to be watched while we had sex be it oral or anal, giving or receiving. Many nights we would each take on two guys at the same time.  We each had a guy fucking us in the ass while we sucked another guy and we were always together and usually had an audience.

The first visit there the man Ben had told me about wasn’t there but the following week he was.  Ben spotted him and with his cock out and hard, walked up to the man on his knees.  Immediately the man swallowed Ben’s hard cock and sucked him dry.  As he was getting sucked, I walked up and once the man has swallowed Ben’s load he turned to my cock and instantly began sucking me.

I looked over at Ben and said softly, “Mother fuck, this guy is good.”

He didn’t just work near the sensitive head, but he worked the entire cock from the tip to the base, and it wasn’t long before I fed him my load.  He sucked off a few more guys then quickly left. 

Ben and I sucked off our share of cocks each evening before doing each other with others watching. For some reason, having others watch made each of us suck with more enthusiasm and energy, and we loved the guys eagerly watching us eat the reward.

After about a month and a half of letting the mystery man suck our cocks, as he was devouring my load, I noticed a ’pinkie ring’ on his left hand, but before I could react he was up and gone. It was identical to the ‘pinkie ring’ my wife gave to our son when he turned sixteen. I was determined not to let him get away the next time he sucked me.

With what he was wearing, his face was covered not only by the hood on his outfit but also by the scarf below his eyes, and since he never looked up, if it was my son, Mark, he never knew he was sucking his dad’s cock.  I was determined to see his face the next time he sucked me.

The following week, he wasn’t there but Ben and I had a hot three way with another guy we met that was also in construction.  His name was Luke, and I invited him to stop by my office to discuss his working for me. 

 He called and said he couldn’t be there until about six or so and I said that would be perfect since everyone would be gone and we could talk without interruptions. Little did he know I was planning on being totally naked when he arrived.  We had already had sex so what was the difference.

The office door had a keypad lock and I had told him to call me when he arrived.  He did and I gave him the code and when he entered and found me on the sofa totally nude, he started smiling broadly.

Looking at me, he casually shook his head and said, “I’ve never had a job interview like this before.”

“I believe in total comfort, so feel free to join me,” I told him.

Immediately, he stripped totally naked and sat on the sofa with me for his interview.

Luke was thirty-three and divorced.  He stood close to six-three and was not only extremely muscular but also extremely hairy and sported several tattoos.

He said his ex-wife had no idea that he was into men and he hoped to keep it that way, because of his teen son. He had been in construction and learned everything he knew from on-the-job training and reading manuals on is own time.

I threw some technical situations at him and he answered them perfectly.  After an hour of questions and answers, I offered him a job and asked when he could start. It showed me his integrity when he said he would need to give his current employer two weeks notice.

After reaching the agreement, I moved closer and asked, “Have you ever kissed your boss?”

“No, not yet but I think it might be hot,” he replied.

A second later, I pressed my lips to his and we swapped tongues as we kissed passionately, and fondled each others cock.  After the hot kiss we moved to a sixty-nine position and sucked each other dry before he left.

Anxiously, I looked forward to Saturday to see if the young man at the club was actually Mark, my son, and if it was how in the hell did he get a membership.

The next morning, I informed Ben that I had hired Luke and he was excited. We had found that Luke loved to have you  piss up his ass while you were fucking him, and we loved doing it.  He also enjoyed being a human urinal.  The three of us all loved golden showers and were looking forward to hosing each other down.

Saturday finally arrived and Mark informed me that he was going camping with a buddy of his and I told him to have a good time.  I figured he would be at the club, and so would I.

I arrived at the club shortly after nine and as expected, there was the young man in his usual spot on his knees, alternating between two cocks and the guys kissed passionately.

He wore his usual hooded top and a mask across his eyes concealing his identity.  It was obvious that he was enjoying what he was doing and that the two guys were definitely enjoying it.

When Ben came in, he spotted me and came over to me giving me  hot ‘hello’ kiss.  Immediately, he could tell that something was on my mind and asked what was bothering me.

“Ben, I think that guy that you pointed out and that sucked us both off might be my son,” I said.

“Mark?” he said in total shock.  “He’s only eighteen.  What makes you think it might be Mark?”

“Two weeks ago when we were here and he sucked us off, I noticed him wearing a pinkie ring on his left little finger identical to one his mother gave him on his sixteenth birthday just before she died.  I have to know if it’s Mark.”

“What are you going to do if it is?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, but I’ll face that when I have to,” I replied.

“How are you going to find out?” he asked.

“I’m going to let him start sucking me then before he can react, I’ll pull the hood and mask off him.”

“I want to be next to you when you do it,” he said. It was decided that Ben would get sucked off first, then I would step up and let the man start sucking me with Ben standing near me.  Then, at some point   Ben would pull the hood off of the guy while I pulled the mask off.

Ben stepped up top the guy with his cock hard, and the guy immediately swallowed it and started sucking it. I watched as Ben climaxed into the guys mouth, and as he swallowed the load, I took Ben’s place and he swallowed my cock.

After just a few minutes, Ben looked at me and nodded and instantly pulled the hood off the guys head as I pulled the small mask off of his eyes.  The guy looked up and instantly my son and I stared into each others face.

I looked into his face and said, “Home! Now!”

As I put my cock away, Mark stood up and headed for the door.  He knew that by the way I said ‘Home.  Now.’ that he needed to go straight home. Ben looked at me and said softly “Call me later.”

When we got home, I said, “I definitely can not tell you what your are doing is wrong when I do the same thing.  However, I do want to know when and how you got started.”

“I got started a couple years ago with three guys I was in school with.  It all started with us just jerking off together then jerking each other off. Then one of the guys said he got a blow job at the park and how great it felt.  We decided to try it on each other and only I and Jay Thomas secretly continued sucking.”

“The same Jay Thomas that plays for state?” I asked.

“One and the same,” Mark replied.  Then he looked at me and said, “May I be honest with you?”

“By all means,” I replied.  “Let’s be totally honest with each other.”

“I managed to get a glimpse of you the first time I did you, and it turned me on big time. It was something I dreamed about doing but never dreamed you did it also.  I loved watching you with the other guys while I was sucking cock.”

“Well, I have to admit that I was extremely turned on watching you suck the other guys, especially after I realized it was you,” I said.

“Dad, can I ask a favor of you?” Mark asked.

“What is it, son?” 

“Can we go to bed and have sex together?”  Just you and I with no one else around?”

“My bed or yours?” I asked.

“Yours,” he replied.

By the time we reached my bedroom we were both totally nude. It seemed strange standing there with my son, both of us totally nude, and our cocks stiffening.

He stepped up to me as we looked into each others eyes and moments later our lips met, then parted, as we offered each other our tongues. After a hot passionate kiss, I led mark to my bed and as we lay down, I got between his legs and swallowed his now rock hard cock, and it tasted awesome.

After a few minutes, he stopped me and turned to put himself in a sixty-nine position.  Seconds later we were enjoying our first sixty-nine. We lovingly sucked each other to a roaring climax seconds apart, and with the loads still in our mouth, we kissed and mixed the loads before each swallowing our portion.

Mark then asked if we could shower and I said yes.   As we stepped into the large four person shower, Mark admitted that he had an ulterior motive.  

When I asked what it was, he smiled and said, “Well, if you’re like me, you need to piss after you cum, and I love being pissed on.”

Smiling, I said, “So do I, son,” as he kneeled down.

Facing him, I let the flow begin and he moved his face into the stream then opened his mouth.  Once it was full, he closed his lips and swallowed the mouthful.  He was more like me that I knew.

Once I was finished I dropped and said, “Your turn.”

He smiled and let his flow begin and I repeated what he had done, including letting my mouth fill with his piss then swallowing.  I figured if he could do it then so could I.

It had a tangy, slightly salty taste and I found I actually liked it, and that I would definitely drink his as often as possible.

We returned to the bed and talked and he asked how I got started.  I told him everything and he asked how I thought sex with a man compared with sex with a woman.  I told him that each was special in their own way and asked if he had fucked any girlfriends.

He smiled and admitted that he and his best bud had double dated and had sex with the Simmons twins fucking them both.  He then laughed and said, “After fucking the girls,  he and I had a sixty-nine while the sisters did the same and ate our loads out of each other.”

I then asked him if the bud was the same one that was playing quarterback for State and he said it was. I then asked if they still sucked each other and he smiled and said they did whenever he came home for a weekend. I suggested he join us the next time home and he was very much in favor, and suggested that Ben might join us.

“So, when Ben and I were there, you knew and watched us have sex with the other men?” I asked.

Smiling , he said he had and that it very much turned him on. 

“Well, tomorrow night would you like a three way with Ben joining us?”

“Fuck yea!” he said excitedly. “I’d really like to watch you two fuck each other.”

“Well,” I said, “I certainly can see that happening, but tonight I want you to fuck me.

“Only if you promise to fuck me also,” he replied.

“Gladly,” I told him, adding, “but first I want to eat your ass.”

I got him on his back and raised his legs.  He held them there while I spread his ass cheeks and drilled my tongue into his pink hole.  As I did, he moaned softly and said “Oh fuck, dad. Eat it.” 

I ate his ass for several minutes before he said, “Now, fuck it like you have never fucked before. Make me moan.”

Then, as I got into position, he looked at me and said, “No lube.  Just use spit, and go in balls deep.”

I did as instructed and he cried out, “OH, FUCK Yea!”  Then after a moment, said, “I want to feel you cum in my hole.”

He kept saying he wanted it hard and I did as he wished while we kissed and swapped spit.  It wasn’t long before I climaxed and filled his hole with a huge thick load of cum.

Refusing to waste it, I pulled out them buried my face in his ass and sucked up every drop as it drained out.  As I did, I heard him say, “Feed it to me.  Let’s share it.”

I collected my load in my mouth then we kissed and share the nectar, each swallowing our share.  Then I looked into his face and said, “My turn.  Fuck me like I fucked you.”

Moments later he was buried balls deep in my hole and was fucking me like a wild man, and I was loving it.  Never had I been fucked that intensely and savagely before and I was loving it.  Once he climaxed in me, he did as I had done and sucked it out and shared it with me.

After we had shared my load he smiled and said, “That’s the first time I have sucked it out or shared it, but I loved doing it with you.”

“And I with you,” I told him.

I then called Ben and invited him over to join us the next night.

We stayed nude the entire next day and when Ben arrived he quickly joined  us, saying, “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

Mark was more interested in watching Ben and I suck and fuck each other.  He admitted to wanting sex with me for over a year.   We all did our share of cock sucking that night as well as giving and receiving golden showers.

That Sunday night as we entered the shower, he kissed me than said, “I want to try something new.”

“Well, you know son, that I’m always open for something new.  
What are you wanting to try now?”

“I want you to start fucking me then during the fucking, I want you to give me a piss enema.  Load my ass with your piss.”

“Fuck, that sounds awesome.  Let’s do it.”

We entered the shower and he dropped to his knees and began sucking my rising cock.  Once it was good and hard, we turned on the water.  As the warm water rained down on our bodies I eased my cock into his hot tight ass.

After only a minute or so, I leaned close to his ear and asked, “You ready for me to start pissing?”

“Fuck yea.  Fill me up, dad.”

I let the flow begin and as I did, he moaned in pleasure, saying how awesome it felt. In return, I told him how awesome it felt for me and that I was anxious for him to do it to me. Then, before pulling out, I made him promise to hold it until I was on my knees behind him. I wanted him to spray it back out onto my face and chest.

I pulled out, knelt down and told him to let it out.  He did and I received an awesome piss shower from deep in his bowels.

After he was empty, we kissed passionately, and I told. him it was now his turn.  Seconds later, he was on his knees behind me, hungrily eating my hole and tongue fucking me before sliding his cock in me balls deep.  I have always enjoyed being fucked but with it being my own son it was even hotter.

Moments later he whispered in my ear, “Get ready.”

Moments later I felt the warm flow begin and never have I found anything to be as erotic as this. I knew I wanted it as often as possible.  

Once he was drained, he knelt and had me spray it out onto him.  As I did, he moved his mouth closer and began drinking what came out. As he did, I told him to retain a mouthful and kiss me. He did and it was one of the hottest kisses I have ever had.

Later that evening, as we lay in bed fondling each other, I asked him what he thought of Luke, my new employee.

“Dad, I nearly  shit when you introduced us the other day.  I had seen him at the club but never did anything with him.  I love his hairy chest and would love his big cock up my ass.”

“Well, if I invite him over, would you mind your old man watching you take that huge tool up your hole?”

“I’d love to have you watch,” he replied.  “Have you had him?”

“Oh, yes, and not only is his cock huge but so are his loads ,” I replied.

I sat up and looked at him and said, “There is something I have been wanting to ask you.”

“What’s that, Dad?”

“I want to know how the fuck you got an ID saying that you were twenty-one,” I told him. 

Hw laughed and admitted that he had a bud that bought blank license from a guy that work in the drivers license bureau and all we had to do was fill in a master and put a picture on it and laminate it.

I asked how much he charged and he laughed and said that his fee was fifty dollars and the buyers ass.  “You have to let him fuck you before he gives you the blank ID.” 

After giving him a hot wet, tongue kiss, I looked into his eyes and said, “I don’t want you to go to the club anymore. You can get all the sex you want right here at home.  I’m sure my friends would love to have you join in.”

“So would mine,” he said with a smile.  “They have said on several occasions how much they would enjoy sex with you.”

Sex became a daily thing between us and on weekends Ben often joined in as did several of Mark’s buds from school. I wondered how he would feel about Luke joining in, since he had only met him once briefly.

I decided to ask Mark if he would like to have Luke join us. He looked at me and smiled, then said, “If he is as hairy as he appears in those tank tops, hell yes.  I’d love to bury my face in his hairy chest.”

“Well, he is that hairy and nicely endowed. I’ll see if he’s busy this weekend,” I told him.

I called Luke and set things up for him to come over around one Saturday afternoon and stay until late Sunday.

When he arrived, we answered the door wearing only shorts and once he was inside, he gave each of us a hot wet hello kiss, and immediately began stripping.  

Mark watched intently and was in awe at how hairy Luke’s back was also.  All Mark could say was, “Fucking beautiful! Absolutely fucking beautiful!”

Mark stepped up to Like an d began rubbing his face in the hairy chest, pausing occasionally to suck on one of the nipples, all while rubbing Luke’s rock hard cock.

I stepped closer and Luke took my cock in one hand and Mark’s cock in the other. Directing us to the sofa, he had us sit down while he got on his knees on the floor between us.  Looking up at  us he smiled and said, “This is the first time I have ever had a father and son at the same time, much less at different times.” He began alternating back and forth between our cocks sucking one then the other.

Pausing, he looked up and said, “I want to get both your loads and mix them in my mouth before I eat them.”

Mark and I kissed and made out while Luke sucked us both dry, first getting my load then moments later adding Mark’s load to it.  We watched as he swished them around in his mouth, mixing them, then he smiled as he swallowed both loads.

“Fucking awesome and delicious,” he said.

The three of us had sex all Saturday and Sunday, sucking, fucking, rimming, sharing piss, and lots of kissing.

That was two years ago. Now Mark, Luke, Ben and I have sex regularly.  Some weekends Mark invites some of his school buds over to join in and it is awesome.  Ben, Luke, and I all agreed that there is nothing hotter than having a hot eighteen year old cock in your ass or mouth.

The four of us are like one big happy family. There is great sex between us but more importantly much love.

He smiled as he took a small bite of the brownie. Lucas Anthony Martinez had a very sexy smile. His bright white teeth contrasted with his tan skin and gave him a bit of a glow. I looked around the restaurant and thought that things seemed quiet for a Friday night.

The previous Friday had seen more people in the restaurant. I was seated on the other side of the room with a man named Joseph Perry. He was an incredibly good-looking man who worked out regularly and thought he was a gift to humanity. He had droned on and on about himself and his abilities. He had insisted on picking me up in his new Land Rover, and when we stopped at my apartment after the day, he reached for his overnight bag. He was incredulous that I didn’t want him to stay the night. He insisted that I was missing out on a great experience, and he didn’t seem to understand what I meant when I told him I’d rather fuck a weather-worn ax handle.

But this date was different. I was expecting a quiet evening with the new shy guy from work. It turned out that he was interesting and cute. He was also my tenth Friday night date in four months. Most were just guys that I didn’t click with, and except for Joseph, all of them agreed that we were both nice people and might be friends, but nothing more. Lucas was also shy. I could tell he was making an effort to engage me in conversation, and sometimes that was a bit awkward. I was trying to decide whether to have sex with him tonight or to ask him out again. Was he also that shy in bed?

It had been over a year since I’d been to first base with anyone. And longer than that since I’d been inside anyone. Would that dry spell alter my interpretation of a night with Lucas? Was I overthinking things?

“Lucas,” I started.

“I should have told you to call me Luc. No one calls me Lucas. I’m sorry; I interrupted you.”

“It’s fine. Luc, I get the feeling that you’re a little shy.”

His eyes immediately dropped to stare at his plate.

I reached over and placed my fingers on his. “It’s OK.” Wow, his fingers were warm and soft. I rubbed my index finger down the length of his middle finger and onto the back of his hand. He looked up at me. “Your hand is so soft.” I didn’t tell him that the softness of his hand was increasing the hardness of my dick. I continued to stare back into his dark eyes.

The waiter walked up, and Luc pulled his hand away. The waiter looked at him and whispered, “Hey, man. It’s cool.”

Luc was looking at his plate again. I nodded at the waiter, “Thanks. I pulled my card from my pocket and handed it to him. He looked at Luc again as if he were going to say something else, then he nodded at me and left.

“Hey,” I said in a low voice. “We’re OK.”

“I guess that each time I start to feel comfortable, something shakes me up. I know that this isn’t like back home.”

“Luc, do you want to go back to my house to watch a movie instead of the theater? It’s alright with me if you do.”

“I wanted to be brave and go out in public with you instead of hiding.” His voice had a defeated tone.

“You aren’t hiding. You’re out in public now. You need to do what you’re comfortable with.”

“You won’t be disappointed if we watch a movie at your house? Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I weren’t comfortable with it.”

The waiter approached the table again with my receipt. Luc looked up at him. “Sorry about earlier.”

The waiter smiled. “No apologies needed, bro. I get it. No need to be embarrassed or ashamed either. You have a great evening.”

We got up and went out to my car. Luc was quiet. I started the car, and I noticed that he looked over at me. I turned toward him.

“Dan, I like you. I kept hoping you’d ask me out, and I want to go out with you again.”

“This date isn’t over,” I told him.

“I know, but if I go home with you now, will you think less of me?”

“I don’t understand,” I told him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“A guy who messes around on a first date is a slut; I don’t want you to think I’m a slut.”

I smiled. “So, if we went to my house and messed around, I’d be a slut?”

“Well, I didn’t mean that.”

I took Luc’s hand. “Slut is just another name in the name-calling game that people use to try to control and belittle people. If you were ever called names as a kid, think about what the name-caller was trying to do.

“We’re going to watch a movie, and if I hold your hand like this. Or if you decide to hold mine, then it’s just two guys trying to make a connection.”

“And if one of us wants more to happen?” Luc looked out the windshield.

“If it’s only one of us, then nothing will happen, but if both of us want more, then we’ll talk about it. And to sort of answer your question, I actually think more of you for being willing to talk to me about this. We’re just starting to know each other, and it’s not easy to put things out there.” I pulled his hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it. “I like how soft your hand is.”

Luc smiled and looked at me. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

Once we were at my house, I asked Luc to pick a movie. He said he liked older musicals. I had three in my small collection, ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ Singin’ in the Rain,’ and ‘Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.’ I let him know that we could also check TCM on demand. In the back of my head, I hoped he would pick Seven Brothers. The guy who played Benjamin was so hot that the last time I watched it, I had to pause it for a jerk-off session. I went to get us some drinks and some zucchini wedges for snacks.

When I came back in the room, he was holding up… the box holding my ‘Outer Limits’ collection.

“I saw one of these once,” Luc said with a smile in his voice. “I’ve always wanted to watch more, but could never access one. Is it alright if we watch one now?”

“Of course. I never get tired of them. Some of them scared the shit out of me when I was younger. My dad would watch them with me. Do you want to start with the first one? We could even have a marathon at some point.”

“Which is your favorite? I want to see that one first.”

“I’ve got two. One of them scared the shit out of me when I first saw it, and the other made me cry. I won’t say which is which.”

“Which of those two comes first alphabetically?”

I smiled in response to that question. Fuck me but he was cute. “Demon with the Glass Hand.”

“I’ll put it on first.”

“I’ll get the lights and join you on the sofa.”

Luc started the disc and sat in the middle of the couch. I got the lights and made my way to where he sat.

“Dan, will you sit really close to me?” Luc asked. “In case this is the scary one.”

“I’ll sit next to you no matter which one it is.” I sat on his right side and put my arm around him. He leaned into me, and for the next almost hour, he was glued to the screen. At certain points, his hand touched my knee, and he pulled it closer to him.

As the credits rolled, he turned and looked at me. He’s going to be alone for a long, long time.”

“That’s why that one makes me sad.”

He kept looking into my eyes, first my right one and then my left one. He leaned in and kissed me. “I’ve never met anyone whom I truly believed I could talk to. You’re different.”

“Because you can talk to me?” I asked.

“There’s that. But there’s the way you always talk to me. Like I matter. You care about what I say and think, and there’s a gentleness about you.”

“It’s easy to be that way around you.”

“But if that were because of me, then everyone would treat me that way.” He pulled his eyebrows together. “But they don’t.”

“And I don’t treat everyone that way.”

“Well,” said Luc seriously, “if it’s not me, and it’s not you.” He pulled part of his lower lip into his mouth and clamped his teeth down on it. “It’s us, isn’t it. It’s like hydrogen is one way, and oxygen is another way, and together they are water.”

“I’d never thought of it that way.”

“We’re a unique combination.” Luc moved his body around and kissed me.

I’d kissed a lot of guys in college, but this was different. There was an electric charge or something that was generated when our lips met. And it wasn’t that sense that made my dick erect; although, my dick did stiffen. I pushed Luc back onto the couch and got on top of him. I could feel the warmth of his body as mine covered his. Our groins touched, and his erection tented his pants. As my lips met and covered his mouth, I rubbed my open hand over his dick. He spread his legs, and I slipped between them.

Luc’s hands found my back and began to massage my shoulder blades. With one hand still trying to squeeze his hard-on and the other pushed my fingers through his hair. Soft and sensual, just touching it made my cock pulse. I pulled away and stood on my knees. I could tell by the feeling between my legs that I had cum. Fuck me, but just some mild body contact and touching his hair had made me lose my load.

Luc reached up for me. I unbuttoned his pants. I wanted access to his dick. With his pants unzipped, I pulled them and his underwear far enough to free a beautifully hard penis. I bent forward and swallowed it. I moved up and down on his cock with a frenzy. He was driving me over the edge, and I intended to return the favor.

I heard Luc’s groans. “Oh, that’s so incredible. Oh, fuck, Dan, that’s too much. I’m going to…”

He grunted, grabbed my head, and filled my mouth with his seed. I swallowed all I could and let the rest dribble down his shaft. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then licked it. I laid on my side next to Luc and pulled him to me so he wouldn’t fall off the sofa. He kissed my chin.

“That was great, but I want to suck you, too.”

“Too late this round,” I told him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re so hot and sexy that just touching your hair made me cum in my pants, you fucking stud.” Luc snuggled up closer to me.

“There are so many things that I want to say to you.”

“Why don’t we clean up. I’d love to see you naked in the shower. Then we’ll crawl between some soft sheets.”

“And you’ll hold me.”

“More tightly than I’m holding you now.”

---

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

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Being small and cute is a heavy burden to bear if one is a guy. When Stevie was sixteen, he only stood five-feet-two inches tall. The bit of bum-fluff that he had on his face was barely worth mentioning and the few sprigs under his arms and above his cock was pathetically sparse. To add to his woes, he was smaller and prettier than most of the girls at school.

Everyone always presumed that he was gay, which he had strong reservations about at this time and did his best to sublimate the feelings of his sexual orientation. He was constantly told how cute he was and worse than that, even asked if he had a cock. Stevie was often tempted to haul the damn thing out and show his ‘almost,’ six inch dick!

Of all the boys than constantly ribbed him, his nemesis was a guy named Rory. Rory was a star performer on the athletic field in the shot put, discus, and hammer throw events. He was a huge lumbering guy who regularly pawed, or picked Steve up, announcing that he wanted to fuck him. Of course, this amused the hell out of all the other guys in attendance. Rory was crass and vulgar and would often grab hold of his own crotch when he saw Stevie, before sticking his tongue out in a lascivious manner and fondling his genitals. If or when Stevie eventually had sex with a guy, he cogitated; it would definitely not be Rory.

Much as everyone thought Rory was joking, Stevie had a strange feeling that behind the mirth there was a strong hint of intent. Apart from doing his best to avoid Rory at all times, Stevie always tried to make sure that he was never alone with Rory in any secluded place. Whenever Stevie needed to use the toilets for example, he tried to make doubly sure that Rory was nowhere about.

On one occasion, however, when Stevie entered the ablution block, Rory was standing at the urinal. As their eyes met, Rory stuck his tongue out obscenely and began tugging on his fat knob. Naturally, Stevie got out of there as quickly as possible.

When Stevie’s school days ended (and he had only grown a further two inches taller), he was pleased that his torment by Rory had ceased. Stevie was soon to discover, nevertheless, that the world would be full of guys like Rory.

The first of these ‘Rory’s’ was his landlord, Kevin Jones, who did Stevie a huge favour of renting an apartment to him. Being underage, Stevie’s parents should have signed the required documentation for his lease, but Kevin overlooked this necessity, knowing that he could then use the oversight as a bargaining chip at a later stage once Stevie had settled in.

Kevin was a manly guy in his fifties. He was slightly overweight and exuded a virile arrogance that intimidated Stevie exactly the same way Rory had done. In addition, Kevin also lustfully stared at Stevie in the same manner as Rory. Fortunately for Stevie, however, they very seldom bumped into one another.

The second ‘Rory’ he encountered was a guy that he worked with, named Jaxon. Stevie had gotten a job as a clerk at a small warehouse that sold bolts and nuts. His office was in the stockroom and he did all the paperwork required for receiving and invoicing goods. Jaxon was in charge of receiving stock and pulling orders. His resemblance to Rory was uncanny and they could easily have been brothers. Jaxon wasn’t as bolshie as Rory, however, and had a far more affable nature. Initially, the similarity between the Rory and Jaxon unnerved Stevie a little, but soon he got over himself.

Jaxon had the habit of placing both his hands in his trouser pockets and fidgeting with his crotch when he spoke to Stevie. After a while, this idiosyncrasy troubled Stevie less and less, and actually began to excite him.

After Jaxon and Stevie realised that they lived a block away from one another, they commenced walking to and from work together. As the weeks wore on Jaxon’s conversations with Stevie also seemed to become more personal. Naturally, Stevie was fairly guarded, but that didn’t stop Jaxon. Jaxon also took to touching him fairly often. It wasn’t anything overt, but slightly more than just friendly. The leering way he often looked at Stevie, also pleasingly flustered Stevie.

When Stevie’s first rent was due, Kevin arrived at his apartment to collect it. After handing over the cash, Kevin unexpectedly extended his left hand and cupped Stevie’s chin.

“Fuck, you are a pretty little thing,” he stated, before asking, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I’m not gay,” Stevie replied, totally flustered.

Kevin let out a laugh and then with a snigger said, “Yeah, right, and I’m James Bond.”

As he leaned in toward Stevie, Kevin’s phone then rang. Irritated, he answered it. It was his wife calling to say that one of the other tenants was anxiously looking for him.

“I’ll be back later,” he said assuredly, before leaving.

Stevie bolted the door behind Kevin and when he heard a knock at his door thirty minutes later, he simply didn’t answer. After knocking a further three times, Stevie heard him use his spare key to try and open the door unsuccessfully, before Kevin finally departed.

The following day Kevin was waiting for him inside his apartment. As Stevie stood apprehensively looking at Kevin, Kevin said, “We’ve got business to attend to, Stevie.”

Stevie realised that if he caused a scene he could be out looking for a new place to stay, that night. After Kevin bolted the door, he moved toward Stevie and said, “Take off your shoes and socks.”

“Why?” Stevie asked, totally bewildered.

“Because I said so,” he replied.

Nonplussed, Stevie removed them. Next, Kevin began to unbutton Stevie’s shirt. As Stevie tried to push his hands away, Kevin growled, “Do you like this shirt, boy?”

“Yes,” Stevie answered.

“Well, if you don’t want me to rip it to pieces, then take your fucking hands away,” he warned.

After Kevin unbuttoned his shirt, Stevie inexplicably felt his cock start to stiffen. Once the shirt was off, Kevin’s hands moved to Stevie’s belt buckle and soon his pants dropped down. Stevie then bent down quickly to remove the pants from his ankles and to try and hide his hard-on. Kevin’s hands were equally fast, however, and instantly Stevie’s body was pulled upright and placed standing on the sofa.

“So, you’re not gay, right?” he said with a laugh, “Then what the fuck is this?” he concluded, as gripped hold of the stiff dick in Stevie’s underpants.

Stevie was left speechless.

“Take your underpants off,” Kevin said, in a raspy, horny growl. As Stevie did so, despite his nervousness he found himself becoming very excited.

Kevin now removed his own t-shirt and dropped his shorts to the floor. Observing him, Stevie saw that Kevin was hairier than he had imagined and despite his gut being quite large, it wasn’t flabby. As his hands ran up and down Stevie’s torso, Stevie instinctively placed his hands on Kevin’s shoulders. Stevie had begun to relax and was finding the entire experience rather stimulating. Kevin would never have been his first choice as sexual liberator, but maybe Kevin was exactly what he needed to open his closet door, Stevie figured. As they stared into one other’s eyes the entire scene felt unreal to Stevie, almost as if he was being unshackled from a prolonged captivity.

Stevie was abruptly ushered from his reverie when Kevin asked, “Have you ever been fucked before?”

“No,” Stevie replied.

Kevin’s next words, however, sent Stevie into a panic, as the reality of the situation hit home.

“Whoa, are you kidding me?” and then after a pause, Kevin disbelievingly asked, “Do you mean to tell me that I’m about to take your fucking cherry?”

“Please, no, no Kevin, please Kevin, please don’t fuck me,” Stevie stammered, before continuing, “I’ll suck or play with your dick as much as you like, but please don’t fuck me.”

Kevin remained silent for several seconds, before saying, “Well, the thing is, I’ve never taken anyone ones cherry before and when opportunity knocks, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

“No, please Kevin,” Stevie once more implored.

“It’s our lucky day, Stevie, you’ll see. I finally get to pluck a cherry and you get an everlasting memory to treasure,” Kevin assured Stevie.

Observing the bewildered look on Stevie’s face, Kevin continued, “When your cherry gets busted it must be unforgettable. There’s no point, to having a needle-dick breaking you in, you’ll live to regret that for the rest of your life. My knob, however, you’ll remember for the rest of your days. ‘Go big or go home’ as they say,” he concluded with a smirk on his face.

If these words were meant to console Stevie, they had the opposite effect.

‘Jesus,’ he thought, ‘what am I in for.’

Kevin now told Stevie to turn around on the couch. When Stevie began to protest, Kevin told him that he simply wanted to check out his pucker, to see if it would be able to cope with Kevin’s knob. Gingerly, Stevie turned around and bent over the backrest. Stevie then felt Kevin hands on his backside, before his thumbs pulled Stevie’s cheeks apart.

“Fuck. Fuuck, fuuuck, fuuuuuck,” Kevin exclaimed, escalating his volume with each expletive. “Jesus, Stevie, this is the prettiest fucking pucker I’ve ever seen.” A few more murmurs and groans followed before he continued. “Fuck me! My knob is going to love opening this little rosebud of yours. Jesus, boy, this hole is the eighth fucking wonder of the world.”

Shortly, Kevin’s tongue began badgering Stevie’s knot voraciously. Stevie had never felt anything more stimulating in his life. Kevin’s snorts and grunts as he ate Stevie out were mind-blowing, and Stevie felt like he had an out of control anteater scouring his hole. All Stevie’s resistance crumbled as his balls began to contract with excitement. When Stevie screamed that he was about to cum, Kevin quickly pulled Stevie’s cock backward and let Stevie unload in his mouth. Every masturbation session Stevie had ever enjoyed before, was like comparing a gentle handclap, to a standing ovation.

‘I am gay,’ Stevie thought, ‘Fuck yeah… I am fucking gay!’

“Stay where you are,” Kevin said afterwards, before bending down to retrieve a small tub from the pocket of his shorts. “Now, let’s prime your arse and get it ready for my cock.”

“Please Kevin…” Stevie again began to plead, before he was interrupted.

“I’m going to fuck you and that’s, that. Now, let’s make it as comfortable for you as possible,” Kevin finalised, with a slap to Stevie’s arse.

When Kevin’s finger entered Stevie the initial shock quickly gave way to a rather pleasant sensation. Kevin was patient and calmly worked Stevie’s pucker. Not long after, the finger was replaced with a thumb that Kevin began to move to and fro. Next, two fingers replaced the thumb as the stretching was intensified. Following on that, an uncomfortable third finger was introduced. As Stevie began to gasp, Kevin kept telling him to relax, in a soothing tone.

Stevie had not seen Kevin’s dick as yet and wondered how large it would be. Glimpses at Kevin’s tented boxers clearly showed that he was well-endowed. Slowly, the discomfort began to fade and when Kevin sensed that Stevie had begun to calm down, he manoeuvred Stevie’s body flat onto his stomach on the seat of the couch. After pushing his own boxers down to below his knob, Kevin smeared some lube on his cock before placing the head of his dick on Stevie’s pucker.

Gentle applying pressure, Kevin’s knob started its excavation. Stevie began to whimper as his sphincter capitulated to its new invader. As much as it hurt at first, Stevie found himself entranced by the strain and it was almost as if he was willing it ever onward. Kevin just kept pushing in harder and harder, savouring the tightness of the finest portal he had ever fucked. Once all in, Kevin relaxed for a few moments, before his hips slowly stirred to life. Shortly, because of the impracticality of the sofa, Kevin withdrew from Stevie and suggested that they more through to the bedroom.

When Stevie finally got a look at the thick cock that had deflowered him, he couldn’t believe that he had just accommodated Kevin’s fat dong in his arse.

Once in the bedroom, Kevin said, “Get on your stomach boy and spread your legs.” Stevie did as told.

As Kevin got on the bed behind Stevie, he spoke once more. “There are three things I need to tell you. Firstly, don’t you ever fucking bold your door again, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Stevie answered, submissively.

“Next, from now on when you hear my key in your door, you drop whatever you are doing and move through to the bedroom. When I enter the room I want you naked and ready, positioned exactly as you are now. Are we clear on that?” Kevin affirmed.

“Yes,” Stevie once more replied, in a whimper.

“Finally, that old bitch downstairs will be fucking off for three weeks, the day after tomorrow. I’ve bought her a bus ticket and she’s off to visit her sister. So… you will be seeing a lot of me and we won’t have to worry about quickies,” Kevin concluded.

Placing his cock at Stevie’s manhole Kevin entered him a lot more briskly on this occasion. Kevin’s hips also sprang to life much faster than before. Kevin’s dick felt much thicker than before, and Stevie reflected upon the fact that now having seen it, the mental picture was influencing his opinion. Fortunately, despite the fact that Kevin started thrusting urgently, the discomfort did diminish quite rapidly.

A minute or two later, Kevin began to grunt as he sprayed a deluge of spunk into Stevie’s backside.

After Kevin left, Stevie moved through to the toilet. As he expelled the seed from his arse he was astonished by the volume that Kevin had unloaded into him. Stevie then placed his left middle on his puffy manhole and rubbed it in the spunky residue. Lifting his finger to his nose, he first smelt the jizz before tasting it. This act excited him so much that he began tugging his cock frantically, before shooting a load into the bowl.

Stevie did not see Kevin the following day, but the evening after that, Kevin spent the night as forewarned. This time there were no quickies. With no time limitations, Stevie got to enjoy Kevin’s full repertoire. Kevin was into domination and control, which Stevie thrived on. Kevin was also extremely verbal and instructive, which further enhanced Stevie’s gratification. There was not a moment that went by, where Stevie’s small body wasn’t being pawed or manipulated by his large landlord. Initially, Stevie wasn’t mad about the nickname that Kevin gave him, ‘Piglet,’ but he soon grew to accept it.

The one thing that Stevie quickly learned was that Kevin did not like his arse being touched or rimmed. Stevie’s arse, however, was never left alone for a minute, and Kevin’s mouth, cock, and fingers, incessantly explored his manhole. Stevie particularly loved Kevin’s unbelievably long tongue. Kevin also did not allow Stevie to touch his own cock, but this wasn’t a problem because Kevin’s hot mouth frequently sucked Stevie’s balls dry.

Once Stevie received his first oral load from Kevin, he became a complete jizz hound. The volume of spunk and the force with which it surged out of Kevin’s dick was a source of total delight to Stevie.

“Are you ready for your premium blend of high protein, Piglet?” Kevin growled, every time Stevie got fed.

Not only did Kevin turn out to be a great kisser, but a highly sexed lover as well. After every one of their sessions ended, Stevie was totally exhausted. There were times over the following two nights, where he scarcely had the energy to talk once Kevin was done with him. Stevie’s arsehole was always puffy once they had finished, but he loved dozing off with the tingling sensation of a well-fucked pucker.

***

One day at work, Jaxon asked Stevie if he would mind staying late, because an order of stock en-route to the warehouse had been delayed, and would most probably only arrive after six-thirty. As they waited, they sat in Stevie’s office.

After the scenes that Stevie had experienced with Kevin over the few previous days, Stevie felt greatly emboldened and increasingly remote from his former guarded demeanour. As he observed Jaxon a strange thought crossed his mind. Given the strong resemblance between Jaxon and Rory, he had a flashback to his school days.

‘Maybe,’ he thought, ‘I shouldn’t have been so prissy and given into Rory.’

Although he only had the briefest glimpse of Rory’s thick knob, this image now began to play on his mind and Stevie wondered what Jaxon’s dick would look like, given his similarity to Rory.

The more he thought about it, the more obsessed he became about seeing Jaxon’s knob. Stevie also wondered if Jaxon had merely been playing him along with his stares and prying questions. When Jaxon once more placed his hands in his pockets and began fondling his crotch. On a horny impulse, Stevie then decided to make his move.

“What’s the score Jaxon?” he asked, with a naughty grin.

First looking down at his crotch and then back up at Stevie, Jaxon let out a rueful laugh, apologising for his bad habit.

“I don’t find it offensive,” Stevie retorted, with a mischievous look in his eyes. A quizzical expression appeared on Jaxon’s face as he tried to formulate Stevie’s response. Intrigued, Jaxon then brazenly placed his hand over his crotch and gave himself a really good fondle, reciprocating with his own brand of audaciousness.

Picking up on this, Stevie stood up and matter-of-factly mentioned that he needed to take a piss.

“Hold up,” Jaxon replied, “I’ll join you.”

As they moved towards the ablution area Stevie was trembling with excitement. Once there, they both climbed up on the high cement step in front of the long steel urinal. Standing side by side they both opened their trousers. Unable to resist, Stevie glanced down at the most unusual cock he had ever seen. It was large and long, but what made it peculiar was the long foreskin snout that dangled off the end of Jaxon’s dick.

Not able to restrain himself Stevie said, “Wow, now that’s what I call a foreskin!”

Jaxon went on to tell him that when he was born, his dad had wanted to have the flap removed, but that his mother was dead against it.

“I glad my mother got her way,” Jaxon exclaimed, as he flapped the overhang about shamelessly.

“I’ve always regretted that I am circumcised, and have often wondered what it would feel like to wank with a foreskin,” Stevie replied.

“Well, would you like to feel what it is like?” Jaxon asked.

After enthusiastically nodding yes, Stevie believed that he was simply going to tug on Jaxon’s dick. Jaxon then surprised Stevie by climbing off the step and moving to behind him, telling Stevie to face him. Jaxon now widened his stance so their cocks were at the same level. Next, holding the flap of his foreskin open with his thumbs, Jaxon invited Stevie to push his cock into the opening. It felt incredible as Stevie’s knob entered the moist tube. With a third of Stevie’s cock covered by Jaxon’s foreskin, Jaxon encouraged Stevie to tug on their docked dicks. The sensation was awesome and not long after, they both started becoming overexcited. Shortly, they coordinated their combined release to within seconds of one another.

Once they had cum, things got rather messy as spunk oozed through Stevie’s fingers and onto the floor. Their session was then rudely interrupted when the buzzer sounded, alerting them to the fact that the delivery had arrived. After pulling his pants up hastily, Jaxon departed to open the door, as Stevie used paper towels to mop up the mess, before joining him.

Having taken care of the delivery they decided to have something to eat at a pizzeria. By the time they eventually left the eatery, it was already eight-thirty and Stevie was sure that Kevin would have given up on seeing him that night. Stevie was also keen on a further scene with Jaxon and was delighted when Jaxon accepted an invitation for a cup of coffee. In the apartment, however, it was clear that they both had the same thing in mind, and shortly they were romping naked on the bed.

After a lengthy kissing session, something that Jaxon seemingly enjoyed very much, Stevie asked if he could again dock with Jaxon. Jaxon’s snout was very slimy this time, presumably from the residue of their former encounter, and the union of their cocks also lasted longer. When they both started getting fairly close once more, Stevie begged Jaxon to unload in his mouth. They quickly assumed the sixty-nine position on the bed and with Stevie on top he finally got a close-up look of Jaxon’s magnificent overhang. As Stevie sucked on Jaxon’s snout, his hand tugged on Jaxon’s dick. Jaxon was content with Stevie face-fucking him.

Not long after, they began to approach the point of no return. Jaxon was the first to cum and Stevie was overjoyed as the spunk began to ooze from Jaxon’s spout. Following on that, Stevie pulled Jaxon’s foreskin back hurriedly, liberating a bluish-purple dick-head. When Stevie covered it with his mouth, the taste was so incredible that Stevie excitedly shot his load.

Next, they lay side by side on the bed, kissing and fondling one another. Later, Jaxon’s hand found its way to Stevie’s backside before he commenced caressing Stevie’s pucker.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Stevie asked, encouragingly.

“Fuck yeah,” Jaxon replied.

Instantly, Stevie moved onto his stomach and invitingly opened his legs. Two days before, Kevin had left a large tub of lube on the bedside table. This was now put to good use as Jaxon primed them for his entry. Although Jaxon’s cock was longer than Kevin’s it wasn’t as thick, which made his entry far more comfortable. Because of his very substantial foreskin, the sensation in Stevie’s backside was also very different to Kevin’s far more abrasive thrusting. Both sensations we equally pleasing to Stevie and he particularly loved Jaxon’s leisurely approach.

When Jaxon closed in on his body and began kissing his neck, shoulders, and ears, Stevie sighed with pleasure. As they both became enraptured in their union, they did not hear the front door opening. Both we startled when they heard a voice behind them. Jaxon immediately rolled off Stevie, before Stevie quickly spun around.

Standing in the doorway, Kevin had a shit-faced grin. Stevie was surprised that he didn’t look angry.

“Well, looks like I’m missing out on the party,” Kevin said, chuckling.

“This is Jaxon, we work together,” Stevie explained, before glancing at Jaxon, who had a ‘caught in the act’ expression on his face. “And this is Kevin, my landlord,” Stevie concluded, uncomfortably completing their introductions.

“Well, boys, am I also invited to the party?” Kevin asked as he moved towards the bed.

After looking at one another a little apprehensively, both Jaxon and Stevie merely shrugged their shoulders in agreement.

After Kevin had stripped, in his inimitable fashion he began to take control. As Kevin stood naked before them the former anxious look on Jaxon’s face became more relaxed and was replaced by a look of horny intrigue. Jaxon had never had a threesome before and the thought of it, excited him enormously.

“Well, where were we… Oh yes, Piglet was on his stomach and you were fucking him,” Kevin uttered in a commanding voice. Jaxon let out a suppressed laugh at the mention of Stevie’s nickname. After Stevie shot Jaxon a quick look of mock annoyance, Kevin continued, “Assume your former position, boys.”

Once back on top of Stevie, Jaxon was told to widen his legs. “I want to see your dick fucking Piglet’s pucker,” Kevin ordered.

Jaxon complied as his knees pushed Stevie’s legs even wider apart. As Jaxon began his leisurely thrusting, it soon became clear to Stevie that Jaxon’s manhole was under attack from the anteater. The grunts from Jaxon were incredible, as Kevin animatedly rimmed him.

Kevin then issued an order to Jaxon. “Just let me know when you get too close. You only cum when I tell you to.”

After a few minutes, Jaxon announced his impending orgasm. Kevin hastily pulled Jaxon off Stevie, before ordering Stevie to move toward him and lift onto his knees. With Stevie in the doggy position at the edge of the bed, Kevin then told Jaxon to move under Stevie’s body on his back, so that he could get a close-up of Kevin’s cock fucking Stevie’s butt. Jaxon then excitedly moved under Stevie to witness the promised spectacle. Once in position, he observed Kevin’s thick knob forcing its way into Stevie’s small portal. Stevie’s groans and the way Kevin’s knob speared into him, made Jaxon bristle with horniness.

Jaxon had ever only ever seen this spectacle in porn videos, but the reality of watching this live, far surpassed the remoteness of this on a television screen. The smell of sex and tactile vision of anal penetration was mesmerising to Jaxon. After a minute or two, Jaxon drew Stevie’s cock into his mouth before he felt Stevie’s reciprocal gesture. Jaxon continued to watch the thick pistoning shaft above him and enjoyed the feel of Kevin’s heavy balls slapping the top of his head. It was a surreal experience and more thrilling than anything he had formerly experienced.

When Jaxon heard Kevin grunting, he knew that an orgasm was imminent. As Kevin’s hammering became staggered, Jaxon could see cream begin to ooze out of Stevie’s hole. Next, Kevin’s cock was slowly extracted and offered to Jaxon’s mouth. After a good cleaning, Jaxon heard Kevin instruct Stevie to lower his pucker onto Jaxon’s mouth.

“Feed our visitor,” Jaxon heard Kevin command. As Stevie’s manhole settled on his lips, a sustained shower of spunk began to fill his mouth, which Jaxon thirstily imbibed.

After this initial session, Kevin offered to fetch some beers from his place. A few minutes later, they were all sipping on their beers in the lounge. As they did so, Stevie enthusiastically told Kevin about his docking experience with Jaxon. Totally intrigued, Kevin said that he also wanted to try this out. Once Kevin and Jaxon’s dicks were fused, Kevin began to tug away energetically. Shortly, their heads were locked and they really commenced a robust bout of kissing. As Stevie watched them, he was very pleased that they were getting along so well.

At one point, as their lips broke apart, Kevin barked, “I want to fuck your butt right now.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jaxon hornily replied.

Stevie was instructed to get the lube from the room and when he returned, Jaxon was already leaning on the back of the couch with his elbows. Next, Stevie watched as Kevin began to nudge his dick into Jaxon’s backside. Jaxon gasped and Kevin grunted as they got underway. Stevie also began to tug on his cock as he watched this very hot scene. Later, when Kevin lifted Jaxon’s torso and orally attacked his neck and shoulders, Stevie was intrigued by the chemistry between these two big guys. Their sensual murmurs back and forth also enthralled him. Kevin became ‘daddy,’ and Jaxon, ‘my big boy.’ Much as Stevie enjoyed watching, he began to feel somewhat excluded and envious of the lustful banter between the two of them.

Before long, Jaxon and Kevin moved through to the bedroom with Stevie trailing behind. Once there, Jaxon was on his back with his legs over Kevin’s shoulders, having his butt solidly fucked. The intensity of their kissing was awesome, and again, Stevie just stood by and wistfully watched. When Kevin lifted his torso and started tugging on Jaxon’s dick as he continued thrusting into him, no invitation was extended to Stevie. Not long after, Kevin and Jaxon both unloaded, before they embraced like two lovers.

When they returned to the lounge Kevin asked Jaxon where he lived. Kevin then became obsessed about Jaxon moving in to this apartment block and very soon a deal had been concluded. Throughout, the two of them couldn’t keep their hands and lips off one another.

In fact, by that weekend, Jaxon was Stevie’s neighbour.

When they moved back to the bedroom more three-way action took place. Stevie got fucked by both guys and was very happy when he got consume a further helping of spunk from each of them.

After that session had ended though, Kevin suddenly became very officious and insisted that Jaxon accompany him to his apartment, to take care of the paperwork required for his lease. Unsurprisingly, Stevie did not see them again that night.

Although Stevie became the odd man out thereafter, he wasn’t too upset and realised that the two of them had obviously bonded. Ever diminishing threesomes now took place in Jaxon’s apartment, and when Stevie was included, it began to feel like a dog having a bone tossed at it.

A week later, a miracle occurred in Kevin’s life when his wife informed him that her sister had invited her to live with the sister permanently. Their relationship had been shit for years and this was a blessing for Kevin. Kevin ‘kindly’ packed up all her belongings and had them sent to her. A week after that, Jaxon permanently moved into Kevin’s apartment.

A month or so later, after one of their diminishing threesomes, Jaxon asked Stevie for a special favour. An old buddy from his hometown, Wiktor Kolwalczyk, had acquired work as an auto electrician in the city and needed a place to stay for a few weeks. Jaxon asked Stevie if he would put him up. Apparently, Jaxon and Wiktor had been fuck-buddies in high school, but Jaxon wasn’t sure what Wiktor’s scene was nowadays.

Stevie wasn’t really keen but simply couldn’t refuse. The second sofa in his lounge was a sleeper couch, and so he didn’t really have a valid excuse to say no. Kevin further enforced his lover’s request, by offering a substantial rent reduction for the period of Wiktor’s stay.

On the evening of Wiktor’s arrival, dinner was arranged in Kevin’s apartment. Before that, however, Stevie sat in his apartment waiting for Jaxon to arrive with his buddy. When they finally got there, Stevie got a bit of a shock at the sight of Wiktor. Masculine as Jaxon and Kevin were, Wiktor looked like a redneck biker from hillbilly land and the word, ‘rough,’ didn’t even begin to describe him. Wiktor was six-feet-four-inches-tall and was lanky and scruffy. Wiktor had long brown hair that he wore in a ponytail. He also had a scraggly beard and a multitude of tattoos. Above all, he had an intimidating demeanour. Stevie’s heart just sank when he saw the guy that would be staying with him.

At dinner, the one thing that quickly became apparent was that Kevin and Wiktor weren’t going to hit it off. Most of the conversation came from Jaxon, as he nattered on about their school days. It was a rather short evening and before long, Stevie and Wiktor made their way back to Stevie’s apartment. As they sat in the lounge, Wiktor produced a bottle of bourbon and insisted that Stevie join him.

“I don’t like that Kevin arsehole,” Wiktor said, with a dismissive look on his face. “I can’t believe that Jaxon has hooked up with him.”

Stevie tried to explain that Kevin was actually a nice guy, but Wiktor was having none of it.

“Why didn’t Jaxon rather hook-up with you?” Wiktor asked, with a puzzled look on his face.

Stevie then told him about how he had become the odd man out after he had introduced them.

With a laugh, Wiktor told Stevie what a cock hound Jaxon had been when they were younger, and how he had regularly fucked Jaxon. “I wonder if Jaxon still likes being spanked,” he uttered, with a snigger.

“Do you like spanking?” Stevie asked, apprehensively.

“Stevie, I’ll do anything that anyone wants,” he replied. “As long as I am fucking arse or pussy, anything goes,” he concluded, matter-of-factly. Then, after a pause, he continued, “You remind me of a chick I regularly fucked. She was also petite like you and a really hot little bitch… By the way, how tall are you?”

“Five-foot-four inches,” Stevie answered.

“Fuck!” Then I’m a cock length taller than you,” Wiktor retorted, with a laugh.

Stevie’s mind quickly made the mental calculation, wondering if he had just been informed that Wiktor had a twelve inch dick.

Uncomfortably breaking the silence, Stevie then went on to inform Wiktor that since Wiktor was as tall as he was, he could use the bed in the bedroom and that Stevie was happy to use the sleeper couch.

“Am I not your type?” Wiktor asked.

Stevie was caught off guard by the comment and just sat there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, not saying a word.

“Well, you are definitely my type and I would love to have sex with you. Besides, I haven’t had sex for about a week and could really do with a helping hand.” After allowing his words to sink in, Wiktor then continued, “If you don’t find me appealing, however, I promise I’ll back off,” Wiktor concluded.

Stevie merely shrugged his shoulders timidly, nervously acquiescence.

After that Wiktor stood up he extended his hand to Stevie, as if summoning him. Stevie obediently arose and was presently being led off to the bedroom.

“Let’s undress baby,” Wiktor said, once there.

As they both disrobed, many more tattoos revealed themselves. Wiktor wasn’t overly hairy but didn’t shave any part of his body in order to show-off his ink. Stevie had mesmerizingly observed Wiktor’s large hands throughout the evening, but when he saw Wiktor’s large feet, his mouth almost dropped open. Wiktor’s feet were so large that they looked like two scuba fins. The biggest shock, however, was to follow when Wiktor dropped his underpants. Never had the word ‘dong’ been more appropriate. The uncut tusk curled toward the right and extended way down his thigh. Wiktor also had the biggest pair of low hanging balls that Stevie had ever seen.

Observing Stevie’s shocked expression, Wiktor let out a laugh and said, “Don’t worry baby, I’ve never killed anyone before.” Then, after a brief pause, Wiktor sincerely assured Stevie that he wouldn’t hurt him.

“Why don’t you lie back on the bed and let me take care of things,” Wiktor next advised him.

What followed, took Stevie to a far higher level of sensuality than he had experienced with either Kevin or Jaxon. Starting at Stevie’s feet, Wiktor first suck on Stevie’s toes as he alternated between legs, before slowly moving upward. Wiktor’s nibbling lips and electric tongue made Stevie writhe with pleasure as the northward progression took place. Stevie felt like he was in a sensual trance as his small body was worshipped. Calves, knees, and then thighs followed before his balls were encased in a warm and embracing mouth. Following on that, his dick was sheathed by Wiktor’s pulsating mouth.

As Wiktor’s suctioning lips progressed ever upward, Stevie’s bellybutton, stomach, chest, and then nipples followed. After a while, Stevie’s left hand got orally caressed before Wiktor moved up his arm, after which, the right arm received the same treatment. Stevie’s neck then followed before his face and ears received their share of the spoils. Finally, Stevie’s mouth received the lion’s share.

“Please untie your hair,” Stevie managed to request, as their lips broke apart for a moment. Removing the elastic band after briefly lifting his head, Wiktor then shook his mane loose before shrouding their heads in a curtain of thick hair. After an eternity of pleasure, Wiktor anchored himself on his knees in a reversed position. He then pulled Stevie’s body up from under him, with the front of their torso’s touching. With his arms firmly encasing Stevie, he drew Stevie’s cock into his mouth. As Stevie hung off the front of Wiktor upside down, he looked downward at Wiktor’s incredible horn.

Even given Stevie’s diminutive size, Wiktor’s dick easily reached Stevie’s mouth. After sucking on the hooded head for a short while, Stevie really had to pull down hard to liberate Wiktor’s dick-head from its tight foreskin. Stevie was delighted as the elongated cock-head of Wiktor’s knob finally broke free of its confinement. As the head popped out there was a far stronger smell than Stevie had experienced with Jaxon’s uncut wonder. First inhaling the pungent odour, Stevie lips then moved over the pink head.

By now, his excitement had begun to build to such an extent that Stevie’s balls had begun to contract.

As Stevie forewarned Wiktor of his impeding released, Wiktor’s’ only response was a prolonged, “Mmmm.”

With Stevie’s legs flailing in the air, Stevie let rip and shot the biggest load of his life.

After Wiktor had consumed all that he had to give, Stevie was placed back on the bed on his stomach. Next, the same procedure from before was followed as Wiktor once more leisurely moved up his body, starting at Stevie’s feet. On his upward journey, although Stevie’s buns were nibbled upon, his manhole was left untouched. Ultimately, after the journey once again ended at Stevie’s head, Wiktor then finally moved down and took possession of his pucker. Much as Stevie had been entranced by the ant eating abilities of Kevin, they paled in comparison to the scraping talents of Wiktor’s teeth and Stevie almost clawed the cover off his bed and mattress.

Having paid his dues, Wiktor’s turn had now arrived and Stevie didn’t give a shit if Wiktor ripped his arse apart. The pleasure Stevie had thus far enjoyed would be well worth the discomfort. Strangely, Wiktor’s entry was very comfortable and as Wiktor penetrated ever deeper, Stevie began to egg him on.

“Don’t hold back, Wiktor, just fuck me as hard as you like,” Stevie began intoning.

Still, Wiktor took it easy and entered Stevie cautiously. Stevie then kept pushing his backside upward, inviting a greater intensity.

When Wiktor bottomed out and began spearing Stevie, Wiktor told Stevie that because his nuts were full, he wanted to unload in Stevie’s mouth. Wiktor‘s restraint up till now had been masterful, but Stevie was pleased when Wiktor finally began pummelling his backside meaningfully. Large as it was, Stevie was very happy that he was able to take the full length of Wiktor’s knob. A little later, when Wiktor told Stevie that he was getting very close, Stevie’s body was turned over as Wiktor’s body moved upward towards Stevie’s mouth. Wiktor then informed Stevie not to swallow, but simply hold the spunk in his mouth.

Although Stevie wasn’t sure why Wiktor had made this request, he did so. What he didn’t know was that his first snowballing session was about to happen.

Wiktor then oozed his lava into Stevie’s mouth. He was not a blaster like Kevin, but the volume was every bit as impressive. With his cum overflowing from Stevie’s mouth, Wiktor quickly repositioned his body and soon their tongues were churning Wiktor’s spunk. The sensation was unbelievable. Very slowly, the entire load of jizz was finally consumed by both of them.

Shortly after, Stevie’s legs were placed over Wiktor’s shoulders before he was again penetrated Stevie’s backside. Although the intensity of this position was far more extreme, by now Stevie was literally begging Wiktor to abuse his hole.

Their second session was far quicker and Stevie commenced yanking on his knob like a madman when Wiktor announced he was about to cum. Stevie’s body was practically convulsing as he unloaded, moments before Wiktor shot his second load.

Apologetically, Wiktor announced that he was exhausted after a long day of travelling and really needed some sleep. Sated, they were both soon heading off in slumber land. Prior to falling asleep, however, Stevie couldn’t believe how his respect for the giant spooning him had escalated. The feeling of fulfillment as The Sandman overwhelmed him was the most awesome experience of his entire life.

Over the next two weeks, they did not receive dinner invitations from Kevin and Jaxon. No invitations were extended either. Whenever they saw one another, however, their encounters were very cordial.

Stevie constantly wondered about Wiktor’s longevity and was relieved on a daily basis, when no mention was made about alternative accommodation. After being side lined by Kevin and Jaxon, Stevie was a little sensitive and apprehensive.

A few weeks later after one of their love making sessions, Wiktor apologised for not having done anything about getting another place to live, making the excuse that things at work had just been very hectic. Casually, Stevie replied that it really wasn’t a problem and that Wiktor could stay as long as he liked.

Wiktor’s reply was like music to his ears. “I really feel very strongly about you and would like to make our relationship more permanent… if you don’t mind having me around.”

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

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If you’re in sales, Summer is either the worst of times or the best time; Like Sydney Carton you may about to get your head chopped or you’re out beating the path to sell what you’ve got or you’re frightened about Fall and that you don’t think you’ll have anything to sell so you’re on the road is to find merchandise. I’d just sold my last piece, was tired, bored and needed to let everything stop for a while so, dumb as it sounds packed a bag, got in my car, flipped a coin as to which way to turn then started on a road trip with no destination, no time limit. Just me, the car, the open road and time to kill. And, who knew?, maybe get restocked in terms of what could be sold.

These days most guys in high dollar sales travel by plane but I usually have only one or two things available so flying in and out just makes no sense financially nor does hauling the merchandise on offer around in first class. You learn real quick that there are lookers everywhere but few prove to be buyers. Also, I’m good at what I do, my merchandise is top quality, not for every Joe to look at, fondle it, see if they can try it-no- then try and fuck me down on the price or say they’d take it….If; In other words, they can’t afford it. The internet has helped, I can show what I’ve got to hundreds of purchasers at once charge them for the privilege of looking, also quickly find who is a serious buyer and who’s just “looking ‘”.

But that was behind me as I came to another junction and flipped the coin again. West. (I’d started this flipping thing in the parking lot by my condo but, after too many flips and too many trips around my own block, I only used it when there was a major junction or a sign advertising something that looked interesting.) Using that method I got out of town, county and state quickly enough but found myself on a long, dull stretch of Interstate headed West. By then, the only junctions I found were for North or South which were as dull as the road I was on so I just stayed on it.

And then I had a brain wave, something I should have had about two hundred miles earlier but didn’t…sometimes we’re just too damn dumb. What I discovered was that staying on the Interstate wasn’t going to achieve what I had in mind which was to see something of wherever I happened to be. Sure, they had a purpose but my purpose just now was to get off it and stay off. So, without flipping a coin, I took the next exit then found what had been the “old” road before the Interstate flew through killing local businesses and, with the advent of Walmart, almost killing whole towns. Shopping Malls hadn’t helped, the latest knife in commerce, the wholesale outlet mall, was just one more step down in the death of small town America.

The place I was raised, to be specific, Gothenburg, Nebraska, was a good example of a nice, if isolated and dying place. You may have heard of Gothenburg, seen pictures of the beautiful fountains, gardens, the palace…however that Gothenburg is in Sweden and bears no resemblance to the green fields, farms and ranches of central Nebraska. I’m not even sure if they rebuilt the whole damn castle thinking that it could draw enough tourists to make it pay it would. But it’s in places like my home town I find my merchandise, at least the best merchandise, the other, the sleazy, the shop worn, the used up can be had in any city but for clean, healthy stock, it’s the country or nowhere. Ex Marines are also a good choice-and in demand-as they’ve been broken to accept authority without question.

It’s a bit hard to explain what I do. Sure, in one sentence, I sell Men but that doesn’t really cover it and the services I perform. I’m no white slaver, no one is drugged, put in a bag awakening to finding themselves on a slow boat to somewhere. Nope, when my men are sold, they are happy to be property, happy to have a new, good owner and I’m happy with the colossal fees that I receive. No way around it, there are all sorts of Federal, State plus local statutes that make what I do a felony which, if caught, could get me a lengthy stretch in prison. Something I wish to avoid and, I must say, my clients are equally anxious for me to stay “out” for if I’m nailed, some will probably go down as well. It’s part of the sales/consumer arrangement that exists in various ways in all business.

I work for harried, often married, men who have found that having a man to come home to on occasion is just what they want. In generally, they like something that’s reasonably young, say25-35, in primo shape and sees sex as both a sport as well as an art: Also understands that some of these owners may have certain kinks that fall somewhat without the normal range of anyone’s sexuality. Some may be sadists, others in to body modification or keeping their property caged and used as an animal. I have to know these things up front because it’s one thing to pitch being a male whore to some guy but quite another to explain to him that, yeah, he’ll get a can load of money but his nuts may be cut off or he may end up with a full body tattoo or spend his days on a rack, fully stretched out, screaming for real, not for a porno video.  

Only to a certain sort of man can this proposition be successfully sold but, when I find one, both they and I are on the way to a find pay day; The assumption that the sold goods get nothing is ridiculous. While, yeah, there are some few, very few, guys who are so deeply into whatever cranks their turns, they don’t give a damn about money; They do NOT make good merchandise as it’s all about them, their tastes, their desires with no thought to the purchaser who is there to see that the fore named are all supplied; He likes them as well but on his terms, not theirs.

Then there’s training. Say I found a guy who was in for this, would accept one of the more normal fetishes, I can’t just hustle him to John X whom I happen to know likes the same fetish, there’s too great a risk that the merchandise decides otherwise, wants out. You can memorialize anything you want but, to quote the late Sam Goldwyn, “A contract isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.” I’m no sexual athlete so just for the correctness of the situation, I don’t sleep with the merchandise, tempted, but it just doesn’t happen. However, given my line of work, I’ve come to know men who are very experienced in a wide ranging selection of sexual activities. Just what doesn’t matter but the bottom line to that is that the merchandise has to already be skilled at basic sex, its practices and forms. They have to be ready to be fucked, know how to fuck, suck, get sucked, eat a guys ass…the usual, the normal. Also, they’ve got to be in shape. Following those requirements, we get into the more specialized world of what someone may want that strays from the normal. Over time I’ve developed a group of men who function as, sometimes a trainer, sometimes a validator of the abilities of the product. I have to be absofuckinglutely certain that what I say they can and will do is fact, if not, my business would collapse very quickly making me find a job as a bean counter for a chain of groceries stores or something equally tedious.

One thing I stress to purchasers is that as great looking as they may be when delivered, if they’re not given access to a gym, for more than briefly now and then, what looks so good will run to fat and flab very quickly. Of the complaints I get, the one most often concerns itself with their muscle god who has deflated, has no muscle tone, no six pack; Without even speaking to the former merchandise, I know the answer; Not enough gym time. When you see muscle gods, whether in porn or as a body builder, few realize just how much time it takes to hang all that muscle on that frame and, as stands to reason, the more meat there is, the more time it takes to put it there. I don’t give refunds but I have taken merchandise back, sent it to a buddy in Florida who runs a private gym then had them reconditioned as well as their tan worked on; The costs of doing that are split between the former owner as well as the next owner. Also, the owner from whom I retrieved the poorly used merchandise goes off my list of clients which can hurt him in ways he doesn’t understand.

Every kink, every fetish has their own underground system of knowing who are members and how to communicate with them. In that world my code name is “Meat Man” so when the word gets out that the Meat Man removed merchandise for whatever reason, that person is effectively shunned. It’s as if he’s the disease carrier and the others in his circle want me to understand they’re not like him, they practically build gyms in their homes so their toys stay nicely muscled up, fuck I know one guy, who actually has three products he got from me, that are routinely sent them to Aruba just for the tanning and the workouts in the water.  When he calls with a request I will jump on a plane to meet with him; I know his tastes are high, what he wants difficult but he’s willing to pay top price including the cost of flying me in and I only travel first class. For example, at one point he wanted a dwarf body builder who was willing to be made a transsexual. That does not grow on trees, took almost two years to fill the order but I did and the fee was into seven figures. After that check cleared I took a month off, went to Aruba, worked on my own tan plus took a pair of potential sales items just to prove to me what they could do, how often they could do it as well as do it with enthusiasm. They also worked on their tans.

People who know me, generally my clients, say to me, “Dan, why don’t you have a partner, you’re good looking, in shape, wealthy….”. They’ve a point but almost without exception, every guy I’ve hooked up with has, eventually turned to me to say….“Dan, I’d like to get in on the big bucks.” Okay by me but at that moment our relationship ends and their life as merchandise begins. They’ve been around me, they think they know what goes on so they’re prepared to do what it takes.

That’s what they think. I don’t discuss my whole business with my pleasures so they don’t know about the testing to make sure they can do what they’re saying they’d like to do. Obviously, I can’t have their nuts cut off just to see if they’d do it. However, when it comes to almost everything else, they’re beaten, tortured, fucked for hours, their ability to suck is done with a hose and can take two to three hours, they find themselves in stress bondage, the sort that may not look good but hurts, their testicles tortured and on and on. Only then do I take them to a physique photographer to have them photographed with an emphasis on whatever it is they do best or think they do best. No point in handing round pictures of a guy in a five point chain star when what the purchaser wants is someone to live in a cage and be his dog. Not to mention the photographer and I split the profits when he sells the pictures to porn markets. It’s called making it coming and going. The camera guy charges reduced rates because he’s getting profit another way plus my overhead is lowered; It’s that way in a lot of what I do. I can’t have these guys wandering around naked or in Speedos so they have to be clothed, fed, lodged…so there, too, are financial paths to be dealt with.

A lot, well most,  of my clients do not want something, that looks like street trash-great for porn but not to be a ‘companion’ they can take wherever. They want to be able to dress them up, take them with them, show them off to other guys who might want to get in touch with me just to see, by chance I had…. Of course where they’re going and how they’re about to be shown off can vary widely but I have it down to two forms of dress when they’re presented for initial inspection. Number one is in close fitting jeans, a white deep V neck T-shirt, socks and sneakers. They always are wearing a jock, sometimes, tighty whiteys. The other model is the prototypical man in the gray flannel suit. Depending on the season, I bring him in looking as if he shopped at Paul Stuart or Brooks Brothers. Button down shirt, silk rep tie, wing tips, looks just like any ad agent on Madison Avenue. This is probably my best seller. Whatever they may do in the bedroom, the dungeon or a secluded field, initially they look like someone they can relate to, one of their own who, they know, is twisted to their specific tastes….just doesn’t appear anything other than …normal. That they’re not, but look as they do is just part of the inducement to buy; Who would bother purchasing something that, even in the shop window you didn’t want?

When you peel the guy in jeans and a T shirt, you can be pretty sure of what you’re going to see but a well cut suit conceals a great many body types. Just because I get asked, contrary to what most people think, my clients do not want men so muscled up they’re almost a joke. A guy in his late twenties to mid thirties, modest six pack, good arms and legs is the most preferred plus has the longest “career”. In this case I do take ‘trade ins’ however that’s usually been specified in advance. Works best for everyone. I get the fees many times, the merchandise gets an ever rising price and several men get the pleasure of something that gets better as experience gets greater. The smartest of these men sock away every penny they make so when their career is over or they want out, they’ve a sizable nest egg. Several of them run businesses, some of which I use; One has a fine gentleman’s store in Philadelphia-where my suits come from-another a really nice mens’ only resort in Florida and a third-surprised even me- returned to his former profession as an airline captain. Some of them stay with what becomes their life partner, some, often to please their “owner” go into porn-the owner usually owns the studio- some unfortunately drift into drugs, alcohol and street hustling, some just disappear, in a sense a parallel to real life relationships.

Life along the less traveled road was good, I’d found a couple of Mom and Pop restaurants that made me a bit fatter for the quality and quantity of their cooking, stopped by interesting road side attractions that I thought wouldn’t be worth my time but were and, with each stop, some easy conversation, was alerted to something else, just down the road I couldn’t have known about. Went to a small town rodeo that was more fun than I’d had in a long time; The good people there-they were all neighbors or from the area-welcomed a stranger, insisted I join them for their pot luck dinner then stayed for the dance…it was almost too much home spun Americana at one time. And, professionally, saw some young cowpokes that I’d have like to add to my merchandise but this wasn’t the time or the place for recruiting. It’s hard to remember, once you’re in the flesh peddling business, that there are still good, civil people who are not suspicious, will welcome you on the basis of an out of state license tag without thinking ‘stranger danger’ then offer whatever they have to make you comfortable all in return for your genuine interest in them and what they’re doing. All I will say is that I hope nobody had a camera of me learning to line dance or do the two step. I’d remind you I’m a good looking man, 43, prime beef in many ways, nicely masculine, I could’ve gone home with a number of ladies. And maybe a couple of the guys but I was just being as neighborly as they were.

The only offer I accepted was from an older couple who had a sort of impromptu bed and breakfast; After the dance, I was a long way from anywhere so I followed them home. Comfortable room, bed, I dropped to sleep immediately, was wakened by the smell of coffee and bacon. The lady said her husband had been up and gone earlier but she’d let me sleep in, me being from the city, not probably keeping farm hours. Insisted I sit down and “tuck right in while it’s still fresh” then had one of the best breakfasts I’d ever eaten while she fretted that, “the biscuits didn’t just come right”. After that she said the bathroom was upstairs if I wanted to shave and shower before I left or…if I wanted to stay a day or two, there wasn’t much to do but her husband could take me to “Earl’s” later for a beer or some cards or…I almost was tempted. It crossed my mind that some of the guys I’d seen the previous evening might also drop by “Earls”. Clearly nothing would be said but seeds could be planted, names taken, even some vague tastes in whatever plus whoever might be discovered. 

Having potential live stock tucked away for a future sale is always a plus. One thing…I made a point to remember where the place with the nice couple as well as the good breakfast was along with a couple of local boys who nicely fitted into their jeans-in the country all you have to do is ask a question, mention someone you’ve seen and you’ve got the information or a rather complete bio, more than you could probably discover on your own. She actually named a couple of the young men who, in her words, ‘got growed up, probably move out of here now, ain’t enough for them to do…just like young men every where I guess.” She guessed right; Asked her to write out their names…if they ever came town it would be my pleasure to show them as good a time there as I’d been showed here. She smiled, this was just the sort of country hospitality that was expected. Of course she’d see to it they got in touch if they ever headed my way. One other thing I knew, she would do recruiting for me that I could not have done, tell whomever what a nice man I was, respectable, they should look me then drop in. I told her I’d look forward to that. I could see she was thinking about something….left for a moment then returned with a pair of pictures of the men in question. Apologized, she wasn’t very good with a camera but at least this gave me a way to remember them….I promised I would and meant it.

However, the best thing was to get on to wherever I didn’t know I was going. Took her up on the shower; Shaved and when I left she was, she said, embarrassed to have to ask me for twenty dollars. I gave her a hundred, told her to tell her husband to “buy one for the boys at Earls until the next time… and for her to get herself something nice”. I was sincere, she saw that although holding the hundred made her blush: She took me at my word when I said there’d be a “next time”. There were no printed card but she wrote out their name, number and address. Strange to see something with no cell phone, no email, no face book, just a simple, direct name, address and telephone. I gave her my business card, well, the one I give people who have no idea and no business knowing what I do. On it I’m a corporate executive of a company called “Discovery Capital” which meant nothing but read good. Had my home address, phone, email etc. She said she wouldn’t lose it and to expect a card at Christmas. I told her I planned on dropping in on my way back from…and didn’t finish the sentence. She told me how to get to the highway; We waved at each other as I drove off.

I’d changed over night. I felt good, really refreshed, happy to be out on the road and not specifically on the look out. For the first time I’d been relaxed enough to just throw on some khakis and an open throated shirt, no slacks, freshly pressed shirt or a jacket. The fields looked green and then, it happens everywhere, a stretch of road that was just dead dull. The little towns I went through were uninteresting, never much now they were dying as time or the interstate passed them, unwelcoming so…I just went on through. Around one or two I began to regret I hadn’t accepted my hostess’ offer to “red up a sack lunch, just in case you feel peckish…”. Whatever it would have been, would have been good and I hadn’t seen a place that even looked clean. At one major highway there was a truck stop-which usually has good food-but I was deep in my country driving and to walk into the smoke filled, curse filled “professionally” partitioned dining room full of truckers wasn’t what I wanted; Forty miles later things got worse.

I know nothing about cars, I’m no mechanic so if putting gas in it, oil occasionally and keeping the windshield fluid container filled is all it takes to keep them running, then I’m good. I lease cars because their care and maintenance becomes the problem for another so, when things go wrong, they can solve it or give me a new car. But out here, with a dying eight cylinder thing, they weren’t convenient. It was obvious that my skill at pumping gas, checking oil and wind screen solvent wasn’t going to be of any help in other words… I’m sunk.

Which, suddenly, I was but more so. It was running but, clearly, it wasn’t going to run much further. Around a bend there was what must have been a gas station back when. The pumps had glass globes on top-I thought about antique dealers to whom those remnants from the past represented profit but here were only two of them, no sign announcing the price of gas, nothing but it was a place to pull over. I was surprised to find it was actually a working business, a mechanic’s shop which, once I was there, was obvious and, more good luck, he clearly knew about engines as there were large pieces of farm equipment in various stages of repair. Just no one that I could see but, hey, compared to where I could be and the situation I could be in, I was doing alright. Idly, I thought about calling back to my hosts of the previous evening, something told me, although it would take hours, they’d show up, probably with a mechanic and/or a tow truck. Another night or two plus some breakfasts wasn’t a bad idea but a better one was to call AAA then use the Premium membership I paid for. This was the moment for them to deliver.

One good thing about the interstate system is that the towers that handle cell phone calls are strung along them and, usually, you can get a call through. Which I did. Problem was, as helpful as they wanted to be, I wasn’t entirely able to tell them where I was, something they needed to know. I vaguely remembered the name of the last town I’d gone through, several miles back, but didn’t have an address, didn’t know the number of the road I was on….they offered to try and triangulate my location by cell towers but that would take awhile. Their suggestion was that I see what, if anything, I could find to identify where I was; In effect said, “Keep in touch”…

Sensibly, I should have though of this, if this was a business, even one as casually run as this seemed to be, there would be some form of address or phone number on a pad or an invoice, something that would tell me-and them-where I was. It was hours until dark so I wasn’t worried about being stranded, cars did, occasionally, go by on the road. Probably could hail one of them and at least find out where I was although for a grown man to not know would strike others as stupid-it struck me as stupid- so I set out on my mini reconnaissance mission.

What bothered me was that, for an afternoon on a business day, there was no activity I could see. We all have that moment when we think, this is the time, the time I walk in to a place and ….everyone is dead, shot or cut up or whatever. It’s a creepy kind of feeling but that’s what I got. The main office, if you could call it that, was left over from its days as a gas station, big room, windows looking out on the lot, some desks, chairs, filing cabinets, a pair of hooks from which depended two keys for the lavatories and, with no trouble I did find a name, an address plus a phone number then almost flipped open my phone to call AAA to give them the happy news that I’d found myself as goofy as that sounds. But I was launched into exploration mode and was curious as to why no one was around so I went through the door to what would have been the bays to work on cars and now, probably, large equipment. Also, why call AAA if there was a mechanic who could diagnose the problem then fix it before AAA could do much. It was all quiet then something warm and wet hit my head, like a bird dropping only it was red and I knew instinctively it was blood. I looked up.

Attached to the raised garage door was a man who had been beaten, almost professionally so. After whatever happened to him he’d been strapped to the door and then automatically rolled up. Gagged and probably out cold, he would have stayed there until someone came back for him or he died and the body was retrieved to be disposed of. For all that I’d seen kinky sex involving blood and bondage, this was no sex scene, this was a crime scene. Automatically I found the button to lower the door; Seconds later I was trying to untie the straps, loosen the buckles, take as much pressure off him as was possible. Again, knowing something about rough sexual play, I knew that to loosen the ties too quickly could cause nerve damage, it takes time for your limbs to have muscles coordinate so they can move, nerves to get back to functioning properly so I just loosened things to the point that they made a hammock for him to lay in. He was breathing steadily; I took a pulse although knowing that he had one, other than he was alive, wouldn’t do me much good.

He flinched when I touched him, a sure sign of a beating given to someone by another with the purpose of hurting them. But not killing them, not yet at any rate, the way he’d been strapped and-it was damn clever-put in the overhead door all said this was not just a crime, but part of a major crime. To which my internal reaction was, “Shit, just what I don’t need” and at the same time realized that I could do without AAA who might have some good questions to which I’d have no great answers for then they’d call the cops who would have even better questions and my answers were already in diminishing return land.

On instinct I got some water from a cooler, tried to see if it could be dribbled into his lips and his eyes, while they fluttered, couldn’t seem to open. There were some clean shop towels, wetted, I wiped his face, hands, whatever flesh was exposed. Both eyes were deeply bruised, far beyond the “traditional” black eye. I worried that some of the upper ocular bone might be broken, hell, for that I worried that lots of bones might be broken which was another argument for leaving him as he was. Also who to call….I was too close to crime myself to be comfortable calling anyone and in no position to do much about this situation. So I just knelt there and hoped the damp cloths would help revive him and tried to clean him up a bit.

Hard to judge his age, young certainly but between the bruises and contusions about all I could tell was that he was probably over twenty and under forty. That’s when I remembered to check his body for identification, Now that I knew where I was, if some of his numbers seemed to match then I knew we were dealing with something local; Also, as it was looking substantially more serious, I took a moment to retrieve my gun from my car. Normally when I’m driving as I had been, I just use the open carry law but now that circumstances had been very altered, I got my holster from my bag, stuck the gun in it put it around my shoulder and, just in case, pulled out a snub nose and dropped it in my pocket.

There was no sound other than birds high up in the bay, very infrequently, cars going by on the road; I hoped that, because the doors to the highway were now closed, if anyone made an approach, I’d hear them. About then I noticed the large first aid kit that was on the wall per DOT regulations. Probably wasn’t much I could use but there would at least be some antiseptic cream some bandages, and, since this was a good sized industrial one, who knew what else. I set up a sort of triage around my guy by closing and locking the door to the main office. That made the only way in was through the back bay doors; It just took a moment to close the one furthest from me. One last job for my car was to bring it around back, pull it in as well so that, if you were passing, or going by to see if there was any activity, it wouldn’t be obvious. You’d notice the door was down but with a body attached, that could have happened just due to weight-of course if you’re just driving by the thought of a body strapped to a roll down door doesn’t occur to you. One way or another, if anyone wandered by, I’d know it almost as soon as they knew it. Clearly no one would pull up for service as there was none to be had

I opened the kit and found some things like bandages, band aids, an ace bandage or two, some astringents which I could use, pair of scissors, and, happily, some smelling salts. Immediately broke the glass ampule and held it under his nose. There was a noise that didn’t sound good but didn’t sound like a death rattle, he tried to open his mouth but only a tooth fell out…I couldn’t tell if his eye or eyes were trying to open but, to do so, they were going to have to fight a helluva lot of swelling. It was time to begin to check for consciousness and the only way was to start asking questions like…his name…what happened-although that was pretty obvious although why was not. On the first round there was no response so I tried to wipe his lips then dribble some water in, someone had told me to look for the swallow reflex… there was one. That was good.

I just kept talking, told him my name, where I was from, how I happened to stop, remembered the name of the family where I’d stayed the night before, tried to ask him questions, kept the water going into him…hoped he was doing better. I had nothing to make him comfortable, first aid kits in commercial places can’t legally have anything for the relieve of pain and, from just what I could see, he hurt every where. I felt like the line, “I’m not a doctor but I play one on TV” as I tried to palpate him to see if I could find green stick breaks or obvious problems. Opened his shirt to check for knife wounds, tried to find where the blood had come from but finally decided it was his mouth, the abandoned tooth would have left a socket which would bleed. One thing that was on his side, he was sturdily built, no fat and seemed to be in pretty good shape. From what I could see, his biceps filled his shirt sleeve and his chest was nicely formed under a T shirt; His good health and great condition were helping him more than I could.

His information was less helpful. He had a commercial driver’s license that listed his name, James McCorkel, his home address, his city, Dayton, Virginia, age, social security number, some CDL information but that was it. No credit cards, some affinity cards for things in Virginia, slips with addresses, also in Virginia, beyond that…nothing. No cash-that wasn’t a surprize-I couldn’t find a cell phone on him although I suspected that it would have been removed; No one leaves a beaten body with some way to call for help. And, to my somewhat knowledgeable criminal mind, my best guess said that he’d been left up there to be collected later and later didn’t mean too long, probably today, likely after it got dark. The standard reason for this is the usual “a drug deal gone wrong”. I was willing to run with that except if that were the case, whoever he tried to fuck over, if that was the situation, wouldn’t have bothered to come back for him; He’d be dead now. The simple deduction was that he knew something and hadn’t spilled it or they needed him as a guide to someone or someplace.

There were some other possibilities but based on what I knew, those were the top choices. Which also meant I had to make some decisions and pronto. The easy one was to call the cops, 911 works from anywhere, then tell them where I was, the problem, wait for them to show up. There would be questions as to why I’d not called sooner but, it was the truth, I could easily say I didn’t know what I’d walked into, was stuck with a bum car when I found a body that wasn’t improving. Eventually they’d buy it and, blind luck, I had the name and place of the nice people who’d had me as their guest last evening so from where it was to where I was now-I even had a receipt from the truck stop, the last place I’d gassed up- pretty much ruled out I was anything other than the person who found the scene of the crime. On the other hand, I could be assured that they’d-politely-ask me to stick around for a day or so, at least until they could figure out just what had happened. Somewhere in all this it was just, only just, but possible, they might get on to me and my real business which they then would enjoy giving it to the news media which would have two stories. The latter of which would probably put me in prison for a long time. I looked at my watch, gave myself an hour to see if I could rouse him, find something out and then make a decision.

There was another problem, transportation. I’d pulled in with a dying car and it’s condition hadn’t improved, the journey from front to back could easily be it’s last trip until some professional attention was paid to it. Looking at large green machines that said, “John Deere” didn’t offer any help but when you’re around the corner from trouble, you go looking for whatever you can find. I put wet shop towels on him,, set one to drip in his mouth and began another look around. And got lucky. Behind one of the larger machines was a reasonably new Ford pick up, keys in it. That didn’t surprize me as in the country security concerns ran low. I hopped in, started it up, noted that it had a full tank of gas, not that it mattered, that it was a crew cab which meant the back seat could be used as a sort of couch or bed, something to put Mr. McCorkel on if that seemed the route to take.

While I was out in the yard, I grabbed some things-any thing with any identification-from my car, put them in the truck-figured I’d come back for whatever was left then pulled the truck around into the bay, facing out, as I knew to do, for a quick exit if necessary.

My patient was showing signs of life. He had one towel in his hand and was trying to mop where it probably hurt. I knelt beside him, didn’t touch him, but spoke to see if my voice was somewhere in his memory banks. Without waiting for an answer I explained that I’d found him, let the door down and was trying to revive him, looked at his wallet, knew who he was, also knew that to my eye, he was probably in trouble. Gave him my name, tried to calm him then asked questions. What I really needed to know was how much trouble he/I was in? If he expected anyone to come back. I didn’t get any answers right away, you could see he was thinking about what he heard and concurrently was trying to see if his mouth was work. Thus far, no. Plan B consisted of my asking him questions and telling him to nod as best he could yes or no…I could sense the reservation, clearly, he wasn’t used to hanging around with a group of boy scouts therefore wasn’t prepared to be as honest as, just now, I needed him to be. So I

went back to basics.

On an abstraction of what is done in Emergency Rooms, I told him the answers to the questions they would normally ask. I told him his name, that I’d got it from his driver’s license, the legal address, that the had a Commercial license, finding him trussed up and stuck on the inside of a door that was up pretty much convinced me this wasn’t a stunt pulled by kids. I didn’t know what kind of trouble he was in but I was damn sure he was in trouble which left him with two choices, trust me and tell me what the fuck is going on or I could leave him tied up, walk out eventually to read what might have happened to him in the papers. I told him the time, I knew how these things worked, and I did, he had until maybe an hour before sundown to make a decision. In my experience, if you leave someone like that it’s either for them to decide to play along or as a lure to catch someone else. Whoever did their shooting-or however they disposed of unwanted bodies-wasn’t around but would be later in the day.

Whatever I said struck some nerves as I could tell he was trying to move his jaw-a painful thing to have to do-to tell me something. He also opened part of one eye which wasn’t the prettiest sight I’d seen that day. Generally eyes come in some basic colors but what his was…. I couldn’t tell you. By looking closely I could see an Iris but it was surrounded by varying shades of mauve, red and a disturbing mucous color that would have been okay in an Opal but in an eye, no.

“Hurt” was his first word and his second was “cut”. Okay, that was news, so I asked him where, I hadn’t found anything but then I hadn’t done a full body search either. “toes” was my clue so, carefully, I eased off his work boot and found, yep, someone had cut off the little toe on both feet. They were suppurating but, fighting the urge to vomit, I got the First Aid box, cleaned them, dressed them as best I could and, while I was doing that realized that this was a gang hit. Knowing that wasn’t the best news I’d figured out but it did narrow my options; Somehow I was going to have to get him up and into the pick up then away from here and reasonably soon. Working on his toes seem to give him some relief from pain and it had also provided him with time to get his mouth more able to speak.

“Gotta get out. Coming back tonight”, well, my guesses were right. “Cut me down?” Slowly I began to hack through the not very professional binding of rope, duct tape, electrical tape and whatever else they’d used being grateful that, unlike some of my clients who are into bondage, no one had used chain with locks. As best I could I released him in such a way that he slowly eased on to the paved floor rather than just a sudden thud. Once I had him loose, it was a bit easier as he could help me. He’d been professionally beaten which meant that he had deep tissue bruising and was in a lot of pain, the sort of pain that laughs at aspirin. Now that I knew he wasn’t on the ragged edge of death, I hauled out a bottle of Hydrocodone that I took for a spot of Arthritis and gave him a couple. It would take at least thirty minutes to have any effect and as badly banged up as he was, I couldn’t be sure how much good it would even do. Still, it was pain suppressant and he had a lot of pain to suppress.

“Can you sit up?”

“Maybe, if you’ll help. Get one arm behind me and….” his instructions ended in a wave of pain and cursing. But he was up, finally, and I could lean him against the door. Giving him the shop towels as well as a bowl of cold water I let him take over that duty. “In my truck….” and another wave of pain went over him…” McDonalds bag, maybe thrown in the back…” So now I knew who’s truck I had found. “there’d be loaded syringes of morphine….I’m a Vet, got my leg half busted in the sand box…” While he had another round of being overwhelmed with pain I found the bag and, he got lucky, no one had found his stash. I brought the bag and asked him how many? He held up two fingers, his jaw was clenched shut in agony. So two it was. (I noted there were at least two dozen more plus some empties and a box that suggested in it there was more; Clearly he was on very good terms with a pharmacist somewhere.)

Not bothering with the niceties, I went straight into his bicep with one then went through his pants leg to catch the fleshy part of the thigh with the other. Generally morphine works better as a hot shot but I didn’t have time to find a vein then make sure it closed after I’d filled him up. Also, after the beating he’d had, I could have found a vein that was damaged and might collapse. We sat for a few minutes. “Better, oh holy Jesus better. Thanks mister, yer pret near savin’ my life.”

“Yeah, well, look around, we’re still in a garage-this where they worked you over?-and we need to be elsewhere pretty quick. Your truck? (which was both dumb and redundant as he’d told it was his and where the drugs were…), anyway it had the keys in in and it’s ready to go. I’ll try and get you up but we’re gonna take it slow.” Even his fingers had been beaten, probably with a gun butt, that’s what I would have done, so he wasn’t going to be much good in holding on while we moved.

I looked back at the truck. Suddenly I realized getting him loaded up was going to be easy, now that he was a passenger and somewhat loaded on drugs, I could roll the door up and pull right up to it. Only in reverse. I’d move the truck and then open the door and get him in the back seat. And then we’d be off. That was my plan anyway. I ran it by him and apart from an obvious anxiety to get the duck out of fodge, he had no objections. Not that it would have mattered.

His truck, when driven, was obviously one that had a little more under the hood than Ford had put there as original equipment. Just touching the gas gave you a spurt ahead that, if there’d been anything to hit, I’d have hit it. It was comforting to know that if any sort of chase was involved, I wasn’t going to lose due to lack of horse power. As I’ve mentioned, I know zip about the internal combustion engine but I do recognize things that go fast that were meant to do so and this was. Before I moved it out front, I went back to friend McCorkel, made sure he was ready to roll. As soon as I had the truck in front of the door, I was going to sprint inside, raise the door and then as best I could help him get in the back seat and lay down. However, his plan was to sit in the passenger’s seat to ride shotgun and look out. As he pointed out, he knew what potentially to look for; I didn’t. He gave himself another boost of morphine which probably would make him woozy but, as I thought about it, the back seat wasn’t long enough to lay on.

It went faster than I thought. Got the truck out front, the door open, him loaded and we were on the road in under two minutes. Just to avoid getting stopped for seat belts I insisted we put them both on although it must have hurt him like hell to have the pain of the compression.

Time to mount up and get moving. Not having small change and needing a drink, I shot the Coke Machine open. Why not? took one for now, one for my new buddy and several more for the road. McCorkel was trying to be helpful but his prime task needed to be walking to the truck and getting in it without falling down too many times. There was a duffel bag on the floor which I converted into luggage, snagged the first aid kit, more cans of soda and, after “opening” another vending machine, a selection of peanut butter crackers, Oreos in four packs, some unknown things in silvery packages that might-or might not- be edible and pronounced us ready to go on our picnic. As I passed them I picked up several rolls of blue disposable shop towels against the moment that my traveling companion might choose to bleed, vomit or drool from an overdose.

My time driving a pickup could be measured in seconds-when I’d moved this one from back to front- but, fortunately, the tough truck people at Ford had realized that the city slicker who bought one would prefer an upgraded interior, enough stereo music to deafen a herd of Wildebeests if you happened to pass a herd of Wildebeests, and enough electronic gimcrackery to keep the youth of today happy. Just as an after thought there was automatic shifting, a brake, a gas pedal plus some other bits and pieces that I recognized as standard equipment. Being that high off the ground from a vision standpoint was a little perplexing; I hoped I wouldn’t meet the nicest people on a Honda as they were swept under the grill. In short, we were ready to roll.

I got him maneuvered in to the passenger seat; Probably hurt when I latched down his seat belt but the last thing I wanted was to get stopped on a technicality such as not wearing seat belts. Lowering my shades to “drive” position, I touched the gas and we were off.

The road was mercifully empty so as I started back down the path just driven I could do things like adjust the rear view mirror which is what I was doing when I saw in it what looked like the recreation of the bombing of Hiroshima, complete with an angry orange mushroom shaped cloud. About a second after that, light traveling faster than sound, we were hit with the mutherfucking father and mother of a Kaboom plus Whompf that, without my touching the gas moved us fifty feet down the road. McCorkel was suddenly more alert than he had been up to now.

“Shit, I didn’ believe ’em about the explosives….” was all he had time to say as, just then, there was a loud, metallic, clanking noise from the bed of the truck that caused all the hydraulic systems to compress and then bounce the vehicle three feet off the ground. When we landed, I stopped: The latest addition to our traveling party was a large, green piece of somewhat twisted metal that had parts of “John Deere” stenciled on it. If ever there was moment to pause and reconsider, this was it.

I looked at McCorkel in the same way the first person will when meeting Martians on their home turf. “What explosives????” I screeched although the initial sound wave was beyond us. “What….?” To be fair, he looked stunned-although since our recent acquaintance, “stunned” was one of his few expressions other than excruciating pain and the look that comes over you as better living through chemistry turns night to day, pain to pleasure and humans to consumers.

“They said theys a bag a explosives and iffen I didn’ shut up, they’d blow me an’ it back to Virginny.” I just stared at him. “But…..I never done seen it. No, sir, never did so I just thought it were a pack a lies…”

“Like the lies that they were going to cut off some of your toes? That kind of lie?” It seemed a good moment to teach him how to give a suck job to a fifty caliber so I stuck mine in his mouth. “Motherfucker, they cut people’s toes off so they can’t run, they’ll stay pretty much in one place, not go AWOL. Get it? You’re missing two toes, one on each side, I found you strapped up and attached to a garage door on the ceiling, probably about over where whatever it was that was going to blow up would do so. And it did. Now, take a good suck on that barrel and remember you’re living because some guy too stupid to walk away from what he knew to be a bad situation interfered and caused you to continue to live. Now suck while I try to restrain from pulling the trigger.” I’d stuck my piece in a little too hard and, as I pulled it out, two more teeth followed it. “Sorry ’bout that.”

We sat there for a few moments, amused as lighter parts of the station, out building, pumps and, of course, John Deere equipment, dropped around us. The windshield almost broke but it was made of sturdier stuff and whatever bounced off it dented the hood and then fell away.

“Mister, am I in trouble?”

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13 May 1972 and yesterday had been a busy day for me [Mr C’s Friends: Gerold, Nick and Toni], working a full 8-hour day, 12:00 to 8:00 pm at Mr. Collier’s photo studio followed by a drinks-and-dicks party with Gerold, Mr. Collier, Nick, Toni and of course me, happily servicing all of them, one or two at a time from 9:00 pm to 01:00 am. The garnish for the day was Uncle Mitch rubbing his cock against my lips after he thought I was asleep.

Or [sigh] me dreaming he had done that. In the light of Sunday morning it made more sense as a liquor-fueled dream than as my straight uncle trying to get a drunken blowjob out of me.

I told him, sort of, about the dream [okay I told him I’d dreamed he was standing over me, naked and aroused, leaving out the sex part], and he’d laughed and said he’d fallen asleep on the living room couch after I’d gone up to bed.

I went along with it and he told me his boss was coming by for breakfast at 9:00. It was 8:45. I said I’d get a shower. He said to not worry about it, so I settled on a quick hot rinse and mouth wash and changing from my briefs to my pajama bottoms

I was coming downstairs when the doorbell rang. I said I’d get it and opened the door to a short [5-foot-6], stocky man of early forty some years with a trimmed moustache and short slicked back black hair. He was dressed casually in jeans, sneakers and a print bowling shirt. He had three rings on each hand and a pair of sunglasses in his left hand. He stuck out his right hand, smiling “You must be Val. I’m Leo Drake, your uncle’s boss.”

I shook hands and told him to follow me into the kitchen.

We engaged in small talk over breakfast, much of it about my school and plans for the future. We finished around 10:00 and I told Uncle Mitch I was going to catch a movie at noon. Mr. Drake suggested we all go, and he’d treat. That was fine with me, so we left at 12:15 to see what I don’t remember beyond it being a horror movie.

Mr. Drake wanted balcony seating, so up we went to the second or third row from the back of the balcony. There were probably thirty to fifty other people, mostly teens, and all of them were in the house.

Around halfway into the movie, Mr Drake touched my thigh.

He kept his hand there for a few minutes and, when I didn’t protest [I was surprised first and then not sure what to do, he being my uncle’s boss], he ran his hand down to my knee and back up to my thigh.

Now what?! If I responded positively, he might take offense and if I responded negatively [the furthest thing from my mind] he would surely take offence. So, I did the safe thing: nothing.

And he groped me. Blatantly.

I turned and looked at him and spread my legs. He ran his hand over my cock and balls, down my thigh and back up to my cock. I raised my hips a little, pressing into his hand and took a quick glance at Uncle Mitch.

Uncle Mitch was watching.

Which meant a lot of the things he’d been doing to me, that I’d been writing off as innocent, were probably anything but. No time to deal with that just now, though.

I relaxed a little and enjoyed Mr. Drake’s attention. He kept fondling and groping, not speeding up even as my dick throbbed to full erection. I kept stealing glances at Uncle Mitch and every time I did I caught him watching Mr Drake’s hand.

After the movie, Uncle Mitch suggested a drink or two. Mr. Drake agreed and we went to a small, dark bar that looked like a neighborhood bar. There were maybe twenty-five people, mostly middle age and older.

I excused myself to go to the restroom. I’d opened my jeans and managed to get my dick down enough to piss and was about to zip up when Mr Drake entered.

He stepped up beside me, “Did you enjoy it?” I said that I had, very much and he patted my ass, “So did I. So did I.” He left and I washed my hands and exited.

We had a couple of drinks each and got home about four. Uncle Mitch asked Mr. Drake if he’d like to stay for dinner. Mr. Drake demurred, “My wife is expecting me home by five. But another time,” he looked at me, “soon.” and left. And came right back in as the phone rang.

Uncle Mitch answered and said it was “…a Mr. Weiss?” I said it was the club and took the phone.

Mr. Drake told Uncle Mitch he had a couple more things he’d forgotten, and they went back into the Den after uncle told me he’d see me later.

Joseph asked if I could do dinner and drinks at six tonight, VIPs. I told him I could be ready in half an hour. He said “Good. I’ll be there at five fifteen. Slacks, good shirt, briefs.”. And he hung up.

I told Uncle Mitch that Mr. Collier suggested next Friday would be good for a camping trip. I’d almost forgotten about that.

I showered, shaved and cleaned my mouth, sprayed on deodorant and got dressed in black briefs, cobalt blue slacks, an aqua blue shirt, black socks and dress shoes. Joseph arrived at 5:30 and Uncle Mitch sent him up after calling up to me to assure it was okay.

Joseph told me I looked great but had a couple of changes. He handed me the pink silk shirt he had laying over his forearm. I swapped shirts and started to tuck the pink one into my slacks, but he stopped me, “Let it hang out, it’s designed that way. No tie or jacket. Have you done poppers?” I said I had once and he nodded, “Good.”

We left at five forty and, after we got rolling, Mr Weiss glanced at his watch and muttered, ” We’ll be a few minutes late. Don’t apologize unless one of them brings it up. Noguchi-san will be there, get used to calling him that. The other two men are from our England and West Germany venues.”

We arrived at Garcon Sensuel at 6:15 and the British man made a point of checking his watch. Joseph apologized and told them we’d hit some traffic. Mr. Noguchi told Joseph to sit on his left side and told me to sit on his right, between him and the British man.

We ordered [Noguchi-san pointed me to the filet mignon and ordered a Black Russian for me when the cocktail waiter came around] then Noguchi-san made introductions all around. The British man was introduced as “Mr. Thames” and the German as “Herr von Koln”. The names were obviously made up, but for now they would do. Mr. Thames was mid-fifties, 6’4″, slim [about 180] with a slight potbelly. He had short graying blonde hair, light body hair with a shaved chest, and an eight-inch slim cock. Herr von Koln was late 30s, had short blonde hair, 6 feet tall, 190, with a fit, toned body, light hair, including chest hair, an 8.5 to 9-inch cock, average thickness and large, heavy, shaved balls.

As to the reason for the engagement, the two had been part of a quarterly meeting of all owners with the president and the chief executive officer. The rest of the owners had left. Thames and von Koln had been specifically invited to meet me because they were old buddies with Noguchi-san and were, along with Noguchi-san, the most long-term franchise owners.

I asked if they were sending me overseas and Noguchi-san laughed, “No no, you are my pretty boy, Val. I might loan you out some time when you have more time with us.”

Dinner was served at 7:00 and we engaged in small talk while we ate. Most of the conversation with me covered school and plans for college. Sometimes the men would talk in Japanese for a few minutes, one or all of them looking at me. And they seriously kept the liquor flowing. I was on my third Black Russian when dessert was served, and they were pouring the vodka heavy. The strong coffee sobered me a little, but I was still a bit inebriated when we moved from the dining room to the lounge.

The lounge was the size of a medium sized bar, with a dance floor for twenty people. There were about 25 men here tonight. Once we’d been seated, Mr. Thames, Herr von Köln and Noguchi-san spoke in Japanese for a few minutes, after which Mr Thames turned to me and asked, “Are you wearing pants?”

Joseph immediately jumped in, “Americans refer to outerwear as pants. He is wearing briefs. My apologies for interrupting, but I thought it might be faster.” Mr. Thames laughed it off and thanked Joseph for the “translation”.

He turned to me, “Stand and remove your slacks, please.”

Mr. Weiss helped me get them off. The shirt came down past my briefs, though the pink silk was easy to see through. The feel of it, of both the silk itself and of the shirt ending just barely covering my ass and my groin, cock and balls turned me on and turned up the heat. My cock throbbed to a full, straining erection.

Mr. Thames removed his jacket and waved me over. I joined him and he walked me to the dance area. He put a jazz song on the jukebox and told me, “Just follow my lead”. We just slow danced around and about a minute in he pulled the back of my briefs down, which got some applause and one “Oh baby,” which got a few chuckles.

The next song, a little faster paced, came on. Mr. Thames took a bottle of Rush and clean handkerchief out, dampened the handkerchief with the Rush and held it over my nose and mouth, “Breathe deep.”

And WOW! I felt a rush of pure sexuality. My cock throbbed. I pressed back against him and he gave me another whiff. He asked if anyone wanted to take my briefs down.

A few men raised their hands. Mr. Thames added “Just remove them and give them to me. No touching anything else…yet”. A couple of hands went down. He waved a forty some man [Gary] up. I stretched and wiggled slowly against Mr. Thames. Gary slowly pulled my briefs down. My cock sprang up and I swayed my hips. The rest of our group joined us and Mr Weiss gave the briefs to the bartender [I’d find out later they’d been auctioned off]. Mr. Weiss took my slacks and Mr Thames’ jacket and Noguchi-san led us upstairs and took us into a room at the end of the corridor labeled Management Only’. He flipped a card on the knob to ‘In Use’ and ushered us in.

The room was set up for use as an office, with an executive desk and chair, two chairs beside the desk, one on either side, a large sofa, a midsized couch, bookshelves with erotic male figurines scattered around the books , a bowl of condoms and several jars of lube, several liquor decanters and a half dozen glasses, a few closed cabinets and a coatrack. The flooring was parquet tiling

Mr. Thames unbuttoned my shirt and took it carefully off me, “Does anyone object if I go first?” I squirmed against him. I didn’t really care who or how many started first, as long as they started. He covered my nose and mouth with the handkerchief, “Deep breath.”

He maneuvered me to the floor and opened his slacks and shoved them and his shorts down. Mr. Weiss gave him a lube jar. My cock throbbed and jerked as he lubed and stretched my hole, and I moaned out loud and leaked precum as he shoved his eight-inch cock into me, gave me a few seconds, then started pumping steadily.

Noguchi-san stripped and glanced at me then said to Herr von Köln, “Four, five, I don’t know, maybe a dozen! Pretty boy love to suck and fuck all the time”.

Mr. Thames fucked me faster, reaching under me and caressing my chest and pinching my nipples for a few minutes. Noguchi-san patted my head, “Go-go pretty boy”! Mr. Thames fondled my balls, gave my cock a hard squeeze, then continued fucking and caressing and slapping my ass. Twelve guys? Maybe not but I’d be willing to try, the way I was feeling tonight

Mr. Thames grasped my hips and sped up. Noguchi-san poured drinks for himself, Herr von Köln and Mr Weiss.

Mr. Thames grasped my shoulders, fucking me in short, hard strokes. “Oh yes he’s a fine boy…lovely…a lovely, slutty lad…damn….fucking Hell yes!” He stopped and a second…two and he grunted and filled me with cum.

Herr von Köln stripped. I sat up, staring at his cock as he stroked it to its full nine-inch length. Mr. Weiss handed Herr von Köln a rocks glass he’d filled with two shots of vodka.

Noguchi-san spoke in Japanese to Mr Weiss, who nodded several times, then stripped.

Herr von Köln brushed at my hair, “Head back and open your mouth”. He twirled the glass, smiling, and I obeyed. He poured the vodka slowly down my throat. I managed to swallow most of it, for which I was applauded. Herr von Köln put the glass on the desk and pulled me up and turned me around, ass to him. He lubed his cock, wrapped one arm around me and slowly pushed the head up into my ass. I put my hand on his and moved it to my cock. He squeezed my cock and thrust his all the way into my hole.

The three others talked in Japanese, sometimes laughing softly and sometimes dropping some English [“sexy, gangu-bang, pretty boy, sexy honey” and such].

Herr von Köln fucked me at a quick pace, stroking my cock slowly. The latter was to little avail; less than five minutes after he started, I shot a huge load. He wiped his hand on my belly, moved me to the floor and withdrew long enough to get me onto my back.

He pushed my thighs up to my belly and shoved his cock up my ass and started fucking me hard and fast. He continued for about five minutes then helped me roll over to my belly. He spread my legs wide, stretched my asshole, and went back to fucking me.

Mr Thames asked, “When does he start?” Noguchi-san told him, “June twenty and twenty-second, second shift as a red panty boy. I anticipate moving him up to evening quickly”.

Herr von Köln grunted and huffed and started cumming, then withdrew and shot the rest between my ass cheeks. “Such a shame we are short of time tonight.”. He ran his fingers along my ass, then patted it and joined the others.

Noguchi-san smiled, “We have time for seconds, but not for indulging yourself. But I will work on something”. He drank. “Come along, Mr. Weiss”.

He brushed my hair, “Another drink?”. I was drunk, period. And I was about to get spitroasted, I nodded. Mr. Thames poured the double and brought it over. I put it on the desk.

Noguchi-san got me to hands and knees. He ran his hands over my ass, spread my ass cheeks and moved behind me, then carefully entered me. He patted my ass, then shoved his cock all the way in and started fucking me.

Mr. Weiss pressed his seven-inch cock against my lips. I opened wide and, looking up at him, licked and sucked his cock as he pushed it into my mouth. He let me play with it for a few minutes, then took over, fucking my mouth in tandem with Noguchi-san fucking my ass.

Mr Thames massaged his cock casually, sipping his drink, “Do you ever get East Berliners, Manfred?”

Herr von Köln chuckled, “Are you kidding, Roger? Some of our best customers are the Soviets!”

Mr. Weiss gripped the back of my head, thrust his cock halfway into my mouth and shot his cumload into my mouth and throat. He withdrew and pushed my shoulders and head to the floor and held me down.

Noguchi-san fucked me faster, slapping my ass occasionally. He rode me for another ten minutes, then stopped and shot a small load into me.

We talked until ten, then Noguchi-san and Herr von Köln doubled me and Mr. Thames fucked me. Mr Weiss took me to the bathroom, where I showered and used mouthwash. When he brought me back the others had cleaned up in the executive washroom. While Mr Weiss cleaned up and dressed, Noguchi-san gave me a pair of red satin briefs and helped me dress.

We all went down to the lounge, where Mr Thames told me they’d auctioned my briefs. The high bidder got the briefs, an autograph and three minutes to “explore” me.

The winner was a Japanese man, around my height and stocky with a slight paunch. He had me sign the rear of the briefs “Bottom’s up, Hiroshi! xxx Pretty Boy 💋” then spent his three minutes taking my slacks and briefs down and feeling, fondling and slapping my ass, then massaging and stroking my cock to full erection. Finally he thanked me and took his prize back to his table and guests

Noguchi-san’s chauffeur drove me home, with Noguchi-san and Mr Weiss [the latter to provide directions].

They dropped me off at 11:30 or thereabouts, still inebriated but not so drunk as I had been half an hour before. Strong coffee and the air from the open car window had helped.

I got in and went to the living room, got as far as “I’m home uncle–” before I saw Mr Drake sitting beside Uncle Mitch. “Oh! Hi, Mr Drake.”

Both said hi and Uncle Mitch said, “Mr Drake…well, long story. Go ahead and switch to pajamas and come on back watch a movie with us.”

And that is another story…

Val 😉!

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A first time for everthing, BJ at an ABS

My first time with another male was at an adult book store. I was a 42 year old married white male. I had been out of town and very horny so I went into a video booth to check out some videos. As I surfed through the video selections I started checking out the bi and gay videos. I had been bi curious all my life but had never acted on it. As I settled in watching I pulled my cock out and started to stroke it. I heard the door to the booth next to me open which caused light to shine through a gloryhole. I heard my neighbor put several dollars into the machine and could see the flicering of the video light coming through the hole. I got curious as to whether or not he could see me and what I was doing so I peeked through. As I did, the most beautiful, uncut, black cock came through the hole and almost poked me in the eye. It was about 10 inches long and about 2 1/2 inches in diameter with a little taper on the head. The gloryhole was situated so that as I sat in a normal sitting position the cock was only about 6 inches in front of my mouth. I could smell the wonderful man scent and see the large veins as I marveled at this wonderful specimen.

I don’t know what came over me, but I had to touch it, lightly at first then I wrapped my hand around it. I could not believe how hard it was, how nice it felt in my hand. I started to stroke it just a bit at first, sliding the foreskin back and forth over the head. It was long enough to cover the head even while hard. My own cock is about 7 inches but looked so tiny in comparison. After only a minute or so I’m not sure what came over me but I leaned forward and touched my tongue to the head. I just had to taste this magnificent piece of meat before me. It tasted as wonderful as it smelled. The next thing I knew I had the head in my mouth. I immediately thought I have to get out of here, but I could not stop. Once I heard my neighbor say, “Oh yeah that’s it, suck that black cock boy.” There was no turning back. I knew what I liked when my cock gets sucked so I tried to do that for my black trophy. He pulled back a bit and I followed trying to keep the head in my mouth. As my face got to the partition wall I was suddenly surprised as he pushed back through the hole and to the back of my mouth causing a brief gag. I suddenly recalled telling girlfriends and my wife, “Come on just open your throat, you can do it.” I almost started to laugh but even though It was my first time I was trying so hard to make it his best. I thought back to college days and drinking wine out of a bota bag, opening the throat and letting it flow straight down the neck.

I decided that I was going to go for it. So relaxing my throat as much as I could and trying to straighten out my neck as much as I could I attempted to take this wonderful cock, my first cock, into my virgin throat. I’d like to say it slipped right in but it did take several attempts and did eventually slide beyond my gag reflex. I guess when that happened my neighbor thought I was more experienced than I actually was. He began to get more vigorous and started throat fucking me. My head was spinning. My throat was aching but accommodating his thrusts. I have no idea how long it took but I could feel his cock tense up and I knew what was next. I started to pull off but then decided I didn’t come this far to stop so I kept sucking. I was rewarded with a load about 3 times what I can shoot on a good day. It was very thick and tasted wonderful. As soon as this beautiful black cock shot its load, my cock began to shoot all over the place without even touching it. That had never happened to me before.

I was so engrossed in what I had been doing I didn’t realize someone had gone into the booth on the other side of mine. He began to quietly cheer me on saying, “That’s it suck that cock.” At that point I think the whole world could have been watching, I was not stopping. I turned my attention briefly to the new neighbor, but heard the owner of the cock I had just sucked say, “That was a fantastic blowjob, the best I’ve had.” He then darted out the door.

The new neighbor had slid his cock through the gloryhole on his side hoping for some action but I was trying to get put together to get out and maybe meet the man that had just blessed me with such a wonderful experience. I was hoping that just maybe we could exchange numbers and hook up again, but he was gone.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed reliving it in words.