Author: admin

  • The Escort

    This is one of my earlier stories. It’s all fiction, wishful thinking if you like. Simon


    I’m in the escort business. Yes. Say what you want, call me whatever you like, a slut, a prostitute, a fuck-boy, I’m still an escort and I love it for both the sex and the money, not to mention the adventure.

    I place ads in gay magazines, different ads with different names and different telephone numbers. This way I know what the guy calling me wants. I’m Chris for clean, vanilla sex. I’m Hugo for slutting. I’m Jack for hard, top sex. And I’m Daniel for company with older men. Since I am 22 years old, I can play all roles and I try my best to please my clients. Beside the escort role, I also advertise as a masseur.

    Last night my Chris number rang. Nice.

    “Hello,” a husky, deep male voice greeted me. “Is this Chris?”

    “Yes, it is. How can I help you?” I used my sweet, but masculine voice.

    “You have an ad for massage. How much do you charge?”

    I liked this. I appreciated the fact that this guy wanted everything clear right from the start. “It’s 50 dollars for a full body massage. That’s not including any extras,” I added, letting him know that I am open for more than the massage.

    He agreed and I gave him the address, telling him I was available. Around twenty minutes later, he was at the door. I had arranged the massage room nicely, with incense and soft light music and fairly dimmed lighting. I had put on loose, black satin shorts (sans underwear, of course) and a tight-fitting I-shirt, accentuating my lean body.

    “Chris?” he greeted me at the door. My first impression was very positive. The guy looked in his early thirties, conservatively dressed, fit, and handsome, with a light beard. I knew this was going to develop into an interesting evening.

    “Yes. Please come in.” I led him to the living room. My apartment has one living room, a bedroom, and a smaller room, which I use for the massages.

    “Would you like to drink something? Coffee?” I always like to treat my clients this way, to make them relax. This guy was quite tense and I could tell that this must be his first or second time.

    “Ummm…” he hesitated, a bit taken by my offer.

    “I have something stronger than coffee, if you prefer.”

    He lightened up and asked if I had any scotch. “Straight, would be fine.”

    I smiled and left to get him the drink. When I got back, he was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking skittish. I handed him the scotch and excused myself. “I need to make some preparations. Please make yourself at home and enjoy the drink. I will be back in a few minutes.”

    I knew that I had to give him some time to unwind and relax. And the scotch would be of great help. I waited for around ten minutes and returned. “I’m ready if you are,” I said with an encouraging smile and led the way to the massage room. Handing him a clean towel, I asked him to undress and I left the room. Again I waited for a few minutes. When I came back, he had the towel wrapped around his waist and was sitting on the edge of the massage table. He had a hairy chest, and I could tell that he was excited by the bulge tenting the towel.

    I had him lie on his belly as I prepared some oils. I took off my I-shirt, revealing my smooth chest. I noticed his look of approval as he turned his head sideways to watch me.

    Applying the oil on his shoulders and back, I started the massage standing at the side of the table. I moved slowly down his back noticing his bubble butt. Then I moved to the top of the table, and I started on his shoulders. I made sure my crotch as right at his head. Since I wasn’t wearing any underwear, my 22-centimeter dick (8.5 inches) showed a promising attraction inside the silk shorts, even soft. I wanted this guy for more than the massage but I didn’t want to scare him away by being too obvious either, just a tantalizing touch.

    As I worked his shoulder muscles, my crotch a few centimeters away from his face, I made him place his arms down on both sides. Every now and then, I would lean further down his back, my crotch almost touching his face. He was breathing hard and I noticed his humping. Then I moved over to the side and returned to the lower back. My crotch touched his arm, and I could feel him tense. Pressing just a little, I made sure that he felt my dick through the shorts.

    Very slowly, he placed his hand against my thigh. Since I didn’t move away, he was encouraged to start gently running his hand up and down my thigh. I was still not erected, but I also gently rubbed my crotch on his arm.

    Turning his head towards me, he murmured, “Is this included in the massage or is it going to be an ‘extra’?”

    “Don’t worry about it,” I said, putting more pressure on his arm, my cock starting to harden. “If you like what I’m doing, there wouldn’t be any problem.”

    He reached for my cock. Sliding his hand under the leg of my shorts, he felt his way up to my balls. As he got hold of my dick, I slid my hands under the towel and started to massage his butt cheeks. He was already moaning, his hand trying to measure my cock size. I could tell he was fully turned on.

    “Could you turn over?”

    The towel was tented hard when he lay on his back. I took his hand and placed it on my crotch encouragingly as I removed the towel to reveal a thick, cut cock, rock hard, pointing straight up. He rubbed my erection through the shorts as I massaged his inner thighs and moved up to his balls. In my role as Chris, I knew that what he wanted was a mutual blowjob. Nothing fancy: just to get off while sucking on my cock. I pulled down my shorts and kicked them aside, standing naked next to him, my hand now around his cock shaft. He immediately turned his face sideways and took my cock in his mouth. I let him nurse as I stroked his dick using more oil on the shaft and the head.

    The man was hungry. I fed him my long cock and he gagged and slobbered but never let go. His moans were getting louder with each swallow, as I gently inserted more of the shaft into his mouth. Moving my hand from his cock to his balls and into his crack, I massaged the area under the balls until he started squirming with desire.

    I wasn’t sure whether he was here for fucking also. Many of the men I serviced were satisfied with blow jobs. I needed to test and see if I should initiate something. As I inserted a finger into his hole, he started. “Sorry,” I apologized. “I thought you might enjoy it.” I immediately removed my finger.

    He let go of my dick for enough time to say, “It’s a first for me, but I think I’m enjoying this.” He squeezed my dick with his palm and licked at the tip. Bending over his laid-out body, I reciprocated by taking him into my mouth. I was able to go down the shaft all the way to the base. Flicking my tongue around the head as I worked the base with my pursed lips, I quickly brought him to the edge. When he shot his load, he actually bit my dick. I was glad that I was able to make him cum since I had another client for later in the evening.

    I pulled out of his mouth, my cock dripping with spit and some pre-cum, and wiped myself, cock and mouth. He lay on the table, breathing hard, eyes closed, all muscles tense. I heard him murmur, “Oh, my God, thank you, Chris, thank you, oh my God!”

    Excusing myself, I left the room to let him get hold of himself and prepare to leave. Around ten minutes later, he emerged, all dressed, with a just-fucked expression on his face. I felt a little disappointed that I didn’t get to fuck him. There would have been more money to make, and to tell the truth, I just loved to fuck.

    “Thank you, Chris. This was beyond my expectation.” I smiled. “I’m going to be in town for three days on business,” he continued. “Is it possible for me to see you again?”

    “Sure, ah… Mr…” I realized that I didn’t even know his name.

    “John. Just call me John.”

    Aren’t they all johns? I smirked internally. After all, Chris was not exactly my name either. “Sure, John. Just call me and we’ll arrange for something.” To me, he was CJohn, the vanilla guy, since he used the Chris phone number. This way I could tell one from the other.

    CJ took out his wallet and handed me a hundred. I made to get him 50 back, but he shook his head. “This was worth it, Chris. Keep the hundred.”

    “Thanks, John. I’m glad you liked the extra.”

    When CJ left, I was elated. This was going to be a lucrative evening and I might be able to buy a new smart phone.  Besides, I had a CJ client for at least two more days, and CJs were the easiest to handle, easy to be satisfied and always impressed by my equipment and my charm.

    My next client was a house call. This guy used the Jack telephone line, and I was glad that I hadn’t let go and shot a load into CJ’s throat earlier. It looked like it was going to be much harder work. Being a house call, I quoted 100 dollars for the massage without the “extras.” The address he gave me was one of the plush hotels. I had never been there since it was too expensive for my budget or the budgets of my clients so far. So I was excited about the date. I worried about how the hotel staff would treat me once I got there, in jeans and t-shirt, toting a backpack that contained my massage stuff. The man said that he would meet me in the lobby.

    I studied myself in the mirror as I prepared to leave after showering, to make sure I had the necessary rugged Jack-look that I was hoping would attract my client. The frayed jeans showed a nice bulge and the tight t-shirt outlined my abs and pecs. I applied some gel on my hair to make it spike a little, in a street-wise fashion. I needed to show a look of a hardened street guy ready to fuck. Inwardly, I wished I had spent more time in the gym developing my man muscles, but this would have to do. I was sure that as soon as my client viewed my equipment, all the other details would dissolve.

    I entered the hotel lobby under the stern stares of the doorman, who I felt was following me inside. A middle-aged man in slacks and buttoned-down shirt approached.

    “Jack?” he inquired and I realized that he had recognized the looks he was expecting.

    “Yes,” I said glancing sideways to notice that the doorman had retreated. “I’m here for the massage appointment.”

    The man smiled. Ignoring the beginning of white hair on his sideburns, I noticed that he looked quite handsome. I detected a bit of a pot belly under the fairly loose shirt, around which the pants belt strained. I was hoping that his wallet would be fat, too. In my business, I have serviced older, fatter men, not minding their out-of-shape bodies since they had shown so much zeal and appreciation in bed.

    “This way,” he guided me to the bank of elevators, stopping for a few seconds at the reception desk and sliding what I imagined some kind of bill over the counter to the man behind the desk, who surreptitiously pocketed the bill, nodded and smiled at my man.

    “You need to keep the staff happy,” he whispered to me as we approached the elevators. Inside, he said that his name was John. Of course, what else? So now in my mind, I filed him as JJohn as opposed to my earlier client, CJohn.

    JJ led me to his room. What was I thinking? Room? The fucking place was a full suite, larger than my tiny apartment, fantastically furnished, with a hallway, dining-sitting area, bedroom, dressing room, and two bathrooms, the main one with a Jacuzzi tub. There was also a balcony overlooking the waterfront with a breathtaking view.

    The guy walked over to the mini-bar and took out a bottle of wine. “Would you like some of this, Jack?”

    I nodded, trying to take in the place. So this was how the high class, money-laden people lived. Well, for my JJ, this was how he would soon be fucked: royally.

    Sipping at the wine, we stepped out onto the balcony. The suite was on the 19th floor, and I felt a bit dizzy with vertigo at this height. JJ stood beside me, close but not touching. With my free arm, I wrapped his waist and drew him closer. Even though I was much younger, probably as old as his son, I decided to take the initiative. I guessed that this was what he wanted by using the “Jack” number. He responded by pressing his hip onto my side and closing his eyes for a moment as I squeezed lightly on his waist. And, yes, I did feel the fat around his belly.

    “So, Jack, can I ask how old you are?” he said between sips of wine.

    I couldn’t admit to 22. But maybe he did want a young guy. Should I claim late twenties? Would this turn him off? I wouldn’t want to lose him as a client, not when he was so loaded. I decided to be enigmatic.

    “Old enough to be your escort, young enough to be great fun,” I said with a smile, watching his eyes.

    He stared at me for a moment, shifted his eyes down to my body, stopping at my crotch, and nodded his head lightly. “This is one of the very few times that I have been stumped by such a smart answer.”

    Again, taking the initiative, I moved the arm from around his waist to the back of his neck, and pulled his face to me, placing a wet kiss on his lips. I heard him moan and felt its reverberations in my head.

    “Shall we go inside?” he murmured huskily as we broke the kiss.

    I followed him, watching his butt, bubble shaped and firm-looking even under the dress pants he was wearing. My dick liked that a lot and I promised him a good fuck.

    “Let me get things set up,” he said as he disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a folded massage table on rollers. Wow! The man was prepared and ready. Slowly, I slid my backpack off and pulled off my t-shirt. I helped him unfold the table and make it fast.

    Without speaking, and with his eyes alternating between my face, my naked torso, and my bulge, JJ stripped. All the way. He stood there, watching, waiting for my reaction, as I studied his figure. The pot belly was there, sure enough. He was hairy all over as opposed to the small chest hair patch that I had. I could barely see his dick through the thick, curly pubes. I wondered how he would react to my cock, which I estimated would probably be at least three times bigger than his.

    Finally, he took a deep breath and climbed onto the massage table. “You can strip, too, Jack,” he suggested as he settled on his stomach, looking at me sideways. I undid my jeans buttons and slid them down, keeping my tight boxers. I noticed his eyes grow wide when he saw the bulge inside my underwear. My cock, now semi-erect, snaked down the leg, stretching the tight lycra fabric.

    Fishing out my oil bottles, I started to apply some onto his back and to rub him up and down. As I did the shoulders, standing on the side of the massage table, I could feel the knots of muscle, and how they began to relax under my fingers. A few minutes later, I felt his hand on my thigh. JJ wanted action, it seemed, and he wanted it now. His fingers traced up and down my hairy thigh until they reached my crotch. Gingerly, he traced my dick. Still working on his shoulder, I moved to the top of the table and pressed my cock onto his upturned face. He moaned.

    “I’m impressed,” JJ said as he moved his lips up and down my cock shaft, which by now was on its way to erection. I pressed onto his face harder, grinding.

    “Do you like it this much, John?” I asked teasingly.

    “Oh, Jesus, yes,” he groaned with lust. He moved one hand and tried to pull down the underwear. I immediately slapped it away. I felt I needed to prove to this guy that I was the one in control. He might be rich and all, but I got the dick and I was going to do the fucking, and he did use the Jack phone number

    He kept his face glued to my crotch, but moved his hand back down to my thigh, caressing it.

    I needed to do something special with this guy. “John?” I said, looking down at his balding head as he kissed and licked my bulge. “Does that Jacuzzi of yours work?”

    He immediately got up, his eyes glinting. “Oh, yea, sure,” and I could detect the excitement in his voice. “Let’s do some Jacuzzi, Jack.”

    He turned on the water to fill the tub, and as we waited, I pulled him to me and kissed him, this time with open mouth and deep tonguing. I pressed my erection onto his small penis and rubbed against him, one hand on the back of his head, controlling the kissing, the other caressing his firm, hairy butt. He writhed under my embrace. Age difference disappeared and it was as if I was the older guy, preparing a young kid for a hot fuck session.

    Finally, the tub filled out. JJ added some bath oils and colored stuff from different bottles to the water, and he stepped into the tub, squatting and then sliding down into the now bubbly water.

    Slowly, standing at the tub, I pulled down my tight boxers. My cock sprang up, 22 centimeters of hard fuck tool. The man’s eyes literally bulged. He couldn’t take his eyes off my hard cock, standing at an upward angle, revealing my balls. I stood there for a while, letting him drink in what he would later be getting up his man hole, all the way to the base. He reached for my cock, and I once again slapped his hand away. He settled back in the tub sheepishly, reaching for his own erection, now not only hidden by his pubes but also by the soap bubbles.

    I climbed into the tub as he turned the Jacuzzi jet nozzles on, and I settled facing him, my legs stretched out along his sides. I started to relax with the warmth of the water, the scents of the oils, and the massaging effects of the sprays coming out of the nozzles. JJ kept his distance, like a good boy, all the while gazing at my face and every now and then licking his lips.

    I couldn’t keep him in anticipation for too long. I didn’t want him to lose interest. So I sat up and made him slide on his butt between my legs towards me. Placing his own legs around my waist, he leaned over and we kissed. I took one of his hands and guided him to my hard cock under the soapy bubbles, and this time I let him explore. He palmed my hard cock, stroking me slowly as I tongued his mouth deep. I reached down and held his nipples between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed on them, making them hard, teasing them. His moans intensified.

    I decided that by now, I should make the move to start the sex. I stood up, all soapy, my cock still angled upward and dripping and I thrust my pelvis towards him, inviting him. He eagerly held onto my thighs and gobbled my erection. Moaning loudly, he sucked on the head. When he tried to go down the shaft, he gagged. I immediately held his head and pushed deeper. With his lips open around my cock, he started to cough. I kept thrusting deeper. He looked up at me, his finger nails buried into my thigh muscles, as if begging me to let him breathe. Still holding onto his wet hair with both hands, I kept on pushing. I could feel my cockhead hit his throat. His gagging and coughing increased and the pressure of his fingers on my thighs intensified, digging into the muscles. I wouldn’t let him get off my cock. I pulled out a few centimeters, and a look of relief came to his face, which instantly disappeared as I shoved hard back down his throat.

    Forcing him to take my long, hard dick turned me on more, and my cock got even harder and thicker. Once I felt his nose buried in my pubes, I started to grind against his face. He was still coughing and slobbering when I released the pressure off the back of his head a few moments later.

    But would he pull back as I expected he would? Not on your life. He kept my cock buried down his throat and pursed his lips around the base. The coughing receded and I determined that by now he was able to control his gagging reflex. After a while, with me standing in the bubbly tub, and him sitting on his butt with my cock deep down his throat, he started to blow me. He never let go of my thighs. I caressed his hair and his face cheeks as he went down on me, pulling out till the edge of my cock head ridge and then swallowing back the shaft to the base. In response, I started pumping into his mouth.

    With a gratifying look up at me, he took my hard pumping eagerly, now that he was more comfortable with sucking my big cock, which was totally in the mood for fucking.

    Pulling him off my throbbing dick, I turned him around in the tub and made him bend over the edge. I wanted his ass. He wanted me to want his ass, too, I bet.

    “Jack, please, wear some protection, ok?” he moaned as he offered his butt to be fucked. “There are some condoms on the rack behind you.” Sure enough, there was a packet of condoms, ribbed, right where he said it would be.

    Quickly, I ripped open the wrapping and slid the condom onto my cock. It was a bit tight. Apparently, JJ hadn’t expected a cock as big as mine. Otherwise, he would have bought the large-sized condoms. I was a bit concerned that it would break, but I went ahead and rolled it down to around two thirds of my cock shaft. I knelt into the water behind him, and rubbed my cock shaft up and down his soapy crack. He ground back on me, moaning with anticipation.

    Spreading his ass cheeks with my hands, being careful not to slip on the soapy porcelain, and enjoying the jets of water hitting my butt, I gave it to him. When I penetrated, he grunted with the immediate pain. His rim muscle stretched for me, and I paused with just my cock head inside him. Bending over his back, I pulled his head up by the hair, turning his head sideways, and I pushed my tongue into his mouth, and my cock started to get sucked into his hole. Thrusting, I went all the way to the base and paused again, grinding my groin onto his bubble ass cheeks.

    Completely inside him, I bit on his lips and then moved to his earlobes as I started my fucking. I went a bit gently at first, but very soon, I was pumping his ass mercilessly. I felt I was going deeper into him with every hard thrust I made. His groaning and grunting told me how excited he was. His hole puckered on my cock shaft with every thrust. His tunnel spasmed wildly with every invasion.

    I usually don’t come quickly. But what with CJ sucking my cock earlier, and now my deep fucking in the Jacuzzi, I couldn’t hold much longer. When I exploded inside him, I did so viciously. I was almost sure that the condom would burst with the force of my squirts. But I was way beyond caring. I pulled on his hair hard as I shot into the rubber, emptying my balls with repeated squirts.

    “Take my load, bitch,” I hissed as more cum left my cock slit into the condom.

    Finally, I pulled out, now anxious to see whether the rubber held. Thankfully, it did. I pulled it off my dick, which was still hard, and settled back into the now cooling water. JJ settled back also, facing me.

    “You’re a hard fucker, Jack,” he groaned with satisfaction.

    “Did you shoot your load, John?” I asked.

    “Twice,” he smiled. Fuck! That was why his rim muscle was doing miraculous squeezing around my probing and thrusting cock shaft. He was shooting loads of cum, without even touching himself.

    “This means that you have enjoyed the hard fucking, then?” I smirked, fully knowing that this was exactly what he wanted when he used the Jack-telephone line.

    “Can you spend the night?” This came out of nowhere, taking me by surprise. I had never had such an offer before and I hesitated. “I mean,” he tried to explain, “it’s just that I enjoyed our fuck so much, I want repeats. Can you?”

    I decided. “Yes.”

    He beamed. Now, suddenly, I thought about the money side. Would he make me an offer? Should I stipulate a specific figure? How much should I demand? For one, he loved my fucking. Two, he was loaded. Three, it was he who suggested this. Man, I was really at a loss. He must have sensed this because he immediately told me that money was not an issue.

    “What are we talking about, then?” I countered. “I have already agreed to stay for the night. I have not asked for extra money although I am certain that it will cost a bit more.” I was calculating the “bit more” part. I charged him 50 for the massage and there would be another 50 for the fuck. I thought that was kind of cheap. Maybe I should be looking at 500 for the night? That would be too steep, wouldn’t it?

    Then he hit me with his offer. “Is 1500 ok?”

    My jaw must have dropped and my eyes widened. One fucking thousand and five fucking hundred for one fucking night? I must have been dreaming. How many cell phones could I buy? Oh, my God.

    I just nodded my head and I could see that he was elated. He reached out for his wallet which he had placed on the wash sink and counted 15 100-bills in fucking cash. Just like that! Oh, boy, I was going to fuck his brains out all night. He was going to be 1500-dollar sore by morning. I had the equipment to do it and I also had the stamina. All thoughts of CJ were blanked out by this.

    “JJo…” I caught myself in time. “John, thanks, it is fine. Let’s get into the shower. I want to soap you all over and fuck you with water streaming over your body. Are you ready for some hot, rough showering?”

    He beamed again and rubbed his ass, “Jack, you fucked me hard in the Jacuzzi. Let’s try the shower.”

    “But first,” I decided on the rough part. “I want you to get down on your fucking knees and worship my cock.” I knew this was crass and vulgar, but I had to satisfy this dude in any way I could.

    After a few minutes of allowing him to slobber on my rod, I told him I wanted to take a leak. I stood in front of the toilet bowl and let out a hot stream of piss through my now semi-hard dick. He watched, eyes open, jaw dropped. With my last squirts of urine, JJ heaved a deep sigh and stepped into the shower. The wad of money was still in my wet hand, and I rushed to where I had dropped my jeans and shoved it into the back pocket. Wow! 1500 dollars!

    In the shower stall, I soaped him all over. My hands massaged his body, played with his tits and smallish dick. I fingered his hole and when he complained about the soreness, I slapped his butt and told him not to be a sissy. I could detect that he was really getting turned on with this rough treatment which, I had to admit, I was not used to. I usually fuck nicely, making love rather than fucking. I have always believed in a give-and-take relationship. But now I was paid as an escort. I was a male prostitute, to put it vulgarly. So I gave it to him, rough and hard.

    Raising one of his legs, I thrust my hard cock into his hole without any preparation. I figured that my tub fucking should have prepared him enough. Besides, he wanted it rough. The soap made it easier for me to penetrate, but he cried out with the pain of my invading tool. This didn’t stop me as I roughly thrust my cock all the way to the base, my balls slapping his inner thighs, my fingernails digging into his thigh.

    As I pounded his ass, JJ supported himself with both hands on the shower wall. His grunts and groans accentuated my fucking, giving me more impetus. We were like two animals grunting and moaning with lust. As I pumped deeply inside his body, I played his tits, squeezing hard; I grabbed his nuts and squeezed also. I slapped his butt cheeks. He responded with more intense moaning with a lot of “yeah”, “more”, “do it Jack”, “fuck me baby”, and “harder please harder.”

    When I saw him reach for his dick, I slapped his hand away. I wanted him to shoot his load because of my fucking not because he was jerking off. I pounded harder and I could feel that he was about to reach a climax. I bit on his neck and squeezed his tits over and over, responding with “take my dick, bitch”, “I’m going to fill you with hot, creamy juice” (now that the protecting condom had been forgotten in the heat of the moment), and a lot of “fucking bitch”, pounding and squeezing.

    All of a sudden, I felt the puckering of his fuck tunnel twitch hard on my pounding cock shaft and I knew that he was shooting his load. He arched his back against my chest and cried out as his dick released streams of cum onto the wall and the floor of the shower stall. I wasn’t close to losing my load yet, and I decided that it would be better if I kept it for further fucking since I was going to spend the whole night here. Also, I realized that I really should be more careful about bare-backing. I was almost certain that I wouldn’t be doing much sleeping tonight.

    So I pulled out of him as the last drops of semen dribbled off his small dick slit. Turning him around, pushing him onto the wall, I held him tight with my hard, wet cock pressing on his belly, and we kissed. He was so hungry that he almost swallowed my tongue, all the while moaning with after-ejaculation pleasure, jerking against my pressing and throbbing cock. I made sure to finger his hole all the time to remind him that I will be using it over and over. There were fifteen hundred dollars stashed away in my back pocket, and I was planning on earning every cent.

    He prepared pasta in the small but well-equipped kitchenette of the suite, as I lounged on one of the plush couches with only a towel wrapped around my body, enjoying the pleasures of the rich surroundings.

    “Damn!” he exclaimed after he dropped the pasta into the pot of boiling water and opened the fridge under the counter/bar.

    “What is it?” I asked, feeling all relaxed, even somewhat drowsy.

    “The bastards haven’t put any vegetables or fruits in the fridge although I explicitly asked for a full stocking of stuff. I’ll call room service for salad. Any kind you prefer?”

    Fuck! For me a salad was a salad: vegetables with some lemon juice and oil. What did he mean by “kind of salad”?

    “I’ll leave this up to you JJoh… uh… John.” This was a smart way of avoiding to reveal my ignorance of sophisticated cuisine.

    He laughed, noticing the difficulty of my saying his name. “What’s this JJoh.. thing?” Shit! How could I answer this without hurting his feelings? I didn’t want him to think that what I am doing to him was only to please him. I wanted him to feel that I was enjoying myself also and that my fucking was very real. Although it was real and I was enjoying myself, it was not my real preference in sex. CJ’s was more exciting for me: slow, easy love making building up to intense gratification.

    I smiled to hide my nervousness. “Listen,” he said when I did not offer any explanation. “Why not use my real name? It’s Richard, ok?”

    “Would you like to know my real name as well? It’s not Jack.” I felt I had to reciprocate. I also, and for the first time, felt that I needed to reveal more of my identity to a “trick” or a “John.”

    “If you are comfortable with that, yes sure.” He smiled back.

    “Ed,” I murmured.

    “Ok, Ed. This sounds more like you than Jack. But I hope the Ed in you will fuck me like a Jack.”

    “Oh?” I raised my eyebrows. What difference did it make to him whether my name was Ed or Jack? My dick was the same and my fucking was the same.

    “I feel better to be calling you with your real name since I knew that Jack was a fake. I want the man who fucks me to be real not fake.”

    I grabbed my crotch and said, smirking, “So all this time since we started fucking you considered this as fake? Didn’t it feel real enough for you?”

    He approached me, also with just a towel around his waist. “Oh, Ed, it was real enough! My sore ass will vouch for that. You are an incredible fucker and I want a lot more of you tonight. But I like Ed much better.”

    I didn’t take this any further as he picked up the phone and ordered the salad. Sitting in an easy chair facing me, he regarded me with what I felt more of a critical eye than before, less lustful, more judging, now that he had been fucked twice and ejaculated a few times.

    “Why do you do this, Ed?” he asked in a low voice. I could hear the water boiling with the pasta cooking in it.

    “Why do I do what, Richard?”

    “Escort,” he explained.

    Did he really need to ask this? Did he want me to admit to my being a prostitute, fucking for money? Fuck him! I decided to come right out and tell him.

    “Not all of us are born into money, Richard,” I countered. “I need money and I have a hot cock with people willing to offer money to suck it and ride it. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.”

    “I see,” he contemplated. “So there is no pleasure for you, huh? Just fucking to make money?”

    “Oh, Ricky baby, there is a lot of pleasure,” I smiled at him rubbing my semi-hard cock under the towel. “My dick must have told you that already.”

    “What a smart kid,” he said and moved over to sit next to me on the couch, replacing my hand with his and massaging my dick. I kissed the side of his neck, licking over to reach his lips, biting on the lower one as he moaned. “You do wonders to me, Ed,” he groaned, trembling, pressing on my hardening cock.

    I was already thinking of before-dinner fucking when there was a knock at the door.

    “This must be the salad,” Richard said, standing up to answer the knock. The towel tented over my erection and I straightened to hide it.

    “Should I go inside?” I asked. Perhaps Richard didn’t want to advertise who his evening visitors were or what they were doing to him.

    “Oh, no,” he said as he approached the door. “The staff here are very friendly, especially when I am generous with them.”

    I bet, I thought. I would be the friendliest person around, musing about the 1500 dollars for the night and the earlier 500 for the massage. I was 2000 fucking dollars richer. Add a 100 from CJ! Wow!

    The guy who rolled in the trolley with three or four different bowls of salad was fantastically beautiful. I immediately hardened more when I watched him place the trolley next to the dining table.

    As he prepared the bowls and plates on the table, Richard walked back into the bedroom saying, “Let me get you something, Dan.”

    Oh? So he knew the waiter’s name? Hmmm. Had he done the guy? I wondered. Dan is definitely doable and I wouldn’t blame Richard for grabbing him into his bed. Dan looked sideways at me with a smile, and then moved his eyes down to my crotch where my erection was clearly visible. He knew the score and he smiled and I detected a quick flick of his tongue over his lower lip. I instinctively lounged back on the couch revealing my hardness invitingly. This could be good for business. Very interesting!

    Richard called me from the bedroom. “Ed, I need to ask you to do me a favor,” he said as I walked into the room with my cock 20 centimeters ahead of me.

    “Shoot,” I said.

    “Is it ok with you if I asked Dan to stay for the salad and pasta?”

    Oh, my God. My cock responded with a strong twitch. Now I got to fuck Dan, too?

    “There will be another 1500 for you if you say yes,” he added in a whisper.

    “YES!” I almost screamed. “Yes, Richard. That would be fine.” It was so hard for me to control my voice or the shivers that were streaming throughout my body. The money AND the sex! Fuck! How lucky could one get?

    We walked back to the living area where Dan had finished setting the table and was waiting. His eyes immediately shifted to my tented crotch, and again there was the flick of the tongue along his lower lip.

    “Dan,” Richard said approaching him. “How about staying and sharing all this with me and ah… Ed.” I noticed that he had pushed a couple of bills, probably hundreds, into Dan’s pants pocket. Did those kind of people ever handle tens or twenties? I guessed they even wiped their asses with 100-dollar bills.

    Dan smiled, his gaze still glued to my erection under the towel. “Yes, Mr. Thompson. It would be a pleasure.”

    He then approached me holding out his hand, “I’m Dan and it’s good to meet you, Ed.”

    I took his hand and squeezed, pulling it down inches away from my erecting front. I could hear his breathing quicken.

    “Ok, Boys,” Richard clapped his hands and moved to the kitchenette. “The spaghetti must be done by now.”

    We sat around the table and ate. My erection receded and I discovered how hungry I was. Richard barely ate anything, but Dan also ate heartily. I knew that the three of us had similar thoughts: how would the coming fuck session be like?

    The meal over, the three of us walked to the bedroom. No introductions? No making out? As soon as we were inside, I dropped the towel and sat on the bed naked, my cock limp and resting on my thigh. Dan was already impressed. His bulge showed a lot of interest. Richard did the same as me and pulling Dan towards the bed, he sat beside me and placed his hand on my cock. “What do you think of this equipment, Dan? Does Ed’s tool compare to yours?”

    “Only one way to find out,” Dan responded by taking off his shirt and pulling down his pants. His briefs bulged impressively. Apparently he was also hung. Was Richard challenging us? Two hot, hung kids to service him?

    And yes, Dan was hung. I felt a bit shamed when I saw that he sported a larger cock than mine. It was a monster of a cock. Thick, veined and a couple of centimeters longer than my cock, it erected curved sideways to the left, unlike mine, which erected upwards at an angle. I was starting to harden under Richard’s caressing and Dan’s huge dick.

    As Richard bent to take my erecting cock into his mouth, Dan came over and presented me with his monster erection. I didn’t hesitate. I slobbered on his dick as I pumped up in and out of Richard’s hungry mouth. Already, I was having new sensations that I had never experienced before. So, ok, I was an escort and I was supposed to have experienced all kinds of sex. But this scene was totally new to me. In none of my relations as a sex prostitute had I experienced a cock so big. Most dicks were smaller than average, and the men much older. But Dan beat all. His body was a killer as well, lean and muscled and lightly hairy on the chest with thick pubes and hairy legs. I licked and sucked and slobbered, and so did Richard on my own cock.

    A few minutes later, Richard released my dick and asked me to lie on my back. Straddling my hips, he held my cock, unwrapped a condom and rolled it down the shaft, and pointed the head at his hole. I felt Dan’s tongue licking up and down my cock shaft as I pressed on Richard’s fuck entrance. Dan’s hands were fondling my balls. I thrust up and penetrated. Richard’s hole was not so tight anymore and my penetration came easy and smooth. He pushed down until my cock was buried all the way inside him. Dan was still at my balls, slobbering and licking and fondling as I started fucking Richard’s ass with his meeting my upward thrusts with his downward push.

    As I was enjoying the fucking, already sweating with Richard’s weight on top of me, I felt Richard settle and freeze his downward pushes, pinning me under him. I thought that he was orgasming, but I noticed that Dan was putting on a condom and lubing it. His monster cock glistened inside the rubber. So, ok, Richard wanted Dan inside him now. That was fine with me. I could do with a breather. But Richard kept pressing me down.

    I started when I felt globs of lube applied to the base of my cock and into Richard’s crack, dribbling down to my balls. Could this be what I was starting to conclude? Was Dan entering Richard’s ass with my cock already inside?

    I felt Dan’s fingers probing the stretched fuck hole and massaging my cock shaft inside Richard’s ass. Fuck! Richard was going to be double-dicked by two hard, fat cocks.

    Sure enough, Dan straddled my thighs and I felt the head of his cock pressing down on my cock and stretching the rim muscle to enter. With all the lube, and with Richard apparently already experienced in taking cock up his ass, Dan entered. His cock slid over mine, pressing down on me.

    I couldn’t describe the sensations. This was a first for me. As Dan pushed all the way inside Richard’s ass, he bent over his back, moving Richard’s head to the side, and started to kiss me. Now the two of them were on top of me. I found breathing to be difficult out of the weight of the two bodies and more out of the excitement of Dan’s dick pressing on mine inside Richard’s ass.

    Slowly, as Dan pulled his length out, repeating the massage on my cock shaft, Richard kept his weight on me. When Dan pushed back in, I pulled out, neither cock totally exiting the fuck hole. We alternated, Dan’s dick pulling out, mine pushing in, and vice versa. This double fucking was making me mad with lust. I was fast building up to what I knew was going to be a huge load. My balls were aching. Dan felt so hot fucking both Richard’s ass and my cock, while I was doing the same to the both of them. There was no way I would be able to control myself and not explode.

    This continued for some time. I had lost estimating how much time was elapsing. Except for the amazing sensations throughout my body, everything else went into oblivion. The alternating fucking made Richard go mad as well, crying out loud with every thrust of either of us. There were like thousands of “oh my God” and “Oh yeah” and “Dan, Ed, more, more” issuing through his lips. I could feel his body tremble and his dick pressed and rubbing between our bodies. There was a lot of slippery stuff on my belly and I figured that not all of it was lubricant, that some of it must be coming from Richard’s dick. How many times could this fucker ejaculate? I wondered.

    When Dan finally pulled out, I felt huge emptiness although my cock was still buried deep inside Richard’s body. Slowly, Richard raised himself off me and my cock slid out of his hole as well. The three of us were panting and sweating. Richard knelt between Dan and me, removed the slick condoms off our pulsating cocks, and started an alternating blow job. Holding onto one cock and stroking, he sucked on the other. And then he moved to sucking the first and stroking the other. Dan and I were kissing like mad, tongues and lips and mouths. He tasted so delicious and I knew I was going to burst very soon.

    Dan shot his load first. Richard gobbled and swallowed. The kid gave him such a huge squirting that Richard was choking with the flood inside his throat. Cum was seeping out through his gulping lips. I was almost there and the sound of Dan’s moans as he ejaculated made me ready to shoot my own. Pulling Richard by the hair, I took him off Dan’s cock, which was still squirting white semen all over the place, and pushed him down on mine, thrusting to penetrate the throat. Ignoring his gagging sounds, I fucked his mouth hard and deep, the juices erupting from my balls into my cock shaft. Again pulling on his hair, I pulled my cock out of his hungry mouth, and the first squirt hit him right in the face. It was so thick and intense that both his eyes and part of his right cheek were covered with semen. I directed my squirting cock toward Dan’s body and covered his dick, throbbing and leaking on his belly, with more cum. I cummed like crazy. Squirt after squirt of long streams of white juice exploded out of my cock slit onto Richard’s face and hair and onto Dan’s cock and balls.

    Finally, I slumped back on the bed, almost unable to breathe because of the intensity of my ejaculation. Richard was cleaning both our balls and dicks and bellies with his tongue, his face covered with man juice. He didn’t seem to get enough of our cum.

    Need I describe the rest of the night? Dan left after our threesome session, two hundred dollars richer. I could bet that Richard slipped him more bills as he left. Good for Dan. That was a great fuck.

    I barely got a couple of hours of sleep. Richard was insatiable. All he wanted was cock after cock after cock, and mine was there hard and throbbing and ready to please. At one time during the night, the fucking turned more into rape, with my merciless pounding and slapping on his ass butt and pulling on his hair and squeezing hard on his tits. I was wild as I felt Richard receive all this with rising lust and desire. His cries were getting louder and I was a bit concerned about how thick the walls were and whether the occupant of the room next to the suite could hear the screams.

    How many times did I fuck? No way could I answer this. It was continuous. Just before dawn, Richard was finally sated. Placing his head into the nook of my armpit, he fell asleep. I followed suit almost immediately. When I woke up two hours later, Richard’s mouth was already around my cock, sucking my morning boner. It didn’t take long for me to feed him his breakfast, thick and creamy.

    Leaving the hotel, I had 3000 dollars in my pocket and a sore cock in my pants. As I approached the doorman, I fished out one of Richard’s bills and slipped it into his hand. His eyes widened when he glanced at the hundred-dollar bill that I had tipped him.

    I felt very good. Actually, I felt excellent, heavenly. I enjoyed the night as much as Richard did. I didn’t feel like a prostitute at all. I didn’t just lie back and give him my cock to nurse or to fuck on. The night was memorable in all aspects.

    Five minutes later, walking back to my place, thinking about the new cell phone I was going to buy with my newly earned money, I hailed a cab. What the fuck! This morning I was rich beyond my expectations. I felt expansive. I slouched back on the taxi seat and dreamed about double fucking and about hot Dan and about loaded Richard. By the time the taxi pulled over next to my apartment building I already had a raging hard on which I was sure that CJ was going to gobble and slobber on later today.

    Oh, the miserable life of escorts!

  • The Alien Culture Project

    Chance woke up the next morning feeling wonderfully refreshed, more invigorated than he could remember feeling in a long time.  He stretched out the length of his hard-muscled body in bed, savoring the feel of his thick, meaty cock rubbing against the cotton sheet.  What a milestone night last night was.Sex, a glorious bout of sex.  Finally.  And what mind-blowingly satisfying sex it was.  His first time with a guy. He’d always been curious as hell what sex with another dude would be like; he had no idea it would be the sex of his dreams — all cock and ass and muscle and cum; both partners sharing the same raw hunger; everything he’d always hoped for in sex.

    Dang, son, he laughed to himself, I think you might be on to somethin’ here!

    A vibrant, electric future suddenly seemed to stretch out in front of Chance: a wild montage of manly beauty; cocks of every size, hard and soft, hairy and smooth, cut and uncut, thin and fat; firm muscles to stroke and lick and worship; hungry mouths and dancing tongues; lips brushing against beard-stubbled cheeks; smooth, firm, muscular asses, with their tight, tempting puckers; and big, full, dangling ball-sacs, ripe for pleasuring with fingers and tongue – the whole dazzling array covered in a luscious glaze of thick cream.

    Chance was amped to face the day now. He rose out of bed savoring every flex and ripple of his taut muscles. He walked — nude, long dick swinging listlessly in the stillness of 6AM — out of his small bedroom into the common room he and his roommate shared, to make a cup of tea. He brought one of Reed’s stroke books with him to leaf through as he waited for the water to boil. His roommate was still asleep.Life doubtless went on yesterday the same as usual for ol’ Tommy, Chance figured, then had to laugh out loud in a kind of giddy, stunned amazement at how, for himself, yesterday had changed things utterly.

    Damn, he liked guys’ dicks! Always had, he could finally admit to himself, flipping through the magazine and rubbing his own as he waited for his tea to steep.He stopped to dwell on the photo of a gorgeous young stud whose long, smooth, uncut cock was jutting up in full erection. So beautiful, so sexy: thick, sleek, alive with a kind of power; triggering his mouth to water in dreamy anticipation. Fuck, he loved to suck cock, it felt amazing in his mouth — thick, luscious, that firm, meaty flesh hardening and lengthening as his worked his excited lips over it. Guys’ mouths, he realized, were made for guys’ dicks. To rub his lips over a dude’s dick, to caress the head and shaft with his tongue, getting it slick, wet, hard, and ready to shoot — it was wonderfully liberating to be able to luxuriate in the desire for them so frankly now.

    He realized now that for years, since high school, probably, or even before, every time he’d seen a hot guy, in person or in a photo, he’d wondered about the guy’s dick. And when he had a chance, in showers or locker rooms, to see one, he sure took it. He could probably sketch from memory, it dawned on him, the cock of every boy he showered with in high school. Oh well, he grinned happily, thinking of Reed’s comment from last night: ‘Guilty as charged’! Except he didn’t feel guilty at all; instead, he felt like he was primed to start having exciting sex for the first time in his life. And damn! he laughed, he wanted as much of it as possible, as often as possible, as soon as possible! He was way overdue.

    He laid aside the magazine and stared out the window while he sipped his tea, looking out on a fresh, vibrant world: a bright sunrise was bringing the world outside his dorm room to life; the grass seemed dazzlingly green; the trees looked tall and majestic; the leaves were turning – and hey, so was he; actually, he was pretty sure he’d turned. Totally.

    It’s funny, he thought, as he rubbed his dick idly, he had had such awful luck in sex until things bloomed so wildly and abruptly and completely with Reed last night. He tried sorting it all out in his mind. Despite how badly he’d craved the hard, physical passion of sex, it had always been an empty scene at best for him — a fevered space of masturbation and longing, punctuated by a few half-assed attempts with women, and endless fascination with male musculature. Now sex suddenly seemed like a rich, exotic land full of drama and promise, a place where fulfillment would be beyond what he could ever have hoped for. Hope has been transformed now into discovery.

    It was like his father always told him when Chance’d keep trying – and failing – to do something one way, but then hit pay dirt by trying a different way: Son, you were just fishing in the wrong stream, is all.

    After he finished his tea, he stretched then went for a half-hour run to get warmed up before wrestling practice. Even on his run, he felt better, stronger. It’s like I’m more centered, like I fit a little snugger inside myself, he thought. I’m more alive in the world.

    Back at the dorm he took a quick shower and got dressed. He decided on no jock today; he wanted his cock to hang full, firm, and loose, especially at wrestling practice. He wanted to saunter around the locker room like a bull stud, potent with sperm – that’s how amped he felt. Today in the gym was a day to fully savor the feel of his thick, virile cock, covered only by a thin singlet, as it snaked down obscenely along his thigh or brushed another guy’s body during practice or even pressed up hard against it — letting the other dude feel his throbbing interest. So he just threw on some jeans, another too-small T, and his Carhartt jacket. It was 7:30, right on time to head over to meet Reed.

    Reed was dressed and ready. They kissed, hugged, and smiled at each other.Reed gazed at that strip of hard abs, visible between the bottom of Chance’s T and the top of his jeans. But no jock this time, just hard flesh all the way into the low-rising waistband of his jeans. His mouth watered. No time for even a quick fondle, though, as Chance wanted to hustle them off to the gym.

    The wrestlers lifted and practiced in a small, though ample, well-equipped space on the second floor of the school’s athletic complex. The wrestling program was highly-ranked nationally, its coach had won two national championships, so it rated a good space in the athletic program pecking order. The wrestlers had their own locker room and shower space, plus a big enough practice room to be divided in half – weights/machines and mats – so the wrestling program was its own little world, independent of either mainstream college students or any of the other teams’ athletes. In the locker room, Reed watched excitedly as Chance stowed his jacket, took off his work boots and socks, then stripped off first shirt and then jeans, flexing his ripped body when he finally stood naked in front of his buddy.

    “Free-ballin’ today, huh? That’s sexy as hell.”

    Chance smiled, then bent over to kiss Reed, who lovingly stroked that luscious dick when it got close to him.

    “I’m totally into flaunting what I got now, thanks to you. Hey, ain’t you gonna change?”

    “In a second. I just wanted to enjoy the show. Fuck, would I love to suck you off right here.”

    Chance laughed and pulled on one of the singlets he had stored in his locker. Reed had to give out with a deep, rich ‘damn’ when he saw how outrageously defined the young stud’s long, thick cock was under the thin material.

    “Fuck, man, you might as well be wrestling nude, like the Greeks.”

    “I’m celebrating my body today, dude.”

    “It’s gonna be quite a fuckin’ celebration, then, let me tell you. God-damned national holiday, the way you’re built.”

    Reed peeled his own clothes off, stacked them on the bench by Chance’s locker, and started getting into his gym shorts and T. Soon they were joined by a couple other young wrestlers, who nodded to Chance, then proceeded to change for practice. Reed got just a quick glimpse of the young men nude, both of whom were built (but neither as jacked as Chance), before Chance led Reed through the locker rooms and out into the practice room.

    It was nicely lit, Reed noticed, and well-equipped, but the heat in the room was intense.

    “Jesus, man, it’s like a furnace in here.”

    “I know. It bugged me at first, but now I’m into it. Gets your muscles loose in a hurry. I think Coach always wants us to cut weight or something. You sure as hell get an amazing workout every time, sweatin’ up a storm.”

    The team drifted in and Reed went to work taking photos and making notes in his log. He became almost a fly on the wall, as far as Chance was concerned, who was immediately into his routine. After a quick stretch (he was already primed after his morning run), he hit the weights. His newly stoked sexual excitement did indeed result in a new swagger, one he really felt as he strode around the weight room that morning, and most of the boys noticed it, too (either the swagger or the huge impression his dick made unencased by a jock for the first time at practice).

    Chance now very consciously thought of the boys on his team frankly, sexually. He didn’t just study their physiques, he perused them critically as guys he might like to fool around with. That new frankness showed in his patter that morning. Lots of “Lookin’ good today, stud!” and “Damn, I gotta feel that bicep, dude; how much you curlin’ anyway?” and “Those abs are lookin’ way hot.” Nothing very blatant, just a marked, subtle difference, a new level of physical camaraderie.

    Such intimate awareness of each other’s bodies was easily accomplished, given the skimpy amount of clothes the wrestlers wore for lifting. Reed quickly noticed, snapping pictures here and there whenever he caught a good pose, that almost all the boys who wore them wore their singlets pulled down around their waists as they lifted. Some simply wore a pair of gym shorts, most with no top or just a sleeveless one. Practically speaking, it allowed them to see each muscle in the mirror as they worked it, gauging the effectiveness of their workout. But, Reed smiled knowingly, it also meant they could showoff and view each other’s bodies more easily that way, too, judging by how often their gazes lingered on a team mate’s sweaty torso. The coach, too, he noticed, wasn’t shy at all about staring at his built young team. Now there’s a job I should have considered, Reed sighed; if only I’d known. . .

    Coach, Reed saw, spent a lot of time with Chance as he did his upper body routine. The coach wore a pair of sweatpants that fit just right over a firm-muscled ass. On top he wore a sleeveless T, cut low to show off the lightly-furred chest of a very in-shape thirty-something. He watched appreciatively as Chance did his raises, then spotted him at the bench press. At one point, in order to show Chance how the muscle was supposed to flex, he took off his T, and then “casually” forgot to put it back on. Reed took several excited snaps of this beautiful youngish bear going shirtless. Another time, to show Chance how to change his grip on a biceps curl, in order to get a better pump, Coach nuzzled right up behind Chance, asked him to hold a contraction, then traced his fingers back and forth along the muscle as he explained the theory behind this new grip. His other hand just happened to rest very informally on Chance’s lower hip. Reed got a few more snaps.He’s either just a really hands-on trainer around or this guy’s copping feels of his young squad whenever possible. But fuck, the two of them looked seriously hot together. And Reed didn’t think he was seeing things as Chance seemed to press his ass further into Coach’s dick. Quite an apt pupil I tutored last night, he thinks wistfully. At this rate he’ll be giving me lessons in a few days.

    After the weights session, the coach made an announcement.

    “All right, listen up. For today’s scrimmage, I want you each to wrestle someone out of your weight class. Big guys, see if you can handle the speed of some of the lighter guys. Little guys, your resistance is about to get an extreme challenge. We’ll do the usual, 2 minutes, followed by 1, followed by 1.”

    Brock Sears, one of the seniors on the team, wasted no time zeroing right in on Chance before any other wrestler could. He had been turned-on by Chance’s cut perfection all term, and today, seeing no jock under Chance’s singlet, was too much. He was definitely gonna be feeling up that cock as much as he could legitimately get away with.

    Brock sidled up next to Chance and smiled cockily.

    “How about it, stud? Think you can take me?”

    Chance looked him up and down, his gaze exceeding the bounds of propriety, a lingering look lost not at all on Brock, whose pulse began to trip even faster. Then Chance tried to sound as sexy as possible as he drawled his reply.

    “I’d sure as fuck like to try, dude.”

    Brock gave a very knowing grin and fist-bumped his team-mate.

    “First, I gotta go change into my singlet. That’ll give you a coupla minutes to chicken out.”

    “Sure, bro, you gotta change your singlet. And if you don’t come back, don’t worry, I’ll know you ain’t punked out.”

    As Brock dashed back to the locker room, Reed came up behind Chance.

    “Dude, that guy is totally hot for you.”

    “Think so?”

    “Dude, he never took his eyes of your cock! Shit, though, I guess I could say that for about half the guys in here.”

    “Well, you wanna hook a prize catch, you need a big wiggly worm to attract ’em, dude. That’s the idea.”

    Reed burst out laughing. Chance’s corn-pone humor was hilarious.

    “Worm? Dude, you’ve got an anaconda at the end of your line.”

    “That’s so I can hook the big ones, bro!”

    Chance laughed as he gave Reed’s dick a quick feel.

    Neither Reed nor Chance were surprised to see Brock walk back in the practice room a few minutes later in his singlet but, like Chance, noticeably forgoing his jock.

    Reed spoke to Chance under his breath.

    “Whoa, lookee-thar, pardner — another big worm. These are gonna be some sweet pics of you two going for each other’s bait.”

    “You don’t mind, man? For real? If I flirt with Brock?”

    “Hell, no! Go nuts! You are way overdue for as much hot sex as you can get.”

    Chance had always thought Brock had the best body (next to his own) on the team. He thought of Brock as the senior stud of the squad. Brock wore his hair shorter on top than Chance and kept it shaved skin-close on the side; that jarhead cut, along with the permanent three-day beard stubble that always covered his lean jaw, gave him a macho look Chance’s gaze loved to linger on. His body, hard and wiry, more than lived up to that look’s rugged promise.

    Chance wrestled at 163, Brock at 145. Chance worked out hard to maintain the 5% body fat rule (you couldn’t have less, and Chance had not a drop more), but Brock, he felt, couldn’t possibly have met the requirement. He looked like he had -2% body fat or something. Most good-lookin’ guys had a muscular physique you could describe as ‘cut.’ On Chance’s body, far above average, there wasn’t one muscle whose definition wasn’t easily traceable; he went beyond cut to ‘ripped’. But Brock, though not as bulky, could only be called ‘shredded’. Chance could see the actual striations of the muscles in his abs and arms, something he found sexy as hell. In the shower, he’d noticed Brock had just a few sparse light-brown hairs between his pecs, and a sexy little line that went from right below his belly button down to a wispy puff of dirty-blonde hair that sat atop about seven and one-half inches of a beautiful piece of man-meat. It was a dusky pink, and curved ever so slightly. Chance had always been attracted to it; now, as he studied what was outlined by Brock’s singlet, he thought it looked irresistible. Some guys had tight scrotums, but Brock was like Chance and Reed: he had a nice, loose ball-sac that Chance loved to watch jiggle.

    They got in their set positions, Brock on top, managing to casually brush Chance’s ass a few times as he got set. When Coach signaled, they jolted into action. At the start, each boy was trying to show the other who was the alpha stud. Chance easily evaded Brock’s first hold, and managed to grip Brock tight around the waist and slam the boy to the mat. But Brock quickly wriggled free before Chance could pin him.

    Chance gasped.

    “You’re even faster than you look, man!”

    Brock grinned.

    “You ain’t seen how fast yet!”

    No more fucking around, Brock thought, so he moved in and cupped a hard hand right on Chance’s ass-crack as he tried to push the boy to the floor.He made sure the tops of his fingers brushed Chance’s balls and dickhead in a way that couldn’t be misinterpreted.

    Chance smirked, then grunted.

    “Like what you feel?”

    Then he lunged at Brock, cupping one of the boy’s pecs and tweaking his nipple.

    “Guess so, ’cause yer tit’s sure nice and hard.”

    Brock strained to grab more of Chance’s hardening cock.

    “That ain’t the only thing gettin’ hard around here, stud!”

    Both boys were delighted at how quickly this had turned to the kind of action they each wanted.

    Chance quickly reversed out of the hold Brock had him in, pushed the boy on his back, and was on him in a minute, making sure their straining cocks were mashing against each other, bring an immediate low moan of pleasure from Brock. It was a hold neither boy wanted to break.

    “Fuck, that feels awesome!”

    Chance breathed low and hoarse.

    “I was thinkin’ the same thing, dude! Your dick’s so fucking hard and thick. Love it, bro!”

    Coach, meanwhile, was glued to this match. Who wouldn’t be? These two, the hottest studs on his team, were sort of half-wrestling, half-fucking. Damn, was it getting him hard, Coach thought, as he rubbed his own cock through his sweatpants, trying to be inconspicuous but too jazzed up to really control himself. He knew he was looking too long — and fuck, that kid with the camera was pointing right at him; damn, I bet he got a pic while I was stroking myself! Cool it, Wyatt, he said to himself, you don’t want to lose this job. So he forced himself to look at some of the other matches for a few seconds before swiveling his head right back to the main event.

    As he and Chance struggled against each other, Brock whispered low and raspy.

    “Damn, you are one hot stud. Your cock is fucking huge, dude! You want to continue this in the showers after practice?”

    “Love to, dude.”

    Coach whistled to start the second period and with that Chance got serious.He flipped Brock over on his back easily, the older boy’s mind not in the here and now but rather divided between the memory of their mutual dick-rubbing and the anticipation of the shower to come. Then Chance quickly reached behind to grab the senior by the ass-crack, forcing his shoulders to the mat while his middle finger teased Brock’s hole through the thin singlet, causing the boy to whoop excitedly.

    “FUCK YEAH, dude! First time in my life I don’t mind being pinned. Keep workin’ my hole, dude. But make it look like we’re wrestling, so Coach won’t know. Shit, do I wanna feel that donkey-dick of yours deep in my ass when we get all soaped up later!”

    Chance’s cock was pure steel now, jutting up at the thought of a lathery fuck with Brock in the showers. He kept up the ass-play while he workedBrock’s pecs.

    When they broke again, they were ogling each other’s sweating, panting, perfectly chiseled bodies with pure lust. As the whistle for the last period sounded, both boys were of one mind: to use this minute for foreplay. They immediately sprawled out on the mat, Brock face down, with Chance on top, his hard cock dry-humping Brock’s ass. They kept up their fevered writhing the entire period.

    Coach, by this time, was hard and leaking, thanking the gods he had worn his jock today. He blew his whistle to end the day’s practice, dreaming of a three-way with Chance Taylor and Brock Sears.

    As the other wrestlers filed out into the locker room, Chance and Brock just hung out on the mat, grinning at each other in eager anticipation. Chance quietly posed the question nagging him.

    “Now there’s just one thing I don’t understand, bro: how the hell can we fool around in the shower?”

    Brock winked slyly.

    “Just chill here with me, dude — stretch or something — until everyone’s out of the gym. Then we can spend about ten minutes worshipping each other’s hot bodies. By the time we hit the shower room, everyone will be gone. Trust me, I’ve done this before. Many times.”

    Chance just whistled, then a look of bemused wonderment came over his face.

    “Damn! I can’t believe there’s regular sex going on after wrestling practice.”

    Brock grinned that cocky, sexy grin again.

    “Shit, dude, don’t exercise and rasslin’ around with horny, good-lookin’ guys get YOU all hot and bothered?”

    “It sure as fuck does.”

    “Then why be surprised?”

    Chance’s turn to grin now.

    “Why, indeed? Come on, let’s towel off. Then I want to see you stretch those big honkin’ muscles o’ yours.”

    Chance and Brock got up to go grab a towel from the equipment manager.As they walked back to the mat, Brock followed Chance’s lead and folded his singlet down, so both boys could show each other their beautifully-worked upper bodies. Chance folded his down right to the start of his pubic hair.He looked up to see Brock’s gaze riveted there and grinned to himself as he saw the material around Brock’s groin tent noticeably.

    Brock let his hands play over Chance’s body, sensuously stroking that hard, cut muscle. His voice was dry and husky as he purred his lust.

    “Damn, you’re so fucking sexy, dude.”

    Chance sat back down, stretched his legs apart and started his cool down routine.Brock’s eyes were like a laser-shot between Chance’s legs. He waited awhile before he started his own stretching, as Chance’s cut, flexing muscles and long, thick cock were too good a show to turn away from.

    Reed came over to join them.

    “I’m gonna hit it, Chance. You want to come over tonight and see the pics and plan the next part of our project?”

    Chance chirped his agreement, feeling a little guilty at what seemed like cheating on Reed. Reed, who could read Chance’s mood perfectly, didn’t want Chance to have any regrets over the fun he and this other cut stud were about to have.

    “Cool — and hey, you two dudes have fun, OK?”

    Chance smiled at him.

    “Thanks! What time tonight?”

    “How about 6, and we order a pizza?”

    “Cool. See ya then.”

    Reed smirked knowingly — and a little ruefully — at the two hot jocks, then turned to go.

    After a few more stretches, Brock realized the gym was now totally empty, so he was on Chance in a heartbeat. Soon the two boys were rolling on the mat, kissing each other with hot, hungry, open-mouthed passion, while their hands played roughly over each other’s cur muscle and hardening cocks. They cooed and hummed in wordless lust through their mashed lips. Then Brock flipped around and pushed down Chance’s singlet so he could get his mouth on Chance’s straining cock; Chance mirrored his movements, as the two boys settled into a loud, lip-smacking session of sixty-nine to get them ready for the fun to come.

    Brock let Chance’s luscious cock out of his mouth long enough to sigh.

    “Can’t wait to feel this beauty in my ass!”

    After more cock-sucking, neither boy wanting to cum too soon, they pulled off each other, aware that quite a bit of time had passed since practice ended. Chance cocked an eyebrow, and Brock gave the nod. Then both boys raced to their lockers.

    As Brock had predicted, the locker room was empty. Never had either boy undressed faster, kicking off their wrestling boots and socks and ripping off their singlets. Brock beat Chance into the showers; he turned a few on to get the room all steamed up. In a few seconds, Chance’s bare feet could be heard slapping on the concrete, as he approached. Brock let out an audible gasp as Chance’s perfectly-muscled frame came into view. This object of some of his deepest fantasies this semester, now naked here for him to pleasure and be pleasured by: it was dizzying. His eyes raked down the cut curves of Chance’s beautiful, firm torso, stopping to focus on that long, thick, still-hard cock, jutting up gloriously between his ripped, muscular quads as he walked through the shower-space towards him.

    The boys embraced immediately, cocks pressing into each other and their hands moved fast and hard over each other’s firm, wet, young flesh. They kissed hungrily through the light steam, the jets of water from the shower-heads sounding like the pulsating rush of each boy’s heightened nerves. Brock pulled back to leer at Chance, grabbing both their hard cocks together in one hand and jacking them with a slow, sensuous rhythm. Chance sighed deeply.

    “That feels so fucking nice, dude.”

    The boys just admired each other’s hard bodies under the steamy spray as Brock continued to stroke the two of them. Brock loved the feel of the hard veins running all overChance’s shaft. He traced his fingertips over them lightly. And then, like a visual rhyme, he noticed the gorgeous veins running all along Chance’s upper and lower arms. They were irresistibly lickable. Chance luxuriated in the sensation as Brock traced his tongue up and down one of his arms, ending up slurping around sexily in his arm pit, which Chance gladly raised to give the boy access.

    Chance couldn’t wait to fuck his first piece of jock ass. His cock felt good being rubbed next to Brock’s, but it was gonna feel a lot better, he knew, pumping in and out of this dude’s tight hole.

    Brock brought his head out from Chance’s pit, kissed his lover passionately, then brought the boy’s hands around to his ass, so his shower buddy could ready it for that dick. He let Chance work his hole as he studied the younger stud. His gaze dwelt on Chance’s hips – how the water ran down his massive chest and hard abs, to the cut creases of flesh on either side of his waist, running over his hipbones, v’ing down towards that huge, now achingly stiff cock. God, was he a stud. They were both giddy with the thought of the sex to come, these two lusty horn-dogs, like randy colts after their workout earlier, pumped up and ready to shoot some seed.

    Brock moaned in heat, his voice loud and raspy over the sound of the shower-spray.

    “I been praying for weeks I’d get an ass-pounding from you, bro,”

    “Well, prayer helps, my momma always says.”

    Brock cried out in deep bodily pleasure, as Chance worked one hand over his cock and balls and another continued to finger his hungry hole. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer.

    “Let’s get to it, stud! Fuck my ass, Chance! I gotta feel that big-ass dick of yours all up in my guts.”

    Chance turned Brock and pressed him against the shower well, rubbing his ass-cheeks sensually. He reached in, turned the older boy’s face towards him, and gave him a steamy kiss.

    “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this — fuckin’ such a hot, built stud as you.”

    “Me too, dude. Come on, man, I can’t wait. Throw me the best fuck you can.”

    With his wet, soapy thumbs, Chance stretched Brock’s pucker a bit more, making sure the boy was open enough, then he guided his huge, throbbing cock into the boy’s hole. It slipped in slowly but surely, Brock pushing out and wiggling his ass back to help it in.

    “Goddamn, are you big! And so fucking hard, it feels like a baseball bat in there! Feed me more, dude, I fuckin’ love gettin’ reamed by a big-dicked muscle-stud like you!”

    Chance, meanwhile, was ecstatic. He didn’t want to tip his hand that this was his first fuck, but he was absolutely blown away by the sensation. Damn! he thought, have I suddenly found my favorite thing in the world to do or what? The tight sensation of Brock’s warm, moist hole on his dick was unbelievable. He plowed slowly in and out, savoring this incredible rush, but Brock cried out, urging him on.

    “Harder, man! Faster! Deeper! Fucking pound me, man! Rip that ass up!”

    What a dick-hound, Chance laughed to himself. OK, dude, you got it. He grasped Brock’s ass tightly and began thrusting hard and fast.

    “AW SHIT, YEAH! That’s it, stud. Fucking ram me!”

    More hard, fast thrusts, bottoming out each time. After a minute or so, he wedged his cock in, nestling his balls and pubic patch right up against Brock’s ass, and kissed the gorgeous stud on the back of his neck a few times, stroking Brock’s rippling back. Then he whispered in his ear.

    “Deep enough for you stud?”

    “Damn, Chance! What a huge fucking cock you have! It feels in-fucking-credible up there. Come on, man, ride me hard, I can take it. My ass has been dreaming for a pounding from you since the first time I saw you naked.”

    “I’m glad I can make your dream come true, bro.”

    With that Chance used his powerful, athletic hips to fuck Brock fast and furious. Both boys began grunting in pure animal pleasure. Chance kept one hand on Brock’s ass, with the other he began to jack the boy, whose own hands were bracing himself against the shower walls to stabilize against the onslaught of Chance’s powerful thrusting. It felt amazing, pounding a tight hole, fisting a thick cock, all the while feeling the shower spray rush over their hard, firm muscles. Brock was absolutely loving it, too.

    “Oh yeah, man, so hot! Jack that fuckin’ jock-cock, dude!”

    The assault kept up for another couple of minutes, punctuated by hard grunts fromChance and ecstatic cries from Brock. Finally, Brock screamed he was cumming. The feel of that hot cream oozing out, bringing him the knowledge that his cocksmanship had gotten such a gorgeous hunk off, as well as those strong ass muscles clenching against his dick, was enough to send Chance, too, over the edge.

    Before his dick erupted, he panted aloud to the boy.

    “Dude, where d’you want my spunk?”

    “Fill my ass, man! Wedge that big dick in, then shoot yer seed!”

    So Chance rammed deep and pumped an enormous load into Brock.

    Exhausted, he just leaned against Brock till both boys got their bearings back. Then Chance scooped some cream out of Brock’s ass and fed it to the older boy.

    “Mmmm, oh yeah! Have some too, bro. You earned it!”

    Brock fingered himself and gave a dollop to Chance. They continued scooping and slurping and giggling till Brock’s ass was as empty as they could make it. Brock gave him a long, hard, cum-drenched kiss before he left the shower, the kind of kiss two hard, hungry young dudes give each other after a vigorous, balls-out bout of athletic sex. When they broke the clench, Brock smiled, his beard-stubbled, cum-covered face breaking into a grin of sly delight.

    “Dude, that was fucking awesome! I’d love to hook up a lot more like this if you’re up for it.”

    Chance smiled back, still a little woozy.

    “I think I can fit you in, dawg.”

    After drying off, they walked back to the lockers together, hands affectionately cupping each other’s hard, naked asses. Chance hung out nude by Brock’s locker, talking with the older boy as he dressed.

    “Seriously, Chance, this has been my fantasy all term, gettin’ dicked by you. Never dreamed it would happen, though. Hell, a lot of guys on the team are gonna be jealous as hell of me.”

    “How’s that?”

    “Aw shit, bro, you gotta know, you’re the hottest stud in the locker room. Fuck, man, us gay dudes on the team, we all drool over you.”

    Chance squinted at him in disbelief.

    “Then why’nt any of ya ever make a pass at me before?”

    “Don’t really know, man. It’s like makin’ a pass at the Marlboro Man or somethin,’ I guess – you feel like there’s not only no chance, but you’re gonna get your ass kicked for askin’. Plus, we all thought you dated women. A couple guys saw you around campus with a chick.”

    Chance laughed sheepishly, thinking of the weeks he wasted on Andrea.

    “Oh that. I was just seein’ if I was bi.”

    “And?”

    “Nope.”

    “Don’t blame ya. Body this good deserves the best sex it can get. You’re like a thoroughbred stallion that shouldn’t be wasted in harness races.”

    Then Brock shot Chance a questioning look.

    “You want me to tell the other gay studs on the team about this? I confess, I’d kinda like bragging rights to getting the first taste of your dick, but I warn you, when word of this gets around, you’ll have more hot jock ass than you can handle.”

    Chance laughed, again thinking how quickly his life has changed.

    “I don’t know ’bout that, dude — I’m so horny most days, I’m thinking I could handle quite a bit.”

    Brock reached over and stroked the boy’s long thick tool lecherously.

    “Hung stud like you? Why am I not surprised?”

    “So sure, go ahead, kiss and tell. But say, who IS gay on the team, by the way?”

    “Of the seniors, it’s me and Alex; of the juniors, just Trey; the gay sophomores are Peter and Tor; and the freshmen into dudes are Danny and you. I mean, those are the ones I know about, at least. I’m willing to bet there’s more. I mean, look at you — you had everyone fooled.”

    Chance quickly did the math in his head — damn, he thought, almost half the squad is gay! Awesome!

    Then Brock dropped one more name.

    “Oh, and Coach, of course.”

    “Coach? Seriously?”

    Chance was only half-surprised, as he remembered that erotic little bicep curl lesson earlier.

    “Hell, yes. He’s never made a pass at any of us wrestlers or anything, but a couple of us see him and his boyfriend all the time at the clubs downtown. He smiles and winks, but always plays it cool here in the gym. He doesn’t want to take advantage of his position or power, and you gotta respect that. But, fuck, I think he could have any stud on the team for the asking. His boyfriend is incredible. An ex-marine or something, like coach, only about ten years younger. He’s probably only a couple years older than I am. Fucking gorgeous. Damn, would I like a three-way with those two some time.”

    “Jesus Fuck,” was all Chance could say. The revelation of a very vibrant, previously unsuspected gay male underworld in the midst of what had before had just been ordinary life had his head swimming.

    “OK, Chance. I’ll spread the word. Prepare for more ass than a toilet seat.”

    “I’m stoked, man. The dudes you named are the best-lookin’ guys on the team!”

    As he said that, though, Chance realized there was one name above all others he was most keenly excited by: Coach Wyatt was hands-down the hottest man he’d ever seen – outside of his own daddy, of course.

  • Sea Pussy

    Inport, where trollops gravitate towards sailors like barnacles to a hull, and pussy is readily obtainable at every Norfolk bar and street corner, sailors rarely fuck shipmates. That would be gay. And everyone knows there are no gay sailors in the US Navy.

    Underway, however, the rules of engagement are substantially altered. Combating the tribulations of nautical life, cloistered for long durations without officially sanctioned releases, young men naturally seek alternative outlets. Entrenched in a competitive environment where predators and prey cohabitate, sailors… some willingly, others not as much, provide essential services.

    And honestly, who doesn’t enjoy an occasional piece of sea pussy?


    BMSA Andersson traverses Hanger Bay 1.

    Heading forward, ascending two starboard inclined vertical ladders, navigating through passageways and watertight hatches, he enters the ship’s fo’c’sle, 02-H-0-Q. Fastidiously clean, it’s maintained by Deck Department’s 1st Division Boatswain’s Mates (BM).

    Decorated with nautical iconography and brightwork, the space is a traditional ceremonial area for reenlistment, retirement, and award presentations. Its primary function, however, is for mooring and anchoring the ship – housing capstans, anchor chains, line, and various bits and chocks.

    Secluded in the aft port quarter is the division’s office.

    The sailor apprehensively knocks on the non-watertight door.

    “Enter,” responds LT Howard.

    Unadorned and austere, the office is formed by the conjunction of longitudinal frames, a non-watertight transverse bulkhead, and shell plating. A ubiquitous double bulb fluorescent fixture, flickering off-white light, is suspended above a gray Steelcase double pedestal metal desk.

    “Reporting as ordered, sir.”

    “Ah, yes Andersson…”

    Relatively fresh seafood, he resides at the bottom of the military food chain.

    The sailor performs repetitive manual labor: heaving mooring lines, connecting shots of anchor chain, working with 350 lb. detachable links, swivels, and other ground tackle, and stowing hundreds of 5-gallon paint cans in the aft 01 level boatswain’s locker.

    Muscle with a low attention span and the IQ of a bollard, the ginger boy has broad shoulders, massive biceps and triceps, a wide muscular chest with solid smooth pectorals, rippling abdominals, powerful legs, and a swole ass all wrapped in pretty pink-white skin.

    “…stand at parade rest sailor.”

    With a snap of deference in the submission, hands behind back and feet spread shoulder width apart, Andersson is on display for his superior. The sailor’s well-worn paint-splattered dungarees conform to the contours of the prominent package and alluring ass.

    And little is left to the imagination.

    “I’ve received a report chit initiated by BM1 Sanders.”

    “Fuck,” the sailor reflexively utters.

    It’s the first step in the military judicial system.

    By signing an enlistment contract, sailors surrender their civil law rights and voluntarily accept military authority and jurisdiction delineated under Navy Regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. The report chit, NAVPERS 1626/7, delineates violations.

    “You’re being charged with an article 91 infraction.”

    UCMJ Art. 91. Insubordinate Conduct Toward a Noncommissioned Officer or Petty Officer.

    Any enlisted member who (1) strikes or assaults a warrant officer, noncommissioned officer, or petty officer, while that officer is in the execution of his office; (2) willfully disobeys the lawful order of a warrant officer, noncommissioned officer, or petty officer; or (3) treats with contempt or is disrespectful in language or deportment toward a warrant officer, noncommissioned officer, or petty officer while that officer is in the execution of his office; shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.

    Division Officers are responsible for investigating alleged offenses by their subordinates. Determining disposition, wielding absolute power, LT Howard can either squelch or forward the report chit to Legal for processing, XO review, and CO’s Non-Judicial Punishment.

    “Were you disrespectful towards the BM1?”

    “Umm… there might have been a misunderstanding,” prevaricates the cautious sailor.

    Two days ago the ship conducted an underway replenishment with Mount Baker AE-34. Working at CONREP Station 7, Andersson was under the direct supervision of BM1 Sanders. Manipulating circumstances per LT Howard’s direction, he virtually ensured the BMSA’s insubordination.

    Interrogating Andersson, confronting him with inconsistencies, eyewitness reports, and irrefutable evidence, the LT enjoys watching the hapless squid squirm. An appreciative spectator, he applies additional pressure upon the miserable cephalopod.

    “Did you call the BM1 a fucking faggot?”

    “Umm… I might have. He’s gay. And everyone knows it!”

    The truth being inconsequential, as the division’s Leading Petty Officer, the BM1 is entitled to all the respect, rights, and privileges associate with his pay grade and position. It’s a military aphorism – respect the uniform, if not the man.

    “Well that’s most unfortunate.”

    An Officer’s first obligation is to maintain good order and discipline.

    And respect for rank is essential.

    “Please sir, don’t process the chit. I’ll do anything you want. I swear!”

    Unfolding as planned, the authoritative officer delights in the possibilities presented by the desperate sailor. He enjoys hunting, subjugating, and emasculating unsuspecting straight sailors – especially ginger boys… his favorite meal, transforming them into sea-pussy.

    “Perhaps we can reach an understanding,” the LT offers with a sly smile.

    Underway, many unofficial punishments exist.

    Besides Extra Military Instruction (EMI), many junior sailors willingly provide special services to their superiors to preclude Mast and the associated deleterious consequences. Demonstrating contrition, cock sucking is a particularly efficacious concession.

    “Yes… yes… anything!”

    The shrewd officer smiles with satisfaction.

    Walking slowly around the sailor, examining him from every angle, savoring the erotic potential, he confidently imagines taking extensive liberties with the boy’s ass. Aroused, his erection expands and struggles for quarters inside the constricting khaki trousers.

    “You sure Andersson?”

    “Yes sir.”

    The relieved sailor is completely unaware he’s trapped.

    “You have an amazing ass, boy.”

    Profound silence fills the compartment.

    Suddenly sailing in dangerous waters, the grin evaporates from Andersson’s face. He understands the officer’s calculated comment. The implicit offer – his ass for favorable report chit adjudication – is an unexpectedly high price for resolution of his transgression.

    “Oh fuck. Perhaps I could perform EMI, or… another service sir?” he desperately begs, attempting to avoid the terrible consequences of his indiscretion.

    Floundering, his fate hanging precariously in the balance, Andersson perspires profusely and exudes the alluring scent of Old Spice Cologne. Rich and classic, the timeless fragrance is a blend of bright citrus, warm flowers, rich vanilla, and cedar wood.

    “Service? What do you mean?”

    Although fully anticipating the counteroffer, Howard nevertheless feigns ignorance, enjoying the sailor’s rapidly increasing distress. Partial to groveling white boys, the authoritative officer forces the chagrinned sailor to explicitly beg for the privilege of sucking his superior.

    “You know, could I umm…,” the flushed sailor stammers.

    Completing a required turn over-the-barrel, obediently performing his duty, Andersson has serviced shipmates. At sea, sucking isn’t considered gay. Just a way to get stuff done. Although a consumer of pedestrian enlisted jam, he’s never sucked a commissioned officer.

    “…oh fuck, could I suck your cock?” the sailor implores.

    Allegiant to the military chain-of-command, functioning through work center supervisors, junior sailors infrequently speak directly with officers. Inexperienced, trampling over proper protocol, Andersson unprofessionally employs the vernacular of enlisted men.

    Accustomed to respectful articulation with a subservient disposition, the LT is irritated by Andersson’s temerity and crude informality. An officer and gentleman, accorded a privileged status by an act of Congress, he insists on being addressed accordingly.

    Overstepping the bounds of punctilio, the consequences are immediate.

    “What did you say sailor?” excoriates the LT.

    Immediately realizing his error, chastened by the officer’s rebuke, desperately hoping to defuse the perilous situation, Andersson begs for the privilege of blowing the authoritative Lieutenant.
    “Please sir, very respectfully request permission to service you, sir!”

    Searching the officer’s face for compassion, finding none, he’s filled with hopelessness. Having observed numerous dominant alpha males subjugate inferior shipmates, he recognizes the aggressive hunger in the Lieutenant’s eyes – like a predator staring down prey.

    “Permission denied. That’s insufficient for insubordination.”

    “But… but… I’m not gay sir,” the shocked sailor whimpers.

    At sea, sexual interactions take many forms. Contextual instead of universal, gender identification is fluid, defined more by desire than biology… where one sailor becomes the object of affection and property of another more dominant sailor or officer, transforming the strict male/ female paradigm.

    Aggressively hunted, receiving salacious solicitations, Andersson’s natural inclination is to relentlessly defend his masculinity. Fighting off persistent shipmates, he hopes to complete his enlistment without enduring the humiliation of being brutally stuffed up the ass.

    A laudable but unrealistic goal.

    Especially aboard Independence with its predatory officers.

    Every sailor understands that actions have consequences. Disobedience, insubordination, and other UCMJ indiscretions must be aggressively resolved to maintain good order and discipline. Naval life isn’t for the faint hearted. And significant sacrifices are frequently required.

    “Of course you’re not gay, Andersson.”

    Enjoying carnal familiarity with Norfolk’s best, he’s a healthy heterosexual.

    If gay, Howard would have no interest in him. After all, who wants to traverse a well-trodden path? Unquestionably, the ultimate pleasure resides in conquering a straight sailor, shattering his confidence, obliterating his pride, domesticating his spirit, stealing his masculinity.

    “It’s your choice,” advises the obdurate LT.

    Andersson is lost in thought weighing the alternatives.

    The ship’s Captain is a strict disciplinarian.

    He routinely awards the maximum combination of penalties allowable by law. It teaches perpetrator and crew that improper actions have consequences. And the results of Mast are always published in the Plan of The Day and read aloud at quarters.

    Not wanting to face the Old Man again, already serving under a suspended reduction in paygrade for indulging in recreational cannabis, Andersson is without any viable alternatives.

    Negotiations are over.

    Poised at the edge of the abyss, the distraught sailor makes a terrible life-altering decision and takes the unavoidable plunge. Consummating a Faustian Bargain, unconditionally surrendering his most valuable commodity, he accepts emasculation and the ancillary ramifications.

    “Oh fuck … okay sir,” the devastated sailor whispers.

    “Excellent choice.”

    Inordinately pleased, intoxicated with the pungent perfume of despair suffusing the compartment, the officer trembles with the unbearable pleasure of dominating the defenseless sailor. Savoring the moment, it’s a beautiful thing when a hunting expedition produces tangible results.

    “Strip.”

    With eyes distant and unblinking, Andersson removes his shirt, unfastens the web belt buckle, and unzips his dungarees. Pushing the worn trousers to the deck, the sailor stands stoically at attention with his meaty pink cock, red velvet ball bag, and plush ass on display for his superior.

    “Magnificent.”

    On his right arm is a traditional tattoo – two admiralty anchors crossed at 90 degrees, a central shank and crown with flukes at the bottom, and shackle and stock mounted on top. Superstitious, the tattoo ensures safe voyages, stability, and protection from adversity.

    “Bend over the desk.”

    And the sailor obediently descends across the sacrificial altar.

    Exercising imperium, the officer takes possession of his prize. Like an ancient priest arranging an offering to Neptune, he carefully positions Andersson – spreading legs, lifting the ass, arching the back, rotating the hips – ensuring proper alignment for deep penetration.

    “Who owns this ass, sailor?”

    “You sir,” the disconsolate boy responds.

    Maximizing the indignity, he orders Andersson to reach back and spread himself open, revealing the small and defenseless orifice. Exposed and utterly vulnerable, the nauseous sailor is immensely embarrassed… his face burning with a lifetime’s worth of humiliation and shame.

    “Awesome… so beautiful.”

    Inspecting the defenseless hole, he runs a calloused finger around the perfect little pink rosebud, softer than silk. Disdaining laborious preparations, a minuscule amount of MIL-G-18458 grease is deployed around the quivering ring and pressed inside.

    “What do you want me to do, sailor?”

    “F… fuck. Fuck me,” he responds, choking back tears.

    Departing the realm of normal boys, forfeiting his masculine birthright, the devastated sailor’s exclusive heterosexual world is ending. It was inevitable. Big fish eat little fish. And bottom dwellers never return from sea unchanged by the experience.

    “No. That’s not how a sailor asks for it. Try again.”

    “Please sir, respectfully request permission to get fucked.”

    “Better. And why do you deserve to be fucked?”

    “To teach me a lesson, sir. To respect rank.”

    “Exactly. This is going to hurt… and not just at the beginning,” he explains. The purpose of punishment is the object lesson – so the offense isn’t repeated. And pain is a great motivator and teacher of young sailors. “Remember this the next time you’re tempted to mouth off.”

    Knowledgeable fingers aggressively poke, prod, and tease the terrified sphincter. Dominated like a freshman schoolgirl behind the bleachers by members of the varsity football team, Andersson passively accepts the officer’s exploratory manipulations.

    It’s time. And they both know it.

    Howard initiates the ultimate act of domination.

    And positions his swollen dark-purple crown against the ring.

    “You feel my authority over you?”

    “Yes sir.”

    “And where is it going?”

    “Up… up inside me.”

    “That’s right,” smiles the delighted officer as he applies a little pressure. Combating the sailor’s natural inclination to resist, he incrementally increases pressure against the clenching ring. Enjoying the thrill of conquest, he savors the challenge.

    After all, the greater the effort… the sweeter the victory.

    So, he doesn’t want to breach the last line of defense too quickly.  Besides, the utilization of government property must be always be accomplished in the best interest of the Nation.

    Teasingly, he advances and retreats.

    Eventually the boy’s muscle fatigues. Slowly surrendering to the relentless pressure, the valiant ring can’t hold out forever. And a life altering beaching is imminent. Sensing an impending victory, the sadistic officer backs off, confusing the struggling sailor.

    “I’ve changed my mind.”

    “What? Oh thank you sir!”

    Unexpectedly, Howard smacks Andersson’s head against the desk.

    The sailor is momentarily dazed.

    “Just kidding.”

    Lunging forward, the rapacious ebony cock breaches the distracted ring and violently penetrates the stunned sailor. Stretching and destroying the devastated chute, the thickening shaft storms through the convulsing passageway until two-blocked.

    “Fuuucccckkkkkkk!!” he screams in agony.

    “Oh yeah. So tight.”

    Impaled, intense pain radiates throughout his inner core. His undulating chute grips the shaft, futilely fighting the insistent invader as it rearranges internal organs.

    Hammering away, brutally thrusting back-and-forth, splitting the ass wide open, the LT ensures the sailor feels every fucking inch. Vitiating the pristine landscape, staking claim to Andersson’s masculinity, he delights in destroying the boy’s identity and self-esteem.

    It’s another fine Navy day for good order and discipline.

    And valuable lessons are learned.

    “What are you sailor?”

    “Sea… sea pussy,” acknowledges the sobbing sailor.

    Disgracefully fucked, he’ll never be the same again.

    And he drowns in the new reality.

    BM1 Sanders enters the division office. He’s not alone. Several other petty officers have been invited to watch and participate. Extracting and stroking his cock, the BM1 violently bitch slaps Andersson, and stuffs it inside the devastated sailor’s mouth.

    “Who’s the fucking faggot now?” he laughs.

    Upon completion, the LT gives Andersson to his petty officers.

    A gangbang commences… a long night of debauchery.

    1st Division has a new sea pussy.

    And word quickly spreads.


    Comments and readers’ experiences with sailors, shipboard or ashore, are always of interest.

  • Tackling The World

    I text Dani to see if she wants to come to breakfast with Mum and I which she says that she will because she was coming to the airport with Isabella to see me off. I make sure that everything is packed other than the clothes that I am going to wear tomorrow and then I hit the bed and go to sleep.

    The next morning, I wake up and look out the hotel window for the last time reflecting on everything that happened while I have been here and everything that could happen today. I go and have a shower and just take a bit of time in there washing my body, self-massaging everything trying to relieve the tension in my muscles. I get out of the shower after about 15 minutes and get dressed as I take my bags down to my rental car that I will drop off back at the airport when I leave.

    I head to the café where we agreed to have breakfast and I get a coffee before everyone else gets there, I don’t know whether Dad will come along but I hope that he is there. In the end, Dad doesn’t turn up but Mum does and tells me that Dad is playing Bowls this morning which he couldn’t get out of at short notice. It’s disappointing that he didn’t come but at the same time I know that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to come which makes me happy.

    Having all the girls of my family together makes me so happy and it feels like old times when I used to take Dani and Mum out for lunch or dinner for our catch-ups and then with Isabella coming along it meant that we would have the three generations together. I can see a change in Mum who is treating me like she always would before I came out and left makes me feel important and loved completely again. “Thank you for coming Mum, I only have to apologise for it happening on my last day here,” I say looking at the three girls in my life all happy and smiling widely.

    “No need to apologise, Joshua, you didn’t do anything wrong in your life, we were the ones who treated you awfully and I know now that you are everything that we wanted you to ever be,” she says with a mix of tears from her eyes and a smile on her face with me smiling. I stand up and hug her tightly taking in how special this moment truly is for us all.

    Sadly, the morning has to come to an end as I have to head to the airport “Would you mind if I came as well?” Mum says to Dani and I as we stand up “Of course you can come with us I’ll take you Mary” Dani says as she drags Isabella away from her colouring book. “Actually, if Mum doesn’t mind, I wouldn’t mind driving her with me and then you can drop her home Dani, if that’s alright”. Both Mum and Dani smile and think it is a good idea and we head off.

    In the car on the way to the airport, Mum starts asking all the awkward questions that I thought I was able to avoid “So… is there anybody special in your life at the moment?” she asks putting me on the spot with me scrambling to try and find the answer. “Well… um… it’s…” I stammer trying to think of what I have to say but Mum stops me “It’s alright Joshua, I know that whoever it is would be somebody good for you and I want you to at least tell me if something does good happens for you,” she says patting my arm and smiling. I’m blushing a lot after Mum put me on the spot because honestly, how the hell do I have that conversation with her about my love life and then if anything else comes up.

    “Do you have a close group of friends over there at least that you can rely on?” she asks taking a genuine interest in my life to which I nod “I sure do, I’ve got some really good friends and I spend a bit of time with my mate Ben and his fiancé and Dad who are caring about me too because Ben lost his Mum not that long ago and needed someone to talk to” I say smiling thinking about how good things could be on either side of the world for me. Mum smiles “You always knew how to make people feel better and was always a good friend to everyone and I’ve always been proud of you with everything in your life,” Mum says which takes me aback a little bit because I don’t know whether she meant everything or was just ignoring the whole coming out thing.

    I never thought that Mum would be a reason that I never wanted this trip to come to an end but it was one of the most enjoyable conversations I’ve had for such a long time. I park the car and do all the steps of returning it to the hire company. I walk into the airport and find somewhere to sit for a while and when I get there, I see a whole group of people that are there to surprise me that I wasn’t expecting.

    Standing there with a bon voyage sign I see Dani and Isabella together with my brother Alex and his kids with Laura obviously not there, I see Scott with them and most surprising of all is Dad, standing there with a big smile on his face. I’m stunned beyond belief that Dad turned up to the airport I wander over there almost crying about how many people are here for me, Dad walks up to me and hugs me “Sorry I couldn’t come to breakfast this morning but I didn’t want you to go without saying goodbye” he says wiping away the tears from his eyes, a genuine sense of anguish over his usual gruff emotionless exterior. He pulls me to the side and apologises for everything which I take as being genuine because I know that he doesn’t show emotion very often so I can tell he does mean it.

    Heading back to the group, we wander and find a spot to all sit down together and just spend some last moments together. I smile and enjoy the company after I check my bags in and go and sit back down with my family for a while just talking about everything. We all agree that we need to talk to each other more and agree to organise weekend Video chats with each other so that we can see each other and keep each other updated. Scott comes and sits next to me and puts his arm around me while my parents go for a walk with Isabella to buy me a present. “Things are going really well aren’t they,” he says to me with a big smile on his face “Yeah they are, I didn’t think that I would have a farewell party here for me but it’s been really good” Scott cuddles into my shoulder as we sit together.

    My parents come back as Scott quickly pulls away from me before Mum smiles “You two can have your moment together” she says as I look surprised at her and before I can react by saying anything she smiles “You don’t need to hide anything from us anymore remember” I smile and blush a bit but we don’t hug in front of Isabella just yet because we don’t want Dani having to explain anything just yet about Daddy and Uncle Scott as she calls him.

    Not long before it’s time to head to the gate and leave, Isabella gives me the biggest hug that she ever has and gives me a bag with a present that she picked out for me. It’s a Kangaroo toy that she wants me to have with me all the time and tells me that she’s already named it Joey for me. I start crying as she gives it to me and I say my last farewells to everyone.

    I take a few moments to spend with Scott on my own and we go somewhere private for a moment, “I didn’t expect for us to hang out so much during my trip or for anything like this to happen but I just don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have you here” I say wiping my face as Scott smiles and nods “I know, I mean who knew we would get back up to our old fun and then create something special and new” he says smiling “You came here not knowing what would happen with your family and in the end, you’re leaving with the love of your family and a damn hot boyfriend even if I do say so myself” Scott says with a cheeky grin.

    “You actually mean that last part?” I say looking at Scott who gives me a kiss “Of course I do babe, you don’t think I was joking about falling for you did you Joshua because if you did, I would have to beat you up here and now in the airport” I laugh at Scott’s comment “You could never beat me up bro, couldn’t even land a punch on my at sparring training we both laugh before kissing again. We break away from the kiss “I love you Josh” he says as we kiss again before I reply “I love you too Scott” we have to break away because it’s time for me to go and I head back to my family at the gate and we take our final moments together with someone being kind enough to take a photo of us altogether.

    I hug everyone and go through the gate towards the departure area and out to the plane where I smile to myself thinking about how everything actually worked itself out in the end as I leave and get on the plane reflecting on how special everything ended up being.


    This is the final chapter of this part of Josh’s story but it’s not the end of Josh’s story because there will be plenty more to tell soon; I have a new story project that I am working on and will be up next week.

  • Eric & Matt

    My father’s boss, Thomas Smith, had come to the house to discuss some issues from work.  He was also there to offer me a job.  I had just graduated with a computer science degree, and I knew that the IT department at Smith and Company was too much for Eric Smith to handle on his own.  Eric’s father ran the company, so I wasn’t sure how keen I was on working for the boss’s son; however, I understood that the pay was going to be good.  Mr. Smith knew I was a responsible young man, so I couldn’t wait to hear the offer.

    But I was also interested in hearing what was going on that forced the two of them to meet away from the office. I was as close as I dared be.

    “So, John, the forensic audit came in, and it turns out that Ray Hubbard has been diverting funds. They’ll be arresting him this afternoon. We need to look for another head accountant. Unless you think one of the junior guys can handle it.”

    “Fuck,” said my dad, “I was hoping it was just an accounting error. I’m glad you convinced me to go outside for an audit.”

    “I’m putting you in charge of his replacement. You do what you think is best, and I’m going to step back from that. Now, about the IT job.”

    “Well, Tom, I’ve talked to Matt about it. I think it would be a good move. I think his only concern is working for your son.”

    “Yeah, I can understand that. Eric is smart, but he’s a fucking long-haired geek faggot. And he smells horrible all the time. I’ve left notes for him about bathing more often, but nothing changes. After the divorce, he seemed to become a momma’s boy. I love the kid, don’t get me wrong, but he’s an A number one weirdo.”

    I thought back to when Eric and I were about twelve. He told me about two boys in his neighborhood that charged five dollars for someone to watch one of them perform oral sex on the other. I kept thinking afterward that I wished Eric had asked me to do oral sex with him. I wondered what it’d be like to suck him, and I wondered what it would have been like for him to suck me. I wondered how soon it’d be before I’d see him again. I took a deep breath.
    Eric’s father was still talking. “Eric does a great job, though. He’s just overwhelmed, and I’m not sure he’ll want to manage someone, so I’m thinking about letting them be on equal footing–they can divide up the workload.”

    “Sounds good to me; let me go get Matthew.” My dad came up to the first landing and saw me hiding there. He gave me the stinkeye. “Matt!” he shouted. “Will you come down.”
    I turned so I was shouting back up the stairs. “Be right there.” I gave him the stinkeye right back. I waited a few moments and then I came bounding down the stairs. “Good morning, Mr. Smith.” I smiled.

    “Hello, Matt. Are you ready to start work tomorrow?”

    “Maybe,” I smiled even more broadly.

    “Here’s the offer letter.” He retrieved a piece of paper from his bag.

    I took the letter and sat in a chair. My father had already told me what to expect in the letter. The salary was more, twenty thousand more. I tried to remain calm. I turned to Mr. Smith. “I accept. Do you want me to report to work tomorrow, then?”

    “That will be perfect. I’ll let Eric know that you’ll be joining him, and you two can decide how to divide the responsibilities of the department after HR gets done with all the paperwork.” He turned to my father. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow, John.”

    After closing the door, my dad said, “I guess you’ll be moving out, on your own and leaving me alone in this big old house.”

    “Not on your life, Dad. I’m not done aggravating you, yet. In fact, I think I’ll go in your bathroom, take a shit, forget to flush, take a shower, and use up all your towels.”

    “So, status quo.” He laughed, and so did I.

    Has anyone ever questioned the stupidity of HR training? I’m a grown-ass man. Do I need to be told not to call people names, not to talk about their private parts? I was even told not to tell a guy that I like a shirt he’s wearing and ask him where he got it because someone might be offended. Offended that I like his shirt? What kind of fucking world is this? The bottom line from all the videos and presentations: don’t talk to anyone at work; don’t look at anyone at work. With my first paycheck, I’m joining Grindr.

    I hadn’t seen Eric since we were about twelve years old. I remember he was shy and awkward. I’d heard he graduated from college at age twenty and had been working here ever since. I would not have recognized him. He was six feet two; still scrawny, he probably weighed one hundred twenty. He was wearing an ugly plaid shirt that wasn’t tucked in. He’d mismatched the buttons, so one side was lower than the other. He was wearing a dangly earring in one ear and a stud in the other. Worst of all, he had his hair pulled up in a man bun.

    Maybe the training in HR was so I wouldn’t tell him that he had done everything to detract from his perfectly chiseled face with the perfect cheekbones. As I got near him, I realized that his brilliantly white and straight teeth were no match for his soiled shirt, was that mustard, I hoped, or his sour smell.

    We didn’t make any small talk; we didn’t say how good it was to see one another again. He got right to business. “I made a to-do list here in this book. I thought we could initial and date it when we get the job finished, or write notes about it. I don’t know whether we should update the page every day or every week.

    “I think that every day keeps a better log, but it could end up being a lot of writing.”

    “That’s what I was wondering,” said Eric. So we’ll just add tasks at the bottom of the list, and we take the next job at the top of the list.”

    “OK,” I nodded.

    “And if one of us is stymied by the task, we can talk about it. There could be things that one of us is better suited for or things that we should do together.”

    “I agree,” I said, but I found it interesting that he used the word ‘stymied.’

    “Let’s meet back here at four-forty-five to see how things are wrapping up.”

    The day went smoothly as far as I could tell. I retrieved my lunch from my father’s mini-fridge and ate alone in the breakroom before going about the next items on the to-do list. I was surprised at how quickly the afternoon went. I got two printers back online and set up a workstation in a cubicle that was scheduled to be occupied in two days.

    My next task was to repair a station that had intermittent problems with connectivity. I wasn’t surprised once I saw the mess of wires under the desk. Half of them looked worn from being kicked. The whole thing needed to be rewired with undamaged cables. I began to clean the area. I had about half of the cables removed and labeled when Eric showed up.

    “Hey, man, it’s almost four-thirty. You have a good stopping point?”

    “This might be a never-ending mess,” I chuckled. “I’ll need to work on it tomorrow.” I stood up and his smell made my eyes water. I would have to say something, just how?

    I followed him back to our official work area. He had already updated the logbook. I took a few minutes to update my part.

    “Did things go OK?” he asked.

    “Yeah, they did. I’m going to like it here.”

    “I’m glad,” said Eric. “I remember you from when we were little, and you were always nice to me. I used to pretend you were my friend, and I’d ask my mother to let you visit. She didn’t want people to come over, and she didn’t like it when my father took me places. I didn’t like going to most places because, you know, people aren’t always nice.”

    “I wish I’d known that. I always had fun when you came over,” I told him.

    “Maybe we can do things after work as real friends do.” His tone was quiet and soft; he was lonely. His voice told me so.

    “We could… um… grab a bite to eat, I suppose.”

    He smiled. How could his teeth be so white? His smile was nice. “I’d like that, Matt.”

    “I need to say something to you.” I saw him frown. “Hey, I’m not going to say anything unless you realize that I’m doing this because I’m your friend.”

    “You hate my hair, don’t you. My dad’s always making fun of it.”

    “Eric, this isn’t about your hair.” I stood up. “Actually, you’re right. I don’t like your hair. Well, that’s not really true, it’s the way you wear it. I don’t like it when guys put their hair up.”

    “But it gets in my face.”

    “You need to get it cut,” I said.

    “But I don’t want to be like everyone else.” He was still frowning. “I’m different. I want to look different.”

    “Even if you got a haircut like someone else, it would not be the same because it’d still be you. And, anyway, this isn’t just about your hair. How often do you brush your teeth, Eric?

    “What’s wrong with my teeth?”

    “Nothing, Eric. Your teeth are perfect. You have a beautiful smile. How often do you take care of them?”

    “Three times a day.”

    “And how often do you take a shower and change your clothes?”

    “I get nervous in the shower, so I wash with a dish towel unless I get muddy or something. And I like these clothes. I wear them for a few days and then air them out. That’s the way my mother taught me.”

    I saw his lip tremble. I needed a way to say this next part and not hurt his feelings. “Eric, when I first saw you this morning, I wanted to run up to you and hug you. You’re right; we were friends when we were little, and although it had been a while since we saw each other, that hadn’t changed. We hadn’t seen each other because of our parents, not because we’d had a fight or anything. The point is, I couldn’t hug you. Your clothes smell bad; airing them out doesn’t get rid of the smell.”

    “Oh.” The way he said it made me feel as if I’d broken his heart. “But my mother says not to use the washing machine because it wears out your clothes.”

    “Leaving dirt in them is bad for them. The oils and acids from your body damage the fibers.” I wasn’t sure how much of that was true, but I’d always assumed it, so that’s what I told him.
    “Does your apartment complex have a laundry?”

    “There’s a washing machine in my apartment? It’s one with a dryer on the top. Mom says those make your clothes shrink.”

    “Only if you use it incorrectly.” His mother had done him a big disservice.”

    “Let’s go to your place before we go out to eat. OK? We can get your clothes clean, and I’ll bet you’ll feel a lot better.”

    “You still want to get something to eat with me?”

    “Silly,” I smiled. “We’re friends. Of course I do. Should I follow you, or should we ride together?”
    “I walk to work,” said Eric.

    “Yeah? Where do you live?”

    “Baker and 14th.”

    “Fuck. Eric, that’s five miles from here.”

    “So? It’s good exercise. And I don’t have a real reason to get home fast.”

    I just imagined how sweaty he’d be when he finally got home. “I’ll drive.”

    On the way to his place, Eric pointed out various landmarks on the way there. He was surprised at how quickly we made it, and he had me laughing when he would bring up things we’d done when we were little kids that I had forgotten about.

    He opened the door to his apartment, and as I went in, I noticed the smell of sweaty socks.
    “Where’s the washer?” I asked. He led me to the small closet next to his bedroom. I examined the washer and realized we had no soap. “Do you have vinegar?”

    He sighed and went to the kitchen and brought me an unopened bottle of white vinegar.
    “Here’s how we do this,” I told him. I started the washer so it began to fill with warm water. “Put a cup of vinegar in.”

    “Do you want a measuring cup?”

    “No, I’ll just eyeball it.” I dumped in what seemed like a cup. “You want to mix the vinegar with the water before adding clothes. Now, bring me a pair of shorts, underwear, and some socks. Just one set of each.”

    He came back with what I’d requested. He handed them to me. I thought I would vomit from the smell. I put all of them in the washer. “Take off the shirt you’re wearing. It needs to be washed as well.”

    “Matt, why are you doing this?”

    “Eric, we’re friends; we’re also co-workers. It’s like we’re partners. Not only do I want you to present the best image to the people we work with. I want people to look up to you. Selfishly, I want to be able to stand next to you when we’re at meetings. Honestly, Eric, your personal hygiene needs to change. You need to take care of all of you and your clothes the way you take care of your teeth.”

    He removed his shirt and handed it to me. I put it in the washer and started the cycle.
    I turned and looked at him. He had to be the thinnest person I’d ever seen. He tilted his chin up and looked at me. His eyes seemed slightly moist. Fuck, I heard myself think. If it weren’t for that stupid man-bun, he’d be really hot. “OK, let’s sort the rest of your clothes, and then you’re going to take a shower. I want you to wash your hair and scrub every inch of your body.”

    The corners of his mouth lifted in a closed-lip smile, and I noticed the little cleft he had in his chin. My dick twitched. “Sooner we start, sooner we’re done, and we can go out for some fun. Not that washing clothes isn’t fun.”

    He chuckled.

    I realized that I was honestly enjoying helping him, spending this small domestic episode with him.

    He made a pile of underwear near the door. I know there are guys who are turned on my dirty underwear, but I couldn’t believe how strong the musky scent of a dirty crotch emanated from the pile. “These are all of your underwear?”

    “Except for the pair I’m wearing. I have seven.”

    “And you air them out as well?”

    “Well, if I leak or something, I rinse them out in the sink.”

    I heard the washing machine’s agitator change direction. I wondered if I should have used more vinegar. I questioned putting more in for the rinse cycle.

    “Pants there and socks there and shirts over here.”

    He made neat piles.

    “We’re going to do towels, too, but after these are done. OK, time to strip. Put what you’re wearing in a pile. Check your pockets.” As he removed the rest of his clothing, he dropped them into the appropriate pile.

    When he was standing next to me completely naked, I turned and looked at him. He was so skinny, he was gaunt. His dick seemed large for his body, although it was about the same size as mine. He appeared to have about seven inches of erect penis on him.

    “It’s exciting to get clean clothes, isn’t it.”

    “Huh?”

    He didn’t get my joke. “Never mind. Into the bathroom.” I followed him into a spotless bathroom. In fact, his entire apartment was as neat as a pin. Immaculate. I started the shower. I took the bar of Dove from the sink and grabbed a washcloth. I saw a bottle of shampoo-conditioner combination on the back of the toilet. “Get into the shower and wash your hair.”

    He took a deep breath and got in. He undid the bun and allowed his hair to fall. It was about shoulder-length and scraggly. He ran his fingers through it, gently forming a lather. He rinsed the soap out and lathered a second time. Once, he had rinsed his hair a second time. I gave him the washcloth and the bar of soap. “Remember, every inch of you gets scrubbed with the soap. I’m going to check on the clothes.”

    The washer was almost finished, so I went into his kitchen to find some aluminum foil. I opened what looked like a pantry door and found it easily. He was certainly the most organized person I’d ever known. I took a sheet and made a ball with it, and after putting the box back and closing the pantry door, I went back to the washing machine. It had finished so I moved the clothes to the dryer, tossed in the foil ball, and started the dryer.

    I began working on washing the underwear. How could such a sweet man live like this? What had his mother told him? A horrible thought ran through my head. Did she know this type of behavior would ostracize him? Did she do it on purpose, or was she ill?

    “Matt!” Eric called my name from the bathroom. I went in and he was still in the shower. “Am I as clean as you wanted?”

    I approached him. “Lift your arms.” I buried my face in his wet armpit. It smelled like Dove soap. I switched to the other side, same nice smell. “Smells nice,” I told him.

    “I washed really well around my dick and my ass, too. My skin feels really nice.”

    “Dry off, and I’ll check on the clothes.”

    Eric stepped out of the shower, and I noticed his toes. His toenails, more precisely.

    “We need to get you a manicure and a pedicure.”

    “You’re putting an awful lot of things on the list.” He smiled with a slight chuckle.

    “We can do some of them tomorrow.” I went to the dryer. “Almost finished. Another ten minutes. Finish drying off, and when your clothes are dry, we’ll go for dinner.” I tried not to watch Eric as he finished toweling, but I was drawn to the way his ass and leg muscles flexed. I imagined removing my clothes and pressing into him. He turned and looked at me. I glanced away quickly, but not before I saw his cheeks redden. My face grew warm as well. I leaned back and waited as the dryer counted down. I could sense his standing next to me, but I resisted looking at him.

    Finally, the buzzer sounded.

    “I didn’t know that it did that,” said Eric.

    “When it’s done drying. Here.” I handed him his clothes. “I’ll put the next batch in the dryer and get more washing.” I went into the living room when I was done. Eric was seated and tying his shoes. He stood up.

    “So how is this?”

    I walked up to him. His hair hung down on his face, but he smelled nice. I hugged him. “You smell really good.”

    He smiled and hugged me back. “You’re the best friend I ‘ve ever had.”

    “Same for me. What do you want to eat? What’s your favorite?”

    “My father once took me for some fried oysters when I was little. My mother said they were disgusting things, but I like them. I’ve always wanted more.”

    “You know that you could have had them anytime you wanted them, right?”

    “No. When I ate them the first time, I was with my dad. He liked me then. He doesn’t anymore.”

    “He does love you. I heard him say so to my dad. He just doesn’t understand you.”

    “But, Matt, you like me, right.”

    “Yes. I do.”

    “Then let’s get some fried oysters. Friends should never eat fried oysters alone.” Eric smiled at me and off we went.

    An hour and a half later, our stomachs were filled with oysters and iced tea, and we were walking back to the car. “This place does haircuts,” Eric said as we walked past a hair and nail salon. “Let’s check it out.”

    We went in and I was surprised when he told the cosmetologist that he wanted a haircut like mine but a little longer on the sides. We left with Eric looking very sexy and appointments for pedicures the next day. I took him back home, and he folded the clothes from the dryer as I got another load going.

    “So, are you going to take your shower tonight before bed or in the morning?”

    “In the morning so I smell the freshest I can.” He offered me water, but I declined. I need to wash the sheets. I noticed a bit ago that they don’t smell very fresh, and I don’t have any others.”

    “You’ve got clean clothes for tomorrow.”

    “Yeah, I do.”

    I worried that it was too soon after seeing him again in such a long time, but I stepped closer to him. Maybe it was the oysters. “You know, Eric.”

    He turned and our eyes locked.

    “I’ve got clean sheets at home.”

    “You mean at your dad’s house?”

    “Yep. You could come to spend the night? Why don’t we bring the clothes for tomorrow with us, and you stay with me tonight?”

    “You think that’s a good idea, Matt? I mean especially since you’re the sexiest guy I know, and you’ve been making my dick rock hard since I first saw you this morning.”

    I moved my cheek next to his and my hand brushed in front of his crotch. “I think you’ve been making me harder than I have made you.” His hand gripped my dick through my pants.

    “I don’t think so.” He chuckled and smiled.

    My dick throbbed.

    “Oh, well now,” said Eric. “What was that?”

    “You know what that fucking was. You’ve been doing that to me all day. Come home with me. Maybe we can do what I’ve wanted to do since we were twelve.”

    “You’ve wanted to be with me since we were twelve?” Eric moved his head so that our temples were touching.

    “Uh-huh. Since you first told me about oral sex, I wanted to do it with you. And even more.” I felt Eric’s hand moved to the side of my head. His fingers moved through my hair.

    “Oh, Matt.” He turned his head slightly and rubbed his lips across mine.

    I was sure I released some precum into my underwear.

    “Get your clothes, Eric.”

    Without saying a word, he retrieved a paper sack from his kitchen. I watched him put a clean pair of underwear and shirt into the back. With a slight panic in his voice, he said, “the pants aren’t washed yet.”

    “It’s OK to wear those again, you’ve only had them on for a few hours.”

    I saw him smile, and my heart began to beat faster. I took his hand and kissed him before we got back in my car.

    “It’s been so long since I was at your house, Matt.”

    “I remember how upset I was when my dad told me that your parents were living apart and you wouldn’t be coming over anymore. He told me you had moved, but he didn’t know where. I would have tried to visit you if I’d known where you were.”

    “My mother wouldn’t have let me see you. She’d caught me writing down directions to your house that I got on the Internet. She forced me to sit on the couch for three days without any food for trying to meet with the people that ruined her life.”

    “It sounds awful.”

    “Yeah, but she can’t keep me away from you now.”

    I pulled into the driveway. I didn’t recognize the car that I parked next to. Eric and I went into the house to find my father with his. “Hey, Dad. Hello, Mr. Smith. Is everything OK?”

    “We’re just talking work stuff,” said my father. “Who is this you have with you?”

    I turned to look at Eric. “This is Eric, Dad.”

    My father’s face froze. I saw Mr. Thomas’s mouth drop open.

    “Hi, Dad,” said Eric.

    Eric’s father stood up. “What the fuck happened to you? You look fucking amazing.” His father moved closer to him and put his arms out. “I didn’t recognize you, son.”

    Eric hugged his father. “Matt took me out to dinner. He didn’t like the way my hair looked with it pulled up, so I got a haircut. No big deal.”

    “Except that you look so handsome.”

    “Dad.” Eric’s tone was that of embarrassment.

    I decided to embarrass him a little further.  “Well, he was handsome before. He was just hiding it. Anyway, we’ve got some work things we’re going to discuss, so we’re going upstairs for a top-secret meeting. We’re going to work late into the night, I’m sure. So, no interruptions, thank you.” I headed for the stairs.

    “Nice to see you again, Mr. Johnson. I love you, Dad.” Eric followed me up the stairs. My father told me that Mr. Smith had started to cry from happiness in seeing the change in Eric.

    When I closed and locked the door to my room, I began to wonder whether the feelings I’d felt as a kid, the ones that made me question whether I was in love with Eric and betrayed by his parents were valid. Were the feelings I’d had earlier a rekindling of those feelings, or was this a new fire that was starting.

    “I want to take a shower before we get into bed,” I told Eric.

    “I want to take one with you. I’d wanted you to join me earlier, but I was afraid to ask you. I won’t be afraid to ask you in the future.”

    “I’d be happy to have you join me,” I told him.

    Once in the shower, I scrubbed his back with my loofah, and he scrubbed mine. I would not have shared my loofah with anyone else in the world. I wondered whether all the kissing we were doing with the water running over our heads would cause chapped lips. By the time we got out of the shower, neither of us had been cleaner, not in our entire lives. As we stood, facing one another, I tilted my head up slightly to look into his eyes. I pulled a towel from the stack and covered his head with it. I took another and wrapped it around his shoulders. He grabbed one and wrapped it around me. Between kissing, toweling, blotting, and playing with the towels, we spent over fifteen minutes getting dry so we could head to bed.

    We stood next to the bed looking at it. Both of us had erections that confirmed that we were within a quarter of an inch of one another in length. “This is the first time I’ve had another guy in my room, so you’ll be the first guy in my bed.”

    Eric dropped to his knees. “I don’t want you to ever need another guy in your bed. I know that’s not likely, but I’m willing to chance it. But it starts with friendship and respect, which we already have. It builds with keeping the other person happy, fulfilled, and so many other things. I hope this makes you happy.” He put his hand on my hips and slid my hard penis into his mouth. Everything he did was as I had imagined. His tongue moved across my shaft as he pulled me deep into his mouth; there was a brief resistance as he swallowed my head into his throat and buried his nose in my pubic hair. It was a completely new sensation that overwhelmed my senses. It only took minutes and I was coming. He swallowed all my seed, and when he pulled his mouth off me and looked up at me, I could easily imagine our doing that every night of my life.

    Eric sat on the bed and by the touch of his hand, I knew he wanted me to sit next to him. He kissed my hand. “I have a fake penis named ‘Matthew’ at home, and I’ve practiced for this moment.”

    “You named your fake penis after me?” I chuckled and smiled and teared up.

    “I didn’t officially name him, but that’s what I’ve always called him.”

    “So when you played with it, oh, excuse me, when you played with him, you thought of me?”

    “Yeah, and when I found out that you were going to work with me, I was ecstatic and terrified.”

    “And did you imagine this?” I pushed him back and went down on him. I was nowhere near as good as he was, but he was moaning. I stopped and kissed him. I moved to his nipples; he moaned even more loudly. His feet were still on the floor, and I got between his knees and licked his scrotum. I sucked his balls up to my lips and then into my mouth.

    I bobbed my head up and down his shaft again a few times, and he came. I tried to swallow, but I could only get some of it. The rest dribbled down my chin. Eric sat up and laughed; he wiped my chin clean and then kissed me.

    I got up and turned off the light. I moved back to the bed and pulled the cover down. “Let’s get under the covers.”

    We snuggled together. “Matt, I need to tell you something.”

    “Tell me.”

    “I don’t like butt stuff. It kind of disgusts me.”

    “You mean intercourse.”

    “Yeah, that’s what I mean,” said Eric.

    “I’m glad to hear that, actually. I’ve tried playing with my hole, and I didn’t like it.”

    “You’re perfect, Matt.”

    “I’m not perfect, Eric.”

    “Well, you’re perfect for me, Matt.” Eric wrapped his arms around me.

    I had a feeling that he was perfect for me, too.

  • Diverted Flight

    The reason I wanted to be a lawyer was the man who lived next door. His name was Mr. Johnson. He was nicer than my father. He never beat his son. He never got drunk. He took his son to baseball games. Mr. Johnson was a lawyer, and I wanted him to be my dad. When I was a teenager, I wanted him to be my secret lover. I never had fantasies about other boys just about Mr. Johnson. He was a corporate lawyer, so I wanted to be a corporate lawyer.

    I’m not sure whether my desires about Mr. Johnson kept me from dating. I cannot imagine that I actually expected him to show up one day and confess that he had always loved me and wanted me. I wanted to believe that I was just focused on the prize. Whatever the reason, I never had an interest in anyone until my senior year of college. His name was Liam. We were in the same study group for a Constitution class that was part of our pre-Law studies.

    Liam was friendly toward me. He invited me to guy events like watch parties for baseball games. He shared jokes with me. He even invited me to a guys-only party at the lake when his dad brought their boat down. When his father would try to redirect his behavior, Liam would tell him that it wasn’t his circus and he wasn’t his monkey. His dad usually backed down. I attended all these things hoping he might confess that he was actually interested in me as more than a friend. Or maybe he would tell me that he was really horny and would ask me to help him out with a blowjob, as a friend, of course.

    I’m a smart guy, but I’m also an idiot. Liam had more girls following him around than a boy band has girl followers. They giggled and laughed and tried to get his full attention. I know he was having sex with several of them, but I still hoped it was just a phase he was going through. Maybe he was covering up his gayness to get into law school. That was the idiot part of me.

    Every Friday, the same routine occured. Liam knew he would be getting some girl to go off with him. He acted so self-assured and cocky. I hated that about him, but still, I wanted to be with him.

    The hopelessness of the situation became apparent to me when I saw him go into his room with two girls. The next time I talked with him, I searched his blue eyes. I found nothing there for me. I decided to cut him out of my life, but it was difficult. I saw him less often, but I was still drawn in. I began to show up less often at parties. Sometimes I gave an excuse via text. When he was in the room, I lied to myself that he might see me differently. When he wasn’t around, my heart ached to see him.

    The day of graduation finally arrived, and I fought the tears that wanted to spill forth at the thought that I would never see him again. I knew that it was best that I not see him again. After graduation, he came up to me and hugged me. My eyes filled with tears. “It’s an emotional day for sure,” Liam said. He held my gaze for longer than I expected. I thought maybe, at this last moment. “I’m going to miss all the fun we had.” Then he turned and walked off. I was left standing there with my heart torn from within me.

    * * * *

    Imagine my surprise when I saw Liam at first year orientation for law school. I was friendly and polite. He didn’t have his fan club around him, and he seemed serious about things. He came up and shook my hand. He told me he wasn’t sure if he would get in, so he didn’t want to say anything.

    “I’m putting my party days behind me. I’d like to be a better study partner than I was. I didn’t really pull my weight.”

    I nodded. “Well, you were involved in other activities.”

    “Maybe we can put the past in the past.”

    “I’ll not mention it again,” I promised him.

    We interacted as colleagues during the next three years, but I made sure we didn’t get too friendly. I still had feelings for him. I realized that the feelings weren’t going away. Every now and then he would fill my thoughts as I pleasured myself late at night. I made sure I had other plans when he asked me to attend non-school events. Life was difficult enough without my hoping a straight man would turn gay for me.

    After graduation, I turned into a corporate cog in a big international company. I spent most days reading contracts. After about a year, I started to travel to other cities to read contracts or to explain contracts. It was not the exciting life I expected.

    I had been transferred to Chicago with a promotion; although, it sure didn’t feel like one. I was on my way back from LA when a winter storm advanced faster than expected, and our plane was diverted to Dallas because O’Hare was closed. As soon as I could use my cell phone, I secured a room at the Airport Hyatt. The plane stopped at the gate, and I waited for the passengers to deplane. There was no reason to push and shove. I took my carryon and made my way to the concourse. I followed the signs to the exit from the gates. I wondered whether I should grab a bite to eat while still here, or should I get room service. I was thinking that I’d be spending another lonely night with my hand when I saw Liam sitting in one of the many airport bars.

    He looked sad and pale. I thought that I had been successful in putting him out of my mind for the past two years. I wanted to walk past him, but I couldn’t. I walked up to him and sat in the next seat. His eyes seemed tired. “Liam?”

    He looked up at me. His eyes seemed to brighten as he recognized me. “Joshua, what are you doing here?”

    “An act of God.”

    “God sent you?” he asked. “But I’ve been praying to see you again for the past two years. What took so long?”

    I sat in the chair next to him. I wasn’t sure what to say. I looked at the drink he had in his hand. “What’s in that?”

    “It’s rum and coke. I use it to dull the pain of loneliness.”

    I took it from him and drank it.

    “But I wasn’t finished with it.”

    I turned to the bartender. “Does he owe you anything?”

    The bartender shook his head. “Liam, when does your plane leave?”

    “It doesn’t. Cleveland’s closed.”

    “OK. Grab your stuff and come with me.”

    Liam smiled. “You have a place staked out at one of the gates?”

    “Maybe. But this time you don’t get a say. This is my circus, and you’re my star monkey. So grab your shit.”

    I grabbed his computer bag and walked out. Liam was right behind me. “Where are we going?”

    I remained silent. I found the tram that took us to the hotel. I checked in. I told them I ran into a friend who didn’t have a place to stay. They gave him a key, but didn’t charge me extra. Liam had stopped asking me questions. I think he was a little drunk when I saw him in that bar. He had sobered up by the time we got to the room.

    I was hungry; I’d only had some crackers and a diet Coke on the plane. There was supposed to be lunch, but it was cancelled when the plane was diverted. “Do you still like Thai?”

    Liam looked up at me from his seat near the window. “Yeah, you know I love that stuff.”

    “Chicken, shrimp, or beef? Well, probably not beef or shrimp. You always ordered it with chicken.”

    “Chicken’s great.”

    I ordered room service, Chicken Pad Thai and Chicken Pad See Yu with two cups of Tom Kha soup. There was water and soda in the refrigerator, so I knew we were set.”

    I sat down facing Liam. He was staring out the window. He looked at me. “How can you remember that I love Chicken Pad Thai?”

    “Well, Liam, I met you about seven years ago,” I started.

    “That economics class our junior year.”

    “Yep. And I’ve been dishonest with you every day since then.” I kept looking at him. His gaze shifted from my right eye to my left eye. Then he looked down at his hands.

    “It’s confession time, isn’t it.”

    “Yes,” I told him, “it is.” How would I confess everything I had hidden from him? Should I hand him a written list?

    “I think you know about my sins of commission,” Liam began. I could see him chewing on his lower lip. “The crimes of omission are the ones I need to confess.”

    “I was talking about my sins of omission,” I told him.

    Liam looked back out the window. “Mine have to be worse.”

    “Well, if you want to go first, have at it.” My cowardice was winning.

    “Joshua, I want you to know that I am terrified to say the things I’m about to say. I’m worried that you’ll hate me and that I’ll destroy what little friendship we have left.”

    There was a knock at the door. Our food arrived much faster than I expected. I got up. “The truth can only make our friendship stronger. We’re no longer kids. We were kids when we met. We thought we were adults, but we weren’t. We’re about to prove that we’re grown up now.” I opened the door, and the cart rolled in. We put the food on the table, and I signed the receipt.

    I sat back down, the food in front of us. “I have two questions for you Liam. Do you still want to go first? And, do you want to share? Because that Pad Thai looks really good, and I’m willing to share some of mine.”

    Liam nodded. “That’s yes to both. We are still friends, aren’t we?” It was a statement rather than a question. He began.

    “First of all, I’d only fucked two girls before I met you. They were always hanging around, but I only did it to see what it was like. After I met you,” he paused. Tears filled his eyes. “After I met you, I started to fuck them all the time because I was afraid people would realize that I had fallen in love with you. I didn’t want them to call me queer because I had seen that happen in high school, and the guy killed himself. I was so afraid, but I wanted to be around you, so I did everything I could to get you to spend time with me. One of the arguments I had with my dad was over you. He thought there was more going on between us. I couldn’t push you away. I found out where you were going to law school, so I applied there, too. I hated law school, but I got three more years with you. And I hate being a lawyer, and the sad thing is, I’m really good at it.

    “Since law school ended, I’ve been miserable. You went away, and I hate myself for not telling you how I felt. I’ve prayed every night that you’d come back into my life.” He began to sob. “I see a therapist now because last year at Christmas, I felt so alone that I thought about killing myself.”

    I got up from my chair and went to him. I grabbed his hand and kissed it. “I knew I was in love with you when you told the professor you’d signed up for the economics class to learn how to make cookies and bake a turkey.”

    “What?”

    “I told you that I was lying to you all these years. I was afraid that if you knew I was in love with you, that you would not want me around. You fucked so many girls that I knew you had to be straight. I thought you were a slut, but I loved you anyway.”

    “So, if I would have told you, you would have told me, and we would have spent the last seven years together?”

    “No.”

    “Why no?”

    “Because we were kids. We’re men now. We’ve got more perspective on things.” I thought for a minute. “You know why God made us wait until this moment? I needed to realize that I needed to stop avoiding you to protect myself. You needed to go through the despair of loneliness and start therapy so you could handle what’s about to happen as we start living our lives together. That is what you want, right.”

    “Yes, it is. But I hadn’t thought about the ramifications.” Liam’s brows pulled together, I could sense the worry.

    “Liam, you don’t need to worry about the ramifications. You’re strong enough to handle them now. So am I. And together, we’ll be unstoppable.” I fed him a bit of Pad Thai. I took a bigger bite.

    “You’re right. It needed to be now for us to have a successful relationship.” I sensed a newfound joy in his demeanor.

    I knew that I was happier than I had been in years. I took a few more bites of food and realized I was no longer hungry.

    “Should we put the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow?”

    “Yes. And then I want to take a shower.”

    “I can put the stuff away.”

    “But, I’m going to need someone to scrub my back,” I put my hand on Liam’s cheek. There was more stubble there than I realized.

    “I can help with that. Oh. Yeah, I want to help with that.” He grinned.

    “I might need some help with my front as well.”

    “Of course. I’ll be available for that, and possibly more once I brush my teeth.”

    That made me laugh.

    After brushing our teeth, we stood naked in front of one another for the first time. Liam was a good four inches taller than I was. He had a gymnast body build, whereas I was more of a swimmer type. The strong five-o’clock shadow of his face was accompanied by a hairy chest and abs. His back was as smooth as my chest.

    We stepped into the shower, and he immediately kissed me. The lip and tongue action gave me an instant boner, but he acknowledged that he needed to shave to prevent my getting beard burn. I had never shaved in the shower, but Liam told me he always did. It was fun to watch, but I have to say that I distracted him several times by grabbing his dick or trying to finger his hole. He finished shaving, and the kissing improved by leaps and bounds. We finally rinsed off, stepped out of the shower, and helped each other dry off.

    I was excited and a little nervous about what would happen next. I looked over at Liam. He was as sexy in that moment as any time in the past seven years. “You know,” I said, “I’ve been in love for seven years. You’ve been in love for seven years. But we’ve only been in love for about an hour.”

    He looked at me. He drew his brows together as though confused and said, “You were always better at math.”

    “Before we go in the other room, let’s do some more math. You’ve had multiple partners. I’ve had well, one, if you count Mr. Hand.”

    “Wait, I’m ahead of you on this one. How many times has Mr. Hand fucked you in the ass?”

    I pretended to think about it. “Well, actually, he wanted to a few times, but he never went through with it.”

    “So the answer is none. Your ass is virgin territory. I on the other hand have never fucked a man.”

    I waited for the punchline.

    There wasn’t one. “Just before we graduated from college, one of the girls I was with was reported to have chlamydia. So, I got tested, and I was clean. I was told to get tested after 3 more months. I had another test 4 months later, and I was still clean. My only partner since then has been Monsieur Main and Monsieur Autre Main.”

    “So you’re ambidextrous when you jerk off?”

    “Actually, Mr. Right Hand likes to jerk, and Mr. Left Index Finger likes to play with my ass.”

    “OK,” I said. “This is one of your problems. You’re too verbose. The bottom line is that it’s safe for us to fuck without condoms, right?” He nodded. “Which is good since we don’t have any.”

    Liam lifted a finger to ask for permission to speak. I nodded. “We don’t have any lube either. And I understand that you need lube to butt fuck because rectums don’t make lube like vaginas do.”

    “I thought we could use spit, but we can just give each other handjobs.”

    “No, I’ve got spit; I’ve got lots of spit.”

    “Then take me in the other room and get my ass wet. I’ve been waiting too long to feel you inside me.”

    Liam reached around my back and held my chest from under my arm and with his other arm he picked me up behind my knees and carried me to the bed. He placed me near the center, and I spread my ass cheeks. He started licking my ass and spitting into my hole. I had no idea it would feel that good. I kept moaning and saying yes. At one point, he spit into his hand and rubbed it over his dick. He positioned himself. I felt the head of his dick pushing against my sphincter.

    I looked up at him. “I love you,” I whispered. He pushed his cock inside me. I gasped. There was a momentary feeling of discomfort, and then this pressure that felt awesome.

    He leaned forward and kissed me. “I love you.” And then he began humping me. As his dick pushed inside me, there was this incredible sensation that I cannot describe. As he pulled out, there seemed to be negative pressure that made me want him to push in again. He covered my mouth with his and began to pump faster. I could feel and hear his balls slap me. Suddenly, he groaned, and I felt an increase in pressure within me.

    He pressed his lips next to my ear and kissed it. “That was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had,” he whispered. “And I’ve just realized something. I’ve fucked a lot of times, but this was the first time I made love.”

    Tears filled my eyes as I kissed him and he kissed me. I had never been happier, and I couldn’t imagine being happier than I was in that moment.

    Then Liam rolled onto his back and said, “It’s your turn, my love.”

  • Outback

    I have been here a year. Alone. Captured. A prisoner for no reason. My life wasted for no reason. When I am impaled on my masters’ cock or drinking their piss, it’s hard to believe what I once was. I think of my girlfriend daily, try to remember I was once a straight man. But she lives on in the free world and I am an object of derision here. A fucked animal for my masters, with no prospect of normality ever again.

    Master Sam showed me a newspaper clipping yesterday that marked the anniversary. He read it, stressing the fact that I was presumed dead. That my family has searched and my football club had aided the search. But I had never been found. I blinked away a tear. I didn’t want him to see how much he had destroyed my life.

    “Nice to know no one’s planning to spoil your new lifestyle,” he smiled, rubbing his hand over my bald head. “I want you to be absolutely clear that you are going nowhere.”. He chuckled at his own joke, very well aware my days of potential escape are long gone. Every second of my life is controlled now. Every movement owned.

    Where once I had the strong body of a professional athlete, now my body is that of a slave now. Worked hard, fed little. They have researched the minimum amount on which a human can survive and that’s what I am fed daily. It keeps me ravenous for my next meal and therefore more obedient, more aware of my submission to my owners. My muscles are gone and my skin clings to my bones. My diet is very basic food, nothing of luxury or taste. And of course it is supplemented by their cum, their piss and phlegm.

    My long legs are the most muscular part of my body. Used to pull both of my owners in their covered carriage around their property. I run stark naked and barefoot in the scorching sun, the whip on my back urging me forward. A lonely beast toiling and grunting in total subjugation.

    I can only grunt. I haven’t uttered a word since the operation. The operation to remove my teeth and seal a steel O ring behind my lips. My mouth is permanently open, no teeth to graze their cocks. My tongue was also stretched and pierced to make any words impossible. My mouth is numb and useless. Just like my genitals.

    I no longer wear the chastity device. It is unnecessary. Master Cam ensured my cock and balls are only ever a means of pain and discomfort. My days of cumming are long gone. My balls hang low, down to my knees. The product of painful stretching in metal locked bands, kept in place to keep my balls aching at all times. They are numb and bang painfully against my legs as I run. My cock is incapable of erection. The heavy ring hanging from its slit means it is dragged down to the maximum. It has long since lost any sense of normality. It is now merely a means of attaching the heavy ring, which swings and clanks against the ball weights as I run. It has no other use. An obscene mockery of a male. I don’t consider myself human any more, let alone male. My genitals are stretched and useless. Masters have threatened to remove my balls on many an occasion when they have stood on them as I toil. I don’t know why they hate me so much. I never did anything to deserve this treatment. They have taken everything from me.

    I only have three purposes in life. All of them are demeaning to the extreme. All of them are mind numbing and cruel and unfair to inflict on any human being. And that’s why they do it, because I have come to realise sadism turns them on so much.

    The first purpose is as their horse, carrying them around in comfort under the whip. My legs toiling to run faster and longer until my lungs feel like bursting and my mouth is parched in exhaustion, wide open and tongue lolling in my mouth. I heave dry lungfuls of hot air and collapse afterwards as much as they will allow. Of course, running is much more difficult when you pull a heavy carriage and when you don’t have any arms to help you pull. My pulling comes through my chest and upper body strength. It’s why my body retains a muscular physique despite my starvation. They steer and pull me via the large metal eyelet rings screwed into my shoulders. Where once my arms would have been. Master Cam removed my arms and replaced them with the metal rings which are surgically implanted into my body. When I am running as their horse, the rope they hold to direct me runs through the rings in my shoulders to steer me. A second rope is attached to my cock ring. This is pulled sharply to stop me. I am truly an inferior subhuman beast of burden.

    The farm is served by a generator for electricity. The generator is powered by a large windmill. However for 12 hours a day it is operated by slave power. I work alone chained to a heavy wooden beam, which I push around a circular circuit. Naked and barefoot of course I push the beam to generate free electricity for my masters. I have no break, no respite. I am attached by my rings – arms and cock – to an electric device and if I stop or reduce pace the device buzzes to warn me. I don’t test it – the shock it delivers to my cock is agonising.

    So I toil alone. Ignored as I spend half of every day of my existence sweating and working to improve their lives. Take a moment to consider the humiliation and submission I feel at spending half of every day like this. Walking round and round pushing a heavy beam. An animal. I have no stimulation at all. No music or books or TV or time to relax. My life is abject misery and hard labour and pointless suffering.

    When my shift is over they will direct me to the pit. A hole in the ground inside the barn. It’s kept cool and – after removing my horse tail butt plug and shitting on the ground – I plunge my hot, sweaty body into the tepid water to clean away the sweat. It is the only wash I ever receive.

    The routine of my life never changes. If they want to fuck me or abuse me, this will be the time. I am strung up or chained down to submit to their needs. If not then I attach the feathered tail plume up my arse and crawl into the house.

    My time of”rest” is now spent as a display parrot in their bedroom. They have explained with glee that they do this purely to torture me with the maximum control and humiliation. I no longer live in the living room as I was gaining some pleasure from watching TV. They want me to have no stimulation at all.

    So I live on display in their bedroom when not being used. An obscene work of art. Always naked of course other than the tail plume of feathers attached to my butt plug.

    I no longer need a cage. I perch on a wooden pole that is attached by chains to the beams of the ceiling. Once my toes curl around the beam, master will attach my cock ring to a ring on the floor so that my cock is pulled down harshly and tethers me. My arm rings are then attached to chains which have been fitted down from the ceiling. The result is that I am tethered in position, my body fully stretched on display as a ridiculous object.   Squatting legs spread like a bitch.  A mute parrot with no capacity to move.

    I spend hours of my life every day like this alone. Such a waste of my life it makes me cry with frustration at what I could have been.

    When masters are present they go about their business as if I am an ornament. Dressing and sleeping and fucking in their comfy bed as I stretch alone. This is my only opportunity to sleep, stretched out on display.

    This is my future. My present existence and my future. I didn’t deserve this but I am powerless now to change anything. I try to be a good slave to gain any faint praise or recognition. It very rarely comes. I know I will serve them like this for the rest of my life. They have told me that when my body can no longer take the animal role as horse and generator, master Cam will remove my legs. They will attach rings to my leg stumps and I will hang permanently on display, locked in a tight frame. A matter of fact statement of how they will further mutilate me.

    It’s bed time. On display, I watch the masters undress. Their intact free bodies are manly and hairy. Master Sam pisses into his bottle and approaches me. I drink it silently, my eyes locking with his as I drink down his piss thankfully. I must now look into their eyes as they use me as they learnt that humiliates me more.

    Master Cam approaches me toothbrush in mouth. He spits the swill from his mouth into mine and slaps my cheek with a smile as I swallow. He blows his nose into a tissue: I hold it on my tongue until he nods. I swallow it down.

    Reaching down he grabs the metal ball stretchers in his hand and pulls them down causing me to wince in pain, before pulling my balls outwards from my body to inspect them. He holds my taut blue balls in his palm and taps them firmly to elicit a squirm of discomfort from me. Hanging helplessly before him. He smiles and slaps them hard.

    They stand naked in front of me and kiss passionately. Without any acknowledgement of my plight they get into bed and turn off the light.

    I hang in the darkness and listen to their comfort and companionship. I am to them only an object. When they wake from their restful sleep, I will not have moved. I will be on humiliating display. For the rest of my life.

    End of story.

  • Rising Again

    Party for 1

    I received a couple of responses to the ad I posted on the site. I was expecting a lot of hot sexy guys to find me in my room with my ass up all lubed and ready to go; of course though who knew if anyone was coming… my fantasy world in my head thought someone was bound to turn up. I got up from the bed and left the door open a little bit. I went back to the bed and waited patiently. I also turned on some porn. I was running out of lube so I was using the hotel lotion that was supplied. I was jerking my hard cock and and fingering my nice asshole. I grabbed the lotion and poured a lot on my ass inside and out. I got the remote from the tv and put lotion all over it as well. I was teasing my sensitive asshole with the end of the remote until it gently and smoothly slid in my hot pulsating hungry hole. I was now pumping the remote in and out of my ass. The feeling was amazing that I felt like I was about to cum right then. I moaned so loudly I wanted anyone to hear me so they can come into my room and fuck me. I then faced my ass toward the door so if anyone were to walk by they would see a shadow of my bare thick ass in front of my phone screen (the room was dark because lights were off).

    Some time went by and there was a knock on the door followed by a slip under the door. I stopped what I was doing to check it out. I walked to the door naked and got the slip. I went into the bathroom and turned on the light. It was just my receipt check out slip for the morning so I don’t have to go to the front desk to check out because it’s already been paid. I set it aside and was immediately turned on by what I was seeing in the mirror. I grabbed my phone by the tv screen and went back to the bathroom. I perched my phone on the mirror then got up on the counters and spread with legs to the mirror. I got a nice view of my hungry hole and my dick. I grabbed the lotion and lubed up my dick and hole and grabbed the remote again. I rocked back and forth on the remote pretending that it’s a hot stiff cock going in and out of my ass as I was watching some guy that looked like me getting the same treatment, except his is real. Three of four hours went by going back to bathroom to fuck myself in front of the mirror and laying on the bed watching porn. Also, having the door slightly open with my ass up in the air and moaning for someone to come fuck me was the hottest thing ever. Hours went by and no one didn’t seem to show up from the ad. What came next was unexpected.

    I don’t know what exactly happened but the fire alarm went off while I was laying on the bed playing with myself. The hotel might of been doing some sort of testing or something. People got out of their rooms but I stayed inside all the while my loud gay porn was playing and I was hoping someone would come find me and join in. Eventually the alarmed had stopped. My paranoia at some point was kicking in.

     If i had too much meth as with anyone else I started hearing and seeing things. At one point in the night I heard a sound on the tv-a pop- and a red light came on. I thought to myself hotel security is maybe checking on my room. But I didn’t care. I was giving them a show. I knew at the time it was probably in my head. The only thing I was thinking about was how far was I willing to go to prove my point as well as just enjoying myself for once in my life.

    As the sunrise was coming up I opened the blinds. Afterwards I lay back in bed and continued playing with myself trying to catch someone’s attention from the apartments across the way. The feeling was hot and steamy. I still hadn’t cum yet and I wanted to before I checked out. I was disturbed by my hallucinations and such but shrugged it off as I kept telling myself it’s just in my head. I went into the shower to rinse myself off. It was nice feeling the hot water run through my cold body. It definitely freshened me up. After the shower I lay in bed with blankets covering me thinking I was going to close my eyes for a bit. As I did I got hard again and starting rubbing my cock. I pulled the blankets off and grabbed the lube and starting going at it again. I wanted to cum while the windows were open and now the sun was shining through my window. I felt the warm morning sun against my dick and stomach. I grabbed the lube and  put some in my hole. I grabbed the remote and smoothly slid it in my hungry hole. My ass was bouncing up and down on the remote while i was jerking my dick. I don’t know if I was hallucinating or not but I saw a man from across the way in the apartments watching me and touching his crotch. That made me all the more turned on and I started bouncing up faster and harder on the remote and jerking my cock very fast now. I was breathing heavily. The man pulled down his pants to reveal a hot long sausage. He was also jerking his meat. I was moaning so loudly I wanted the whole hotel to hear me. “Ffuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkk meeeeee” as my dick exploded continually for almost 15 seconds. 15 seconds of hot cum being teased all night and onto the white sheets. After I came I was still bouncing up and down heavily on the remote and was still hard. The man that was watching me was also beating his dick fast now too. I was going up and down on the remote as if it’s his long hard sausage. He was beating his dick and he exploded all over the balcony where he was watching me. I, too, came for a second time exploding all over the sheets  and moaned so loudly. I lay in bed like a satisfied prostitute. I got up as he stared at my naked body. I went to the windows and waved to him as he smiled. I drew back the blinds and went to take another shower finally feeling a little bit back to normal.

    I had about two hours to check out and so I gathered my belongings. I cleaned up the room a bit; threw out two full cups of orange juice and vodka, straightened up the furniture like pillows because they were everywhere. I got dressed then hydrated as best I could. I left the room and went downstairs to check out. I waited almost 5 minutes for someone at the front desk only to remember that I could just drop off the key and leave because of the slip that I received. I walked to the parking garage and into my car. At least the worst part was over…. Or was it?..

  • Mr C’s Clients: Mr. Zimmermann and Company

    [31 May  1972]  I woke at 6:00 with my usual rail-splitter hard on and anticipation for tonight’s meeting.  Other than that, there wasn’t anything on the schedule , though that was always subject change.

    I did need to speak with Mr C about Mr Preacher [“Mars”] proposition last night. [Mr Drake Stays the Week & Mr Cs Friends Roger & Mars]. The suggestion he made that l leave with him and lie to Mr. C was something I wasn’t going to do.  But the suggestion that I spend 24 hours with him, getting fucked by him and his friends just felt disturbing, particularly when joined with the admonition that I tell no one where I was going. [Mr Drake Stays the Week & Mr Cs Friends Roger & Mars]

    I took a shower, threw on a short bathrobe, and went down to make coffee.

    And once again I didn’t need to.  Mr. Drake was at  the kitchen table, dressed for work, eating cold cereal.  We said good morning and he sipped coffee and asked if I wanted eggs and bacon.  “I have to leave at 7:30.  You hungry?”

    We ate breakfast and talked about yesterday [I left out my concerns with Mars].  Before he left, he told me he might be in late tonight.

    I got to school a few minutes early and my homeroom teacher, who shared a hate-hate relationship with me, waited until after he’d called roll to announce, loudly, “Taylor, Mr Gull’s office , now!”

    MR. GULL: PROPOSITION

    Mr. Gull had Daniel Lee [wearing only his jockstrap] in his office.  He told me he had said noon and dismissed me.

    I returned at 12:05 and he told me to lock the  door.  “l have a problem tomorrow.  I’ve got 14 guys coming and both the boy I had scheduled, and his backup can’t do it.”

    I smiled, “So you want me to serve and entertain 14 men plus you and Mr. Haney alone. “.  I was smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

    “That’s right.  I’ll give you 75 an hour, one drink an hour and I’ll suggest everyone get their own drinks.”

    I thought about it and agreed to do it.

    He squeezed my shoulder and thanked me.  He’d pick me up at 6:00 pm tomorrow. It would be at his  home.

    At 2:45 I was summoned to the principal’s office and I worried all the way down there.  Had some of my photos got out?  Had Mr. Haney been caught on the premises when he was on suspension?  Or had my homeroom teacher, Mr Truarch, written me up?

    It turned out to be nothing.  Mr. Collier had called and asked the principal to tell me he’d pick me up at the school at 3:30.  I sighed with relief and whispered “Truarch.”

    The principal, as I’d hoped, asked what about Truarch and I told him about this morning and that he’d done it in the past.  He assured me that they would have  a talk.

    I also noticed the vice principal, Mr. Graham, looking at me, puzzled.

    I had seen him somewhere not on school property, I was certain.  And I was also sure it was in a gay bar. 

    SHOPPING WITH MR. C

    Mr. Collier picked me up at 3:30 and we went to the fashion district.  We started at his favorite tailor, Beri Raye, a tall [6’2″] , slim Englishmen with close cut platinum hair . 

    I got introduced, then Beri and Mr C stepped aside to talk for some 20 minutes.  They returned and Beri, smiling, said “Strip…please.”  I. Took off everything but my briefs.  Beri ran his pointing finger from my belly button  down to my briefs and snapped the band.   “Jeff has told me you’re anything but shy.  Now, off with it.”

    I slipped my briefs off and Beri , with an assistant, measured me in every way they could, including my head and each finger.

    Beri gave Mr. C  a three-week finish and promised a call if he finished early.

    [On the way to the next shop Mr. C told me Beri was providing 3 suits for special occasions: one powder blue, one dark blue and one rose [all with vests].  With the suits there would be three satin shirts, six off the rack stockings and two pairs of dress shoes: one black and one white.  And finally, six leather and nylon jockstraps, six satin briefs and eight satin thongs in six colors [two red, pink, turquoise, emerald, blue, and two black .]

    The next and last shop sold dance, theatre and mod street ware.  We got two casual suits  with hip huggers and safari jackets, in royal blue and jade, with vests.  Also, six Victorian shirts, six poet shirts and eight sleeveless undershirts, all in varying colors and patterns.

    It was just past 5:00 when we finished shopping and 5:30 when we got home.

    While  I shaved, showered , etc., Mr. C laid out red briefs, black deck shoes and socks, a black poet shirt and the jade casual suit without the vest.

    PRELIM: DINNER and the 9-BALLS BAR

    We had dinner at an expensive steak house, courtesy of Mr. Zimmermann and we met two of the producers / writers  [Misters Gregory and Miller] and two of the directors [Misters  Santiago and Bryce].  All of them were dressed casually in sport jackets and slacks and no ties.

    We talked about preferences [male], limits [no water sports, S&M or fists] and body hair.  This last because Mr C had told Mr Zimmermann about my job with Noguchi-san at his club.  I told him Noguchi-san wanted a specific look for me.  And Mr Miller cut in, “I’ve seen some of his boys and the body shave is pretty fucking sexy”.

    We [mostly the men with an occasional contribution by me] continued to talk until 9:00, then went to the 9 Balls for a couple drinks.

    Mr. C and I found a booth and waved to Robbie, the bartender.  The men maneuvered me to sit between Mr Zimmermann and Mr. Collier.

    Robbie brought me a black Russian and took the other orders.  We talked about movies and Mr Zimmermann passed along a few funny stories and a couple erotic ones.

    Robbie came back with the drinks with an extra one for me.  He pointed to a tall grey-haired man with a moustache and goatee.  I  looked at Mr Collier.  He said to just send a “no but maybe Sunday night”. 

    Robbie said he’d take care of it and left.

    A few minutes later Ted Anderson joined us.  Mr. C introduced him all around and told Mr. Zimmermann that he was the man they had discussed.

    Mr. Anderson asked if anyone was up for doubles pool.  Mr. Zimmermann said yes, then I did, and Mr. Santiago made four.

    Mr. Zimmermann and I talked between turns.  It was innocuous, talking movies, music and TV [which was one of his ways of getting into my head].

    At around quarter past ten Mr. Anderson suggested we “reconvene at [his] place.”. We all agreed.  Mr. Zimmermann whispered to Mr. Anderson, who nodded in return and we left.  I went with Mr Collier, Mr. Anderson drove solo and Mr Zimmermann’s group followed.

    Mr. C had me remove my jacket in the 9 Balls parking lot, then strip to my briefs and deck shoes on the drive over   I told  him about Mars, and he said he’d take care of it.

    As always, Mr. C [or whichever car I was in] parked in the garage, to make sure the neighbors didn’t get a show.

    Once the men had gone in, I entered and went straight into the kitchen to make drinks.  Mr. C, still dressed, came in with a list and helped me prepare them, then went into the living room.

    I served them in the order in which they were seated:  Mr. Zimmermann on the recliner, wearing briefs; Mr Anderson on the couch, naked, a Zippo and a cigarette case on the end table beside him; Mr. Bryce, in his briefs; Mr. Gregory, in his jockstrap; Mr. Santiago, in his briefs; Mr. Harvey Miller, in his briefs; Mr. Collier on the armchair, fully dressed.

    MR. ZIMMERMANN

    I took my drink and headed back toward Mr. Zimmermann just as he  called me over to join him.  He smirked and sipped his drink and handed it to me.  I took a swallow of my own and set both on the coffee table.

    “Suck it.” Mr Zimmermann leaned forward and yanked my wrists.  “Show the Captain what you can do.”

    I left my briefs on, the satin feeling fantastic against my stiffening dick, and knelt between his legs.

    I licked his bellybutton and traced the line of hair down to his briefs.  I slid my hand into his briefs and slipped it behind his cock, then licked and sucked his cock and balls through his briefs.

    Mr. Zimmermann put a hand on my shoulder, gripping it gently.  [He was good looking [he reminded me a little of George Maharis], 37, 6’4″, had a fit, lightly muscular build, and brown business-cut hair.  He had light body hair, no chest hair, trimmed pubic hair , a 9″ cock and big balls that I could have happily serviced by  themselves for a good fifteen or twenty minutes.]

    I eased his nearly erect  cock out of his briefs, licking and sucking it as I managed to take almost half of it into my mouth.  He pulled his briefs down and turned to Mr. Anderson , “How about starting one around,” he brushed my hair “with our pretty little cockslut first?”

    Mr. Anderson took a fat, long joint out of the cigarette case , closed the case, and brought the joint and lighter over. 

    I eased Mr. Zimmermann’s cock out of my mouth and massaged it slowly, fondling his balls too, while I waited for Mr. Anderson.

    Mr. Anderson tugged my ear.  “I’ll go first and pass it to Val.  I’m not as pretty as him, but I’m more experienced.  Inhale it as I breath it into you.  When you’re ready to pass it to Mr. Zimmermann tap his leg. “

     Mr. Anderson took a long hit, held it for a minute , then locked his mouth over mine and breathed it into me.

    I felt a blast of sensuality, held the smoke in, then pressed my open mouth over Mr. Zimmermann’s and blew it carefully into him.

    I bent over and started sucking his cock loudly and sloppily.

    Mr’ Zimmermann passed the smoke to Mr’ Anderson, then held my head stiff and fucked my mouth a few times.  He withdrew and told me to  go wait  in front of the coffee table.

    He moved forward on the recliner and had a quick, whispered, conversation with Mr. Anderson.

    I took a long swallow of my Black Russian and put it back on the coffee table.

    Mr. Zimmermann came up behind me and fondled my ass, then yanked my briefs down.  He took the lube off the fable and seconds later two of his long, lubed fingers were exploring and stretching my hole. 

    He held the lube forward and asked me to hang on to it.  I took it  and my dick throbbed when I heard him lubing his cock.

    I put the lube on the coffee table.

    Mr. Zimmermann grasped my right shoulder and shoved his cock into my fuckhole.  I moaned.  He pushed forward and I cried out softly .

    He licked the back of my ear.  “That feels so good.” He pushed again , “Yeah…fuck yeah.

    I squirmed.  Heard myself whisper “uh huh” and “fuck me”

    He shoved the rest of his cock into me and started fucking me, a few slow strokes, then at a steady pace, his arms around me, holding my forearms.

    Mr. Zimmermann withdrew and led me to the wall between the living room and the kitchen, with its serving counter.  He turned me to face, and hold onto, the counter and slid his cock into my hole.  He turned my head and licked my right ear, then he started fucking me hard.

    Mr. Anderson went into the kitchen and made me a fresh drink, put a straw into it and set it near me.  I took a long sip of it and pushed back into Mr. Zimmermann.

    He fucked me for nearly ten minutes, withdrew and told me to get on hands and knees.  He stroked his cock while I got into position, then called Mr. Anderson over.

    Mr. Zimmermann stroked his cock faster, slowed and entered me and fucked me in short, quick strokes, softly growling obscenities.  “Yeah!  You hot little slut cum crazy fucktoy… “

    He withdrew suddenly and pumped three or four thick streams and half a dozen small ones all over my ass.  He squeezed my shoulder, “Damn nice, baby”. Then he stood and went to clean up.

    MR. ANDERSON

    And Mr. Anderson brought me my drink.   I swallowed half of it and put it on the coffee table. He lubed his cock and pushed me back down, “Lay flat, Val, babe.”

    [Mr. Anderson was early 40s, 5’10” with a slim, fit  build and short black hair.  He was a handsome man who reminded me of Guy Williams, television’s Zorro and the dad in Lost in Space]. He had light body hair, a 7.5″ cock and large balls].

    He laid on top of me, thrust his cock into my hole and started fucking me.

    Mr. Zimmermann went to Mr. C and whispered to him , and they went into the kitchen.

    Mr. Anderson withdrew, pushed my legs up under me, and thrust his cock into my fuckhole.  He grasped my shoulders and fucked me fast and hard.

    He kept power-fucking me for five minutes give or take, then shot a good load into me and withdrew and jerked out three or four small shots across my ass.

    He patted my hip, got up and went to clean up.

    MISTERS BRYCE and GREGORY

    I sat up and finished my drink and asked if anyone else needed a refill.  Mr. Santiago and Mr. Anderson called for one and Mr. Santiago said he’d get them.

    I finished my black Russian and got up and gave him the empty glass as he came by.  I bent double and pulled my briefs up, then turned and [completely by  accident] found myself in Mr. Bryce’s arms.  [Mr. Bryce was 28 , 5’8″  , 190, a little overweight, receding curly brown hair with avg body hair, no chest hair, and 8″ of cock.]         

    And right behind him was Mr. Gregory [29, 5’7″, 166 fit, with long blonde hair a Fu Manchu moustache, average body hair, trimmed pubic hair, an 8″-plus cock and big balls].

    Mr. Bryce pulled me closer, tightening his grip.   He kissed me.  I opened my mouth a little, letting him push his tongue in deep.  I sucked it for a couple minutes, my dick throbbing, getting hornier with every second his thick, wet tongue explored my mouth.

    Mr. Gregory pulled my briefs down under my ass and held my forearms against my hips.  He called Mr. Anderson over.

    Mr. Santiago returned with the drinks and Mr. Anderson took ours and joined us.  He spoke quietly with Mr. Bryce, nodded and turned to me.

    He pressed my drink to  my lips and spoke into my ear, “Drink… Half of it.  Can you?”  I said Yes, softly, and began swallowing as he began pouring.

    When I’d swallowed half the Black Russian, Mr. Anderson put my glass on the coffee table, fondled my ass, and returned to the sofa.

    I was drunk.  Not falling down or blackout drunk but just warming up drunk: that moment when you realize you’re drunk and decide to leave or embrace and enjoy it.

    I don’t really need to tell you which I chose, do I now?

    Mr. Bryce kissed me, right arm around my shoulders and left hand pushing down his briefs.  When he got them down, he guided my hand to his big balls and let go.

    I felt them, then moved on up to what I really wanted. 

    Mr. Bryce broke the kiss again and licked my ear, “You want that. “

    It was a statement, not a question.  And an accurate one.

    I moved my hand slowly up his hard, 8″, cock and started to agree when Mr. Gregory grasped my shoulders from behind and pushed his knees into mine, forcing me to  kneel.  He squeezed my shoulders, “Better view from down there. “

    I looked up and agreed, then licked and sucked Mr. Bryce’s balls for a couple minutes.

    Mr. Anderson came over and handed Mr. Gregory a joint.

    I switched my attention to Mr. Bryce’s cock.

    The joint was passed around [Gregory to Bryce to Anderson] twice, then Mr. Anderson asked me if I wanted a hit.

    I said no [| liked the grass by itself, but not with the Blank Russians].  Then I looked up at Mr. Bryce and took half his cock into my mouth and started sucking it.

    Mr. Gregory fondled my ass, reached around and caressed my cock through my briefs.  He said he’d be back, got up and went to talk to Mr. Anderson.

    Mr. Bryce held my head and mouth-fucked me for a couple minutes.

    Mr. Gregory and Mr. Anderson pulled an 8-sided table out of a corner of the gaming area and placed it under the ceiling fan.  Someone asked if we were playing poker.  Mr. Anderson said not tonight, and Mr. Gregory came over to join Mr. Bryce and me.

    Mr. Bryce withdrew and told me to turn around.  He lubed his cock and my ass as Mr. Gregory guided me into a hands-and-knees position.

    Mr. C and Mr. Zimmermann came out of the kitchen and sat on the sofa and continued to speak softly.

    Mr. Bryce shoved his cock into my fuckhole, waited a  few seconds, then started fucking me at a good, steady pace.

    Mr. Gregory removed his jockstrap and massaged his semi-hard cock.

    Mr. Bryce slowed, withdrawing his cock halfway then thrusting it in, withdrawing halfway and thrusting it in maybe a half a dozen times, then returned to steady, mid-paced fucking.

    Mr. Gregory patted my cheeks with his 8″-plus cock, very lightly, once,  twice…three times; then touched it against my lips.  I opened my mouth, and he pulled his cock away.

    Mr. Bryce spread my ass cheeks and fucked me faster.  He whispered “Yeah baby…so hot so fucking hot… “

    Mr. Gregory ran his cock around my cheeks and barely touched it to my lips.  I stuck out my tongue and he pulled his cock away again.

    Mr’ Bryce stopped, reached around and briefly felt my cock and balls.  He grabbed my hips and fucked me faster.

    Mr. Gregory pressed his cock against my lips, “Show us your tongue, baby doll.”

    Mr. Bryce squeezed my ass cheeks, fucking me fast, “…hot little slutboy…”  thrusting hard “…yeah come on gonna fill your sweet ass with cum…”

    I opened my mouth and let a satisfied moan float out and stuck out my tongue.  Mr. Gregory pressed his cock against my tongue.  “Don’t move it. “. He fucked my mouth, his cock riding my tongue.

    Mr. Bryce stopped, trying to hold back, then groaned  “…FUCKING wh– hottie!! ” and fucked me in short, hard strokes, pumping cum.

    And after a minute give-or-take he withdrew, breathing hard, caressed my ass and lit a cigarette.  “We’ll do this again babe. “

    Mr. Gregory withdrew and handed me my drink.  I finished it and asked if he needed a refill.  He ruffled, then gripped my hair and growled softly, “You keep sucking my dick til I tell you to stop.”

    I took his cock back into my mouth and started sucking it, bobbing to and fro slowly.

    And he gripped my head tight, “Suck it like you haven’t been dicked, top or bottom, in a month, baby doll.”

    Now that would be rough.

    I licked and sucked his cock hungrily, noisily and sloppily, my saliva running down my chin.  He stopped me after about 5 minutes and fucked my mouth, holding my head tight .  A few minutes of that and I could tell he was close to cumming. 

    He asked who needed refills.  Everyone raised their glasses and both Mr. Zimmermann and Mr. C asked for tonic lime.  He withdrew his cock from my mouth and helped me up.  “drink refills, baby.”

    I followed him into the kitchen, and he swung me around to face the serving counter and pushed my feet wide apart.  

    Mr. Anderson smiled at me and drank.

    Mr’ Gregory put my arms on the counter, shoved his cock into my hole and fucked me fast and hard.

    I opened my mouth and let the sounds–the moans and the sharp little  “oohs” and “ahs” and words of encouragement–let them roll out of their own volition.

    Mr. Gregory had been close to orgasm when I’d been blowing him , so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the counter-fuck lasted a little over five minutes.  He blew his full load in three shots.

    He licked my spine from neck to shoulder blades, withdrew and patted my ass lightly. Then he went to clean up.

    I cleaned up a  bit, pulled my briefs up, prepped the drinks and served them. 

    Mr. Zimmermann, naked, waved me over and took me into the kitchen.  He put an arm around my shoulders and told me “I already told Mr. Collier, but not the others, that I like what I’ve seen.  I still have to clear it with my boss, but. I’m going to send you half a dozen loop scripts.  We’ll work on the shoot dates.  All this stays among you, Mr. Collier and me.  Now you’re needed at the poker table. “. He slid his hand down to my ass and walked me out to the living room.

    Mr. Zimmermann took his drink and handed me mine and whispered into my ear, “A toast, Val: to promising friendships and lucrative business dealings.”  We both took long swallows, then he walked me, hand on my ass, to the poker table, where Mr. Anderson was waiting.  Mr. Zimmermann handed me his drink, “put these on the shelf, never on the poker table.” He turned toward the sofa, “gentleman?”

    MISTERS SANTIAGO and MILLER

    Mr. Santiago and Mr. Miller came over to join us.  Mr. Santiago turned me to face him and kissed me, filling my mouth with his tongue.  He withdrew, sucked my earlobe and licked my ear.

    Mr. Miller knelt behind me and fondled my ass.

    Mr. Santiago stepped back and took  his briefs off.  [Mr. Guillermo Santiago was 55, 6′, 220, with a pot belly, full black hair, light body hair and a thick 10″ cock.]

    Mr. Miller yanked my briefs down and took them off one of my legs.  He turned me to face him, moved us a couple feet from the poker table and removed his jockstrap.  [Harvey Miller was 32, black, 5’10”, 225 fit, bald, light body hair, trimmed pubic hair, and an 11″  cock.]

    It was the biggest I’d seen “live” [as opposed to in loops and film; the largest there, of course, being John Holmes’s].

    I looked up at him and he pushed down on my shoulders .  He didn’t smile when he said “Get on your knees, princess.  You can figure it out from there, huh?”

    I  could, particularly after he and Mr. Santiago flanked me.  Mr. Miller’s was the more intimidating, even not completely erect, so I took it, slowly, into my mouth, a couple inches past the head.  I paused for a few seconds, then began moving my head to and fro. 

    Mr. Miller patted my head,[jared iro1] “That’s good, babes, real good.  Work on Mr. Santiago.”  All the guys applauded. 

    I turned my attention to Mr. Santiago, whose 10-incher was a little smaller but was not a walk in the park either.

    Mr. Collier came over and went into the kitchen with Mr. Zimmermann.

    I sucked, kissed and licked Mr. Miller’s and Mr. Santiago’s cocks for some ten minutes.

    Mr. Miller told me “Stand up, princess.”

    They took me to the poker table and gave me my Black Russian.  I took a long swallow and gave it back, smiling.   I was drunk and ready for more.

    Mr. Anderson came around and lubricated my fuckhole, then held the jar while Mr. Miller and Mr. Santiago lightly lubed their cocks.

    Mr. Santiago moved me over to face the table and told me to hold the edge.  I’d barely got into position when he pushed his cock into me,

    He slowly filled me, then patted my ass and proceeded to fuck me at a steady pace.  He reached around and fondled my cock, ran his hands up to my chest and pinched and twisted my nipples.

    Twenty strokes, then he withdrew and let Mr. Miller take over.

    Mr. Miller pushed his 11-inch cock around halfway into me, then grasped my hips, shoved the rest into me and started fucking me.  And he passed me back to Mr. Santiago after 20-some strokes.

    They continued passing me back and forth, each of them fucking me faster and for a longer time.  Santiago also licking my ears and playing with my nipples; Miller whispering obscene promises and threats.

    Mr. Santiago’s turn came up and Mr. Anderson gave me a popper hit just as Mr. Santiago entered me.  I moaned and pushed back as he filled me with cock. Mr. Miller said “Turn him around here, Billy.  Let me explore while you fill that pretty white ass with cock juice. “

    Mr. Santiago withdrew and turned us to face Mr. Miller, then entered me, wrapped his arms around my hips and fucked me, steady, for a couple minutes, then faster with shorter thrusts.

    Mr. Miller kissed me, forcing his thick tongue into my mouth.  He licked my ears and sucked my earlobes.

    Mr. Santiago fucked me hard and fast, moving his hands to my waist and back to my hips and finally thrust his cock deep and released a huge load of cum into me.  He withdrew, still cumming, shooting three thick loads and maybe a dozen more small shots across my ass.  He turned me around and kissed me, shoving his tongue into me.

    Mr. Miller lubed my fuckhole with a mix of lube and Mr. Santiago’s cum.  Then he lubed his cock lightly teasing.

    Mr. Santiago broke the kiss, patted my cheek and went to clean up.  “all yours, H.M.  I’ll ride you again , chica.”

    Mr. Miller told me to get to my hands and knees.  I did, and he pushed my shoulders down to the floor.  He pushed his cock into my fuckhole and said, so the rest of the men could hear “Now, I am going to ride you like a cheap whore, white boy.”

    He pushed his cock into me slowly, let it just fill me for a few seconds, then started fucking me at a steady pace.

    The rest of the men made their way over to the game area, talking softly and watching Mr. Miller power fuck me.

    Mr. Anderson went over to Mr. Collier and whispered to him.  Mr. Collier told him “I’m pretty sure he’s free the 6th to the 16th but ask him Tuesday.  And don’t  tell anyone I gave you an okay to do that.”

    Mr. Miller withdrew, helped me turn over and pushed my spread legs up.  He spat on his cock and slid it into my hole.  He tried  a few slow strokes then fucked me in fast, short strokes.

    Mr. Anderson got Mr. Bryce to help him put the poker table away.

    Mr. Miller fucked me for another five minutes, then withdrew and straddled my chest, pinning my arms to my sides and my legs to my chest.  He jerked off.  I opened my mouth and he muttered “Shut it, princess.”

    I managed to close it just as he blew another huge load with 8 to 10 increasingly smaller shots across my face. 

    Finally, he patted my cheek and said, “See you soon, princess “.  Then he stood up and went to clean up.

    Mr. C came over, got my drink and asked how I was doing. I took my drink and finished  it and smiled and said I was feeling hot and well-used.  He told me about his conversation with Mr. Anderson and asked if I heard it.  I had, and he said “Good deal.  Just beep me informed so I don’t double book you. “

    I understood and agreed I would.

    Mr. Miller finished in the bathroom and I got up, with Mr. Collier’s help, and showered.

    Afterward, Mr. C and I said our goodbyes.  Mister Zimmermann said he’d be in touch sooner than later and we left a little before 1:00 am.

    We talked about Mr. Zimmermann [he had several movie production companies.  The one I’d be working for was Wild 7 Boys, a subsidiary of Zimm Hot Gay Boys and Men.  The other item we discussed was new outfits for the studio [deck shoes, jock or briefs and kimono. I said it sounded hot.]

    We pulled into his driveway and he pushed the bench seat back a little, opened his slacks up and exposed his hard 6.5″ cock.  He leaned back and patted my thigh , “Suck me off”.

    I leaned over and took his cock into my mouth, licked and sucked it for less than a minute, then bobbed up and down.  I knew by then that he preferred a no-frills blowjob.  He rested his hand on my head for maybe five minutes, then held my head and fucked my mouth.

    Around five minutes later he shot a good-sized load into my mouth and throat.

    He straightened the seat back and pulled the seat forward.  “When you come in Tuesday be sure you bring your calendar.  Make sure we’re caught up. “

    I told him I would and told him about my concerns with Mars. He said he’d investigate it, then drove me home.

    MR’ DRAKE

    I locked up and checked the living room.  Mr. Drake was wearing black pajama pants and slippers, watching a gay hardcore western.  He asked if I could handle a nightcap and I said sure.  Before I could offer to get drinks, he said he’d get it while I  changed.

    I hung the jacket, after clearing the pockets, in the closet and set the rest aside for dry cleaning.  Then I threw on a short robe and went downstairs.

    Mr. Drake was sitting on the sofa, his coffee cup and my Black Russian on the end table.

    [Mr. Drake was a 5-foot-6, stocky man of 43 with a trimmed moustache and short slicked back black hair.  He had 9″ of cock, small balls, and average body and pubic hair.]

    He spread his legs and patted the sofa, “Go ahead and drop that robe right there and come stand between my legs.  Right now. ”  I dropped my robe and walked over and stood between his legs, facing him.

    He leaned forward and gave my cock  a couple strokes then reached around and fondled my ass.  He patted it, leaned back and said, “Now get on your knees” he pushed his pajama pants down to his ankles, “and suck mister Drake’s cock “.

    Mr. Drake was another who didn’t like foreplay or tease.  So,  I did lick and suck his balls a little, licked his cock shaft briefly, then took half his cock into my mouth and began bobbing up and down, sucking it and occasionally looking up into his eyes.

    After around five-plus minutes I felt his cock throb and Mr. Drake pushed me up and withdrew.  He touched my shoulder, “Have a drink, then get on your hands and knees , face the screen. ”  He passed me my drink and I took a  long swallow.

    Mr. Drake took my cock and, while I moved forward and took the position, and wiggled my ass, he took lubricant out of the drawer and lubed his cock.

    I kept wiggling my  ass, a bit drunkenly.  In the movie, [Hard Noon] the handcuffed sheriff was in his office, being held by two big outlaws while a third tore his clothes off and a fourth, the leader, watched, drinking whiskey.

    I jerked when Mr. Drake smeared lubricant between my ass cheeks [I hadn’t heard him come up behind me].  I stopped wiggling and he lubed my ass.

    In the film the outlaws held the mostly naked sheriff belly down across the width of the desk and the lead outlaw was fucking him.

    Mr. Drake pushed his cock up my hole, then began fucking me at a steady pace.

    I opened my mouth, occasionally moaning or sighing.

    Mr. Drake held  my shoulders and fucked me faster.  He spoke softly and tersely “You like that, huh?  You like Mr. Drake’s big nine-inch fuckwand ramming your hot ass.  Huh? “

    I said “uh-huh” several times and he fucked me faster each time.

    And almost ten minutes later he growled “fuck” a few times and shot a good load of cum into me.

    He shot a few more spurts, then withdrew, squeezed my shoulder and stood up.  He said we’d both better get some sleep, it was nearly 3:00 am.

    I turned the projector off, we said good night and I went up to my room.

    A quick shower later I hit the bed and crashed.

    Til next time 😁

    Val

  • Eyes of Noah

    My name is Noah, and I’m almost thirty-six years old. I live alone; I have no pets. I don’t even have any plants. My days are very routine. I get up at six in the morning and have breakfast, usually a piece of fruit with hot tea or coffee. I put milk in both of them, and I have no idea why I pick coffee on some days and tea on others. I always brush my teeth right after, and I shave while I’m in the shower. By seven o’clock, I’m backing out of my driveway and headed to work.

    Unless something prevents my getting to work on time, I park the car at seven-thirty, I’m at my computer by seven forty-five. I’m a programmer, and I’m on a team that is moving a program from a desktop version to version that will run in a browser. It’s tedious; it’s monotonous; it’s just like the rest of my life.

    When I was a teenager, I loved to write programs. This job has sucked the fun right out of that. But I thought that programming was always going to be as fun as it was then. I also thought I would marry Kathleen Baker and have four kids. But when I asked her to go to the homecoming dance in ninth grade, she announced to the whole cafeteria that she would not be going to any dance with a queer. I never asked another girl out. I never noticed a girl having any interest in me, nor any guy for that matter.

    At that point in my life, I didn’t consider myself gay. In fact, I had a very small sex drive. I masturbated from time to time, but to listen to the guys in gym class, they jerked off twelve times a day, and probably did it in their sleep as well. Sometimes, I would see a photo of a guy in a magazine and would wish that I were that handsome, so I sometimes jerked off while looking at that picture. Honestly, there were no guys at school that I secretly pined for; there were no guys I tried to get a sneak peek at in the shower. There was no one that I wished would teach me the ropes.

    As I reached my senior year of college, I took a real hard look at myself. I began to wonder if I were asexual. I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to spend my life with. I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to sleep with. I didn’t hang out with anyone. I really didn’t find anyone interesting. I didn’t avoid people, but I didn’t go out of my way to be with people. I didn’t enjoy drinking, so none of the parties really drew me in. Even the computer science club had been a bust. Too many people who wanted to play video games. I figured that I would have been a mountain man if I had been born two hundred years earlier.

    My first job was with an insurance company that wanted to streamline its data processing. I found the job challenging; it took up a regular forty hour week; there was no overtime, no weekends, no impossible to meet deadlines. Suddenly, I was thirty, but I still enjoyed the work. Then the company sold to a larger one. I still had a job, but the departments changed, the goals changed, and I was in a job with a horrible, monotonous routine and deadlines that were impossible. The supervisors in charge did not understand the realities of good programming. They demanded things be on time rather than bug-free. I spent extra hours to do the job right; they weren’t paying me for the extra hours, but I knew I had to do what was ethically right.

    One day, a supervisor came in and basically yelled at the entire programming team because she didn’t think we were going to make our target deadline. The stress of working so many hours and still getting lambasted resulted in my clenching my fists so tightly, that I broke the earpiece of my glasses. After work, I headed to the nearest optician shop to get them fixed or replaced.

    Christopher met me at the door. He quickly found out what I needed. He looked up my records, found out that he could order a new earpiece, which he called a temple, and found an identical pair of frames in the store. He quickly switched out the temple from the new frame, and told me he would put the one he ordered on the store’s frame. Within a few minutes, I had a pair of glasses I could wear. I paid him for the temple. He smiled and said it was his pleasure, and I went home.

    I stopped on the way home to get some Chinese food. I liked Kung Pao Chicken and hot and sour soup, but this time it seemed that the clerks at the restaurant seemed friendlier than usual. When I got back to my apartment and began eating, Christopher’s face popped into my head. I kept seeing him smile at me, and I realized how comfortable I felt talking to him, even though we hadn’t spoken for very long. As I ate, I tried to imagine how I could see him again and how our conversation would go.

    I decided that I could go back the next day and tell him the glasses felt just a little too tight, or maybe just a little too loose. Maybe if he weren’t busy, we could talk, and I might find out something he was interested in that I was interested in, too.

    The next day at work seemed really long. I raced through my work, and I left comments in the code for things I thought I could improve if I had more time. This seemed to satisfy my need to do a good job with my employer’s desire to get the job done fast. Finally, five o’clock arrived, and I headed out.

    I walked straight to Christopher’s store. I didn’t see him when I went in, but I told the clerk at the front that I wanted Christopher to adjust my frames as they seemed to be just a little tight. I was more than disappointed to find out that it was Christopher’s week to work on Saturday, so he wasn’t there that day. The clerk offered to adjust my frames, but I lied and said that Christopher had been the only optician who seemed to get them just right for me.

    I was surprised when she told me that she understood. “Chris is a very talented optician. A lot of people prefer to have him adjust their glasses.”

    I left knowing that he would be working both Friday and Saturday. I went home and reheated my leftover Chinese food. I watched “Star Trek” on Netflix and then went to bed. I tossed and turned for at least an hour as I replayed scenario after scenario of conversations I might have with Chris. I finally fell asleep and woke up the next morning feeling groggy.

    On Friday, I was given a new assignment, so I spent the day going over the specifications and formulating questions I would need answered before beginning. I was done early, and since there wasn’t anything else I could do on my project and no one else needed my help, I left early and headed to the optician’s.

    Chris was helping someone when I got there. I saw the same clerk from the day before. I noticed her name was Leslie. She told me that she would let Christopher know that I was there for an adjustment.

    I started looking at sunglasses while I waited, and I tried on several pairs. I found it rather confusing, because none of them seemed to make a difference in how I looked.

    “Are you thinking about some sunglasses?” Christopher moved in front of me.

    “I was thinking about it. But I’m going to need help picking a frame that looks good.”

    “You shouldn’t have any trouble with that. Leslie tells me that your frames are giving you trouble.”

    “Just a little. I think you got it almost perfect the first time, but can you help me pick a frame for my sunglasses first?” I asked him.

    “Of course. Except for making you look good, is there anything else you were wanting specifically?”

    “No,” I told him. “I’m going to go with what you recommend.”

    He walked over to the display, pulled a pair of frames from the shelf, and put them on me. “I like those.” He said it with such confidence that I agreed right away. He asked me to sit at a dispensing desk, and began filling out the order. “It’s Noah Anderson, right?”

    “That’s right. How’d you remember?” I felt my heart beating a little faster.

    “You were in just the other day.” He smiled.

    His eyes were a beautiful shade of dark green. I felt my dick get hard. What was happening to me here. Guys didn’t make me have erections. But then neither did girls.

    This guy was definitely giving me an erection.

    “Is something wrong?”

    “No. Nothing’s wrong.” I looked at his handsome face.

    “What is it then? Wait, I need to adjust your glasses, don’t I.”

    “About that,” I hesitated. “I lied about needing them fixed. They’re just fine.” I could see Christopher bite his lower lip. In my mind, I played out a scene that I dreaded. He’s had guys come onto him and turned them down because he has a girlfriend or a wife. Just my luck, the first guy in my life whom I find attractive has someone else.

    “So.” He waited for my explanation.

    I just looked at him. I was ashamed of lying.

    “Do you want the sunglasses?”

    “Yes, I do,” I told him. “I’m sorry for the lie. I wanted to talk to you; I wanted an excuse to do it.”

    “I’ll forgive you. Will you forgive me for lying to you?”

    “About what?” I couldn’t imagine what he had lied about.

    “When I told you how I remembered your name.”

    Now it was my turn to smile.

    He turned to Leslie. “It’s almost time for me to leave. I’m going to go a little early. Leslie nodded at him. “The sunglasses should be ready by the middle of next week.”

    I reached for my wallet.

    “Let’s take care of that when they come in.” He put the paperwork in a tray and placed it on a shelf behind him. “Now, let’s go and talk.”

    We walked out of the shop and into the afternoon sunlight. None of my scenarios covered this situation.

    “On Fridays,” I told him, “I always get pizza and get a movie from Redbox.”

    “You always do that?”

    “For as long as I can remember.”

    “Let’s talk about that, too. Maybe it’s time for a change.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Which way do you go home?”

    Pointing toward the north, I said, “Hamilton Avenue.”

    “And I go east on MacArthur. So let’s go south.”

    “I don’t know where that goes,” I admitted. “I’ve never needed to go that way.”

    “It’s a new way for me, too.” Christopher smiled.

    I smiled back. “It’s a new adventure.”

    “That it is,” Christopher returned. “Now, talk to me.”

    As we walked, I told him that before meeting him the other day, I had never really had an attraction to another person, and since meeting him, he seemed to pervade my thoughts. I told him that I needed to talk to him, to get to know him better, and that my brain kept telling me that he could be the one I’ve been waiting for; although up until now, I never realized I was waiting for anyone.

    Christopher Bond, thirty-two, never married, one serious relationship just out of college, failed because his boyfriend couldn’t keep it in his pants. The information came spilling out; more information than I think I wanted to know, but at least he was honest. He hadn’t had sex in over a year, and that was with a friend of his cousin while on a trip to the beach. He had a master of library science, but he had been lured into the optical business by his brother-in-law.

    At that point in his story, we were standing in front of a Burger King. We went inside, and I bought a Whopper with cheese, chicken fries, and a Dr. Pepper for him. He bought me a Whopper with cheese, no onions, onion rings, and a Coke. It seemed rather manly that each of us paid for the other’s meal and that we didn’t go dutch. We took our meals to go, and as we walked back to my apartment (because it was closer), we talked about our favorite childhood memories.

    I unlocked the door to my apartment and let Chris go inside first. I asked him to excuse the mess, because I hadn’t thought about our coming here after meeting him at the shop. On the way up the stairs, we had decided to watch a movie together, and we discovered that we were both fans of 1950s sci-fi. We decided on “When Worlds Collide.” It was part of my DVD collection.

    Chris started the movie while I got us a Coke. I placed them on the coffee table and sat at one end of the couch. With the movie started, he came and sat right next to me. He put his hand on my leg and pushed himself back. Once settled back, he put one arm around my shoulder. He smiled at me again, and I’m sure those dark green eyes made my dick begin to get hard again. I snuggled into him.

    Concentrating on the movie proved difficult for me. Feeling his body next to mine, even though it wasn’t bare skin to bare skin, excited me. I glanced at his face from time to time, and his arm and pulled me more closely to him each time. One time he leaned his head over and kissed my ear; another time, he kissed my temple. I wondered what it would be like to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

    The rocket landed safely on Zyra, and everyone looked out at the matte painting of the new world, and the movie ended. Chris turned his head and kissed me. I think I’d wanted him to do that since I first met him two days earlier. It was my first kiss, and I couldn’t believe how good it felt. I moved my body so that my head faced his. There was no loud smacking like there is in some kissing scenes in movies. Instead, our lips gently brushed together. I moved my arm so that my hand was on his pectoral muscle. It was big and muscular, and just touching it made my cock throb.

    My lips were gently pushed apart by Chris’ tongue. There was the faint taste of ketchup but mostly it was a sweet taste that I would come to know as the taste of Chris. The tip of his tongue squeaked against my front teeth; I felt his tongue explore my mouth, and I sucked it into mine. Chris pulled his tongue back and then plunged it into my mouth again. Then he grabbed the back of my head and pulled our lips so tightly together that our teeth met. He began to chew on my lips.

    I wanted to kiss his nipples, so I started to unbutton his shirt. He moved his hands down and helped me. Once the shirt was open, I pushed the collar over his shoulders and part way down his arms. His arms were held in place, and I leaned forward and ran the tip of my tongue around his areolas while my hands moved up and down his hairy chest. I straddled one of his legs and rubbed my crotch on his muscular thigh. Chris tried to stand up, but my body pinned him on the couch. He struggled to get free of his shirt, but he wasn’t successful.

    As I began to kiss his other nipple, I moved my hand to his crotch. I felt his hard penis beneath the folds of his pants. “I hope my dick isn’t too much of a disappointment.”

    I sat back on his knee and nearly slid off onto the floor. How could he think any part of him would be a disappointment to me? “Never,” I told him. I helped him remove his shirt. “Do you want to stay here on the couch or go to the bedroom?”

    “Wait,” his tone seemed serious. “Before anything else happens, I want you to know that my dick is very thin. It’s the reason my boyfriend cheated on me. And the last time I was with someone, he started to call me pencil.”

    “They both sound like assholes to me. What I just felt seemed big enough to me.”

    We spent about a minute in silence just looking at one another. I saw a handsome man with broad shoulders and a muscular, hairy chest. He looked like the pictures of men I’d always hoped to look like, and I realized that I had been wrong. It wasn’t the man I wanted to be; it was the man I wanted. And here he was.

    “You haven’t answered me. Here or the bedroom?” It didn’t matter which answer he gave me, I was prepared to give him as much of me as he wanted. I seemed to see his eyes glisten.

    He began to stand up, and I let him this time. “I don’t know if what I’m feeling now is the beginning of love or whether it’s a huge dose of lust because you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met. I choose the bedroom.

    My arms wrapped around him, and I kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss. I wanted him. At that moment I would have traded all my possessions to have him. His arms reached around me and lifted me by my ass. My toes dangled just above the ground. He kissed me again then let my body slide down to the ground as he pulled my shirt off over my head.

    He now saw my skinny chest in all its lack of splendor, but he pulled me to him. “Lead the way.”

    I took him to my bedroom. A simple full-sized bed with a small headboard and a simple nightstand were the only furniture. Wide board blinds covered the windows. “You’re the first person I’ve ever brought to my bedroom.” We stood at the doorway as we looked into the room.

    “Maybe I’ll be the only man you ever bring.”

    His words surprised me. I knew the feelings I had inside were stronger than I had ever expected, but I wondered if that was the result of letting myself feel them for the first time. Maybe they were this strong because of the man I was standing next to. Was he feeling things that strongly? I believed he was.

    He grasped my hand gently in his and kissed me gently. “Let’s make love,” he whispered.

    I was his, and I knew I would let him do anything he wanted.

    He reached his arms around me and pulled me up and to him. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Our chests touched. I could feel the hair on his chest with mine; it made me want him more. I released the grasp I had with my legs and he lowered me back to the floor. I lowered myself down and pressed my face into his crotch. I could feel his fingers run through my hair as I undid the buckle of his belt. I pressed my lips against him. I could feel his cock twitch. Unzipping his pants, I tugged them down to his ankles. I could see the outline of his dick beneath his underwear.

    I grabbed the elastic band and moved it down. His dick seemed to make it more difficult to pull them down, but then it suddenly popped loose and pointed right at me. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine anyone making fun of his cock. I could tell it was thinner than mine, but it was incredibly straight. It seemed about six to seven inches long, and it was uncut. About one-half an inch peeked out from the foreskin, and the piss-slit was perfectly centered in the opening. I leaned forward and kissed the tip; then I spread open my lips and ran my tongue over the head and massaged the slit with the tip of my tongue.

    Christopher moaned softly, so I knew he liked what I was doing. With my lips around the tip of his cock, I sucked the head into my mouth. The foreskin moved back, and I ran my tongue around the head. I wanted to feel the length of his member in my mouth, but I was worried about hurting him with my teeth or gagging on its length. I began to move up and down with my lips holding tightly to maintain suction. With each downward motion, I took more of him into my mouth. I started to feel the head hit the back of my throat. He continued to moan, and suddenly my lips were at the base. Knowing his entire cock was in my mouth made my cock harden and strain against my pants. I reached around and held onto his ass cheeks as I moved up and down his dick more rapidly.

    “Slow down, Noah. You’re going to make me cum. I don’t want to cum yet.”

    I obeyed his wish and released him. He pulled me up and kicked off his pants and underwear. Directing me to the bed, he pushed me back and removed the rest of my clothing. He moved on top of me and covered my mouth with his. I felt his hand toying with my dick. I felt his finger run across the opening and saw it glistening with precum as he licked it.

    “Just a hint of saltiness,” he said.

    I smiled, and he moved down between my legs. He ran his tongue down the shaft of my penis and then began to kiss and lick my balls. He sucked one of my balls into his mouth. The pressure of it was one of those feelings that seemed a little uncomfortable and then felt really great. I felt Christopher’s finger run across my ass pucker. It felt wonderful, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of the surface of his tongue massaging my asshole. I moaned his name, and he continued to give me the most intense pleasure with his lips and tongue.

    His fingers encircled my penis as his mouth left a wet trail up my abdomen and chest. He ran his tongue on my jawline and then across my lower lip. We began to kiss again when his finger circled my asshole and then slipped inside. I gasped and began to pant. I was embarrassed that I sounded like a dog on a hot day when Chris slipped two fingers inside me. Tears filled my eyes, but it wasn’t because of pain; there was no pain. The feeling gave me the desire to shove my penis into a tight hole, but I felt paralyzed by the incredible sensation.

    Chris moved between my legs and with his strong muscular arms, he bent my knees up to my chest. I reached my hands up and pulled his head to mine and kissed him, then I reached down and pushed the head of his dick against my anus. I wanted him. I could tell by his face that he wanted me.

    The initial pressure of his dick trying to push into me felt really good. Then I had the sensation that I was going to have a bowel movement. It was not a comfortable feeling. Then it was as if his cock popped inside me. That was a rush, as if all my nerve endings screamed for joy. Chris pushed himself all the way in me. He was gentle, and the action was filled with love and caring. He stopped pushing. “Are you alright, baby?”

    “Yes. Oh, yes.” I tilted my hips just slightly and the pleasure increased.

    Chris breathed out with a pleasure filled moan and then began to slide out and push in. I made little gasps as he did. Others may disagree, but this moment was worth waiting for. The motion began to speed up; my dick throbbed harder with each of his thrusts. We became one synchronous motion that reminded me of the steam engine on a train. At some point, every muscle in my body seemed to contract, and a stream of liquid cum expelled from my cock with a force I had not witnessed prior. My sphincter tightened around Chris, and he thrust with more enthusiasm, and I felt a pressure within me as he filled me with his cum.

    We collapsed down. He was still on top of me. His mouth next to my cheek and his rapid breathing prevented him from talking. I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me. When our heartbeats slowed to normal, I led him to the shower. We had fun lathering up and rinsing off, and we ended up using all the hot water. Shivering in the cold, we quickly toweled and got into bed. We snuggled together, both on our sides. I held him close; I didn’t want to let go, and I haven’t. We’re still together twenty years later.

    And he’s still never charged me for those sunglasses.