Author: admin

i used to do lots of traveling for work across Europe, and met many men in each major city. I’d been on gaydar.com when in Moscow, and began to chat with Igor. He was 37, 5’11, black hair, dark eyes, hairy chest, clean shaven. He definitely worked out, and his dick was at least 8”, and quite thick. Igor was married and to make some extra money, he did some escorting in the side.

After work we agreed to meet at my hotel down at the bar. I ordered a vodka and waited for Igor’s arrival. I’d almost finished the vodka when he walked over to me. We shook hands and I almost melted. His firm grip pulled me in, his smile was infectious, and his kind eyes won me over. He smelled wonderful. He wore tight dress pants and a white button down shirt with the top 2 buttons undone, showing off his chest. The sleeves hugged his arms nicely. As we drank vodka together, I was undressing him with my eyes. 

He spoke English rather well, which allowed us to communicate easily. We agreed to head up to my room for some fun. As soon as we were behind closed doors, Igor took charge and pulled me in for deep kiss. As we exchanged tongues, I unbuttoned his shirt and helped him take it off. I couldn’t wait to see this magnificent meat in all its glory. His chest was perfect. His pecs were covered in dark fur, and there was a trail of hair leading down to another patch of hair on his stomach. His nipples protruded out from his pecs the size of nickels. His biceps were thick and hard, and the dark patch of hair under his arms turned me on.

I began to move my mouth down Igor’s neck, and began to lick and kiss his pecs until my mouth suckled on his nipple, all the while rubbing my hands over this Russian stud’s body. I worked both nipples, flicking them with my tongue, lightly biting them. Then I kissed back up his pecs and raised his arm, and rubbed my face in his pit before tonguing them  clean, inhaling deeply to take in his musk. It was making me high, and making me want to worship him even more.

Igor was enjoying the attention I gave to his upper body, as he responded to my touches. We made out again and Igor helped me undo my shirt. He then returned the pleasure I had given to him, working both my nipples, and them he took my hand in his strong hand and lifted it up so he could get to my pit. Fuck, he was a great lover so far.

Next, Igor grabbed my ass as we made out and said in my ear, “do you want me to fuck you”? I said, “yes, please”.  I reached down to feel the erection growing in his pants, and undid his belt to remove them. When his pants fell to the floor, i discovered Igor flies commando. His cock stood straight out hard like a brick, his balls shaven. I took my pants and underwear as well.

Igor pushed me towards the bed and got me to lay flat on my back with a pillow behind my head. He grabbed my wrists and held them above me as he straddled my chest and his hard cock was at my lips. I opened my mouth wide as Igor entered. I looked up to see him looking down at me while his cock moved in and out of my mouth. Igor could see how much I was enjoying this. His closed his eyes and continued to slow fuck my face, and pushed his balks into my mouth. Eventually, he let go of my wrists and I reached up to grab his hairy tight ass and felt it flex as he pumped inside me.

With his cock fully coated with my spit, he moved back, grabbed my ankles, pushed them back and penetrated me. His cock felt so good inside of me. Igor leaned down to kiss me as we made love. I locked my legs around his torso and we began a perfect fuck rhythm. I hugged his body tightly. His chest on mine, as we continued this sensual experience. I’d never had such an experience with an escort before and I didn’t want it to end.

Igor pulled up and rolled me onto my stomach. With his chest to my back, he found my entrance and sank his cock inside me, all the while kissing the back of my neck and my ears. He reached below and found my nipples, gently twisting them as he dug deep into my hole. My cock grew very hard between my abs and the mattress, and I began to grind my hips so that the friction would stimulate me as I bucked up and tightened the grip on Igor’s cock. Igor kept playing my with nipples and allowed me to pleasure myself.

I began to pick up the pace until I shot my load on the mattress without touching myself. Igor bear hugged me and pumped his load deep inside me. He rested with his chest on my back, his head on my neck, and I felt his heart beat and pulse racing. We lay like this quietly for several minutes before Igor pulled his softening cock from my ass.

We kissed again, and Igor playfully smacked my butt before getting up to wash off in the bathroom and dress. Igor then said he had a wonderful time as I paid him for his services. As I was to be in Moscow for several more days, we met a second time. Igor initiated this second meet up it was free of charge, much to my surprise. 

I’d traveled to Moscow about 10 times in the 3 years I was working and living in Europe. Igor and I would get together a total of 5 times in that span. Each time was as good as the first time. If he makes love to his wife the same way he did to me, she’s a very lucky woman. 

Jason Jones is an Evangelical preacher. To look at him one would never guess his occupation. He is 31 years old, macho, and works out at a gym 4 days a week. He is handsome and has a six feet tall toned body. He and I are friends since childhood, and he knows that I am gay, but never brings the subject up. He asked me to write this on his behalf, since he was too embarrassed to do it himself.

As a teenager he felt the call to preach, and studied in some kind of seminary. He has a growing congregation, because he is out-going, makes friends easily, and is a great orator.  Strangely, every Sunday he rants to his congregation about the evils of being gay. He has convinced his adherents to hire a psychologist to cure gays. Two or three participants have declared that they are no long “afflicted” with this curse.

In our city there is a large, wooded park where homosexuals are known to gather for sex.  Jason had the bright? idea to take his bible to the park one starry night. He stood on a tree stump and read passages condemning homosexuality. But there was a minor discrepancy. Instead of wearing clothes befitting a minister of the gospel, Jason put on a tank top, and a very tight-fitting Bermuda shorts, that revealed the outline of a sizable prick.

Needless to say, he attracted a curious group to watch him. Several, while admiring his body, spat on the ground to show their contempt. But one courageous troll, as arrogant young faggots like to call them, went up to Jason and groped him. Jason’s prick began to grow, but he continued reading his bible as if nothing was happening.

Then his aggressor pulled down Jason’s shorts and out popped a beautiful prick, which he quickly swallowed. Jason, ignoring the action, continued reading his bible. Suddenly, whamo! Jason dropped his bible and grabbed his cocksucker’s head, forcing him to swallow Jason’s cock to the roots. Once again Jason felt the call, but this time to indulge in heavy sex. A small group gathered to watch the spectacle and applauded. When Jason shot his load, he grabbed his bible and fled the park.

Allow me to digress to explain Jason’s anti-gay syndrome. Don’t go away. There are several juicy sex scenes coming. I am not a psychologist, thus I don’t know if there is a technical term for Jason’s situation. But from my personal experience, I have gained insights into this aberration. This sub-group has tremendous difficulties in accepting their gayness. Their closets are huge. In this case, Jan required an entire church. There even exists a sub-group of teenage “toughs” who let gays blow them, then beat up the guy. They sometimes run in small packs. Why do they have such hatred toward gays? They are trying to expurgate their own gay stirrings, hoping to eliminate them in this way. But the effect is the opposite. Their gay sex desires only increase.

Continuing the narrative: Jason’s routine continued–Bible-thumping against gays in Sunday sermons and rendezvous in the park at least once a week. His church was only six blocks from the park. Naturally outgoing, Jason made “friends” with some of the park regulars, even revealing his name. He sometimes wandered around to watch the action, sometimes getting a blow job, but never took an active role, like sucking.

  A couple frequented the park together who hated Jason for his blatant hypocrisy. Let’s call them Brawny and Slim. They learned his name and hatched a plot. One night Brawny groped Jason, who obliged by taking out his prick. Brawny then unveiled his own hardening cock, forcing Jason to his knees and pushing his tool into Jason’s mouth. Needless to say, Jason got the chock of his life. He gagged, tears streamed from his eyes, and he tried to get Brawny’s cock out of his mouth. 

Then Slim, the other half of this mysterious couple, snapped a photo of Jason with his mouth stuffed with cock. Jason managed to disengage Brawny’s dick from his mouth, then turned to look at Slim with a terrified expression, thus presenting a full-front photo of his face. Brawny’a cock was dangling nearby Jason’s mouth, clearly visible in the photo. Immediately Slim started running down a path out of the park, before Jason could get up from his knees. Jason chased after him, but Slim was a faster runner. When Jason emerged from the park, Slim was nowhere to be seen. He had jumped into his car and hid his face behind a newspaper. Little did Jason know that this was the beginning of the end of this period of his life style.

Jason began walking briskly, almost running, back to his church, with Slim discreetly following in his car. Soon Jason got to the church and entered. Slim noted the name of the church—“Good Shepherd Evangelical Church.”

The next day Slim researched the internet and found the name of the church. The site listed Jason Jones as pastor. Researching further, he found the name of the lead deacon, Charles Woods. Slim knew better than to send an email, as Jason would see it. Instead he opted to send snail mail to deacon Woods.

Slim enclosed the incriminating photos in an envelope, in a folded sheet of paper. Writing “personal and confidential” on the outside of the envelope, Slim knew that Jason was too good a Christian boy to open the envelope. When the envelope arrived at the church, Woods opened it and was shocked by the photos. He ran into Jason’s quarters, and showed him the photos. Woods then commanded Jason, “You are dismissed from this church effective immediately. Pack up your stuff and get out of here as soon as possible.”

A symphony of emotions played across Jason’s face. They were a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and guilt. Jason was outed and turned out of the church simultaneously. He didn’t know what to do. He was without a job, and no place to live.  Fortunately he had saved a small nest egg, and with part of this he rented a dingy furnished studio apartment in a seedy part of town. He was barred from preaching and had no work experience. He could take a menial, low-paying job as a janitor, or night watchman, but these were not suited to his personality. He had the bright idea to take the civil service exam for the post office. On the exam Jason made a good mark and was called to start at the post office within a week. He was hired as a mail sorter. He wouldn’t be making a fortune, but would earn enough to survive until he could decide what to do with his future. While he admired his fellow male mail handlers, he decided to not suck where he sorted.

Strangely, Jason was happy. His dismissal had changed his life. He felt unburdened from his torture. He became a more frequent visitor to the park. He had to admit that having Brawny’s dick in his mouth was a pleasant experience. At the park, he began to suck cock, taking on all comers. He tried hard to learn how to suck well, and got a reputation as a superb cocksucker.

Jason became known as the park whore, and even earned the nickname of Fanny Hill. He started taking up the ass, and at one point got fucked and sucked a dick at the same time. Question: Was Slim sent as an angel to relieve Jason of his trials and tribulations?

[Thanks for reading. Do I deserve a good rating? – MM]

I dream of having sex with a skinhead. I like seeing a guy in bleachers. I imagine that the white spots are dried sperm residues. When a skinhead has a bat in his hand, it’s not to beat the hell out of you, but rather to give an indication of how hard and deep he can fuck a masculine hungry ass.

I will be honest and say, of the bat (lol), that I did not know much about skinheads until I saw a short video on Facebook showing two muscular guys following each other on the street, both with tight bulging bleachers. Holy fuck! I was hypnotized on the spot, salivating like a kid over a lollipop.

When most people think of skinheads, they have in mind the societal stereotype of hate mongers, bigots, and neo-Nazis. In general, the skinhead subculture seems to be characterized by aggressively masculine hair and dress styles, including shaved heads and heavy boots. In many countries skinheads are commonly viewed as extreme right-wing nationalists or neo-fascists who espouse anti-Semitic and other racist views. The reality is quite different.

A short stroll down History lane will set the record straight, so to speak. The skinhead movement originated around 1965 in the working-class neighborhoods of London, England. It was the reaction of working-class teenagers against the rising middle class and what they perceived as conservatism creeping into British society. They rejected the youthful counterculture movement—in particular its ethos of peace and love — and deliberately cultivated aspects of style and culture that were furthest removed from it.

Today, historians tend to regroup skinheads in four main categories: 1. Traditional Skinheads who reject all politics and labels; 2. Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice (SHARP); 3. White Power/National Socialist or racist neo-Nazi skinheads; 4. Red Anarchistic Skinheads (RASH) or communist skinheads. There are Gay Aryan Skinheads (GASH) in each of these four categories.

A short note on the dress code. The general “uniform” of the skinheads includes flight jackets, polo shirts, Levi 501s/tight jeans often bleached, steel-cap combat boots (Doc Martens, Gripfasts, and others), and either shaved head or close-cut hair.

On the musical side, the early skinhead subculture was originally associated with black music genres such as soul, ska, R&B, rocksteady and early reggae. The most popular music style among late-1970’s skinheads was 2 Tone, a fusion of ska, rocksteady, reggae, pop and punk rock.

Many skinheads also embraced Oi!, a working class punk subgenre that combines standard punk with elements of football chants, pub rock and British glam rock. Among some skinheads, heavy metal is popular; bands such as the Canadian act Blasphemy, whose guitarist is Black, has been known to popularize and merchandise the phrase “black metal skinheads”.

* * *

Enough of history. Let’s get into skinhead man-to-man pleasure! My nephew Jim likes to listen to heavy metal music while he’s surfing on the Pinterest site to admire pics of guys in bleachers. When he shares his taste with his gay uncle, I tell him that he should go one step further. I direct him to a site where he can meet skinheads and probably have fun. The start is dazzling.

Jim, 16, is invited to a skinhead’s place for an “initiation session”. Bob, 19, is already a master with a well-planned strategy. As soon as Jim walks in, he kisses him vigorously, and brushes his firm bulge on the young visitor’s crotch. He then directs him to the bathroom where he starts to shave my nephew’s hair. At each stroke of the razor, Jim’s cock expands.

They take place on the sofa and Bob sets to work. He sniffs the swollen cock in the white underwear, and starts to bite it, which triggers moans of pleasure and makes the hard rock dick burst out. Bob then seizes the baseball bat close by and warns his enthusiastic neophyte.

“You think your pistol is long and hard, kid, but let me tell you that mine is like this bat!”

“You’re my skinhead master, please initiate me to hard and deep virile fun!”

On that note, Bob positions himself for savage raw penetration. He barely spits on Jim’s hole or lubricates his own curved bazooka. Keeping his bleachers on, he shoves his powerful engine in the begging hole. Each pounding blow triggers cries of “Please, stop!” and “Please, keep destroying my virgin ass!”

Bob expels a first jet of cum in the dripping butt of his “student”, licks as much as possible, rolls over Jim and kisses him passionately, mixing saliva and sperm. He then sucks Jim’s cock, pumping the juice while squeezing the balls as if they were oranges. What he has in mind is getting more white spots on his bleachers. Jim doesn’t have to say a word, Bob is reading his mind.

He pulls the baseball bat, shoves the smaller end in the neophyte’s arse and the larger one in his own stretched hole. Bob and Jim gradually move in a pas de deux choreography while jerking off. To the sound of 2 Tone, they explode like a geyser. Jim collects the creamy reward, and Bob picks up his jeans to have them covered with the precious jizz. It will be a trademark of genuine skinhead virile fun.

* * *

Bob is not fond of labels. He doesn’t call himself a Skinhead Against Racial Prejudice (SHARP), but he knows how to appreciate a Black guy when he sees one in bleachers. He meets Brad, 23, at a beer party, they drink a few bottles, exchange a few words or coded messages, and leave the bar together, each caressing their bulging crotch.

Tall and dark like Usain Bolt, Brad is a Jamaican who definitely has a more muscular built than Bob. His perky ass may look like an amazing DRIVE-IN sign, but a 10-inch cock (25.5 cm) makes him a premium Top. His head is completely shaven, lips are thick and luscious. As soon as they are on their way to Bob’s apartment, Brad pulls him over and smacks a 40-second kiss. Bob reacts by sucking the tongue of his new Black partner. When other skinheads see this expression of non-racist masculinity, they energetically applaud.

Brad follows Bob to the bathroom. As they unzip to pee, his host suggests they have a golden shower instead. They undress, jump in the large shower area, kiss again, and start shooting their warm amber liquid on each other’s stomach, crotch, thighs and ass. They both seem to pour half a gallon (1.9 liters) of piss.

Once lying in bed, the Black and White skinheads cuddle, caress, kiss and tickle each other with frenzy. Bob imagines that he’s soon going to be fucked by a stallion, but Brad is sending a different signal. He’s offering his wide rump roast to be pounded. “I want your curved white rod in my black satanic haven. I want your one-eye trouser snake to tickle, press, and rub my walnut prostate. Put on your boots and fuck the hell out of me!”

Bob’s dick is obviously firm, but he had no idea that it could get even harder than usual. The size and sight of Brad’s ass cheeks is intoxicating. The split or groove between the buttocks seems to be yelling for help. Bob slides his weapon up and down the cleavage, as if he was giving a back massage. Brad’s moans encourage him to slap vigorously, to knock heavily on the back door.

The knob is anxious to penetrate, but Bob takes pleasure in poking the rosebud. He kisses, licks and sucks it with frenzy. Once it’s well lubricated, he plunges his curve dagger inside the black hole and starts pounding Brad as if he was hamburger meat or a punching ball. One thing is sure, he’s having a ball.

The black & white skin contrast is exhilarating. While shoving his stick in and out, Bob slaps the chocolate cheeks. He dreams of pouring chocolate milk inside Brad’s welcoming caboose. When the latter senses that Bob is on the verge of cumming, he yells “Explode your full load inside me, I will return as much as possible. We’re going to have a felching treat!” On that note, Bob creams his partner’s satanic haven, then positions himself to scoop his own nectar dripping from a black bowl. He loses no time to share it with Brad by French kissing.

It’s now the Black skinhead’s turn to get cock satisfaction. He’s ready to pound his bazooka in Bob’s… skull. A tongue tickling his cock, and a mouth sucking it obviously make him feel like a demon. Pounding a face makes him feel powerful; he has full control while reading the eyes and mind of his partner.

“My juice is boiling, babe, prepare yourself for a super load!”

Alex on the Prowl

Alex Holden didn’t drive up to Los Angeles that day. When he left his apartment and drove off in the red Corvette convertible, he went to his gym on University Avenue, on the edge of the gay district. His location pretty much determined what kind of man used the gym, and that was just fine with Alex. That’s why he’d opened his gym where he did. And on days when the fleet was in, he had extra business. The sailors could go to gyms on their ships, certainly, but they didn’t go to gyms just to exercise. At least the sailors who came into Alex’s gym when the fleet was in weren’t just interested in working their bodies. They were interested in being watched by other guys—guys who would admire the results of all their gym work—and they came to work other guys’ bodies—to fuck other guys and/or to be fucked by them.

Alex was sure to be at his gym when the fleet was in, standing there in the main gym, watching the young sailors come into the gym, gauging them and separating the tops from the bottoms in his mind. And he looked for the young bottoms, the ones who had been like Terry was when he was nineteen—young, blond, small and perfect of body, a dancer’s walk, a shy smile, a come-hither look, pleading for a cock, a tight ass, a plaintive cry as he was being worked. He wanted them to be men, though, not effeminate pansies. That was what was nice about this being a serious body-building gym. Mostly guys who were manly, even if bottoms, came in here. The pansies could be found more in Marion Bear Park or Swiss Park. Terry might be a bottom and a dancer, but he moved and acted like a man.

He moved about the room, talking to this guy and that. Picking and choosing. Spotting guys. Touching them. Checking them out and sounding them out. By 10:30, he’d picked out his choice. He was Seaman Apprentice Sean Lowell, off the USS Curtis Williams and not that long out of a cornfield in Kansas. He was young and naïve, but he was built, wasn’t a pansy, and had been fucked before, Alex was sure, and he wanted to be fucked again. He was just shy, not as forward as some of the men who had come into the gym. Some of them could tell that Alex was after male pussy and they were happy to accommodate him. Alex was good-looking and built, even if a little old for the young action guys, and they’d heard that he owned the place. He could give them some action, be grateful a young guy would give him a spin, and could offer free pass to the gym. What was not to like about that? Some of the other trainers even mentioned he drove a red Corvette and would give those he fucked a good ride—both physically and in his red Corvette.

But Alex wanted Seaman Apprentice Sean Lowell, because he was shy and inexperienced, and because he was so much like Terry had been when he was nineteen and came into Alex’s gym.

By 11:00, Alex was Sean’s spotter and trainer. He was showing the young man how to use the equipment best. Both of them were just in gym shorts. Alex was touching Sean and manipulating his body to show him the best way to use the equipment. Sean was panting and trembling and Alex could feel he’d gone hard. He made sure that Sean knew he’d gone hard too. He made sure that Sean understood that not all of the touching was just to help him with the equipment, and Sean, though panting and shuddering now and then, was not shrinking away from him.

At 11:20, Alex was standing close behind Sean, with a hand on his belly, presumably telling the young man where to breath from when using a taxing piece of equipment. Sean was trembling under him. Alex put his mouth to Sean’s ear and whispered, “You are a beautiful young man. Your body is so nice. You’ve toned yourself up perfectly. You didn’t come here just to exercise, did you? You came here to try to hook up—to be fucked, didn’t you?”

Sean’s answer was a low moan.

“You brought your toned body to me to be used by me, didn’t you? You came here to be fucked by me, didn’t you?” Alex cupped the young man’s chin with his free hand and brought his face around for a deep kiss. Sean didn’t resist or pull away. That was all the answer that Alex needed.

“We have private exercise rooms here,” Alex whispered in Sean’s ear when he released him from the kiss. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I have a private room, with exercise equipment and weights and everything where I can give you a private workout, put you through your paces. This isn’t going to be a quick fuck-and-go. I’m gonna use you long and hard—totally. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sean answered in a breathy voice.

“I like the sound of the ‘Sir’. I’m gonna tie you up and you’re gonna submit to me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sean could hardly get the words out, he was panting so hard.

At 11:35, Sean was strapped up to a weight bench in a private gym room and Alex was turning the lock on the door and pulling a blind down on the window in the door. Alex was on his back on the bench, his butt at the end of the bench. His wrists were strapped to a barbell above his head with enough weight on either side that he didn’t have a prayer of lifting the bar. His legs were spread and raised, with his ankles bound to two iron stands at either side of the bench. There was a small medicine ball stuffed under the small of his back, turning his pelvis up. He was biting into a rubber ball gag in his mouth, moaning softly and possibly just now trying—ineffectually and with added arousal—to voice some reticence at what was about to happen to him.

At 11:37, Alex was on his knees below the young man, eating his ass out, and Sean was huffing and puffing and writhing as much as he was able. The sounds being muffled by the ball gag seemed to be more insistent, but still ineffectual in influencing what Alex was doing.

At 11:45, Alex was fucking the shit out of Sean’s ass and slapping the young man’s ass cheeks red with the palm of his hand. To the extent he could Sean was thrusting back with his pelvis, showing that what he was getting was exactly what he wanted from Alex. The sounds through the ball gag were definitely those of engagement and passion.

At 11:52, Sean was writhing and making muffled pleading sounds through his gag. Alex wanted the sailor to have as good a time as he was having. He took the gag out of Sean’s mouth to check on whether he was expressing pain or anger or pleasure or passion. Sean was most of the way to passion and crying out, “Yes, yes, shit yes. Fuck, yes. Fuck me hard,” so he was having a good time. Alex slapped him on the butt cheek and continued pumping him.

At 12:12, Alex pulled out of Sean’s ass, ripped his condom off, and shot his load on the young man’s flat, heaving belly. Sean had come at 11:58 with Alex stroking his cock hard.

Sean was getting what he’d come to the gym to get, but maybe a bit rougher and more intense than he had imagined it would be. He professed to be happy with it when Alex was done, “But I think I’d like to go back to the ship now,” he said, even though his shore leave didn’t end until midnight. He clearly had been exhausted and lost his need for more carousing on shore.

He perked up when Alex said, “I’ll drive you back to the Alameda gate. I have a red Corvette convertible, parked just outside.”

“Gee, yes, that would be great,” Sean answered.

“It’s really too early for you to have to go back to the ship, though. And I’m sure you haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. How about we go to a bar I know over on University Avenue that serves the best burgers? My treat.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Alex scrounged around on a desk for paper and pen, wrote out a note, and gave it to Sean. “Get showered and wait for me at the entrance to the gym. Give this to the guy at reception, and he’ll zero out your entrance tab and give you an extra hundred—for the good time.”

“Gee thanks . . .”

It occurred to them both that, if Sean had heard Alex’s name, he’d forgotten it and that he hadn’t given a name to Alex.

“I’m Alex,” he said, feeling a little thrill of his earlier life when he’d anonymously spike a guy like he’d just done this young sailor and it would have been so casual that they hadn’t even exchanged names. “You know other guys as built and good lookin’ as you are on your ship who you think would give as good of a workout as you did me, feel free to tell them about my gym—and me—for their next shore leave. Here, you can take a handful of the gym’s cards.”

“I’m Sean. Thanks . . . Sir.” And, after taking the cards offered to him, Sean turned and was off to the shower.

Alex watched his tight little butt with mixed thoughts as the young sailor glided out of the room. It was great knowing that he’d split those delicious orbs with his cock, but it was also sad that the young man, hesitating, had called him sir rather than Alex after the master-slave session was over and Alex had offered a relationship on a different footing. The young man no doubt had retained the “sir” in recognition that Alex was old enough to be the sailor’s father.

1:30 p.m., Sean had just put away his third hamburger and his third beer. He was more relaxed and was chattering up a storm. Alex touched him on the forearm and then, when Sean didn’t back off, kissed him on the lips and felt up his crotch. They were in a gay bar, so no one seemed to take notice and Sean didn’t pull back from being felt up either.

“Have you ever been to a Turkish bathhouse?” Alex asked as a kiss chaser. He kept his hand on Sean’s basket. “We have a couple of good ones near here. All-guy places. A different experience. Something for you to remember when you’ve gone back on the ship.”

“What happened in the gym was something to remember,” Sean answered.

“Something to want again too?” Alex asked. “Maybe in the bathhouse? It’s a wall-to-wall fuck fest there.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Sean answered.

“Back in the gym, it seemed like you’d had enough for today. Recovered from that and wanting to go again?”

“Yeah, maybe again,” Sean repeated. He widened his stance under the table to allow Alex to get a firmer grip on his engorging cock through the material of the black trousers he had on under the khaki shirt. When Alex started pulling down his zipper, though, Sean balked a bit. “Umm. Any sailor could look over here. Could be someone from the Curtis Williams. I wouldn’t want—”

“I’ve got a room booked in a hotel nearby,” Alex murmured. He was getting horny again. “We could go at it there, just me and you, in private. Maybe have a special time of it. And then maybe broaden out at the bathhouse.”

“That Turkish bathhouse idea sounds interesting,” Sean countered.

“And maybe the hotel after that?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

2:15 p.m. Alex was sitting on a tile bench below the waterline and running around the inner rim of a pool in the Turkish bathhouse. Sean was sitting in his lap, skewered on his cock, facing him. Alex was holding the young man steady with hands gripping his waist, while Sean pushed off of the tile pool wall on either side of Alex’s torso with his feet, pulling himself on and off Alex’s cock.

3:30 p.m. Sean was on his back on the bed in room 206 of the Friendship Hotel, his arms drawn above his head and restrained by straps around his wrists and the brass slats of the headboard. Alex’s knees were pushed under the young man’s buttocks, and he was holding Sean’s legs spread and raised with hand holds under the young man’s knees. He was fucking Sean in long slides of his cock, and Sean was moaning and groaning for him. The bed was bucking backward and forward, the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall behind it.

5:30 p.m. Alex had given Sean a tour of San Diego in the red Corvette convertible. Sean asked to see the Marion Bear and Swiss parks for future reference, and Alex drove him there, and they sat in the car, fondling each other, and watching guys hook up. The Corvette now was parked in Shoreline Park, across the harbor from the naval base on the northern tip of the Coronado Peninsula. Alex said that Sean would want to see where the visiting ships were ported, and Sean agreed that that was a good idea. Right at the moment, though, Sean had his head in Alex’s lap, as the older man sat behind the wheel of the Corvette, and was giving Alex a blow job.

At 6:15 p.m., they were on Coronado Island, stopping off at a small steak house, where Alex was treating Sean to dinner before driving up into the parking area at the naval base’s Alameda Boulevard gate at 7:20 p.m., where they got out of the Corvette and Alex leaned against the hood of the sports car and waved a hobbling, but happy, Sean into the gate, ending Sean’s first shore leave in the Navy—and giving him quite a bit to think about.

Alex didn’t do this that often. He was serious about his commitment to Terry. But when the fleet was in . . . and when their sex life had once again gone stale . . . and when Alex wanted to think about Terry being nineteen again . . . and him being with a nineteen-year-old, fresh young man . . . holding him bound and completely under his control . . . and plowing his ass . . .

Getting Sean back to the base gate on Coronado Island put Alex in position, along with several other guys and gals in flash cars, a bevy of taxis, and the Navy buses that transported the less brave to various parts of the city, to be there for the evening release of serious shore leavers. Some sailors were held back to work on the ships during the day on Friday, but those who did leave late were given extended hours of shore leave. And some sailors preferred late release because that meant they could be in the city all night. These were the sailors Alex and other hopeful hookups standing by their sports cars in the parking area outside the Alameda gate were interested in. These guys wanted to party all night.

Alex had learned some time ago that all he had to do was wear a little leather draped on his muscular frame—something to make him appear a few years younger—lean against the hood of the red Corvette convertible, and have a riding crop in his hand, flicking it against his calf. When he did this, the right guys—the guys who knew they wanted it rough—would come to him and he could make his choice.

The chosen one who came to him at 7:42 p.m., Friday night, was Seaman Apprentice Mike Pastrol from off the USS Fitzgerald. They made eye contact as soon as the sailor came out of the gate, and Alex made sure Mike saw the riding crop and saw that he looked the young man up and down and gave him a tight smile.

Mike walked like a dancer as he crossed the open space between the gate and the parking lot, keeping his eyes on Alex like he was signaling to those coming out of the gate with him to back off. There were several men standing by their cars and ogling the sailors coming out of the gate. They tended to be split between older corporate types and bruisers. Alex had come as a bruiser. There were women on the prowl too, but the two preferences split off from each other right at the gate into the naval base.

As well as being a panther-like glider, rather than a plodder, Mike was obviously young, lithe, blond, and quite evidently knew how this worked. Stopping close in front of Alex, he gave a pointed look at the riding crop again, licked his lips with his tongue, and then lowered his head to look submissively at his feet. The impression that he gave was that if Alex had growled for him to go on his knees right there and suck him off, the sailor would do it.

Alex’s role was to take command from the get go, so there wasn’t much in the way of preliminaries. The honeypot would give out or he wouldn’t.

“How old are you?” Alex growled.

“Nineteen . . . Sir.”

Bingo. The last box to check on a substitute for Terry when they’d first hooked up. He was nineteen. The submissive “Sir” was an added bonus.

“How much do you want for the night? I’ve got a hotel room.”

“$200,” Mike came back with immediately. That told Alex the kid was a pro at it. A naïve guy wouldn’t have been able to come back with a number that quickly.

“You’ll be bound.”

“$250 then,”

“$150. And you’ll be used hard.”

“$225,” Mike came back with.

“$150 and breakfast and transportation. I have lots of choices when the fleet’s in. Get in the car.”

Mike got in the car.

On the bed in room 206 of the Friendship Hotel, they began with Mike riding cowboy on Alex’s cock in reverse. Alex had a dog collar on Mike’s throat with a long strap that Alex used to motion whether he wanted Mike to ride back and forth, up and down, or from side to side. Mike’s hands were bound at the wrist behind his back. Alex was slapping at the young man’s back and buttocks with the riding crop. The bed’s headboard was bouncing against the wall in whatever rhythm and intensity Alex set in the fuck, and, over the night, he tuned into that sound to gauge how steady the beat had been reached in an individual fuck.

They had both been keyed up from the initial greeting, so they both came quickly the first time. There was a period of rest, in which they both lay, stretched out on the bed, side by side, their backs propped up on the headboard, each slowly masturbating the other, with Alex taking a smoking break.

Even at rest, their bed was swaying gently because the bed in the room next to them now was going, its headboard rhythmically beating against the wall. Muffled sounds of sex were coming through the wall as well. It was that kind of hotel. The knowledge that someone—probably a sailor or a local male whore under a sailor, or two, as it sounded like there were more than two voices—was getting royally fucked on the other side of the wall kept Alex aroused. He’d already had a serious sex day, and, at his age, and although oversexed, he could feel that he was slowing down a bit in recovery.

The beat on the wall ceased for now. It was their turn. Alex crushed his cigarette out in an ashtray on the nightstand, swept up another condom, crowned himself, and growled, “Get on all fours. I’m gonna ride you into the sunset.”

And that’s what he did. Mike went on all fours, but Alex wanted the young man’s wrists tied to straps attached to the brass rungs of the headboard, so Mike actually wound up on his knees, with his rump waving in the air and flat on his chest, cheek to stained chenille bedspread, with his arms pulled above his head. Alex had allowed enough give to Mike’s wrist straps so that once Alex was mounted, crouched over Mike’s hips, and had reached a steady stroke in pumping his ass and beating on his buttocks with the riding crop in his hand, Alex could also tug on the strap attached to the collar around Mike’s neck and pull the young man’s head up to his for all-tongue kissing.

In the forward and back sway of the bed, the headboard was rhythmically bouncing against the wall. It was almost like the men in the two rooms were in a coordinated dance of the fuck, sometimes abusing the wall between them together, sometimes trading off with each other.

The last fuck of the night was a missionary, with Mike on his back, his arms pulled above his head, the wrists secured to the brass rungs of the headboard, and Alex between his bent and parted thighs, mining his passage deep. When Alex wanted it, he pulled Mike’s face up to his by pulling on the collar chain, and they kissed. Mike’s eyes had glazed over and he was near exhaustion.

Alex was near exhaustion too. Age was getting to him. At one time he could go all day and all night. He wasn’t going to make it in fucking through the night tonight, though. And he couldn’t ruin himself for tomorrow. This had all been for tomorrow and for the next week and for as long as he could spin this revving up out until there was another day the fleet was in.

After he’d filled the bulb of his condom this time and Mike had shot his last, weak ejaculation up Alex’s belly, Alex lowered his body on Mike’s and both dozed off to the sound of the beating of the headboard against the wall in the other room and the feel of Alex going soft inside Mike’s passage.

They woke up as the room was lightening from the rising of the sun outside the hotel room window. They stirred and cooed at each other, kissed, and Alex fondled.

“You could release my wrists,” Mike murmured. “My arms have gone to sleep.”

“In a bit,” Alex said. He’d gone hard. He didn’t want to waste it. “One more and then I’ll take you to breakfast and anywhere else you want to go.”

Mike objected, but just a bit. Not enough to make Alex stop scooting underneath his body, facing up, putting Mike to the cock from underneath and behind, lacing his legs through Mike’s and raising and spreading them, planting his own feet on the tasseled sheets, wrapping his arms around Mike’s torso so that he could worry Mike’s nipples, and start thrusting deep into Mike’s passage.

Mike moaned as the headboard once again started to drum against the wall behind the bed.

After breakfast, Alex drove Mike over to the University Boulevard gay district, pointing out the various establishments and what Mike could expect to find in each.

“You’ll have to be careful,” Alex said. “You’re of a favorite type around here. You’ll get a lot of attention—by more than one man at a time. The fleet’s in so there will be a lot of randy sailors.”

“I know a good bit about randy sailors,” Mike said. “I like attention by more than one—of course you seemed like more than one last night,” he quickly added, showing he knew how to handle his men. “God you were big—and you could keep it up. Surprising for a man your age. You gotta be, what, thirty-five or thirty-six?”

“Yeah, something like that,” the forty-one-year-old lied. The young sailor had hit his sore point. He was getting on in age. He needed boosts like this, when the fleet came in, and a night or two with a nineteen-year-old to do justice with his relationship with Terry, who now was pushing thirty himself. He had convinced himself that this all was part of the commitment to Terry, not a betrayal of their relationship. He needed a boost every once in a while to be revved up for Terry long enough to keep their relationship going. Having the fleet come in periodically helped give him that boost.

He wanted nothing so much as to take this sweet little nineteen-year-old piece who took his fetishes in his stride back to room 206 at the Friendship Hotel and bang him again—he still had the room booked. But he couldn’t risk it. He had to go home to Terry later today, and he had to have something left in the tank or at least time for the tank to refill.

“What’s that over there?” Mike asked.

“That’s a Turkish bathhouse,” Alex answered. In fact, it was the same one he’d fucked the young sailor Sean in the day before. “There’s a lot of action going on in there. With the fleet in it will be crawling with randy men today.”

“I want to go there.”

Alex took him there. He wanted to save himself now, so he didn’t fuck Mike in the pool. But he sat below the water’s surface on the bench lining the inside wall of the pool and pulled on his cock while he watched Mike being gang banged by five men on the floor across the pool from him. He was sitting on two cocks, sideways, the two men under him stretched together, the thighs of one over the thighs of the other, cocks bundled together for Mike to take together. He was sucking another guy’s cock, and two other guys had their hands all over him, waiting for a turn that Mike seemed to be quite willing to give them. Alex was half hard, remembering when he was in the thick of such a group fuck in his younger days.

Try as he might, Alex couldn’t make himself go all hard. He’d given it quite a workout and he resigned himself to needing to give it a rest. He felt his age. He didn’t look his age, though, and his age was more of a come on for some young men than a deterrent. One such guy entered the pool beside Alex. He was young, cut, and obviously a sailor from the way he carried himself, the anchor tattoo he had on his arm, and the buzz cut of his head. No local in San Diego who wasn’t nearly bald already anyway would buzz cut his hair.

“I’m randy,” he said as he settled down on the bench below the water surface next to Alex.

“Hi, Randy, I’m Alex.”

“No, I mean I’m really randy,” the young sailor said. “Watching Mike get gang banged over there has me in pain. I’ve wanted some of that on the ship.”

“You’re from the USS Fitzgerald too then?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, how did you know that?” the sailor asked.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are in need. Can I help you with that? Jack you off until there’s an opening over there and you can get a piece of Mike too?”

“Are you waiting to do him too?”

“I’ve done him. All night. And I’m a bit tired now. But if you’d like, lay back and I’ll take care of you with my hand.”

“I don’t know if a hand job—”

“I can make a hand job good enough,” Alex said.

The sailor laid back, but he turned his face to Alex and they kissed as Alex fisted the young man’s cock and masturbated him to a release. The sailor gasped as Alex pushed his foreskin off the bulb and began working on the bulb in earnest, rubbing and squeezing it and worrying the piss slit open with his pinky. Doing it underwater provided something of a lubricant on the young man’s sensitive spots. The sailor writhed under Alex, starting to move his hips, and Alex made a sheath with the fingers of his hand and let the sailor fuck the hand to a cloudy flow of cum into the water of the pool. Alex dearly would have liked to have more from the young sailor and to do more with him, but the guy was a top and so was Alex and Alex needed to rest himself now—for later, he kept telling himself.

After he’d ejaculated, Alex asked, “Was—?”

“Oh, shit, yes, that was good,” the young sailor answered with a mellow tone.

He sat there, beside Alex, and they chatted a bit about the gay life in San Diego and what you could get where. Seeing that there was an opening on Mike’s dance card on the tiles across the pool, though, Alex urged the young man to cut in.

“You sure you don’t want me to do you?” he asked. “You give great jack. I’d be happy to do the same for you. You’ve got a great bod too.” The “for your age” wasn’t said, but was understood.

“I should. I own a gym,” Alex said. “No, go on. You youngsters have your fun.” One last kiss, and the sailor was moving across the pool to the action on the other side.

Alex could see that Mike was having a good time—quite possibly a better time than he’d had with Alex the night before. So, a little melancholy about that, Alex left them to it, went back to the locker room and dressed, and drove over to his gym. The gym was full of possible tail again today, but Alex went to his office and stayed there, out of sight and out of reach of temptation.

At one point, Hank, one of the trainers, popped his head into the office and said, “You should be out here boss. There’s so much young guy poontang running around looking for it with the fleet being in today that you need to see this.”

What he meant but didn’t say was that Alex needed to get in on it. It was a running ill-kept secret that the boss went off the rails when the fleet was in. He was all so straitlaced about being in a committed relationship—and he usually was good about that—but when the fleet was in, he dipped his wick. All the guys working at the gym knew that, and most of them were glad he did. He made them feel guilty, being so adamant about it when the fleet wasn’t in. They were all tops. They all worked at this gay gym on the edge of San Diego’s gay district to pick off the bottoms who came to the gym to get exactly what they got. It was threatening to them to see Alex so adamant about commitment to one guy—except on the days the fleet was in. So, they goaded him whenever they could to go off the reservation. They all knew he’d worked over a young honey pot in one of the private-session gym rooms the day before. They wanted him to do it today too.

“Some great, willing tail out here, boss.”

“Thanks, but I’m saving myself,” Alex answered. “Whenever I go up to LA for the night, Terry expects something special when I get back. I want to be able to give it to him.”

“LA? You didn’t drive up to LA yesterday, did you?” Hank jolly well knew Alex hadn’t driven up to Los Angeles. He’d been here, fucking a nice little piece yesterday. They’d left together. Hank didn’t have any doubt that the party had continued. He’d been standing by the desk when the receptionist had made the room reservation at the Friendship Hotel. Everyone knew what happened at the Friendship hotel.

“Terry doesn’t know I didn’t go to LA—and none of you are going to tell him.”

The only part of that that made sense was the command that he and the other trainers mind their own business and not take any tales to the boss’s bed partner. Hank understood when he was being dismissed and was on the edge of being fired from a cushy job that allowed him to easily pick off cute fucks. So he withdrew and Alex went back to looking at his paperwork without really seeing it and resisting going out on the floor and joining in on the fun.

Chapter Four: Back in the Saddle

Craig, the head dresser, was humming when Terry entered the theater that afternoon. Terry had spent the day cleaning the Harbor Loft apartment from top to bottom and putting together a gourmet dinner that could be kept in the refrigerator and just popped in the oven twenty minutes before they wanted to eat. An expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio had gone into the refrigerator.

On hearing Craig humming, Terry realized he was humming as well. Craig had a little smile on his face. Terry realized that he was smiling too.

“Do you know if the lights got adjusted yesterday?” he stopped and asked Craig.

“Yes, but late into the night,” the head dresser answered. “I had to help Tony finish them off because I was the only one here when he needed an extra pair of hands.”

“So, has Tony come in yet today?” Terry asked.

“He won’t be coming in today. He left early for Chicago. Said something came up unexpectedly.” Craig looked a little sad in delivering that news.

Terry laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet something came up unexpectedly when the two of you were alone in here last night.”

“Excuse me?” Craig was blushing.

“Was it a good fuck? Did Tony fuck you well? Do it twice, did he? Put you in some positions you’d never been in before?”

Craig flared up. “Yes, he fucked me well. Tony has a cock to die for. I’m just sad he’s gone and won’t be doing me again.”

“Yeah, I agree with you. He did me yesterday too. I’m glad you got some before he left. No judgment from me.”

Leaving Craig with his mouth gaping, Terry went back to behind the stage. The reason why he’d come in was that it had bothered him to leave the costumes the way they were—the red velvet one with his semen stains on them. Maybe it could be cleaned before anything else was done with it—just so he’d know it didn’t have essence of him on it. If not, he’d just toss it. What he didn’t want was for others to see it and to wonder about—or, worse, not wonder about it; know how the stain got there. It would be worse for someone to figure it out. Tony was a braggart. It would be just like him to say he’d fucked Terry and Craig before he left for Chicago. But he was a braggart who delivered. He’d said he wanted to spike both Terry and Craig before he left. So, if he’d left for Chicago, then everyone would strongly suspect anyway if they didn’t know.

The red velvet costume wasn’t in the pile of costumes on the dressing room floor. It was, however, in the wastebasket—along with four used condoms.

So, yes, Terry thought, Craig had been spiked twice too. He lifted the costume out of the basket. There were more stains on it than he’d put there. The material was ruined, but it had some “good times” memories attached to it now, so maybe . . .

He stuffed it in a plastic bag, left the theater, tossed the costume in the backseat of the Rav4, and drove back to the Harbor Loft apartment.

* * * *

Alex came home to the Harbor Loft apartment at 5:00 p.m. Soft music was playing in the living area. He went to the refrigerator and opened it. He saw the meal sitting in there and knew that it was one that could be started at any time and be ready afterward. He saw the wine. The wine was a signal between them. For that matter the conveniently prepared meal was a signal to him.

That the fleet had come in was a signal to him. That he’d supposedly gone to Los Angeles overnight was a signal to him. This had been what had continually reignited their relationship in recent years—not just the signals, but the preparation that had gone into them.

It had been a struggle. It had been so easy to drift into what a lot of marriages and committed arrangements were—complacency and same sameness. Added to this that they weren’t as young as they had been when they’d first hooked up. They’d both assumed that they would continue to approach life in high gear as they did when Terry was nineteen and Alex, although he was thirty-three, was in top shape physically. Their assumptions had been wrong. Life slowed down. Life became humdrum. They both were oversexed, though. That hadn’t changed. The flash of excitement kept fizzling, however.

But thank God that here, in San Diego, the fleet occasionally came in and randy and submissive sailors poured out into the city on shore leave.

Alex took a beer from the refrigerator and drank it off in a couple of gulps. Then he turned and headed for the master bedroom, knowing what he’d find when he opened the door.

Terry was lying in the center of the bed on a red velvet spread that looked suspiciously like a billowy dress, on his back, naked, his legs bent and spread, his cock in his hand. Beside him were straps and restraints, a ball gag, and a riding crop. These were now and again staples of their lovemaking, although their use never seemed to be sustained. They were what Alex liked. They tended to come out when the fleet was in but then disappear within a week when sessions went back to Wednesday and Friday night and easily became hurried and perfunctory, with no time taken to gather props.

This was Saturday night and the fleet was in. On top of that Terry had brought out the toys. Alex’s cock was hard and throbbing.

“Do a striptease for me, Daddy,” Terry said, his voice thick with want.

Alex complied.

When he went to the bed, Terry was snapping closed the dog collar around his throat. The leather leash hung down his back. He held out the wrist restraints to Alex.

As Alex liked, they started with a reverse cowboy, with Alex flat on his back, his knees bent to give him leverage to work with and with his feet flat on the mattress. Terry was saddled on Alex’s pelvis, facing his feet, riding his cock, Terry’s wrists were tied behind him and Alex was signaling the variations in the ride with the differences of his guidance with the leash attached to the collar. He beat a tattoo on Terry’s back and buttocks with the riding crop in the other hand—nothing too painful or that would leave angry welts for more than an hour or two.

When the rhythm became steady, the bed started rocking forward and back, the headboard thumping against the wall. Visions of Terry became mixed in Alex’s mind with that of binding and fucking Seaman Apprentice Mike Pastrol in room 206 of the Friendship Hotel. That didn’t make Alex appreciate Terry less; it just made Alex harder, thicker, longer—and longer lasting—as he fucked up into Terry’s ass.

Then Terry was on his back, arms trapped above his head, tied off at the brass rungs of the headboard. His legs were spread and bent. Pillows were stuffed under the small of his back. He was biting on the ball gag. Alex was crouched between his spread thighs, eating his ass out and sucking his cock and balls. Then he was mining Terry’s ass with a dildo. When he moved his knees between Terry’s thighs and started working his cock in, above the buried dildo, Terry writhed under him and emitted muffled screams of pain, pleasure, and passion through the ball gag, taking the two forms of cock—the natural and rubberized versions—in his stride.

The rhythm of Alex’s thrusts—thrusting the natural cock with his pelvis and the dildo with his fist—caused the bed to thump against the wall behind the headboard. Terry’s vision of Alex became mixed with that of Petty Officer First Class Joe Jones and Petty Officer Julio Hernandez sharing Terry in a double fuck in room 204 of the Friendship Hotel, and Terry’s arousal soared up to the heavens. He exploded in three gushes of cum, arcing it up to splash against Alex’s chest.

Alex came while riding Terry’s ass in a doggie fuck, crouched high on Terry’s hips, Terry’s wrists tied once more to the headboard, Alex, dreaming of both Terry and Seaman Apprentice Sean Lowell, pounding Terry’s ass in a motion that sent the bed thumping against the wall, and flogging Terry’s ass with his riding crop.

They lay, panting, in each other’s arms, nearly spent, but now coming to the part that Terry preferred and Alex granted him on these days that the fleet came in—the high days for their lovemaking.

“Is there something you want?” Alex whispered into Terry’s ear.

“Yes, please,” Terry responded, “If you can do it. I was told you couldn’t, but I want to try.”

Given that challenge, Alex was determined to do it even before hearing what the position entailed.

Terry was on his belly, his body bowed back, his legs rising up Alex’s torso and his ankles hooked on Alex’s shoulders. Alex’s arms were laced under Terry’s armpits, his fists locked behind Terry’s neck, incapacitating the young man in a full nelson hold. With Alex providing the momentum, the two rocked back and forth, the motion moving Alex’s cock deep and then deeper inside Terry’s passage. It was a peaceful, loving, rolling fuck. The headboard gently thumped against the wall behind it. Terry’s vision of the cock fucking him included a mixture of Alex, Tony, and Chief Petty Officer DeAngelo Williams. They came, one last time for the evening, in peace and love, Terry coming from his cock having rubbed in the red velvet of the costume he’d brought home from the theater and would now ceremoniously burn.

Terry’s immediate thought after they’d successfully completed the rocking fuck was, Screw you, Tony. You said my man couldn’t do this one and Alex managed it like a champ. Don’t fucking talk to me about my man being too old.

It had been the best shore leave of the Pacific fleet in San Diego yet for Alex and Terry and there was every reason that, by using it and being sensible, the fleet visits would help their sex life survive the inevitable march into aging for some time to come.

They both were committed to this relationship. They were so committed that they refused to openly connect the shore leaves of the randy sailors of the U.S. Navy Pacific fleet with their renewed sex life. More pointedly, Alex refused to make any conscious connection between Terry’s renewed arousal for him with having, the previous morning, found Terry’s sexy little whore costume and packets of condoms in the gym bag he was taking to the theater. Alex and Terry barebacked, as a hallmark of their committed relationship. There was no need for condoms. Similarly, Terry refused to acknowledge that when he had left the Friendship Hotel that morning, Alex’s red Corvette convertible was parked out front. And each knew the cries of passion of the other. There was no way that the wall between rooms 204 and 206 in the hotel successfully muffled their distinctive sex yodeling from each other.

They each hoped that the U.S. Navy would continue to schedule fleet shore leaves in San Diego for many years to come. Neither of them wanted to erase a genuine—a real—lifetime commitment to each other just because they’d gotten to a point to needing a jolt now and again to keep their engines revved for each other, and neither of them wanted to threaten the arrangement by letting this need come out in the open.

– FINI –

This story is an original work of fiction. It should not be reposted or reproduced in whole or in part without the author’s consent. Furthermore, this story is meant to be entertainment for consenting adult readers and not meant for anyone who is offended by aggressive/kinky gay sex. If you do not enjoy this type of material, or if it is illegal to read in your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately.

Comments and suggestions are highly appreciated, and can be sent to [email protected]

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PREVIOUSLY:

“Have fun?” Carson said, smirking.

“Yes sir!” I replied.

I handed him the index cards and he shoved them into his pocket. I stayed on my knees, hoping he’d want his own turn, but he just laughed, shook his head, and motioned to the bag.

“I think you’ve had enough for one night, pig.”

Carson smuggled me back out of the house and back to my dorm. When I got to my room, I immediately stripped down and jerked myself at the thought of the night’s events. I’d swallowed 12 loads, had my mouth around 15 different dicks, and drank about a gallon of piss to boot. I came quickly, shooting so hard I hit my face.

I fucking loved Delta house.

---

What’s Mine Is Yours

I heard from Carson a couple days later, not because he wanted service, but to thank me for helping with the test, and to let me know that all 15 pledges had made it into the fraternity. I knew that meant that Carson may now have a Little Brother. I wondered how that could affect me.

He had promised to let me know who I’d blown, but not when or how. Of course curiosity was killing me, but I didn’t dare ask. According to Carson, Delta didn’t make their new brothers public until the end of the year. New brothers were still on a sort of probation until they finished their freshman year, to instill a sense of “humility” before they could take their place openly as the big men on campus. I had to laugh at the idea of a Delta man being humble.

In an attempt to satisfy my curiosity, I stalked the Instagrams and Snapchats of various Delta brothers I found online who weren’t set to private, trying to read the tea leaves and divine who might have been a new inductee. I found nothing.

Rather, this began a rather fallow period in my sex life. The next few weeks, the dreary dead of winter, were pretty boring. Mostly I was just going to class, studying, and jerking off to the memories I’d made. The gloryhole experience made many appearances, even though I only had dicks and voices to inspire my self-abuse.

Which is not to say I didn’t want more. Of course I did, desperately. I staked out the basement bathroom after every econ class, but never saw Jake there again. (Nor was I entirely sure I wanted to…my ass was sore as hell after that last encounter.) Hockey was consuming all of Carson’s free time, so much that I barely got any action from him, only the occasional quick unloading of his balls down my throat or up my ass.

He didn’t make me attend any more home games, but I went anyway, every time. Even if I wasn’t getting his dick afterward, I still relished the opportunity to watch Carson in action. He was his purest self on the ice, commanding, quicksilver, a vision of power and speed. For someone who a few months prior had never so much as seen a hockey game, I’d unwittingly become a fan.

It was the Sunday after one of their last home games that I finally got to spend some quality time with Carson again. I was eating brunch at the dining hall with some friends when he texted with his usual directness:

“Clear your afternoon. I’m coming over in an hour.”

My cock chubbed up just from this. I made an excuse about having to get to a study group and ran back to my dorm. I quickly tidied up my room and did my bottoming prep. Not long after I’d lubed my ass, there Carson was, knocking on my door. I opened it and he barged in.

“Hey,” he grunted, before dropping his parka and flopping down on my bed.

He looked a mess. His eyes were bloodshot and he seemed green around the gills. He was wearing a hoodie and sweats, carrying a red Gatorade, half-drunk. Of course my gaze had gone straight to his bulge.

“Hello sir,” I said. “You okay?”

“Just hung the fuck over, bitch.” He groaned as if in pain, throwing an arm over his eyes. “The boys fuckin’ sent it last night after the win. Did a power hour at the hockey house then kept raging all night.”

He wiggled his feet. I took the hint and stripped off his sneakers and socks, and began massaging them. I mostly focused on the massage but also incorporated some kissing and toe sucking like I knew he liked. He still had his arm thrown across his face, but his other hand had found its way inside his pants, lightly stroking himself. My mouth watered.

After a few minutes of servicing his feet, Carson bridged his hips and pulled his pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. He laid back and grabbed his hard cock by the base as I pulled the tangle of his clothes from his ankles.

“Lemme get that throat,” he said as he shook his dick.

I crouched over his waist and impaled my mouth onto his pole. I had my nose in his blonde pubes instantly, and began sucking him up and down with long strokes. I tasted a little precum, and felt proud when he let out an appreciative groan.

“Fuuuuuck,” he said. “I need this. I boned some Alpha Phi last night but I was so hammered I couldn’t keep it up. Was like trying to stuff a sausage back into the casing.”

I tried to suppress my disgust at the thought of Carson’s cock inside a sorority girl a few hours earlier and focused on the task at hand.

He let me suck him for a long time. Probably an hour. For the most part I just serviced his cock, which for me lost none of its hardness, but sometimes he’d fuck up into my throat with a hand on the back of my head. My jaw may have been sore but I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

I’d recently braved a local sex store to buy some poppers, and at some point during the blowjob Carson noticed the bottle on my desk. He grabbed it and examined it.

“I’ve seen Jake use this shit with his bitch before. What’s it do?”

I spit out his dick for a second and caught my breath.

“They’re called poppers,” I said. “They’re good for bottoming, they loosen you up. It’s kind of like a full body head rush. You just feel warm and super relaxed for like 30 seconds. Feels great while jerking off, too.”

Carson considered the bottle for a second and then handed it to me.

“Do some.”

I unscrewed the poppers and took a hit. As I felt the rush come on and the world went blurry, I dove back onto his cock and sucked like my life depended on it. Carson’s dick couldn’t have tasted better. I went to town. As the high began to wear off, I looked up at his face. He was slack-jawed, mouth agape.

“Dude,” he said. “That was next level. You’ve *never* sucked my dick that good before. This shit is magic!”

I giggled with his dick in my mouth, and inwardly beamed. Nothing made me feel better than pleasing this god. I withdrew for a moment.

“Wanna try?” I said, holding the poppers up.

“Fuck it,” he said, and grabbed them from me.

At first it looked like Carson was going to pour them up his nose, so I showed him how to take a sniff, covering one nostril while holding the bottle under the other. As soon as he finished I went back to sucking his dick, doing my absolute best to show him how good he could feel.

Carson threw his head back as I slobbered and bobbed on his cock, taking the full length with each slippery stroke. I paused at the bottom, letting him feel the entirety of his cock inside my throat, gagging a tiny bit for effect.

“Woooooooooooooooooow,” he said.

I looked up and his eyes were like saucers, shock and excitement on his face. I smiled with his dick in my mouth and kept going.

We kept at it for a little while longer, trading off the poppers and enjoying the sloppiest blowjob I could provide. I could sense, by the way Carson was increasing his grip on my head and his thrusts into my mouth, that his aggression was returning, and soon enough he commanded me to sit on his cock.

As I stripped off my pants and underwear, he pulled his hoodie and t-shirt over his head, revealing his perfect chest and abs. I couldn’t stop but stare for a second, overwhelmed by his beauty. I also couldn’t help but notice a small hickey at the base of his neck.

Carson wagged his dick at me, now slimy and rock hard, again. I climbed onto the bed and got into a reverse cowgirl position, squatting over his cock. He spread my cheeks wide with both hands.

“Get it, slut,” he growled. “Sit on this dick.”

I held myself up with one hand and reached around with the other to guide him toward my hole. I felt his head at my entrance and, with no little effort, sat down.

We groaned in unison. I began to bounce on Carson’s cock, slowly at first and then picking up speed. I glanced back and he had both hands behind his head, armpits deliciously exposed, a look of anticipation and ownership on his face. It seemed a hungover Carson was a more passive Carson, at least for now.

I decided to put on the best show I could. I shifted slightly forward, toward his feet, and planted both hands on his legs, still squatting on his dick. In that position, I could more easily twerk my ass on his cock. So twerk I did.

“Fuck yeah,” a lusty voice said behind me. “Bounce on that big dick. Jerk me off with that tight little pussy.”

Using his legs as leverage, I was able to squat up and down his whole length. I bounced and bounced, my ass hitting his hips with each stroke, his cock hitting my prostate every time. He bucked up slightly each time to get as deep as possible. It felt fucking fantastic.

I noticed the poppers lying on the bed and decided to turn it up a notch, so I squatted all the way down, steadied myself, and grabbed them for a quick hit. As soon as I’d inhaled I screwed the cap back on, tossed them aside, and put my ass into overdrive.

The world was spinning on an axis of Carson’s dick. I felt weightless, the only thing holding me to earth the friction of his cock sliding in and out of my hole. Waves of pleasure washed over me each time I bottomed out. Our grunts and moans punctuated a slapping of skin against skin.

Suddenly, he pushed me off and I fell back onto the bed. I looked over: Carson had slid off and was standing in the middle of my room, panting, sweaty. His cock was engorged and slick with lube. On his face, a look of hunger I’d only rarely seen.

“I wanna go deeper,” he growled.

He grabbed my hips and swiveled me until I was crosswise on my twin XL bed, head against the wall. I was clutching the poppers in my hand, and unthinkingly brought them to my nose, but first, I held them up to Carson. He regarded the bottle briefly, then gave me the slightest nod. I brought it to his face, pressed a nostril closed, and let him inhale. A deep, manful inhale. Once he was done, I took my own.

As always with poppers, time seemed to slow as the world warmed up. 

His big jock hands found the insides of my knees and pressed them to my shoulders as he pointed his hockey stick at my goal. Looking down at it, he adjusted so he was aimed at his target, looked up at me, and took his shot.

Black.

Stars.

The night sky.

The Milky Way.

My dorm room dissolved, then with an aching slowness returned. Carson’s dick plunged into my depths, over and over and over and over and over. I lost and regained consciousness, overwhelmed by sensation. To call it amazing would understate the extent to which, in that moment, I both was and was not myself, not human, all man, sex and sweat and effort and lust all reduced down to a column of flesh plunging in and out of its complementary hole, its home.

As I finally became aware of myself, my self, in those few seconds after Carson had shown me God, I looked up and saw his face. An intense look of concentration and, yes, you couldn’t mistake it: desire.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, over his nose, and onto me. I caught it in my mouth without thinking or meaning to; I was his receptacle, the place into which he could flow.

We stared deeply into each other’s eyes as he pounded my pussy into submission. An inapt phrase, as I was always under his power, as was my choice. Here I was, folded in half, Carson’s, his face mere inches from mine. He couldn’t have been deeper inside me. Two people couldn’t have been closer.

The poppers started to wear off, but the pleasure didn’t. My own dick was achingly hard. I could sense him nearing climax; at this point, I was well-attuned to his body’s rhythms.

I reached up and dragged my nails across his back. I clutched him to me.

His eyes widened. His nostrils flared. With a roar, he buried his head in the nape of my neck and redoubled his thrusts. It didn’t matter, my ass felt only ecstasy. I latched my own lips onto his neck, sucking hard, tasting the heat and musk and power. Softly, urgently, I heard in my ear the rough truths of a man on edge.

Fuck fuck fuck

Take that dick

Yes

Take that dick you fucking bitch

Take it

Fuck yeah fuck

Gonna breed your ass

Fuck

Fuck

Gonna get you pregnant, fuck yeah

Fuck fuck fuck

You’re all mine faggot

Fuck yeah bitch

Take that cum

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK

FUCK

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

***

Panting, he regained himself, and looked into my eyes once more. Where a few seconds ago I had seen an undeniable intensity, that hunger at the base of everything, now I saw a rueful softness. Not regret, no–but a bashful reticence, the kind of embarrassment you feel when you’ve opened yourself up just too much. A smile, but a sad one.

I knew that look. I’d given that look more times than I cared to remember. Being gay, you’re always delicately straddling the line between confession and deception, between what you mean and how you want to be seen. The other side of desire is often shame.

I also knew, both for Carson’s sake and for my own selfish need to maintain our fragile relationship, whatever it may be, that I couldn’t let intimacy be its own enemy.

Gently, and never breaking eye contact, I pushed him off of me and out of me. Keeping a hand on his chest, I twisted myself the right way onto my bed and laid my head on the pillow, pressing myself as close to the wall as I could, leaving space. I reached a hand behind his shoulder and urged him onto the bed. To my surprise, he collapsed onto me, throwing an arm across my torso and laying his head on my chest. Half of his huge, perfect body covered my own, slick, heaving, heavy, spent. I stroked his hair with one hand that was beginning, under his weight, to fall asleep. Within a few minutes, he was too.

***

This is not a love story.

You may want it to be. But did I? Did I want to be Carson’s boyfriend?

Of course I did.

But I hope you’ve realized by now that I’m a realist; it could never happen. I would take everything he was willing to give me and, privately, so much more, but he always controlled the boundaries of our arrangement, and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what was outside of them.

I don’t mean that because I was willing to do anything for him. I mean it as a law of nature. It was tautological, an axiom, as sure as the sun rising and setting. Carson had decided what we were, and that was that.

This didn’t make me sad, or at least not in the way you probably think. I don’t know where I’d developed my cynicism, but it was there, and its hooks were in me. God forbid you ever get everything you want, I thought: you’ll soon find it’s not enough.

So no, while the man of my dreams napped on top of me, peaceful as a baby, I wasn’t thinking: stay, be with me, be mine.

I was thinking: stay, wake up, my arm is pins and needles and I want you to fuck the life of out of me again, please.

Please.

***

When he did stir, I had myself been falling in and out of a light sleep. The heat in the dorm was torturously inconsistent–it seemed to know exactly when to be wrong. Now my room was stifling, and as Carson began to move, we both realized just how sweaty our bodies were.

His soft dick, still huge, had been pressed against my hip, keeping me hard the whole nap. If it bothered him to have my boner against his ripped oblique, he didn’t give any indication. Carson wasn’t squeamish. After all, his cock had already spent an intense few minutes sliding against Matt’s inside me, their loads intermingled. And it seemed like the man almost had a preference for sloppy seconds, so his sub’s dick, while of no interest, wasn’t going to bother him.

Still, our bodies felt stale and slippery in an unpleasant way. I could sense relief in both of us when Carson twisted off of me and stood up. He stretched his arms out wide, his wingspan nearly touching both sides of my room, and gave a boyish yawn. I noticed on his neck a new hickey, darker and bigger than the one from the sorority girl. When he reached for his sweatpants, I frowned at the thought that our afternoon together had already come to an end.

How wrong I was. He grabbed his phone and dropped the pants back to the floor, then wagged his floppy cock without even looking at me.

“Gotta piss like crazy, bitch.”

I leapt out of bed and knelt before him. My joints ached but I was always happy to receive him. As I wrapped my lips around his dick, Carson shook his head.

“No, open up. Don’t swallow until I tell you.”

I withdrew, held my mouth open, and waited. Carson was pointing his phone at me in such a way I could tell he was taking a video. At this point, he had so many videos of me in compromising positions that I didn’t care. The trust between us, twisted though it may be, was strong.

After a few seconds of waiting, I saw a drop begin to form, and then his stream erupted from his piss slit and flowed straight into my open mouth. It was yellow, acrid, and bitter, a real hangover piss. Despite myself, I loved it.

I kept my throat closed and let it fill my mouth. Just before it was about to overflow, Carson pinched off the stream. He had a smug look on his face.

“Fuck yeah faggot,” he said. “You like being my toilet? You like letting me unload my piss right into your pathetic little mouth? You wanna swallow that piss?”

Obviously I couldn’t say anything, so I put on my best doe eyes and gave a small nod. Anything more would make a mess.

“I bet you do, bitch. Swallow.”

I gulped it down and smacked my lips, putting on a show.

“Taste good?”

“Yes sir!” I said. “I love when you bless me with your piss!”

Carson laughed with a cruel edge. He smacked his big soft cock against my lips.

“You love to be my fuckin’ urinal, don’t you faggot? You’d drink my piss all day if you could.”

“Oh yes sir! I’d love to drink all of your piss. If it comes out of your beautiful dick, it should end up in me.”

His smile widened.

“Good boy. Open up.”

I opened my lips. He rested the head of his dick on my lower lip.

“Gulp it all down,” he said with all the confidence of a man who knows he’s in charge.

His stream began again, and I gulped down as often as I could. It was much harder to drink this way, with my mouth open rather than suckling his head, but I focused on not choking and managed to swallow it all. As I knew he wanted, I stared into his phone’s camera with hungry eyes so it looked like I wanted this more than anything. Which, to be fair, I did.

When Carson finished pissing, he shook his dick a few times to get the last few drops, then gave my cheeks a few hard smacks with it.

“Good little pig bitch,” he said. “You make an excellent toilet.”

He stopped recording then flopped back down onto my bed, face down, hugging the pillow.

“Not sure if I want another nut yet, but why don’t you eat my ass and lick my nuts for a while?”

I readily agreed, and climbed onto the bed. His ass, a perfect bubble, sculpted by the gods, lay before me. I placed each hand on a cheek and spread them, exposing his pink little hole, slightly darker than the skin around it. Like most straight guys, Carson didn’t bother to trim his pubic hair, and there was a small patch of hair around his asshole, but otherwise he was fairly smooth.

When I dove in, tongue first, I was greeted with a ripe, manly musk and an equally delicious taste. His hole didn’t yield immediately, but as I lapped at it I could feel him relaxing, and the groans from the other end of the bed encouraged me to continue. I ate his ass for a good while, sometimes giving his big ball some service as well. Carson seemed content to play on his phone and give the occasional grunt while I tossed his salad. I could hear him texting back and forth with someone.

“Hey bitch,” he said, not turning around. “What are you doing for spring break?”

“Probably just going home, sir.”

“Can you stick around campus?”

“I think so. I’d have to give my parents an excuse. Why?”

“Let’s just say I may be able to keep you entertained all week if you can.”

I could hear the grin in his voice, and I knew he was planning something wild. Nothing excited Carson more than pushing me further and further down a path of sexual corruption. A whole week of it sounded like a piggy dream.

“I’ll see what I can do, sir. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good.”

He kicked me away and stood up. His dick had grown nearly back to full mast.

“Now hang your head over the edge of the bed. I feel like fucking a load down your throat.”

***

Carson texted me with questions a few times in the weeks after, but I didn’t see him much. Hockey was gearing up towards, hopefully, a successful post-season campaign, so his time was limited. The questions he asked were all geared toward spring break. Did I have any plans, or could I make myself free the whole time? When was my last class before the break? The sort of thing that got me excited about the possibility of spending an extended period of time serving him. Of course I eagerly made myself amenable to everything. Nothing would make me happier.

Then, his season ended abruptly. The team was eliminated in the semifinals of their conference championship, making it impossible for them to make the NCAA tournament. The next evening, Carson keyed into my room with no announcement and fucked the shit out of me in anger. It was hot as fuck. I could barely walk after.

The following Wednesday night, a few days before spring break, Carson summoned me to Delta.

I was surprised he told me just to show up; no hockey bag subterfuge this time. When I arrived at the imposing front door to the Delta mansion, I texted I was there and within a minute, the door was opening and there was Carson, shirtless and wearing just grey sweatpants and flip flops.

“Hey dude,” he said, friendly and casual. “Come on in.”

I watched the play of his back muscles as I followed him into the cavernous entry hall and up the stairs. As we climbed to the second floor, a burly redhead came skipping down past us. He stopped to dap Carson.

“O’Grady! My man!”

“Sup Conway? We’re getting dice going soon if you want in.”

“Maybe later. Gotta work on a project with my boy Teddy here.”

I had suspected the ginger was O’Grady when he first appeared, and the smirk that came to his mouth when Carson introduced me confirmed that he knew who I was.

“Hey…man,” he said as he looked me up and down.

“Good to meet you,” I said, and offered my hand.

O’Grady hesitated for a second then clasped my hand in a tight handshake. As we shook hands he pulled me closer, looked deep into my eyes, and let out a chuckle.

“Never shook hands with a toilet before,” he whispered in my ear.

With that he giggled to himself and lumbered down the stairs. I gaped for a second, surprised by the abrupt meeting, but quickly recovered and followed Carson, who was himself suppressing a laugh, up to the second floor. When we got to his room, the door was closed but I could hear voices inside. Before opening it, he stopped and turned to me.

“Don’t fuck this up for me,” he said sternly.

I nodded, suddenly nervous. Fuck what up?

Carson opened the door, and roughly shoved me in. I fell to my knees at the sudden push, hearing laughter and catcalls. When I looked up, I saw not merely Jake Thorn smiling back at me, but also five more Delta men. Five hot frat bros I’d never met before. Carson stood next to me and held a hand on my shoulder, keeping me down.

“Boys, meet Teddy, my bitch,” he said, eyes gleaming with evil and delight. “Bitch, you know Jake. Meet five of the newest brothers of Delta, or should I say…”

He paused dramatically.

“Five new masters for you.”

***

When I was finally able to pick my jaw off the dirty carpet, I surveyed the men in front of me. Each was different, and each was hotter than the next. To be sure, I’d be happy to service any of them, but the idea of submitting to all five seemed a tall order. I felt eagerness and fear battling within me.

Jake stood up and came to my other side. He grabbed my head and wrenched it back painfully.

“Open,” he commanded.

I opened my mouth and he spit a huge loogie into it. I tasted whiskey in his spit. I swallowed and opened my mouth again to show it was gone. He smiled down at me, cruel and commanding, then pulled my gaze back to the other boys in the room, seated casually across Carson and Matt’s couch and desk chairs. A handle of Jack sat on a desk, and a partially empty 30-rack of Natty Ice sat at the foot of the couch. In front of the closet, a suitcase lay open, clothes spilling out. The guys were all holding beers or red Solo cups, and I could tell from the looks I was getting that they’d been drinking for a while.

“What do you think, Conway?” Jake asked companionably. “Should we start with some introductions?”

“Why not?” Carson replied. I could tell by his tone of voice that he was enjoying showing me off. I had a pretty good idea of which pledges at least a few of them were, but let’s allow the introductions to flow as they did. It’s more fun that way.

“Well boys? Who’d like to start?” Jake asked.

The new brothers gave each other a glance. Finally, one spoke up.

“Yo, bitch,” he said. “Fisher VanMeter the fourth. Chevy Chase, Maryland. I’m here to tear it up on the lax field, pound beers, and pound bitches. You’re lucky to even be in my fucking presence.”

“CUATRO!” the boys all called out. I assumed it was his nickname in the frat, a play on his ridiculous lineage. Some of them had snickered at Fisher’s bravado, but I also noticed a couple eye rolls. He was a hot prepster, cut from a similar cloth as Jake. Standing about 6 feet tall, he had a slightly leaner build, sandy light brown hair, and a clean-shaven face that reminded me vaguely of a squirrel. He was wearing a Vineyard Vines t-shirt and khakis, with Rainbow flip flops on his feet. This was a guy who’d spent plenty of time at the yacht club.

“Hello sir,” I said meekly.

Carson cleared his throat. “Don’t forget to tell the bitch your pledge number from the night of the Manhood Test. After all the…work he did, the least we can do is help match dick to dude.”

Another chuckle from the room.

“Right, Conway. Good idea,” Fisher said. “I was pledge #1 that night. Hope you enjoyed swallowing my load first.”

“Yes sir,” I nodded. “Thank you for giving it to me.”

Fisher gave me a smile of pure condescension. I hated it. I wanted his dick again.

“Who’s next?” Carson asked.

“I’ll go,” another guy chimed in. “Andre Harris, but everyone calls me Dre. I’m from Eugene, Oregon, and I play varsity soccer. Oh yeah, and I was pledge 11 that night.”

I remembered pledge 11. He was the one who’d given the guys a pump-up speech to get them ready for the test. And he had a delicious uncut cock.

Dre was the shortest of the boys, but still taller than me, probably 5’10” or so. Like Fisher, he had a lean, athletic body, but I could see from the legs peeking out of his gym shorts that he was stacked, at least on the bottom half, as you’d expect a soccer player to be. I guessed (and I’d learn later I was correct) that he was mixed-race, half black and half white, with a wild mop of curls and hazel eyes. He looked boyish and almost innocent, but I remembered how dominant he’d been at the gloryhole. I couldn’t help myself.

“Hi daddy,” I said with a tiny coy smile on my face.

The room CRACKED UP. Everyone was in stitches. Carson doubled over in laughter–I’d never seen him so animated. Jake clapped my shoulder so hard it hurt a little. Dre had blushed, but took the ribbing good-naturedly. I thought I’d made a small private joke but I hadn’t expected such a raucous reception. When they recovered, I looked up at Carson with a questioning glance. He had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

“That was fucking gold, bitch,” he said, wiping his eyes. “The pledges insisted Dre’s pledge name be Daddy after his performance downstairs with you.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Dre said, trying and mostly failing to put on a deep, authoritative voice.

Another round of laughter. The room, I’d noticed, had a deeply masculine smell, between the seven frat boys and Carson and Matt’s general lack of cleanliness. I wondered briefly where Matt was, but this didn’t seem like his jam.

The initial tension had dissolved somewhat, leaving behind a relaxed, libidinous atmosphere still unsettled by the strange power dynamic. Here were two well-established frat bros, one their unquestionable leader and the other an alpha stud in his own right, introducing their younger charges to a world of covert homosexual dominance. I was so curious as to how this group had been chosen, whether the rest of the frat knew, and where this was all going. But I kept my mouth shut as I knew I’d get my answers, one way or another, in due time.

I was shaken from my reverie by a deep voice.

“I’ll go next,” the dude sitting in Carson’s chair said.

This Delta stud had been pretty quiet so far, mostly just laughing along with the antics and nursing a beer. I could tell he was tall from the way his legs, spread wide in black Nike sweats, angled out from the chair. He was another white jock, with wavy chestnut brown hair under a navy snapback, a five o’clock shadow, and a sharp jawline. When I’d first surveyed the group, he was the one who’d caught my eye, painfully handsome and arrogantly sure of himself. Yet there was something else about this guy that intrigued me, a dangerous quality in the way he looked at me that was similar to Carson’s own ineffable charisma and hunger.

“Danny. Wilton, Connecticut. I play lax too. I was pledge 15.”

Danny was a man of few words, but they carried great weight. Pledge 15 had been my final customer and I couldn’t possibly forget his perfect, uncut 9-incher. My eyes shot to his crotch, trying to make out that godlike bulge.

“LIL BRO” the other pledge brothers called out in unison. Danny rolled his eyes.

“Danny’s my Little Brother,” Carson said to me with a nudge of his knee, as if that explained it. I felt a twinge of jealousy.

“And mine,” Jake added.

I looked up from one of them to another, confused. Huh? From what I understood, each new brother was assigned a Big Brother to guide them. So did Jake mean because he was Carson’s Big that made him Danny’s as well?

But then I looked back and forth between Jake and Danny and realized what he meant.

“Wait, so…” I began.

“That’s right, dumbass,” Jake said contemptuously. “Danny’s my *actual* little brother.”

Everything clicked into place. The strangely familiar quality of pledge 15’s dick and cum. That deep voice commanding me to swallow. And now of course, their actual resemblance. Jake and Danny weren’t the kind of brothers who looked undeniably like one another, but once you understood the shared genetics, you couldn’t help but see the similarities. Where Jake’s face was all angles, harsh and defined, almost too sharp, Danny’s had a softer, rounder, more manly quality to it. I’d thought Jake looked like Superman, but seeing Danny, I realized I’d picked the wrong brother for that role. Here was Clark Kent in the flesh.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” I said once I’d recovered from my epiphany.

“I’m next,” another Delta stud said in an accent I recognized instantly. “I’m Hassan Jilani from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I don’t play any lame-ass American sport but I could take any of these bitches. And I know you remember my dick, bitch.”

He wasn’t lying. I’d clocked Hassan as soon as I’d walked in. His tawny skin and stylish beard–far thicker than any college freshman had a right to grow–gave him away instantly as the Arab stud, pledge 4, who’d fucked my face so well through the gloryhole. His eyes were a piercing light blue. Another tall guy, he was wearing a white fitted Polo shirt buttoned to the top that showed off his huge biceps and chest, and, unlike the rest of the frat boys who favored comfort over style, a pair of the sexiest jeans I’d ever seen on a man. No one could question Hassan’s package in those.

“Nice to see you again, sir,” I whispered. Something about this boy–nay, man–was more intimidating than the rest.

“I gotta say,” he said with a sneer. “I’m disappointed. I thought I’d at least gotten my knob polished expertly by some ugly fat bitch I could invite over to suck out a load if none of the hunnies are putting out. Not some queer. You’re gonna get punished for lying to us.”

“Damn straight!” Fisher said, giving a high five Hassan half-heartedly returned.

“Bet,” Dre agreed as he took a drink from his beer.

Danny just stared at me as though he wanted to eat me or kill me. Six to one, half dozen to the other.

I turned my gaze to the final brother. Sitting on the corner of the couch in a dirty Phish t-shirt and dirtier khakis, he was the tallest and lankiest of the bunch, and like Danny he’d been pretty quiet so far. Unlike Danny, he’d been giggling up a storm at the conversation. He had long dirty blonde hair and a sexy smattering of scruff. Based on his height and general stoner demeanor, I had a pretty good idea of which of the dicks I’d sucked was left.

“Hey dude,” he said, finally. “Great to meet you. I’m Trey Freeman, I’m a freshman from Sarasota, Florida, undecided major, I’m on the tennis team, and I was pledge 8. And I gotta say, bro, I never been with a guy before but I can’t wait to get back in that sweet throat of yours, if that’s cool.”

Once again the guys let out a peel of laughter. I even giggled myself at the totally off-track manner of his speech.

“Silver, how fucking baked are you?” Hassan asked between chuckles. Trey just shrugged and giggled boyishly. Once again I was left trying to guess the origins of his pledge name.

“*Long Dong* Silver,” Carson muttered to me, as if reading my mind.

“Don’t I know it,” I whispered back, feeling sassy. Trey had the longest dick I’d ever seen. Carson shook his head and cuffed me lightly on the back of my head.

“Alright boys,” he said to the room. “Like I said, I’m loaning my bitch to you for spring break. You’ve officially met him now, he’s already swung from each of your dicks, and you’ve had testimonials from me and Jake here about what he’s willing to do for you. Not to mention the videos you’ve all seen of Teddy in action.”

“Fuck yeah we have,” Dre said, and made a show off guzzling his beer. The rest gave out a series of catcalls and whistles. I felt like a piece of meat.

“Me and Jake are gonna go upstairs and have a little talk with the bitch. While we’re gone why don’t you guys figure out how you wanna split up his time? Cool?”

The guys agreed. Carson grabbed my arm and dragged me up and out of the room. Suddenly I realized what he meant: he wouldn’t be here. I’d be fully at the pledges’ mercy. I found myself terrified at the prospect of being left alone with five guys I didn’t know, without Carson there. This wasn’t what I’d bargained for. I thought I was going to spend a week serving my master. My stomach had dropped through the floor as they guided me up the stairs and into Jake’s room. As soon as the door was shut I turned to Carson.

“Sir, I don’t know if this is such a good–“

Jake twisted me around and slapped me hard across the face.

“Did he ask?” he demanded. “Did he? You said you were willing to serve. You said you were willing to do whatever it takes. You even told Conway you wanted to be pushed further. You want access to Delta dick? This is what that looks like, faggot!”

He slapped me again, then walked over to his desk and poured a couple of Scotches, and handed Carson one before slumping down into his armchair. I collapsed to the ground and looked up at Carson with pleading eyes. He returned my gaze with a hard stare.

“He ain’t wrong,” he said, sitting on the edge of Jake’s bed.

They both stared at me for a long moment. Clearly, my reticence was a major disappointment. And seeing that disappointment, especially in Carson’s eyes, killed me.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, my voice quivering, tears beginning to form in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t know those guys, and if you’re not here…”

Jake let out a loud sigh, and rolled his eyes. Carson stared into his drink for a second, looked at me, then handed me the glass.

“Calm your nerves,” he said.

I took a sip of the Scotch, and then another. As the warmth of the booze spread through me, I did feel more relaxed. Emboldened, I threw back the rest. It burned as it went down.

Carson smiled gently.

“Look,” he said, and then directed his glance toward Jake. “Maybe we didn’t go about this the right way. Let’s take a step back.”

He and Jake exchanged a significant look. I saw a struggle for power between them, the conflict between Carson’s ownership of me and Jake’s precedence in all things. I’m sure there was much more to their dynamic that I couldn’t possibly understand. Finally, Jake shrugged and tilted his glass, then began unbuckling his belt.

“If you’re gonna go easy on your bitch,” Jake said. “Can I at least get some dome while you do it? I haven’t nutted in like 3 days.”

“Of course, bro,” Carson replied. “No need to ask. You know what’s mine is yours.”

Jake pulled his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and spread his legs wide. His big uncut dick was already half hard. I crawled in between his legs and began to worship it, wary of his simmering anger. His dick tasted ripe as fuck, like it had been marinating in his undies all day–which is to say, delicious.

“So here’s the thing,” Carson continued. “Jake’s been trying to–what’s the word you used?”

“Normalize,” Jake muttered, eyes closed, enjoying the blowjob.

“Right. He’s been trying to normalize having a faggot to serve us guys for a few years. I saw the light pretty early on, he took me under his wing, and now you’re the beneficiary of that. Seems like a good arrangement, right? You’ve been fucking enjoying it. I know I have. But most of the other brothers are too narrow-minded to see the advantages of an eager fag slut. They’re either too wrapped up in the idea it’s gay or too big of pussies to man up and take what’s rightfully theirs. So when we watched how certain guys stepped up during the Manhood Test, we both thought, here’s an opportunity to expand the circle of like-minded brothers and hopefully make it so we didn’t have to hide our extracurricular activities from the frat. Make it better for everyone, you feel me?”

“Yes sir,” I said in a small voice after spitting out Jake’s now-erect member. “What do you mean, watched?”

They both chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” Carson said. “We only had a camera on the pledges’ side of the gloryhole. To make sure they didn’t cheat or fuck with you.”

“Not that some of us wouldn’t have minded watching *you* put on a show too, faggot,” Jake said. He pushed me back down on his cock and used his hands to gently guide me up and down. It was hard to listen to someone and give good head at the same time, but I did my best.

The fear that had overtaken me was slowly dissolving, especially as Jake’s hostility seemed to wane. Getting your dick sucked tended to do that to a man. I was still worried about what they were expecting of me, but as Carson gave his explanation, I was beginning to see that this wasn’t some casual decision to pass me off to the younger brothers, but rather a step in some larger plan they’d been cooking up.

“Anyway,” Carson continued. “We had to tell the rest of the brothers the plan for the Manhood Test, so we knew it would eventually leak to the pledge class that they got their dicks sucked by a dude. Then we just sort of watched as the chips fell, and discreetly approached the five guys you met downstairs. Between their performance with you and their reaction to the reveal, they seemed the most likely to be fellow travelers.”

“Even my fucking brother,” Jake said with a derisive grunt as he held me down on his dick, impaled to the hilt. I did my best to breathe through my nose but couldn’t help but gag, as I knew he wanted. Finally, just as I was about to pass out, he let me up. I gasped deeply.

Carson laughed at my predicament. I’d been trying to watch him out of the corner of my eye, and noticed his own bulge had been steadily growing as I blew his frat brother. I was hoping I’d get a chance at that tonight, too.

“Jake’s just pissed to learn his little brother’s got a bigger hog than him,” Carson said with a chuckle.

“Whatever man. He’s still a pussy,” Jake said, then stood up and began fucking my face with deep, violent strokes. “And I’ve still got more meat than you ever will, bro!”

My nose was hitting his pubes, and his big hairy balls were slapping my chin with each wild stroke. After a few more thrusts, he buried his monster deep in my throat and began blasting his load with a satisfied groan. His dick was so thick I could feel each pulse as Jake fed me his kids. I felt so used, and I could tell my own dick was absolutely dripping precum into my CKs.

Once he’d finished nutting, Jake pulled out of my mouth and collapsed back into his chair, breathing hard. His dick was still mostly hard, red and angry. His foreskin was pulled back, and I watched in fascination as he began to shrink and it slid back over his head, all on its own.

“Thank you sir,” I said to him. He grunted in acknowledgement.

Carson had pulled out his own dick and was lightly stroking it. It was still crazy to me how casual these guys were about sex around each other. I crawled over and took him right into my mouth.

“See bitch,” he said, smiling down at me. “This is what I’m talking about. You don’t even have to be told what to do. You just know what I want and you do it. You’re a good little bitch boy. I appreciate your service. So when I’m in Cancun with the boys next week getting absolutely lit and piping every sorority slut in the Big 10, I wanted to make sure you were getting all the dick your faggy little heart desires.”

“Frankly, he should be fucking thanking you,” Jake interjected. I heard him typing on his laptop.

“You really should,” Carson said with a grin as he bobbed my head up and down on his perfect cock. He pushed me off.

“Thank you so much for thinking of me, sir!” I said. As I spoke, I realized the decision had been made, but I still needed some assurances if I was going to put myself in such a vulnerable position. “But can I ask you a few questions?”

Carson pulled me back onto his dick for about six more vigorous thrust then pushed me off again.

“Try me, fag.”

“Well sir,” I began. “For one, why aren’t those guys going to Cancun?”

“Oh right, that,” he said as he pulled me back onto his dick. I was in heaven getting so much cock. “We have a tradition that the new pledge class has to spend their spring break doing some sort of major improvement to the house. My class built all the pong tables last year.”

“And mine had to refinish all the fucking floors downstairs,” Jake added, resentfully.

Carson laughed. “That would have sucked. But yeah, this year’s pledges are gonna tear down and rebuild the back deck. It’s falling apart. So the whole pledge class will be around, partying, bonding, and working on the deck. They each get to stay in their Big’s room all week, and we’ve got a bit of a don’t ask-don’t tell situation going on with you. You won’t have to hide from the others, but I’d keep the fun behind closed doors.”

“And they’re *not* allowed to use you as free labor,” Jake said. “They try to get you to work on that deck and I’ll fucking kick their lazy asses out of the house.

“Right, you’re only here for one kind of labor,” Carson said with a laugh. “All dick, no deck. Plus, I’ve laid out some ground rules for them.”

And as he told me each rule, he held my face down on his cock, his blonde pubes tickling my nose.

“Rule #1, keep it discreet. No pics or vids, unless there’s something I wanna see. Nothing public. Doesn’t have to stay in the house but don’t get caught.”

He let me up for a breath. I nodded, and then he plunged back in. Drool was dripping down my chin.

“Rule #2, don’t involve anyone else. None of the other pledges, no one. You’re my bitch out on loan. They don’t have that privilege. They’re deciding right now how they wanna split up your time and that’s up to them, but no one else gets a piece.”

Another breath. I nodded again. Carson seemed to be enjoying this. His dick was hard as iron. I dove back on it.

“Rule #3, they gotta return you to me in good condition. Nothing crazy or extreme, no blood, no shit, no damage to you. They can use and abuse you as hard as they want but at the end of the day you’re still a person. Pathetic and insignificant, yes, but still a person. You’ll get time to recover, eat, sleep, study, that sort of thing. In between being boned down left and right. So…”

He pulled out again and began smacking me across the face with his hard cock. My spit and throat slime, and his precum, splattered on me. I took it like a good bitch.

“That better be good enough for you. If not, fair enough, but this is the last time you’ll see this dick.”

My jaw, which was already sore as fuck from fitting two giant Delta dongs in it, dropped to the ground.

If I’d felt nervous before, this was something else entirely. I couldn’t let it happen.

“Please sir, please! I’ll do whatever it takes! I’ll service whoever you want! I’ll do anything, just please don’t do that!”

I could feel tears swelling in my eyes. To have the best thing in my life torn away was a pain I couldn’t bear. I surprised even myself with the depth of the despair I suddenly felt.

“Oh look, bro,” Jake said. “The faggot’s crying.”

He laughed, a hard, cruel laugh. Carson just stared at me, impassive, still stroking his huge wet cock.

“So,” he said. “You’ll do it?”

I gulped. I had made my decision long ago. But he needed to hear me say it.

“Yes sir. I’ll serve them for all of spring break. I’ll do whatever they want.”

Carson broke out into a broad, genuine smile. He looked at Jake.

“See!” he said. “My bitch knows who’s in charge.”

Jake shrugged.

Carson was stroking his cock and occasionally slapping it on my cheeks. I tried to get it back in my mouth, but he kept pulling it away.

“You wanna taste this load, faggot?”

“Yes please sir!”

“I don’t know,” he said, skeptical. “You haven’t been a very good boy today. Only good boys get this cum. What do you think bro, should I give the faggot my nut?

“Nah dude,” Jake said. I swiveled my head to him; he had a rictus grin on his face. “I don’t think the faggot’s earned the right to taste your load tonight. I’m glad I busted mine straight down his bitch throat.”

“Yeah, I tend to agree.”

I was so confused. I’d never had to earn Carson’s load before. I’d swallowed dozens; it wasn’t a big deal not to get it. But something in that moment, at my most vulnerable, when I’d nearly lost him, made it so all I could think about was getting Carson’s nut.

“PLEASE sir!” I begged. “Please can I have your load? I’ll do anything for you. You know that, anything!”

I prostrated myself on Jake’s plush carpet and began kissing Carson’s feet desperately. Both boys laughed at my predicament, and I heard Jake whisper “Jesus.”

Hey bro,” Carson asked. “You gotta piss?

“Yeah, bro,” Jake said. “Why?”

“Open up, faggot.”

I climbed back to my knees, turned to Jake, and opened my mouth again. He stood up and loomed over me, the picture of dominance, then unzipped his fly and pulled his floppy soft dick out. Carson handed him his phone, and slung an arm around his shoulder. He was still jerking his cock with his other hand, and it was hard as ever.

“Hit record and give him a mouthful, would ya?”

“You got it man.”

I heard the video start. Jake pulled back his foreskin. His cock head was red and glistening. Suddenly, a stream of piss shot out and hit my face, and then found its way to my mouth.

“Don’t swallow yet,” Carson commanded. I could see a dangerous mix of emotions in his eyes: lust, anger, power, and so much more.

I let Jake’s piss fill my mouth, and he cut it off before it overflowed. I waited for my next command.

“Gargle,” Carson said.

I gargled with the acrid liquid, feeling it bubble up in the back of my throat. If I hadn’t been so practiced at taking Carson’s piss by now, I probably would have gagged.

“Swallow.”

I did, and quickly thanked Jake for his piss. They both snickered at me.

“Pathetic,” Jake said.

“Again,” Carson said between laughs.

Jake gave me another mouthful. This time I was ordered to swish with it before I swallowed his urine down. Then another, more gargling, and another, more swishing. Finally, Jake announced his tank was running out, and filled my mouth about halfway with the last of his piss.

“Alright bro, make sure you get this,” Carson said. He began jerking himself hard, stroking his slick cock head and aiming it at my open mouth. He was biting his lower lip in concentration, looking so sexy it hurt to watch. Then, with an athlete’s aim, he came right into my open mouth.

“Fuuuuuuck yeah!” he groaned as he nutted.

I could hear, and feel, the cum splashing into Jake’s piss. Every drop found its target. None hit my face, my lips, or my tongue. I wouldn’t get to taste his load after all.

Carson squeezed the last few drops from his dick, then put it back in his sweats. He grabbed me by the jaw and examined his handiwork.

“That’s nasty, bro,” Jake said, grinning ear to ear and still filming. “Look at your jizz floating in my piss. Nectar of the gods right there. So fucking gross!”

Carson didn’t respond, just stared into my mouth like a dentist examining your teeth.

“Swallow,” he commanded.

I swallowed the unholy mixture of their liquid donations in a couple of gulps, then opened my mouth again to show it was done. Carson seemed satisfied.

“Do a good job this week,” he said. “Or that’s the last load of mine you’ll ever get.”

***

They let me clean up in Jake’s en-suite, then Carson and I headed back downstairs. The new brothers had sparked up a joint and were passing it around, laughing at a joke someone had made. When they saw us enter, they fell silent.

“Alright boys,” Carson said brightly to the room. “The faggot’s got his marching orders from me. I’ll leave you to it. Have fun!!”

He turned to leave, and as he shut the door I saw a familiar look in his eyes: don’t fuck this up.

I turned back to the pledges, and without thinking dropped to my knees. What I saw before me were five sets of eyes, hungry, eager, ready to show the world what alphas they truly were.

I gulped, then opened my mouth.

“Hello sirs. How many I be of service?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

---

UP NEXT: Teddy has five new masters to serve. Can he make it through spring break in one piece?

When the internet finally reached us here in Africa, it was slow and exorbitantly expensive. Nowadays it is only a fraction less expensive, but still frustratingly slow. Because of this, the only time I could check out hot and exciting porn on the net was when I finally was alone at work after everyone else had gone home. Like so many other inexperienced surfers, I battled to find the right sites. Most were pay sites and there was no way I was giving my credit card details away on the net. There were constant pop-ups and sometimes it became so bad that I had to switch the pc off to stop the pop-ups. I did however finally get a tip from our IT guy (I am sure I often left tell-tale signs of what I had been doing on the net).

At last I could surf and perv to my heart’s content. I was very inquisitive, naïve and extremely hungry. I was turned on by almost everything I found (but I do not like illegal porn, scat, pain, rape – I prefer when all involved are enjoying themselves willingly). There were teenies, young women, mature women, grannies, 3somes, orgies, groups and so forth. I obviously also stumbled on some gay porn, but I made a berth around this (I was initially not interested).

At first I did not notice, but the pictures focused largely on the women being totally exposed. Cameras would zoom in on their orifices. This focus extended to scenes where the women were depicted showing how much they enjoyed servicing hard cocks. Snapshots showed them with cocks on their foreheads, cheeks, tummies, in their mouths, in their beautiful cunts or arses and mostly in their hungry mouths. I couldn’t help but wonder whether they really enjoyed it. For some or other reason I started to wonder how they felt when doing this. This now got me wondering if I would smile as broadly if I had a cock in my mouth and cum all over my face. I was repelled by the thought, but could not stay away from the porn site my IT friend had shown me.

I stopped worrying about what the women thought and looked at hardcore porn, wishing I was the one getting serviced. I was single and had not gotten laid in months. I furiously wanked off to these scenes and left load after load after load on the office floor. I wonder if anybody noticed. I am sure a few of my colleagues must have known that I surfed loads of porn.

As I surfed, I discovered an advert for an adult “dating” site. They claimed to have willing and available women in my area – yeah right! Obviously I could not resist and eventually signed up. It was extremely difficult to make up a profile, but I managed to get the basics loaded and had a look around. I was quite surprised that there actually were a few people from my area. Almost all were men seeking sex – figures! Some married guys were even seeking action with other men. This was not what I was after, but I felt better knowing I was not the only one in this one-horse-town that was desperate.

My fav site was getting a little lame after a few weeks. I must have looked at just about everything they offered. The only pages I ignored were the gay and tranny pages. Out of a mixture of boredom, curiosity and admittedly even some intrigue, I ventured in and at first was uncomfortable. It was only after I discovered some truly stunning gurls that I became more curious. I could not help it, but I was actually starting to enjoy this.

Days went by with me surfing and jerking. I still looked at gorgeous women indulging in blatant unadulterated hot steamy sex, yet, as time progressed, I found myself sneaking more and more onto the tranny sites. Now I was having fantasies of having one of these women and having hot sessions with her. I slowly started yearning to taste a clit like theirs and progressively my hunger and obsession grew. I live in Africa and there just are no she-males or trannies here, but I wanted to taste a pussy on a stick! Slowly I accepted that I had a hunger and that a guy would be able to satiate my curiosity.

I started frequenting the “dating” site more often and soon got hit on by people from abroad and even by a few from where I lived. One chap who lived in the same town as I offered to educate me. It took me a long time to finally meet Dave to try my hand at pleasuring another man. I had fantasized about this so often. Our first meeting resulted in me having a few whiskys and nothing happening. We promised to meet again and this time around Dave wasted no time and went straight for my crotch. Before I knew it I had a guy blowing me. It felt really good. Knowing from experience that I lose interest after I have ejaculated, I stopped him. I need to return the favour before that happened and I chickened out.

So there I was in my bedroom with a naked fella I hardly knew. I tentatively reached out and touched his semi erect cock. No thunder and I certainly was not struck down by lightning. It felt nice to hold his manhood. I bent forward and unobtrusively took a sniff. He was clean and did not in the least smell unpleasant. I lifted Dave’s cock up and lowered my lips over his helmet. Well, no turning back now. I remember that my legs felt like jelly, my stomach fluttered at the knowledge that I was doing something so taboo, so frowned upon in this community. Here I was with another guy’s growing cock in my mouth. It was not dirty. It was not disgusting. It was fabulous. I love having my cock sucked and at last I was experiencing what it felt like on the other end. This was awesome!

After some sucking and jerking he warned me that he was about to explode. This was a threshold I was not yet ready to cross. I let him slip from my mouth but not from my grasp. I continued to stroke him and he finally shot a large jet of hot, white cum in an arch over his belly and a part of my bedding. Knowing that my cock quickly turns sensitive after ejaculation, I just held him gently. He sat up and said it was my turn. I stood at the edge of the bed where he knelt in front of me. He sucked me off and I shot a huge load across the room.

Somewhat embarrassed and awkwardly we said our good-byes. We promised to stay in touch and that we would meet again. After he left I charged for the fridge and pulled out a beer. I downed it in no time. Then another and finally I settled on the couch in front of the TV with my third beer in fifteen minutes. I let the events of the past hour run through my mind.

I had truly enjoyed myself. I could smell his cock long after he left. I was hungry for more. I had just sucked my first cock and realized that I was desperate for more. I turned on the telly and watched porn late into the night while stroking my cock, licking my fingers clean until I had no liquid left.

By the time I went to college, I had a lot of experience, but only with a few men.  Once I was living in the dorms and surrounded by all those horny guys, that quickly changed.  It wasn’t difficult to find classmates that at least wanted their dicks sucked.  Within a couple months, my dorm room was being visited regularly by several horny students knowing I would happily swallow a their loads.  While I loved my frequent guests, my roommate had not been a fan of listening to what was happening behind the privacy curtain.  He didn’t mention it often, but would toss out some passive-aggressive statements occasionally.  He usually just put on headphones since our room was small with beds on either side and just the curtain down the middle.  My visitors knew to knock, I’d answer, and they’d go to my bed and pull out their cocks.

For the first few months, he only had to listen to some whispers, maybe some slurping, and my guest moaning since I would limit myself to oral while he was there.  There was a lot of fucking happening as well, but only when he wasn’t in the room.  I had a standing meeting three times a week with one guy while my roommate had class.  My roommate would sometimes go home for the weekend and I’d have the place to myself.  I would also meet older men online and go to their places.  This routine went on for months without much resistance from my roommate until one of my regulars decided in the moment that he wanted more.  He was a very athletic guy with a nice cock who I would suck a few times a week.  On a couple occasions when I had the room to myself, he brought over vodka and we’d drink a bit before we started fooling around.  I was the first guy he’d been with and a little liquor made him hornier than usual, so he wanted to fuck.  I have always been more than happy to help a man explore his sexuality.  Once he got a taste though, he wanted more.

One fateful day not long after our second weekend fling, he showed up to the room for a blowjob after he’d been drinking.  It wasn’t unusual for him and I had no problem giving him what he wanted.  My roommate put his headphones on and I got to it.  I sucked my guest for about five minutes before things took a twist.  He stopped me and told me he wanted to fuck.  In a whispered conversation, I told him I couldn’t with my roommate around, but it didn’t take much for him to convince me to make an exception.  We quickly stripped, I put a condom on him, and I found myself on my stomach with this stud on top of me.  It didn’t last long.  He was inexperienced and was just happy to have a tight hole to fuck.  What I wasn’t expecting was how loud he would get when he orgasmed.  It was a series of “yes” and “fuck yes” followed by several “I’m cumming!” declarations before he shot his load.  He got dressed and was out the door after getting what he wanted.  Little did I know that my roommate was listening to the whole thing.

I put some shorts on and pulled back the curtain so I could apologize to my roommate about the noise.  I was expecting some snide comment, but instead he joked that my guest really enjoyed himself.  As a natural flirt, I could only respond by saying that they always do.  We turned the TV on and hung out for a while before the second twist of the day happened.  The show had a sex scene and I noticed my roommate touching himself through his shorts.  I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and joked that his girlfriend must not be taking care of him.  We didn’t talk about personal things much, so he informed me that she broke up with him a little while ago.  He had been quieter than usual, but I thought he was upset by my frequent visitors.  He was obviously horny, so I offered to give him some privacy while he took care of it.  His response caught me completely off guard.  He wanted me to suck him.  Apparently he’d been curiously listening to the many guys moaning and rationalized that it must feel pretty good if they keep coming back.

I told him to pull out his cock as I got on my knees next to his bed.  He laid back as I got started.  He was moaning almost immediately.  Before long, he was telling me how much better it felt than his ex.  He told me that he had been getting hard listening to my guests moan and that hearing the guy fuck me today had been hot.  Within minutes, he was pulling my head down on his cock and firing his load down my throat.  I gladly swallowed and licked his cock clean.  We went back to watching TV with smiles on our faces.  Our relationship had just taken an exciting turn, but the fun had only just begun.

Maybe an hour later, there was a knock at our door.  Another horny stud needed some relief.  I let him in, closed the curtain, and got right to it.  Knowing that my roommate was probably listening, I took my time and really tried to make my guest moan.  He fed me his cum about fifteen minutes later and was on his way.  I opened the curtain to find my roommate waiting for me with his hard cock in his hand.  I took the few steps across the room and hit my knees to suck him again.  This time he didn’t lay back and instead watched me work him like a pro.  He told me that he was hoping to hear me get fucked again.  That really got me turned on and I told him that he could fuck me if he wanted.  I was expecting him to say no, but after a few seconds, he hadn’t responded, but I tasted a dose of his precum.  I looked up at him while gripping his shaft and knew he wanted it.  I stood up, walked back towards my bed, opened the night stand drawer to display an assortment of condoms, dropped my shorts, and climbed on the bed with my butt in the air.  Seconds later, he was behind me tearing open a condom.

He wasn’t shy about what he wanted and told me that he had fucked his ex in the ass a lot.  With one hand on my lower back and the other holding his hard shaft, he lined up and pushed his cock into me for the first time.  As he slowly began thrusting, he told me that he had been jerking off thinking about me and some of my frequent guests.  Hearing the guy fuck me earlier really got his imagination going.  He sped up as he told me how great it felt and that he could see why my visitor had cum so hard.  I responded with some words of encouragement and told him that his cock felt amazing inside me.  As he went deeper, he said that his ex would complain during anal and he’d have to stop.  I assured him that I wanted him to keep going.  He wad the confidence of a man that had fucked a lot of ass which was a welcome surprise from the inexperienced guys I typically found on campus.  As he grew closer to climax, he asked what position I was in with the earlier guy and then told me to get on my stomach.

He mounted me and drove his cock deep with a strong downward thrust.  I could feel him grinding against my prostate almost immediately.  I figured he didn’t quite know the mechanics of sex with a guy, so I let out a moan and some words of encouragement for him to keep doing it.  My earlier fuck wasn’t consistent enough with his rhythm to push me over the edge, but my roommate was about to experience the involuntary tightening and shaking of my prostate orgasm.  This time I was the one starting to get loud.  I begged him to keep going and let him know I was about to cum.  He kept pounding me into the mattress with each thrust as I gasped and yelped.  I was cumming hard.

I could feel my hole tighten and my body start to shake as my eyes rolled back and jaw dropped.  He kept pounding away and let out some sounds of pleasure as well.  Another dozen or so thrusts later he let out a long “fuuuuuuck” and I felt his cock pulsate against my hole.  It was a magical moment as we orgasmed together.  As he stopped thrusting, I could feel his cock twitching while resting deep inside me.  He had me pinned to the bed as we both caught or breath.  He hadn’t even pulled out of me after our first time fucking and he told me that he was looking forward to doing it again.  Being a good bottom boy, I let him know that he could fuck me any time.  He made me promise not to tell anyone about or fun times, but he knew I wasn’t one to fuck and tell.  As he dismounted, I caught a glimpse of the condom dangling several ounces of cum from his half-erect cock.  Another satisfied customer.

I rolled onto my side to reveal my own sticky mess.  It was just another added to the smaller cum stains over the prior few days.  We chatted as we cleaned ourselves up.  He didn’t have any hang-ups about having fucked a guy for the first time.  He started asking me questions about my experiences, how long I’d been playing with men, and how many I’d been with.  We were flirting heavily for a while after that.  He said he was going to hang out naked from now on.  As we called it a night, we both went to bed happy.

Dorm life got a whole lot better after that.  My roommate would listen to me with other guys and it turned me on knowing he was there.  I started letting some of my visitors fuck me if they wanted to.  When they left, I would see if my roommate wanted to play.  Sometimes he would jerk off while I was getting fucked.  I helped him explore what it was like for me as well by finding a friend who I trusted to come play with my roommate a few times.  I gave him blowjob lessons and talked him through relaxing while getting fucked.  We would shower together sometimes and he’d wake me up to play if he was horny.  Everything that happened between us was our sexy secret.  I still made sure my regulars were taken care of.  We were roommates for another six months or so, but continued to hook up regularly for the following two years until he graduated and moved away.

I was 18, a freshman in college, and finally out of my parent’s house.  I intentionally went to a school some distance from my home town so I would have a whole new pool of men to choose from.  I’d also taken the initiative and had been chatting with several men in the area that I had met online.  Specifically, I wanted to find older top men who enjoyed group play.  I had been watching a lot of group porn and I was going to christen my move with an experience I would never forget.  Luckily, there was no shortage of mature men in a college town that wanted to fuck an 18 year old’s tight hole.  For about a month before moving day, I was talking to eight horny men.  I was seeing a couple guys in my hometown, but as the start of the semester grew closer, so did my excitement.  My regulars were not enough.  I was riding dildos and furiously jerking off several times a day.  I was ready for my first gangbang.

I moved into my dorm on a Tuesday and was busy with orientation events for several days all the while thinking of what fun Friday night was going to be. Of the men I had been talking to, six had committed to showing up and one volunteered to pay for a hotel suite for the event. We were all in a group chat and I was enjoying posting pictures, mainly of my ass, to entice them. A video of me riding a dildo until I orgasmed hands free was a big hit. A few would respond with pictures of their cocks and the spattered mess they had just made while thinking about me. The men coordinated what drinks everyone was bringing and I was instructed to bring some of my toys, be cleaned out, and to have my favorite butt plug in me when I arrived. We were all to bring recent test results as well. My request was that they all be dressed in business attire “because I mean business” (and suits are hot!).

I have a routine that I follow when I know I’m going to get fucked. That day, I spent twice as long as usually preparing myself. I carefully shaved all over to make sure I was totally smooth. I cleaned myself out several times just to make sure I was ready to go. Lastly, I slipped my medium butt plug inside me and got dressed. My backpack was filled with an assortment of toys and a large bottle of lube as well as some basic hygiene items. I double and triple checked everything. I wanted to be as ready as I could possibly be. My phone chimed and I was super excited to read the room number and that a few of them were already hanging out. It was time to go meet my soon-to-be lovers. I was smiling from ear to ear as I grabbed my backpack and headed for my car. Fifteen minutes later I pulled into the hotel parking garage.

I took the elevator up to the twentieth floor and walked down the hall. I knocked on the door and it opened after only a few seconds. I walked in to find five sharply dressed men with their eyes locked on me. I felt like a piece of meat and I was loving it. The suite had a large living area with three couches. Each man had their drink of choice in hand. They’d obviously been chatting for a bit and let me know that their test results were on the kitchen counter. I looked them over and found everything looked good. I added my page to the end for their consideration. I was handed a vodka and 7-Up to “help me relax” as the men made sure my pedigree was in order.

I had been facing the kitchen with my back to the living area for a few minutes sipping on my drink and talking with two men across the counter. When I turned around, I saw that one of my new friends was anxious to get the party started. He was sitting on a couch rubbing his erection through his trousers while staring at me. He motioned for me to walk to him and began unbuckling his belt. I put my drink on the side table as he unzipped his pants. I got on my knees in front of him and ran my hands up his inner thighs and one across his bulge against his right leg. He sat back as if to tell me to get started. Reaching into his pants I found he wasn’t wearing underwear and his cock required I pull up before it popped out. Seven stiff inches of cut cock stood at attention inches from my face. He had me pull his pants down to his ankles as he unbuttoned his shirt.

I leaned forward and began stroking him with one hand and massaging his large balls with the other. My lips wrapped around the head of his magnificent cock and my tongue started sliding down his shaft. I was in my own little world, but knew I was being watched. As I worked the first cock into my mouth and made him start to moan, the other four men circled around. The were sipping their drinks and tugging on their cocks as they grew harder. They talked amongst themselves about how good I looked with a cock in my mouth. I was in heaven and the evening was just getting started.

I heard the metal pinging of a belt buckle coming loose and I knew someone was pulling his cock out. A few seconds later, another belt unbuckled. I was about to be surrounded by five men with erections that would need attention. I was soon reminded that I was not in control. The man to my left called me “boy” and ordered me to stand. I instantly obeyed and was on my feet in seconds. I felt a hand grope my ass as the man behind me lifted my shirt to take it off. I was wearing tight jeans to put my butt on full display and was happy to see that it worked as another man’s hand groped my other ass cheek. The man to my right put his hand on the opposite side of my neck and turn my face toward him as he leaned down for a kiss. My boy hole was twitching with excitement against the girth of the butt plug that held it open. The man behind me leaned down and kissed me on the back of my neck as he reached around to unbutton and unzip my jeans.

My eyes were closed as the man to my right was still passionately kissing me. My hands found cocks on either side of me to stroke. My jeans were being slowly pulled down revealing my tight blue briefs. I was held up by several groping hands as I lifted one leg after the other and my jeans were fully removed. My kiss ended and I opened my eyes to see the man in front of me on the couch stroking his wet cock as he watched me being fondled. I glanced back to see the fifth man, who hadn’t been participating much, stroking his big cock with a smile on his face. He was definitely the largest of them, but they were all above average. The man behind me was close enough that I felt his cock smack my butt a few times in a teasing manner. They had all moved a little closer. They were complimenting me on my physique and tight butt as their hands continued to feel me all over.

I had cocks in both of my hands and wanted to test just how turned on they both were. I moved my loose grip so that my thumbs were rubbing the bottoms of the engorged heads of their dicks. Seconds later, my thumbs were slick with precum. I happily sucked the juices from each of my thumbs, but I wanted all of it, so I dropped to my knees and took one of their cocks into my mouth. I took him deep into my throat, tightened my lips around the base of his cock, and pulled back to milk him for every drop I could. I did the same for the second wet cock and then leaned forward to deepthroat the man on the couch. Shirts and pants were tossed aside as I took turns sucking on each of their cocks while stroking others. The man who had paid for the room seemed to be the natural leader of the group. He strongly suggested to the others that they each feed me their first loads moments before stating that he would start it off.

I turned my head to see precum oozing from the tip of his cock just a couple inches from my lips. He grabbed my skull and pulled me all the way down on him until I felt my lips press against his trimmed pubes. He held my head in place as his hips thrust only a couple inches forward and back. His cock throbbed and flooded my mouth and throat with his seed. I couldn’t help but gag a little at the sheer volume of the fluid being force fed to me. He was moaning to let the others know how good it felt as they gave their words of encouragement. As he finished, the man on the couch called dibs on being the next feeder. I barely had time to swallow the majority of the first load before the next man grabbed my head and pulled me down in similar fashion on his cock. One by one, each man grabbed my head and fucked my throat until they had all deposited their seed in my stomach. I licked each of them clean as their focus turned to refilling drinks. One of them got a towel for me to wipe off the excess cum and saliva from my face and chest.

We hung out for a while, all of them still naked and me in my briefs, and talked about how hot the buildup to that evening had been. We got a message from the sixth gentleman caller who let us know he’d be arriving shortly. We were all sitting on the couches and I couldn’t stop staring at all the daddy dicks that were calling out to be sucked again. I knew the night was young, but I couldn’t wait to feel each one of them fucking my willing boy hole. I couldn’t help but start stroking the cock of the man nearest to me. As his shaft began stiffening, he pulled me in for a kiss. It lasted a short while and when I pulled back, I noticed that a couple of the other gentlemen had joined in rediscovering their erectness. I knew what I wanted and I got the impression that I wasn’t alone. I quickly excused myself to grab my backpack and find the bottle of lube. I put it on the coffee table as an open invitation. I stood with my back to the man I had just kissed I slid my thumbs beneath the waste band of my briefs and slowly pulled them down as I bent over to present the jeweled stem of the butt plug that I’d been gripping down on the whole time. As I stepped out of my briefs and kicked them to the side, I spread my straightened legs and bent over with my forearms resting one the table.

He stood up and was feeling my butt seconds later. His cock grazed my leg as he leaned over to grab the lube. He lubed his cock while using the other hand to tug and twist at my plug. On the fifth pull, the girth of the plug popped out of my hole and the plug fell to the floor. His hand landed on my lower back as he took the few seconds to line his cock up and push forward. He pushed all the way inside me in one powerful thrust that made me arch my back and gasp with delight. The four other men just watched from their seats on the couches as I was penetrated for the first time of the evening. His eager pounding of my hole had them all commenting on how well I was taking it. My latest lover advertised to the others how great my teenage asshole felt. After a couple minutes, another man was lubing his cock and asking to take a turn. They traded places as if I was just a fuck toy to be shared around. I couldn’t have been happier.

The new cock was slightly larger and forced me open even more, but I took him deep and let out a long moan. He quickly confirmed the assertions of the first as if he was giving my fuck hole a rave Yelp review. The other three were soon ready to sample my goods as they each slow fucked me deep for a couple minutes each. The last was the largest and made me buck a little when he drove into my gut. He went hard and fast as if to prove he was the alpha. If those were the games they wanted to play, I was ready for them to battle it out all night. He stood me up with his manhood still deep enough that I swear I could feel my gut shifting around him. His arms wrapped around me and he began aggressively hammering my hole. The new angle and quickened pace had my prostate ready to burst a surprisingly short time later. I was gasping and could barely let out a loud “I’m cumming!” before my half-erect dick began spurting cum as it flopped around in front of me. My body convulsed several times as the undeniable evidence of my anal orgasm spattered on and around the coffee table. I would usually say that my sphincter tightened around the man’s shaft, but he was so large, I don’t think I could have.

As my orgasm was dying down, I was becoming keenly aware that my hole needed a break from his relentless assault and I began pleading with him; not to stop, but to finish. “Breed me, please!” “I want your cum so bad!” With some additional encouragement from our audience, he let loose. He didn’t slow down as he began pumping his seed into me. After only a few seconds, I could feel the resulting mess being spread around my hole with every thrust. His hand moved up to my throat. His grip was enough to ensure that I knew he was in control, but not enough to really choke me. His cock felt even larger inside me during his orgasm. He finished a short time after and allowed me to fall forward to lean on the table again. He backed up slowly and his cock popped out of my hole. It felt empty for a time and I could feel a stream of his seed running down my leg. As I was catching my breath, I was surprised to feel another man’s tongue licking my used hole. I reached between my legs to gather some of the escaping fluid and so I could taste the man’s semen again. I then started lapping up my own mess from the table.

The other men were all staring with glee while stroking their dicks. I certainly got the idea that some of them enjoyed watching as much as participating. My legs were starting to feel weak from being in the same position for so long. The man had stopped rimming me after getting as much of the treat from me as he could. I fell to my knees as he stood up and moved to my right. He was stroking his dick as it oozed some precum. He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and positioned his cock above my face. Another man moved to the other side of me so I had two hard cocks ready to shoot on me. They both erupted firing spurt after hot spurt against my smiling face. I was licking my lips as they finished and I couldn’t open my eyes. The man who had been rimming me knelt down and started licking the cum from my face and kissing me to share it with me. I was so caught up in moment that I barely noticed the knock at the door. Our final guest had arrived.

He entered to find us all naked, cum spatter all around me, my face and inner thighs glistening, and me wiping the cum from my eyelids so I could see again. My legs were still a little wobbly as I stood to greet our new arrival. He had his test results in hand and I approached while exchanging pleasantries. I skimmed the paper and put it on the counter with the rest. Someone handed him a drink as I directed him to sit on the couch. I explained that I had already swallowed a load from each of the others and I needed to give him the same introduction. I unbuckled his pants and pulled out his hard cock. I took him into my mouth and began furiously working him. He only lasted about a minute before I was gulping his load down like a champ. I stood and let everyone know that I was going to rinse off. One of the two men who had been watching and stroking as I was fuck and facialized follow me into the bathroom.

We walked into the large shower and he took control. He pushed me against the tile wall and lined his cock up with my butt a second later. He thrust into me and pushed me flat against the wall. It was obvious that I was his fuck toy in that moment and I was all about it. He pounded away using my hole for a couple minutes before forcing his seed deep into my gut. As soon as he was done with me, he pulled out and left the shower. I had been facing away from the door and hadn’t noticed that the other voyeur friend was watching us and patiently waiting for his turn. As he approached, he ordered me to bend over. His cock slid into me and his hands grabbed my hips. I braced myself against the wall as he used my hole in the same fashion as the man who had pulled out of me less than a minute before. Cum ran down my legs as he rammed my gut for a few minutes. He let out a dominating cry as he pumped his load into me. I turned on the water as he left the bathroom. I recall almost slipping on the pool of mess the two had left behind. I rinsed off for a few minutes, turned off the water, and wrapped a towel around my waste. I found my new friends drinking and chatting on the couches.

The newest guest had shed his clothes to join the others hanging out in the buff. It was hot to towel off in front of them with a dozen eyes watching my every move. I got a glass of water and drank it while we all flirted for maybe half an hour. I found myself between two men stroking both of their cocks slowly. I was absolutely loving having all those naked men staring at me. One of them came up behind the couch and leaned over to kiss me. His hand ran down my smooth chest and started fondling my teenage cock. The men on either side of me were rubbing my thighs. I was loving the attention as I continued stroking both of their cocks. The man who was kissing and fondling me moved around the couch and dropped to his knees in front of me. He took my half-erect boy dick in his mouth and began working me like a pro. I usually don’t care if I get sucked, but he was great at it and I was rock hard in no time. I couldn’t help but moan. Despite having swallowed maybe a thousand loads by that point, I had only been sucked off a handful of times. I knew this was going to be one of those rare times. I asked him to slow down, but he completely ignored me. Maybe twenty seconds later, I was gasping and moaning as he milked my boy cock for every last drop he could get. Once he finished swallowing my cum, he pulled me forward on the couch and lifted my legs.

He spread some lube on my hole and stroked his hard shaft a few times before ramming his manhood into me. He went hard, fast, and deep. My hands went to my side and gripped the couch cushion. For a few minutes, I was his personal fuck toy. He used my ass until he pumped his cum into me. He had garnered the attention of the others as well and when he was ready to pull out, there was another man behind him waiting with hard cock in hand. He flipped me over so my knees were on the cushion and head over the back of the couch. He wasted no time driving into me and my cum-stuffed boy hole was only absent of man meat for maybe ten seconds. He held my butt in place and thrust his hips against me over and over. One of the men next to me was stroking and started to fondle my limp dick while the other stood up and walked around the couch. He grabbed my skull and shoved his cock down my throat. I was getting pounding at both ends while my cock and balls were played with by a third. I was in heaven. It only lasted a couple minutes before my gut received yet another deposit of that special warm goo. The man who had paid for the suite wanted a turn next, but suggested that we move to the bedroom.

As I stood up, there was a flood of fluid that rushed from my well-used hole. I grabbed my towel to catch most of it as I hurried through the door and to the king-sized bed in one of the two bedrooms. Two horny men followed, the one who requested the move as well as the man with my saliva glistening on his cock. My next gentleman caller wanted to slow things down a bit. We stood by the bed and he pulled me in for a passionate kiss. He hugged me tight and lifted me off the ground for a few seconds while our tongues darted around each other’s mouths. Once my feet were on the floor again, he loosened his hold on me and moved a hand down my back, slid two fingers into my wet hole, and brought them up to my mouth. I tasted the combined cum of several men and then he kissed me again. He complimented me on my slim, boyish figure as he laid me down on the bed slowly. Not that he needed to, but he was really laying on the charm. He climbed on top of me and continued kissing me as he pushed my legs apart. He pulled away enough for us to lock eyes as he slowly, but powerfully pushed his cock into me. We watched the pleasure on each other’s faces as our bodies came together. The other man was sitting on the bed stroking his cock quietly. He just watched as my current lover kissed and slow fucked me for at least twenty minutes. By the time he orgasmed, I was starting to get a bit tired, but there was one more man who had been patiently waiting his turn.

He was ready to fuck. As my most recent sperm donor finished making his deposit and stood up to leave the room, my next donor took control. He flipped me over onto my stomach as he told me how hot it was to watch me taking so many loads. He climbed on top of me and began fucking me hard. He wasn’t going to last long, but he was certainly enjoying himself. He called me dirty names while bouncing me against the mattress with each thrust. My thoroughly used boy hole was gaping due to his relentless assault. I like that he kept calling me a slutty boy. A couple minutes later, he let out a dominating roar as he pumped his donation into me. He finished and left me lying on the bed while I caught my breath. I wanted to take a nap, but knew I should rinse off again first. I spent a few minutes in the shower, a couple toweling off, and then got under the covers for a power nap.

I must’ve been in a deep sleep because I woke up with two welcome guests in bed with me. One man was spooning me and I felt safe in his manly arms. The other was in front of me facing me as if we fell asleep staring into each other’s eyes. I had to have been asleep for a few hours and felt well rested. I wasn’t about to waste any more time with this group of gentlemen. It seemed easiest to test the waters with the cock that was closest to me. I reached my hand behind me to feel the soft cock of my big spoon in the hopes that he wanted to do more than just cuddle. I gently stroked him for a couple minutes as his shaft stiffened in response. Without any lube within arms reach, I decided to check to see if there was still enough juice inside me to work. I slid a finger inside myself and found a small gush of fluid which I spread on his cock. He was starting to wake up and his wet shaft grew in my hand. His arms pulled me closer as he kissed my neck. With a whispered “fuck me” he grabbed his cock and pushed it against my hole.

He slid his erection into me with a slow, powerful thrust and he began lazily fucking my cum-lubed hole. With that underway, I reached for the cock in front of me. He was already starting to get hard as he had been listening to me get the first man started and was now feeling the bed slowly shake. He opened his eyes and he moved in for a kiss. We made out for a few minutes as I stroked him and continued to get fucked from behind. Once the man shot his load inside me, I rolled over in order to present my ass to my next lover as the most recent left the room. The horny man wasted no time rubbing his cock in the mess surrounding my hole and then sliding into me. Once he worked it in a sufficient amount, he started pounding with a rocking motion as he held my hips in place. In a series of whispered thoughts, he told me how great it felt to fuck me, how wonderful I sucked cock, and how hot it was that I was into being with so many men. He then asked if I liked being choked which caught me a little off guard, but I nodded.

His hand moved from my hip to my throat and took a firm grip. His relentless thrusting quickened with his obvious increased excitement. He was getting into it and I wanted him to enjoy himself, but he was making me feel a little light-headed after a minute or so. My hands grabbed his wrist and fingers to fight him for a breath. I did manage to get a good gasp in, but the struggle only encouraged him and he was pounding me even harder. I was a pleasantly surprised with how much I was liking the experience as well. I was so focused on him choking me that when I started to cum from him grinding my prostate, I started gasping and bucking my hips against him. He knew exactly what he was doing. As my hole involuntarily tightened around his shaft, he let loose the animal within. His grip on my throat tightened and he pounded my ass like he was tenderizing my insides. My body seized up under his control and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He pumped yet another hot load of man juice into my willing hole. With several wet spots on the bed, it was time to join the other men.

After toweling off some of the mess, I made my way back into the living area. Two of my new friends had left during my nap, leaving four total, the two that had just fucked me and two that had been watching TV and drinking for the last few hours. The one who had just bred me got dressed and said his goodbyes after thanking everyone for a wonderful evening. The financier of the suite excused himself to the yet unused bedroom and suggested that I join him once the other two had left, but no rush. The other man who had been hanging out with him while watching TV stated that he wanted another turn before leaving, but he wouldn’t be long. I was bent over the back of the couch minutes later while the remaining man sipped a drink and relaxed. I was getting split open again by the largest cock of the six, but this time I was loose enough to just let him do what he wanted. He went deep and hard for several minutes while commenting that I definitely felt used, but that I was still pretty tight. He had to slow down after a bit and I figured the alcohol was taking a toll. He didn’t stop until he finished though and he dumped yet another huge load inside me.

By the time I could stand up again, the two remaining men were getting dressed. We exchanged pleasantries and said goodnight as I toweled off yet again. I joined my last friend in the bedroom where he held me as we both fell asleep. I woke up before him and decided I’d start his morning off right. I ducked under the covers and started sucking his soft cock. It didn’t take long before he was getting hard and I felt his hand on my head. He used my mouth and throat for a few minutes and then tossed the covers off and told me to lay down. He mounted me and pushed his cock into my used hole yet again. As he slow fucked me, he asked if I’d enjoyed my time with the six of them. I thought about how incredibly hot it had been to live out my slutty fantasy. I had taken loads from six different men in my mouth and ass one after another. The man currently inside me was getting even more turned on as I let him know what a great time I’d had and that I would definitely like to meet up again. Once he finished, I got dressed and was on my way back to my dorm. I grabbed my things on the way out and realized that we hadn’t even used the toys I’d brought. They were all just too horny for such foreplay. I didn’t mind at all.

We kept the group chat open and all stayed in touch. I met up with each of them individually and small groups somewhat regularly for the next year or so. They loved having a horny teenager eager to please them and I loved their enthusiasm. I was seeing lots of other men during that time, but I will always think fondly of those six in particular.

The afterglow of sex with Strand was probably the best thing about having sex with Strand. The heaving, sweaty, primal pounding he threw into me was the set up for a long, deep sleep as my muscles recovered from the different contortions and acrobatics his fucking put my body through. When he was done, sometimes he would stay inside me until he caught his breath. Most of the time he would roll off me, panting and sweaty and mumbled little comments about what a great fuck I was or how hot I am.

Last night was one of those nights. He finished inside of me, rolled off and fell asleep. I was glad because after that violent romp, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it. I wanted to sleep.

This is the best thing about business trips, the sex. My job takes me out of town often at least, once a month. I leave the wife and kid at home and I take a short flight to the next state over for a week of meetings, lunches and fucking. You see, I’m really into younger guys, muscular guys, athletic and masculine and this particular town I travel to most often is a college town. College town means horny frat boys and horny frat boys mean hot hook ups where I get fucked silly. It’s the only time I can get away, hook up with a hot, college jock and get my brains fucked out and no one will ever find out back home. I get to release my outer persona of a hard-ass, control freak boss and let someone else take control.

I’m older but I’ve found a regular horny frat boy who loves to fuck older guys. I’m different than most dads out there. I’m still hot. I work out and that attracts young studs like Stand. It’s more of a dominance thing for him. I think maybe he has daddy issues or authority issues or both. All I know is he likes to get on me and load my ass up with as much cum as he wants. I give him a key to my hotel room, and I tell him to stop by whenever he wants and stay as long as he wants. The kid is fucking hot too. He’s shorter than my six-foot-two, probably around five-foot-ten. But he’s a wrestler. He’s built, ripped and strong as an ox for his size and he’s cocky, confident and alpha. All that compensates for his height. Besides, having a kid that young and smaller than me drilling into my muscular butt is fucking hot.

I have the best dreams on the nights Strand would abuse my body and my hole. Sexy dreams filled with an element of kink that sneaks in like leather, bondage, threesomes, gang bangs. He thinks it’s sexy and tells me he thinks it’s all hot. I even told him about a rape fantasy once and it got him hard. My biggest fantasy was to have two boys like him rape me and use me. That’s what fuels my dreams and when I’m back home it’s what I think about when I’m fucking my wife. And I love the fuck-talk Strand hissed into my ear; the names he called me; slut, whore, bitch, daddy. He growls into my ear and says I’m a hot dad, he asks me if I want it rough or gentle. He likes to talk about the fantasies he wants to help me fulfill while he thrusts in and out of my tight hole. Whatever I last remember hearing or feeling before sleep was the fodder for my dreams.

Tonight, I was having one of those dreams. I dreamt I was being taken from behind while sucking the cock of some faceless musclebound jock boy. Being spit-roasted was a huge fantasy of mine, one I’d shared with Strand many times. He said someday it would come true and he would be there to see it.

The dream was so real. It was as if I could actually feel his cock pushing against my tight pink hole. It was painful but I flexed my ass to accommodate his girth. The pressure against my ass became intense and suddenly I stirred awake with a scream.

With the pain of a sudden thrust into my hole, I felt the weight of him on my back, one arm wrapped around my throat. I was shocked out my hazy awakening realizing Strand was fucking me in my sleep. The fact that he took me when it was convenient for him with no regard to my wishes or my being conscious was a huge turn on for me. That’s the way he is and that’s the way I like him. However, it was a new maneuver for him; fucking me while I was still asleep. I could just imagine him waking up, looking over and seeing my long muscular body laying ass up, and thinking what a great ass it is, and he just needed nothing more than to fuck it right then and there.

The sudden penetration had made my eyes shoot open and my head jerk up off the pillow. I screamed out in pain, but his hand clamped over my mouth making my screams come out muffled. My first instinct was to push myself up, but he wrapped his powerful arms around my chest, pinning my arms and pushing me down on the bed face first. He didn’t start slow; it was a rocket blasting straight into my gut. I struggled but he was stronger which caused some alarm as I was taller and twenty pounds heavier of thick muscle. I thought I was stronger even though he too was comprised of thick, hard, athletic muscle. Obviously, his compact smaller body was stronger than it looked. Maybe it had something to do with him being fifteen years younger than me. Youth has its advantages.

Still, even this felt a little brazen for a frat boy, a clan notorious for date rape or just rape in general. I guess I asked for this. I wanted a much younger alpha, one with strength and power enough to handle my powerhouse body. Being fifteen years older, married and a father of two didn’t stop me from maintaining my former college athlete’s physique. It’s what attracts men of Strand’s caliber. No dad-bod for me.

Strand continued his assault on my bulbous ass. I was still struggling but his arms were like steel bands around my torso. This was as rough as he has ever been with me. His roughness was why I continued to see him. It was a must have for me. But this was by far the roughest he’d ever been.

My body was being shoved forward repeatedly and my legs were being splayed apart. While I was filled with fear, I was still aroused knowing I could have been taken so easily. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed his cock had grown in size.

It was then I looked out the corner of my eye and my heart dropped into my stomach. Strand was standing next to the bed stroking his hard erection. If he was standing there, who was inside me? That made me freak out and I struggled even harder than I did before. Who was on top of me? Who had their cock in my ass and who was so bold as to do it without my permission? It’s one thing to let a regular fuck buddy do this to me but a whole other thing for a total stranger to do it. My alpha side came to the surface to take over. I was in control of who knew about me and my extracurricular activities. I was beyond pissed and a hot fuck buddy or not, I wanted to beat the shit out of Strand. I struggled with all my might but still found it difficult to gain ground. Whoever was on me and in me was not having it. I was his to rape.

Strand picked up a t-shirt off the floor and stuffed it in my mouth.

“Fuck, Strand. Hot dad’s a fighter,” said the low gruff voice on top of me.

“Just keep raping that ass. Don’t let him fool you. He loves it,” Strand said reassuring my assailant that he was within his bounds.

I looked at Strand and tried to yell but all that come out were muffled words and grunts. I tried to push up and buck the guy off me.

“Stay down, fucker!” the voice said with a hard slam into my ass and a massive bear hug.

“No, let him fight it. It just makes it tighter for you, dude,” Strand said still stroking his eight-inch cock. He was smiling. Not a grin but a devious smile while he bit his bottom lip. It looked like he was watching his favorite porn movie.

“Damn, dude. You weren’t shitting me. He’s a fucking stud. You always find the good ones,” my fucker commented between grunts.

I was now groaning through the t-shirt stuffed in my mouth. I’m sure Strand could make out his name from my grunts. I was still trying to piece this all together; amazing sex last night, a deep relaxing sleep only to be shocked awake by an onslaught of cock raping my tender ass.

“Of course, dude. Fucking handsome, isn’t he? I know a fucking pussy boy when I see one,” said strand with a cocky sneer. “Don’t I, Kale?” he asked me with a wink.

I felt the arms squeeze me tighter and the body on top of me stopped, the cock injected all the way in. I felt a warm breath on my ear. I could feel his heaving chest on my back.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, dad,” the young voice said in a chuckle, gravely whisper. “You can only fight this for so long, dad,” he said the words with condescension, emphasizing the last word: dad. “But I agree with Strand, your shit it tight when you fight. Keep fighting me old man.”

They both laughed while I was being screwed very slowly, feeling the full effect of the huge dick burrowing through me. This slower movement felt good, felt more pleasurable. How long this would last, I didn’t know.

“Strand says your fine ass is married,” he said into my ear before a gentle lick to my lobe. “Big, straight muscle dad not getting what he wants from his wife,” he taunted. “You need your pussy filled with college jock cock to get off. Strand found himself a piece of prime-A ass. You are fucking hot for an older guy, you know that? Hot fucking dad pussy.”

His fucking sped up and again. I felt the heavy body on top of me take control and drill the ass under him. The guy had rhythm and screwed with the finesse of a stripper. The respite from the hard fucking before was only to give me a chance to recover before another show of force.

“Take this shirt out of his pretty mouth,” Strand commented as he pulled the shirt out of my mouth.

“Fuck you, Strand!” I roared out. “I’m going to fucking kill you?”

“Kale, don’t you fucking threaten me. It’s two against one, asshole. This is what you wanted, remember?” Strand snapped back.

“What?” I asked between deep grunts from the rutting my ass was experiencing. “I never said anything about this, you fucking bastard!”

“Yeah, you did, Kale. You told me you’ve always had a rape fantasy. You’re getting it,” Strand said with his hands out and a shrug of his massive shoulders.

I clenched my teeth and groaned from the jolt of electric power I felt in my ass like this guy’s cock was a lightning rod.

The second I had time to breath I said, “Fuck!” I screamed. “I meant roleplay between you and me, you dumb fuck!”

They both laughed again. “Oh. My mistake,” Strand said with obvious sarcasm. “You should have been clearer. I mean you did tell me that while your legs were over my shoulders and you were panting like a whore.”

My fucker laughed again while deep breathing. “No shit? Were you panting like a fucking whore, dad? Big dude like you, taking cock up your married ass.” I felt a slap along the side my head. “Your fucking kids would be so fucking disappointed if they knew you were like this. But it’s good for dudes like Strand and me.”

Strand kneeled down, rested his chin on the bed next to my face. His blue eyes twinkled as if he were having the time of his life. He ran a hand through my thick blondish brown hair, brushing it off my forehead. His tight-lipped smile told me I was there to do his bidding.

“You’re so fucking handsome, Kale. You know what makes me the luckiest guy in the world?” he asked as my top slowed down again. “You. I know how you like to please me. I know how much you like it when you use your body to make me happy. Well, you’re doing it right now. Seeing your stacked muscular body taking a hard fuck without your consent, well, that gets me the fuck off. I like knowing you’re this closeted, straight, married DILF with a jacked body who hates his corporate job, hates being the boss, hates to take control day in and day out so he steps out on his wife and finds what he needs swinging on the cock of a hot boy, fifteen-years younger and fifteen times more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

I listen, with tears in my eyes, not from the pain of getting raped but the knowledge that he sees right through me. I’m a piece of shit. I use my power and status to get what I want, to put on a show but I really want to just shed that fake existence and give total control to this boy who knows how to take it so well. How he knows what he’s doing at this young age is a question for later.

I crane my head back, finally seeing who has been fucking me. The guy was huge. This guy was hot! He looked to be Latino, Brazilian maybe. His muscles had muscles. He grinned pearly white teeth that seemed to glow in contrast to his tan complexion. He had a lantern jaw, a little scruff which I had felt earlier on my cheek. His jet-black hair was buzzed on the sides and faded into a thick crop of wavy hair. His neck was thick as were his muscular traps and his biceps were like softballs. He was just my type: young, hot, muscular and cocky. His thrusting had stopped, and he stay still inside me. I wanted to admit that it felt good, but I was feeling embarrassed and I didn’t want to give these two boys the pleasure of seeing me question myself, my masculinity, my choices.

“Now, my buddy Rush here is going to finish inside that sweet married dad pussy…”

Shocked, I blurted out, “Strand, NO!” I say as I try to dislodge the fat cock in my ass.

I turned my head back to Rush and tried to assert myself which must have been laughable in the position I was in. “Do NOT cum in me, asshole!” I warned Rush with fire in my eyes. “I will fucking end you!”

There was no way I wanted some cocky muscle head kid to spray my insides with his jizz. It was humiliating to be in this position against my will. Fuck, I probably would have let them both fuck me if they had just asked. But this was a violation above all violations; to cum in another guy’s ass without asking.

Rush laughed while looking at Strand. “Is he serious right now?” The expression on his face was one of sheer amusement that I would try and challenge it.

“Hey, Kale!” Strand said with a slap to my face. “I don’t think you want to say no to Rush. It won’t end well. I don’t think I could stop him if I wanted to, dude.”

My cheek stung from the slap. I don’t hate being slapped around but it took me by surprise. “FUCK!” I growled knowing I had no choice in the matter. “But I only want YOU to cum in me,” I pleaded with Strand.

“I know you do. That’s what makes this so fun,” he said with a cocky, devious grin. “Now, be a good bitch. You’re going to carry his babies no matter what. Struggle or not, he doesn’t care, Kale. Right, Rush?”

“Nope,” Rush confirmed.

Rush slid out to the tip and rammed back in. For a full two minutes his body slammed mine into the mattress, his huge cock filling my ass and I loved it. It was after that two minutes that his baritone voice roared loudly, reverberating through the small room and felt his cock expand and jettison a thick, hot load into my gut. Then another. Then another before pulling out, giving my ass a slap and stepping off the bed.

I lay flat, my chest heaving and still pissed. I slowly turned over and saw the glory that was Rush and his nineteen-year-old body. All six-feet-eight inches and two-hundred-twenty pounds of football muscle. I leaned back resting on my elbows, my asshole swollen and throbbing. I sneered at them. They could tell I was pissed but Strand knew me well enough that if I wanted to keep getting fucked by him that I would stand down. I had to.

Rush finally got to see me from the front, and he raised an eyebrow as if pleasantly surprised.

“Damn. You ARE a handsome fucker,” he commented before he raised a fist to bump with Strand. “Fuck,” he grinned at me not only for being hot but for also being up to his standards.

“I know, right?” Strand agreed with a proud look on his face. So proud of himself that he found a prize like me.

“I would never have guessed he was into dick,” Rush said. “He doesn’t look like any dad I’ve ever seen. I like his dad-pussy,” he growled and winked at me.

I rolled my eyes as I listen to them talk about me like I wasn’t there.

“Hey, I’m right here, dick head,” I said in frustration, cum leaking from my well-fucked hole. I hated the disrespect but the total disregard for my input was making me horny.

They both looked at me with amused surprise that I would be disrespectful to the man who had just overpowered me and could easily do it again.

“He’s my dad-pussy. Right, Kale?” Strand taunted.

I was still pissed. Half of me wanted to punch them, the other half wanted them to tag team me. Right now, my cock was still hard, and I was heavily leaning towards the tag teaming. I gave him a tight-lipped smile in agreement but also telling him I was embarrassed at the same time.

Rush picked up my dress shirt off the floor and wiped his cock off with it.

“Hey!” I tried to protest.

“Relax, muscle-dad,” Strand said to me with a condescending pat to the head.

“Strand, when’s the next time I can screw his ass again?” Rush asked as he eye fucked me.

Strand looked at me as if giving me a chance to answer but no. “Whenever I say you can.”

My face flushed red. I liked being controlled but I hadn’t anticipated being shared.

“Right, Kale?” he continued, “I mean, you’re here in town a couple of times a month so I’m sure I’ll get that itch to watch you bitch out for my buddy, Rush.”

The thought did make my dick hard. It was hard to miss when I’m sitting there naked.

Strand laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said nodding at my stiffening cock.

“Dad with a jacked body and a huge cock,” Rush observed with a devious grin, staring lasers into my eyes. I couldn’t help but get turned on seeing the hunger for my body in the boy’s eyes. “I need to find one like you. Constant deep fucks with a hard bodied older dude. Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Tell you what, I think we can work something out. Share him,” Strand told his hot buddy. “You know I like watching you fuck.”

“Dude, I’d fucking love that!” Rush said while he stroked his still hard cock.

Strand looked at me with his eyebrows raised. I looked at him, back to Rush and then back to

Strand.

I blushed and smiled. “I guess if Strand says it’s cool if you fuck me then I’m cool with it,” I shrugged.

Rush laughed. “Dad, you wouldn’t need to be COOL with it. I’m not asking your permission.”

My face fell as I realized I was stupid to even assume I had a choice. I was stroking my cock, horny, looking at Strand and Rush standing side by side, eyeing me like a piece of meat. Strand put his arm around Rush’s bulbous shoulders and Rush did the same to him. They pulled each other close as they stroked their hardening cocks.

“I think it’s time you show me how you fuck your boy, Strand,” Rush said.

That did it. My hole twitched and my knob leaked. The thought of being watched while Strand fucked me was something I never thought would get this much reaction from my cock or my ass. I suddenly was aching for Strand to mount me.

I rolled back on my back, lifted my ass and spread my legs, holding my ankles wide open.

“I think the hot dad agrees,” Strand said as he mounted my ass and began inserting his cock into my upturned waiting hole.

I had never been fixated by hairy guys. I liked hairy men, but it wasn’t a major issue in my life. I was a blond cub and enjoyed my modest furriness. The night I met Sas, however, a new era dawned as I met one of the hairiest men I had ever encountered. As I sat at the bar and observed him enter, my previous concepts of hairiness flew out the window.

Sas had a full head of short-cropped black hair. His black beard was also extraordinary, and the hair extended to an inch under his eyes. His eyebrows were thick and knitted seamlessly under his forehead in an unending strip of furriness. His beard extended into his neck without pause, and the polo shirt he wore did little to contain the overflow of fluff billowing over the V-necked collar. From the top of the short sleeves, his bushy forearms were coated by an abundance of fur extending down to his hairy knuckles.

Above all, Sas was incredibly hulky and handsome, and when he sat next to me, his dreamy brown eyes enchanted me as he looked in my direction and smiled. Sas was fuckin’ magnificent!

As a child, my mother’s sister had given me a huge teddy bigger than me, with a huge blue bow around his neck. I had adored that teddy and never slept without him until I was eight years old. In a re-enactment of my childhood, Sas was reigniting my prepubescent affection in a far more adolescent manner. An indescribable urge to lunge at him and cuddle him overwhelmed me.

Thankfully, I refrained from doing so and scaring the bejesus out of him. By now I had also gazed at his huge hairy hands that appeared on the counter, apart from gawking at the enormous boots encasing his feet. I had never felt so overcome with horniness in my life.

“Hi, I’m Sas,” he said as he looked at me. “My name is Gordon, but everyone calls me Sas… Because of all the hair… Sasquatch,” he unnecessarily qualified.

“Hi, Gordon, I’m Jeff,” I answered.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, extending the most gorgeous paw I had ever been clutched by. 

By now, I had decided to go for broke. “I think you are gorgeous,” I proffered.

As he chuckled, he answered, “So, you like hairy guys.”

“I don’t give a shit about that… I just think you are unbelievably handsome,” I countered.

“Really… That’s interesting,” Gordon replied, before adding, “So the hairy thing doesn’t matter to you?”

“No… Unless you need a good brushing,” I replied with a laugh.

Gordon burst out laughing before he jokingly asked, “So… Do you own a pet grooming service?”

“No… But Dian Fossey has asked me to make a sequel to ‘Gorillas in The Mist’ I countered, with a giggle, extending our humorous repartee.

“Mmm, I think I like you, Gordon,” Sas replied.

“Thanks… Buddy,” I answered.

“So, what else rings your bells? Shall we create a checklist?” Sas mischievously responded.  

“Why not?” I retorted.

“Lots of black hair?”

“Yeah,” I said smiling.

“Check. How about a bulky body?” Sas countered.

“Check,” I again replied.

“Big hairy hands and feet?” he suggested.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” I gushed. 

“Mmm, I never trim. Can you handle a hairy arse and crotch?” Sas questioned.

“Definitely,” I babbled, continuing to enjoy our salacious interaction.

“Okay… Well let’s have a few more drinks, and if you like, I can show you how amorous an adult gorilla can be. That’s if, you’re willing to take the gamble,” Sas chuckled. 

“I’ll take my chances,” I countered with a smile.  

After a brief pause, I asked, “What about your checklist?”

“Mmm, well… Small golden cubs are a delicacy to me. Eating and pounding their pink puckers stirs the beast in me. How tall are you and how much do you weigh, Gordon?” Sas concluded.

“Five-seven, and one-thirty pounds,” I replied.

“Well, I’m eight inches taller and almost double your weight. Do you think you can cope with falling into a horny gorilla’s enclosure?” Sas chuckled.

“Bring it on,” I bravely answered. 

“Mmm, you do realize that there’ll be no handlers with tranquilizers to save you once you’re in my clutches?” Sas teased.

“Thank goodness gorillas are vegetarian,” I jokingly retorted.

As our banter continued, I found myself becoming hornier and hornier. After what seemed like an age, we finally departed for my apartment.

Once there, Sas seemed very relaxed and laidback. As we sat in the lounge it almost felt like he was ‘torturing’ me with his unhurried approach. After reaching down and eventually untying his shoelaces, Sas slowly removed his shoes and socks before extending his legs and placing his huge feet on the carpet, and wriggling his fat hairy toes. Throughout, he observed my anxious horniness and appeared to be enjoying my lustful gaze.

My agony continued as he now placed his hand under his t-shirt and commenced rubbing his stomach. I watched with anticipation as his t-shirt moved ever upward, revealing the hairy stomach I had hoped for. Once the t-shirt had moved to under his moobs, his hand snaked downward and slipped into his tracksuit pants. Sas now gave his genitals a good groping.

As if to fuel my lust even further, he then lifted the groping hand to his nostrils and gave his fingers a good sniff.  I was almost peeing in my pants by now but refrained from giving him the satisfaction of me lunging at him like a randy whore.

My dilemma got interrupted when he suddenly said, “Take all your clothes off.”

With reciprocal spite, I did so very slowly.

By the time I got done, Sas’s t-shirt had been thrown aside and I got my first look at the hairiest torso I had ever seen. His chest, shoulders, and back, as I would soon see, was coated by long black hair.

After feeling like I had been in a slow-motion movie, the next bit of action happened in a flash. Moving with lightning speed, Sas got up and lifted me over his shoulder before scurrying off to my bedroom.

En-route there, goodness knows how Sas dispensed with his tracksuit pants and underpants.

After I got thrown onto the bed on my back, a ‘gorilla’ jumped onto me and commenced ‘manhandling’ me. I was fan-fuckin’-tastic.

As if being ravished by a hairy beast wasn’t pleasurable enough, the grunting as his hairy mouth conquered my lips and head was breathtaking. With my eager hands floundering in a forest of fur, I clutched onto him as if my life depended on it. What pleased me most, was that there was a clean odour of masculinity emanating from him.

“Have you got lube? Sas grumbled.

“Don’t bother with lube, just fuck me rough and raw,” I squealed.

This was somewhat of a white lie because whenever I prepared for a visit to the bar, I always made sure my arse was well-lubricated and ready for action.

As he grunted, Sas’s commenced fumbling at my portal as he tried to guide his dick into me. His entry was comfortable and soon a rhythmic undulation got underway. I had not seen his cock in the preceding melee, but I could feel that he wasn’t over-endowed. I had never been a size queen and this didn’t bother me.

Well-endowed men had never impressed me, and oral sex, which I loved, always proved to be arduous. A good, stiff, seven-inches was infinitely preferable to a ‘donkey-dick,’ that was impossible to accommodate in your mouth, and fifty percent of the time was as limp as a giant marshmallow.

With sixty-nine, being a favourite number of mine, Sas’s seven-inch uncut dick, as I would later see, was perfection. Besides, it is not the quality of the equipment that’s important, but the expert ‘hand’ guiding it.

What was about to follow, however, introduced me to a new concept of sex. Much as I had never thought of myself as a ‘sprinter,’ Sas would now commence training me to become a marathon runner.

As Sas fucked me, he frequently paused, whenever we became too excited.

After my first two inquiries, when I could feel his excitement escalating and presuming that I needed to start tugging on my dick, he asked, “What’s your hurry? Just enjoy the journey, buddy.”

I lost track of time as his hairy humping body, became slick with sweat.

After an age on our long-distant run, Sas surprised me by saying, “The longer you hold out, the sweeter the final triumph will be. You must learn to deprive yourself to enhance the final victory.”

Unfortunately, my balls didn’t agree, and I frantically began to crave relief.

Once Sas commenced moving his body up and down as he speared into me, my desperate hand sought out my twitching cock. As my hand got solidly slapped away, Sas barked, “Don’t you dare, don’t even think of it.”

I had never experienced such an accumulative lust in my life. My body was pulsating with horniness as it begged for release.

“Please… Please,” I whimpered.

In answer, my body now got shoved against the headboard before a mass of fur swamped my head as Sas’s cock traversed my lips and he commenced skull-fucking me. As I had imagined, the cone-shaped uncut dick was a snug fit. Drowning in fluff and clamped by powerful hands, I gasped as Sas raided my throat.

As my unlawful hands clambered for dick, I felt my two arms getting commandeered and imprisoned above my head. Once one of his hairy paws had combined to cage both of my wrists, the other paw clenched my hair to orchestrate his lengthy face-fucking episode.

The in and out head-banging session frequently got interrupted as Sas extracted his dick from my mouth, before a face and hairy cock smearing session ensued.

Relief finally arrived as my body got pulled onto the middle of the bed, before the horny gorilla pounced on my body in the sixty-nine position, and our exhaustive dash commenced. As Sas speared my mouth he also vigorously sucked my cock.

As my pent-up balls spewed with gratification, Sas rewarded me with the most spectacular ejaculation I had ever experienced. How I didn’t drown as torrent after torrent got propelled from his dick, I will never know. My mouth, throat, and, entire head was coated in the most heavenly slush I had ever imbibed.

With a chuckle, as Sas lifted, he said, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”     

“Jeez, buddy, you could supply an entire army with protein,” I said laughing.              

 Sas and I became lovers after that. His predilection for delayed-release became a significant feature of our lives. He would restrain me for hours on end, and torture me relentlessly before allowing me to cum. I loved it, and above all, his hairy body always drove me wild with lust.