Author: admin

This is a second tale connecting to the ‘Hungry for Vince‘ Story. His stepfather now wants the hot Vince. This is only Fiction.

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Rick remembered coming home and seeing his hot stepson sitting there in front of the TV. Passed out from drinking with his friend. Both guys were fast asleep. He had remembered how deeply his stepson always slept

“Like a rock as always.” He said as he tried to wake Vince verbally. Then he tried with Vince’s friend. “Hey Oscar, wake up.” Rick called out to him. “Shit him too.”

He thought it funny that these two guys would be out from the beers they drank. Well, he was about to go back to the garage when Rick looked over to see his stepson had a slight damp spot on his shorts. And under the damp spot was his son’s bulging basket. His eyes widened as he looked down there and at the awesome crotch of his hot stepson. Lust returning to his eyes.

Rick had harbored desires for his stepson ever since he was 17. The boy that was his wife’s son had grown up handsome and strong. Definitely from his wife’s side of the family. Because his side they were all fat and dumpy and could not possibly bare such a god. And from the first moment he had seen his son in those briefs a few years back. He wanted to grab him and have him. and now here he was again. looking hot as hell. 

Rick looked down between his stepson’s thick legs and saw the huge bulging basket. He licked his lips and started to feel his cock twitch in his pants. He tried to shake it off and went over to wake his stepson. But as he got closer and touch Vince’s knee. The heat of the hairy leg made him think otherwise. Rick gently stroked the hot meaty leg of his son. The fur on it sending a rush of lust through him. His hand slowly glided over the thick thigh as he moved closer to his shorts. As Rick reached the hem of Vince’s shorts. He saw the thick slab of cock beneath the material. He licked his lips again and placed his hand over his stepson’s cock. He felt the warmth of Vince beneath his hand. Rick then squeezed the thick tube.

“Fuck” He said softly to himself.

His cock was raging in his pants as he stroked his stepson’s big cock through his shorts. his hand moved down to the bulging balls and cupped them gently. They felt big in his hands. Then as Rick’s hand moved back to the shaft, he heard his wife’s car pull up. Reluctantly he removed his hand. Pissed that his wife had come home. Then he walked out of the room and headed toward his own bedroom. Past the bedroom and to the bathroom and reached over to the door and locked it. Rick began to jerk of at the thought of his son Vince. Pat called out for him from the bedroom.

“I’m in here taking a dump” He said. “Okay. Thank you for that” She called back

After he finished jerking himself to a thick load. He wiped down the toilet and washed up.

It was about 2 weeks later that Rick came home to Vince in the game room playing pool. He seemed upset because he was hitting the balls really hard.

“What’s goin on” He asked. “Nothing” Vince replied, “Well something is wrong because yer trying to shatter those pool balls there” “Just girl trouble is all” Vince said. 

But he didn’t want to discuss it. Vince was wearing just a pair of sweat shorts that he liked laying around in. Rich could see the fat head of his stepson’s dick pressed against the material. His cock began to twitch in his pants again. Threatening to become a noticeable problem

“Well if you want to talk” He offered. 

Rick stepped out of the room and went to the kitchen. Rick had to try and get his son to open up so he can see where he could take this. Pat was gone for the entire day with the nieces. And he may never get another chance.

“You want a beer” He called out from the kitchen “Sure” came the reply. 

So, Rick brought Vince a beer and tried to get him to tell him what the matter was. The problem was his stepson didn’t like him very much. After his father left and Vince had become and adult, they butted heads way too often. He continued to probe to see if his stepson would talk to him.

“So, what’s goin’ on with this girl?” He tried to ask. “Nothing man” Vince replied. “Okay then”. Rick said. “You can always tell me son. “Yeah” He mumbled back.

They played some pool for a while and had about a dozen drinks. Vince having most of them. Rick kept trying to steer the conversation towards girls and sex. And with every beer Vince began to mellow and give him more info.

“So, what is it. She doesn’t wanna give it up lately?” Rick asked as they spoke. “Yeah. she keeps bitchen that I fuck her too hard.” Vince replied.

Rick looked down at Vince’s crotch. The cock was starting to stir from all the talk of sex and pussy. Seeing his stepsons dick push at the cotton of the sweat shorts. Growing with every moment. Ricks eyes grew as he glanced down at it

“Well maybe you should just go out and fuck some whore to release that pent of frustration and horniness.” “Fuck no” Vince said.

Rick felt his own cock stir as Vince groped his package. The big meat was starting to form a tent in his Vince’s crotch. He gulped down a hard swallow as he gazed at the enlarging bulge Vince had. How big was that thing gonna get? So he decided to push the conversation a bit more. Seeing how far he could test his newfound connection with his stepson.

“Well by the looks of it you need it now” Rick pointed out. 

Vince looked down to see that his stepdad was right. He was getting a hard on. An obvious one at that. But as he looked up, he saw Rick lick his lips. And that both pissed him off as well as excited him. Seeing his freak stepdad ogling his crotch.

“Looks like you want to suck me” He then said. 

Rick snapped out of the trance Vince’s cock had taken him to and said. “What the fuck are you talkin’ bout’?. I am not..” 

He tried to push back and say he was not staring at Vince. But Vince knew better. He had seen that look on ither guys before. The neighbor Oscar was someone that had. And he took that ass real good.

“What like I can’t see you staring at my dick Rick.” He then growled. “What, are you a faggot” “Yer fukkin’ nuts boy” Rick then shouted at him.

Well, that was what Vince didn’t like being called boy when he was a man. His asshole stepfather always called him that when he was being a jerk. This enraged Vince. So, he dropped the pool stick and rushed his stepdad. Jumping on him.

“What the!…” Rick started to shout out.

But Vince was on him fast. Being bigger and stronger, Rick didn’t stand a chance. Vince picked him up and slams him to the floor. Rick cried out from the pain. Then Vince sat on his Rick’s chest and looks down at him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take out my frustration alright” He huffed at Rick with a mean scowl.

Rick looked directly at the tenting crotch. Vinces’s cock was so close now. Right there inches from him. He wanted it badly but is also afraid of his stepson. the younger beefier man could easily fuck him up. 

“Get up bitch.” Vince growled 

Rick got up on his knees and Vince grabbed his head and shoved it in his crotch. Rick felt the heavy full bulge on his face now. his head began to spin with confusion and lust.

“Go on bitch do it” Vince ordered him

Rick simply gave in and grabbed for the tenting crotch. Hi hand going for that object of his lust now. He felt Vince’s semi hard dick under the material. It felt great, oh so great. He then stroked his son through his shorts. Then he moved in and places his mouth over that bulging cock.

“Come on man do it” Vince grunted above him.

Rick chewed on the hefty meat through the shorts. Loving how it felt on his face, how it throbbed against his mouth. 

“Hmm yeah man do it” Vince moaned

Rick then pulled down the shorts and Vince’s huge cock flopped out before him. Rick wasted no time in taking it in his mouth.

“Fuck man thats pretty good dad” Vince then said

Rick is finally getting the cock he has needed. That big ole hog his stepson owns…

Jay had always been interested in the feeling of being tied up and tickled, he had played childish games with friends, wrestling and tickling both guys and girls. It wasn’t until he started to get into his adolescent year’s that he realised that these things were a turn on. This corresponded well with his newfound use of the Internet, a whole new world was emerging for Jay, one that allowed him to explore his fetish and find others like him.

Jay was coming up to his 18th birthday, he had been chatting on MSN messenger to a friend who he had found on the tickling chat sites. His friend was older than he was and he was also gay. At first, Jay only found interest in women tickling content but as his exploration of his fetish grew he started to find gay tickling extremely interesting. Was he gay? He didn’t think so, but the idea of being tied up and mercilessly tickled by another guy who had complete control over him was very horny for him.

Jay is a skinny build lad, has dark brown hair, bright blue eyes. Others found him attractive but he wasn’t your typical jock or athletic guy the girls wooed over. Some might describe him as your typical boy next door type. Either way on MSN he had developed a lasting friendship with John his older gay soon to be tickle master, who was very keen for Jay to come over to his place for some tickling fun. A lot of reassurance was needed, Jay considered himself straight, he was being asked to go strip to his boxers to a guy he’d never meet and be tied up. 

Eventually, the day came where he plucked up the courage to go. It was late at night maybe 1 am, Jay had been chatting to John for the past 2 hours, he was very horny, John had told him everything that he was going to do to him and he was beginning to think it was time. John lived 45 mins drive from Jay and so after discussion(as Jay was only just near his 18th birthday he couldn’t drive) he agreed to come to pick him up. 

Jay snuck out of his parent’s house, gently closing doors as his parents slept upstairs. Walked to the bottom of the road where John was waiting in his car. He looked in to see a smiling face which put him at ease. And off they went to John’s apartment. Idle chat and some discussion of limits during the journey and all of a sudden the car pulled into the parking space.

Jay got out and followed John up the rear outside staircase to the rear entrance of the apartment. He stood in the kitchen, took his coat off and was in jeans and a plain t-shirt. John offered him a drink of vodka to calm the nerves. Gripping his glass he walked into the bedroom where the restraints were already attached to the bed, a cuff in each corner of the bed seemed to be cushioned which was a surprise as it was Jay’s first time seeing restraints. 

Jay removed his t-shirt and trainers, putting them on a chair nearby. John looked at him, “best take the jeans off too” he said. Jay slowly complied with the instruction and put them next to the other items. “Lay on the bed then,” John said with a smile, then he attached wrist restraints followed by a slow walk to the foot of the bed where the ankle cuffs were bucked in place. This was it thought Jay, he was completely immobile, he couldn’t pull his arms down anywhere or move his feet. He was vulnerable.

John lay next to him on the bed, looking right into the eyes of this younger tired up skinny lad who he now had control over. To prove his point he pulled out a blindfold and put it over Jay’s eyes. Jay first felt John’s fingers trace across his stomach gently gliding and went from side to side and across the edge of his boxers. Jay knew then this was horny and felt his cock start to murmur. But he couldn’t do anything about it. His thought process quickly started to get erratic as John started moving his fingers over the ribs and sides, little poked and prods causing Jay to jump and start to feel the ticklishness that he feared, the smirking on Jays face made John know he was on the right path, stomach, ribs, sides, boxer short edging… Jay was now laughing and his cock was completely hard from John’s hand getting so close to it but not touching it, which was agreed he wouldn’t.

John was enjoying himself, watching that squirm and laugh as his fingers danced over his torso, he continued this for at least 5 minutes. Jay was panting but still hadn’t spoken. A short break as John stops to move, Jay has no idea where he’s going next until he feels Johns fingers on the top of his biceps, he slowly rakes them down towards Jays pits which had caused Jay to start to violently shake and move. “Somewhere ticklish Jay,” says John, as he fully assaults Jay’s pits. Jay is now bowling and wriggling to try to escape but those restraints hold him exactly where he is. Nothing can stop him from this attack. John’s fingers are now dancing in and out of his pits, across his ribs and proving his sides and Jay can just lay there laughing without hope for mercy. Jay didn’t know whether he was going to faint, cry or cum from all the tickling, it had only been 15 minutes and John had no plans to stop yet! “Did that tickle?” John asked as he briefly stops to move. The next 15 minutes were very much the same as the last with every inch of Jay’s ticklish torso being exploited by John’s gentle but vicious fingers, the only difference this time is John is now positioned across Jay’s waist basically mounting him so there is nowhere for Jay’s body to move. Each assaulting hand that tickles into Jay’s pits or side is causing Jay to grind his rock hard cock on John. (John knew exactly what he was doing) Jay was now begging for the tickling to stop, his breathing was becoming harder as his whole body was creasing to escape the tickling hands of John! Zero mercy was shown to the first-timer, he was being properly tickled just as he asked for. John had spotted his pits were by far the worst spot and was taking great pleasure in teasing them building up the anticipation in Jay till he go to the point of screaming “no please stop don’t do it” not a word was listened too and Jay’s pits were somewhat ritualistically tickled causing Jay to jolt, laugh, beg, scream and still rub his dick all over the mounted ass of John.

“That was fun” said John as he got off Jay, who was now just panting without words, “I can tell you enjoyed it” as John’s eyes glanced over Jay sticking up cock through his boxers.

Jay just lay there panting from all the tickling as John slowly slide his hand over Jays cock over his boxers, the moans were getting louder as Jay was clearly enjoying the feeling of his cock being stroked, all the straightness of the young skinny boy had gone, he needed to cum. He didn’t care if it was a guy or not. John continued to tease him, knowing he was getting extremely horny. “Do you like that” John said smiling, no reply as Jay just lay there, a quick tickle to the pits “i can do this instead if you prefer?” said John, which trigger Jay to respond. “Noooo please”

After getting Jay very hard! To the point he didn’t know why he hasn’t cum all into his boxers by now, suddenly it stopped. John walked to the end of the bed and started to scratch the soles of Jay’s poor socked feet. “Oh god,” say said Jay as again he started to burst into laughter, John sat right in the middle of Jay’s legs and raked his fingers down both soles, only stopping on one to hold the toes of the others back and run and single finger nail right down Jays sole. “Arrrgggghhh please” pleaded Jay to no avail as he is socked feet were abused beyond his worst nightmares, what felt like an hour was only 10 mins and John was again teasing Jays cock to get him back to the edge of orgasm, still through his boxers and still with Jay not knowing which was worse the tickling or the lack of him spunking his balls.

John now lay back alongside Jay one hand teasing Jay’s cock the other tickling Jays armpit all as Jay lay’s there laughing and moaning going slowly insane, his whole body has been abused by the tackling fingers of John and he is broken, it’s been nearly an hour of intense tickling. “Please let me cum” begs Jay. “Maybe but only after some more tickling” laughs John as he attacks both armpits at the same time, Jay crying out at the unfairness of not cumming and being ticket tortured even more.

Eventually, after another 20 mins of tickle torture, Jay’s body is just collapsed on the bed, he has lost all sense of what is happening around him, he hasn’t stopped laughing and begging for over an hour now and he is so horny his mind is blurring everything into one. His boxers have by now been pulled down and his shaft has been covered in oil, it’s so wet and the rhythmic stroking up and down by John’s hand has him in a euphoric state, it’s shattered every time he gets to the edge by the hand stopping and it tickling of his pits, now even more sensitive due to all the oiled fingers attacking them.

The once straight, innocent young skinny lad is now laid naked, sweaty with a hard-on like he’s never had before, begging the older gay John to make him cum. “You can cum but only if you agree to come back and be my tickle slave again,” says John, knowing he has broken this first-timer into his own personal tickle slave. “Yes, for fuck sake please let me cum” begs Jay.

John oils his hand one more time this time applying more grip to Jays shaft and he is wanking it faster and harder than before, “I’m going to cum” screams Jay, just before his cock is splurting cum all over his belly, still jerking with one hand John has started tickling the pits of Jay as one final punishment to ruin his orgasm… “Noooooo” screams Jay as he arches his back still spilling cum and now being post cum tortured and tickled as his mind can’t take any more abuse. 

“That was incredible,” says Jay thanking John on.the drive home. “Please can I come over again soon” Jay pleads. “Im sure I can accommodate that” smirks Ticklemaster.

“Shh, I think I hear something.”

I held my hand over Dabir’s mouth, as he had been moaning loudly. If the walls of this flimsy Soweto school building were thin enough for me to hear the whistling approaching, the pain-pleasure of Dabir’s moaning might filter back to the whistler. There would be little mistaking what was going on in this small infirmary room, more a closet, the only place there was even a cot in the school building.

Dabir, nearly my age in his mid-twenties, young, handsome, trim, and ebony to my ivory, was crouched in my lap, facing me, rising and falling on my shaft, using the leverage of his bent-leg knees that hugged my hips closely to fuck himself on my cock. We were only able to meet like this in late afternoons on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which was when Dabir’s teaching duties included doing what cleaning was possible after the students had left for the day.

Our coming together like this wasn’t just impolitic, it was extremely dangerous—to the point of life threatening. Although the atmosphere was showing signs of the change we had waited for for so long, we were only five years beyond the 1976 Soweto uprising, in which student protests over Apartheid had resulted in a bloody crackdown. So many young people, including students from this very school, had died at the hands of the Division: Internal Stability unit of the South African Police. The danger we were entertaining in our sexual couplings in the dark here in the Soweto school went far beyond Dabir being black and me white. I was a police constable. I wasn’t in the Internal Stability unit—I was only a first-rung street policeman—but I was a policeman and, worse, my grandfather was a major in the Internal Stability unit. If he learned what I did—what my sexual preferences and choice of partners were—it would kill him. But he would kill me first, and, in these volatile times, the public outcry would be intense. He would also see to it that Dabir didn’t survive.

We held, barely breathing, aware that there wasn’t much more than plywood for the wall I was leaning back to and pressing my shoulder blades against as I held Dabir’s waist and helped him rise and fall on my cock. The whistling grew louder, but it didn’t pause on the other side of where we held position. There was a window by the foot of the cot, but we didn’t have a light on inside and the bed sheet curtain should be sufficient if the whistler thought to try to look inside. There was no reason for him to do that, though, unless he’d already heard us and was brave enough to investigate. The school was closed for the night.

The whistling continued on by us and receded into the distance. We tried to take up from where we had suspended the fuck, but we had lost the urgency and the fear of exposure overpowered us.

I whispered, “Sorry,” feeling myself losing my hard.

Almost simultaneously, Dabir whispered, “Sorry,” having lost the rhythm we’d attained. He rolled off me and sat on the floor next to the cot.

“There will be other times,” I said.

“Can we really count on that?” he responded.

I had no answer for that and didn’t bother to try one. I ran my fingers into his close-cropped, wiry hair and found myself humming the tune the person who had passed by on the other side of the wall had been whistling. We both gave another little, nervous laugh. There, just for a few moments, we’d been beyond the reality of South Africa and had been in a heaven all our own. We were back in the dirt of Africa now, though.

“No reason for either of us to be sorry,” I murmured. “Really, just being able to be here with you for a short time is worth the danger.” “Someday it won’t be like this. Someday, we will be able to declare ourselves in the open.”

“I’m not sure I can see that day from here,” Dabir said.

“The international community is pressuring Apartheid now. Companies are divesting; countries are imposing sanctions. South Africa can’t exist in a vacuum.”

“I wasn’t here for the uprising,” Dabir answered, “but the other teachers in this school were and they still speak of students lost just protesting. And it isn’t just the race issue. It’s you and me—wanting each other. I can’t see the day that will happen here. And you’re a constable—the white establishment. Maybe elsewhere. Maybe if we went somewhere like France.”

I didn’t bother arguing the point with him. I could see the nervousness within the government and the white establishment. They understood what was coming even if they were pretending they didn’t. I could understand if he couldn’t believe it was inevitably coming. The Apartheidists put up a good front. But it was all unraveling. It was inevitable, I thought. Then we could . . .

“I think it is easier for you,” Dabir said. “You have someone you can confide in. Me, I have no one. I know you fear your grandfather ever learning of this. But it is not much different for me. No one in my family would understand or accept.”

“Yes, I have Dorthea,” I admitted. My aunt was very perceptive. She had seen it. Her husband, my uncle, John, had also been in the police—a sergeant—but he was not as hardnosed as his father, my grandfather. Dorthea was sensitive. She had guessed and then she had worked to shield me and, more than once, to cover me from my grandfather finding out.

But John and Dorthea were gone from Cape Town now. She had taken ill, some sort of wasting disease, and my uncle had been burned out by the police work. They had gone into the interior, into the Breed River Valley, near the town of Robertson, and had a small vineyard now. They said they needed a simpler life than the turmoil—much of it wrapped up in Apartheid—here in Cape Town. Thinking of that made me remember.

“I won’t be able to come on Thursday.”

“Why?” Dabir asked. His disappointment was obvious.

“My aunt has asked me to visit them in Robertson. She says it’s important. She’s been so good to me—so understanding and protective of us—that I must go. I fear it’s about her health. I hope not.”

“I will miss you.”

“The times are changing, Dabir. I promise you that. We just have to wait it out.”

It was dark and the area of the school was deserted, but the care with which we both left the schoolhouse—separately, surreptitiously—gave proof to just how dangerous our relationship and our understanding of that was. It was doubly dangerous in this time. It wasn’t just that I was white and he was black. It also was because we were gay—and were gay together. We were doubly damned in this society.

* * * *

When my Uncle John had left the police force and he and my aunt, Dorthea, moved to the Breede River Valley area, they had told my grandfather, Pietr Adams, that it was for Dorthea’s health. I had known she was in delicate health, but she’d always been and she’d had a good job in an agricultural consultancy in Cape Town. She seemed to love city life. But just as she had protected me from my grandfather learning that I was gay—and that my lover was black—she protected her husband, my uncle, from having to tell his police official father that he was burned out in police work. At least that’s what I thought, and that was part of it, but I was to learn that it wasn’t all of it.

When I arrived at the vineyard near Robertson, I had to give credence to Dorthea’s health having played a large part in the decision to leave the busy city for the slower-paced country. She looked quite ill and obviously was weak. I had to check myself in how I greeted her. I couldn’t say either that she looked well, because she didn’t, or that country life was good for her, because there didn’t appear to have been anything good for her in this move since the last time I saw her.

Her housekeeper, Lewa, who they had brought with them from Cape Town along with her twenty-year-old son, Zula, the family’s gardener in Cape Town and vine worker here at the vineyard outside Robertson, greeted me at the door and took me to Dorthea, who was seated in the kitchen. Uncle John wasn’t there. Dorthea looked a wreck and emaciated. I could well understand why she hadn’t greeted me at the door—that I had to be brought to her. I know the shock involuntarily showed in my expression.

Lewa went to the sink and cupboards, preparing tea and biscuits for us, delivering it to the table with a cautioning look for me on her face, and then returning, facing away from us. I knew she’d been with Dorthea forever, but I was surprised at what Dorthea was willing to reveal while a black servant was in the room. I had to admit that Dorthea never treated Lewa in that way, though.

“I would get up, but I can’t—not today,” Dorthea said, giving me a wan smile and holding a hand out to me. She and I had always gotten along well and her knowing about Dabir and not criticizing or condemning me seemed to have only brought us closer. She had always been honest and straightforward with me. “Some days I can move around. This doesn’t seem to be one of them.”

“And this is why you asked me to come to the valley to see you?” I asked.

“No, I could have told you I wasn’t getting better on the phone or in a letter, and I’m told there’s nothing imminent—that this could take some time, which isn’t really all that reassuring, I will have to admit. The nights are the worse. Lewa stays here with me. John is staying at her cottage now—at least for the nights.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “So, if that’s not what you asked me to come about, what . . . not that I’m not glad you called me. I always appreciate the opportunity to visit with you.”

“Before you sit down,” she said, not addressing my question, “I think perhaps we should have a nice fire.” There was a fireplace by the kitchen table alcove in the old main house of the winery. “And I know you want to look in on John and let him know you’ve arrived . . .”—there was a pause as Lewa had dropped a glass at the sink and she and I were engaged in getting the shards up. Dorthea didn’t make a fuss of that happening other than to seek assurances that Lewa hadn’t been cut.

“There’s a wood pile by Lewa’s cottage and I know John is there,” Dorthea continued. “You could check in on him and bring some wood back, and we could have a nice fire going before we chat.”

“Certainly,” I said. Such was my concern for her that I’d do anything to make her more comfortable. This wasn’t my first visit here. I knew where the cottage was that Lewa and her gardener son, Zula—a handsome, strapping young ebony man some five years my junior who was a hard worker and devoted to the family—lived now, having come up from Cape Town with Dorthea and John. I didn’t occur to me that Dorthea hadn’t mentioned where Zula was sleeping since Lewa had moved into the house to help Dorthea at night and John was now in the cottage.

But of course Dorthea had it all planned out.

At Lewa’s cottage I was about to knock, when I found that the door was ajar and I heard the sounds of their exertions before I could call out to ask where Uncle John was.

They were in a bedroom, on a bed, fucking unabashedly and openly. It was obvious they didn’t worry about either Dorthea or Lewa being surprised about finding them in this position. I have to admit that, although I’d suppressed the thought, I couldn’t be surprised either, having seen how the two interacted when they lived in Cape Town. I’d just chalked that up to my being oversensitive with my own feelings in secret for Dabir.

They were both naked, Uncle John in good condition for being in his mid-thirties, but Zula a young, muscular god. John was on his back, a bolster under the small of his back, rolling his pelvis up to give Zula deep access. His legs were bent and spread, feet flat on the mattress, giving John leverage to rock his hips up to take Zula’s downward thrusts deep. His back was arched and his arms were stretched out in a sacrificial position, his cheek pressed to the mattress. His face was turned from me. I don’t know if he knew I was there or not. I had a feeling that he didn’t care whether I knew or not. Didn’t I lie with an ebony lover too and John know that I did?

Was I any different from him? But, yes, I was. I wasn’t married or otherwise in a relationship with a woman. I wasn’t any more legal here in South Africa or in concert with social morals and demands—but I wasn’t involving anyone but Dabir and me.

But that wasn’t true—because of my grandfather’s beliefs and position in the police, with both John and me in the police as well, I had involved both John and Dorthea in my choices as well. They had helped shield me from the wrath of my grandfather, society in South Africa, and the Apartheid laws.

Zula, a beautiful, vibrant, virile, and vigorous young man, was kneeling between John’s spread thighs and hovering over my uncle’s prone body. He was palming John’s pecs, and he was fucking John deep, his body glistening with sweat from his athletic exertion, his firm and muscular buttocks clenching and releasing, as he mastered my uncle with long, deep, vigorous slides.

I backed out of the door. The stack of wood was there to the side, on the porch. I took up an armful, wondering to what extent Dorthea knew what I would find here, and staggered back to the main house. Before I arrived, it became clear to me that I saw exactly what she wanted me to see, as I noticed for the first time that there was another stack of wood right there next to the door into the kitchen.

They were both where I had left them—Dorthea sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea, and Lewa at the sink, facing away from us. I no longer wondered why she hadn’t been sent away for this conversation. Zula was her son. This was her concern as much as it was Dorthea’s—or mine. She seemed as resolved to the situation as Dorthea was.

“So, you saw,” Dorthea said, when I’d laid the wood and gotten the fire going. My morose demeanor had assured her I did.

“Yes,” I said. What could I say in terms of anger or moral disgust? I was having in on with Dabir. But John had a wife and I did not.

“I can understand them. But I don’t understand how you could—”

“Sometimes reality steps in unavoidably,” Dorthea interrupted. “None of us can help what life deals us, Paul. Surely, you, of all people, should know that. Marriage is more than sex, and sex is something I don’t have to offer anymore. John is devoted to me in all ways that still matter. He easily could abandon me in my sickness and gone with a totally different life, but he hasn’t.”

I let that sink in. She obviously was making the best she could of the situation. “So, Uncle John didn’t leave the force and move you to the country because you were ill. This relationship developed while you were still in Cape Town.”

“It’s true I’m ill. But I could be ill in Cape Town as conveniently as here. So, yes, we left Cape Town because of John . . . and Zula. As dangerous as this is for John, it is devastatingly so for Zula. And Lewa and Zula are family to us.”

She paused to catch her breath. I looked toward the sink, where Lewa was standing, facing away from us, her shoulders sinking down. I could only imagine what a struggle this was for her.

“We didn’t think we could keep it a secret from your grandfather and others as well as you and Dabir have,” Dorthea resumed. “I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you, but this saves time and effort, and I don’t have the strength for histrionics or long conversations. I have a request and then I will need to rest before dinner. We’ll all be together for dinner. Lewa will fix it, but she eats with us—something we couldn’t do in Cape Town and something we can enjoy here in the vineyard. John and Zula will be here too. I told John I’d handle everything with you, so we can just be open and comfortable for the rest of your visit.”

“Of course. You and John have been so good about Dabir and me that I’ll accept and do whatever you want.”

“I hope so. But it’s asking a lot of you,” Dorthea said.

“If it’s about grandfather, I won’t say a thing and I’ll help in anyway that’s needed to keep him from knowing—just as you have with Dabir and me.”

“That’s comforting to hear, but there’s more, I’m afraid. You’ll have to give up more.”

I didn’t understand, and for a few seconds I was afraid she was asking me to give up Dabir so the situation wouldn’t be compounded. But that was nonsense. She’d never ask that of me.

“It’s the vineyard,” Dorthea said. “I’ll be here for a while, but chances are excellent I will go before John does. You’re our nephew—our only close biological relative. You have every right to expect the vineyard to come to you when John dies.” She had to stop to have a brief coughing fit, one that wracked her whole body. But it gave me time to absorb what she was asking, the reference to biological relative being all I needed to understand, and to formulate my response.

“John wants to leave the vineyard to Zula, doesn’t he?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, the expression on her face from the smile on mine appeared to lift a burden from her. “John wants to take care of Zula. He has nothing else and you have a good job. There should be money to leave to you, but Zula works the land. This vineyard wouldn’t thrive without him. It would be difficult under Apartheid for the vineyard to be left to him—especially if there are other relatives—but there’s a change in the air in South Africa. John says we can wait it out and reach a time when there is none of this forced division, when black and white don’t matter—maybe when men with men doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’ll live to see that, but I hope you and Zula . . . and your Dabir do. If we both go before Apartheid does, the farm with naturally come to you, but what we’d like, even then—”

“Yes, of course, that’s fine with me,” I said. “I have no desire to farm. Even if the changes don’t come and Zula can’t own the farm, he and I can make arrangements for it to be as if he did until he legally can. I just hope that Dabir and I can find a situation as exists here now so that we don’t have to live our love in fear. We’ll just have to try, as you said, to wait it out.”

* * * *

Waiting it out largely worked out, mainly because Dorthea held on for more than four more years. I attended her funeral at the Westpark Cemetery in Cape Town. An indication of what she’d given up to move to Beede River Valley and help cover for her husband was that she insisted to be returned to Cape Town for her final rest. My grandfather, the internal stability police division major, Pietr Adams, who died in 1984—thankfully before he saw the South African world he’d known collapse—was buried in the South African Police Services Memorial section at Westpark and had wrangled plots for his son, John, and Dorthea there. I doubted that John would wind up there, though, if he had time and inclination to make other arrangements for Zula and him. We all could just wait that one out.

The country was opening up. Apartheid was officially dead, and it was increasingly losing its grip even on the recalcitrant with each passing day.

I attended the graveside service alone. John was there, of course, and Zula was there too, but propriety was observed by his presence being able to be understood as physically supporting Lewa, who was almost beside herself in grief. All of Dorthea’s friends could readily understand and appreciate the bond, regardless of color, between Dorthea and Lewa. I thought it right that John and Zula be there, but not holding hands, to honor the sacrifice that Dorthea made for them.

As people were leaving, John called me aside. “My solicitor is here, Paul,” he said. “Could you stop by the cemetery office for just a minute and witness the signing of something?”

“Your will?” I asked. “Changing Dorthea for Zula for the beneficiary for the vineyard upon your death?”

“Yes, if you’ll sign. Legally, it will make all the difference if you have agreed to sign as a witness, thereby accepting and approving the transaction. I hope—”

“Yes, it’s still fine with me,” I said. Conditions had not improved until now, now that Dorthea was gone, for John to make the will change official. “He deserves it. And I’m neither a farmer nor will I be here.”

“So, you are still planning to move to France—and to join your teacher friend?” he asked.

“Yes, as soon as I can be ticketed, I’ll be off to join Dabir in Nice, where he has a teaching position,” I answered. I’d only stayed on when he decided he couldn’t wait for South Africa anymore and moved to France because, by then, it was obvious the end was near for Dorthea. And because of her support and understanding, although Dabir and I had given up on waiting for a change in tolerance in South Africa, I could jolly well wait out Dorthea’s passing near enough to visit her frequently.

You’ll need to read parts one and two to understand the following.

Now that you are on your back, I am going to focus on your nipples to start with.  You had told me in our previous chats that nipple play did nothing for you sexually and had a low pain threshold overall.  You will endure some pain before pleasure though.

“Don’t speak” I say as I take the nipple clamps, which have a short chain connecting them, and apply them to your nipples.  Your nipples are quite small so the bite from the clamps is fierce, and I watch as you silently mouth WTF as they are applied.

I let things settle down for a little before lifting the chain and giving it a gentle tug, watching what it does to your nipples.  They move slightly and I see from your facial expression that it is not so painful as when they were first applied.  I jiggle the chain gently and watch as your cock twitches in time to the movement of your nipple but then without warning, I tug the chain hard pulling your nipples out from your chest.  Despite the instruction, you scream “Oh fuck!  That is fucking sore!”

“What did I say about not speaking boy?”

In my head, I wonder what makes me call you ‘boy’ sometimes and ‘slut’ other times? Is it slut by default and boy when you’re naughty?

“I’m adding that to the punishment book”

I then take the chain and place it between your teeth.  It fits but there is a bit of stretch and if you move your head at all you pull your own nipples harder.

“Don’t let go boy” I instruct you.

I decide to leave you in that predicament for a moment longer and start the preparations for my assault on your ass.  I undo the ankle straps from the chains but then raise your legs up towards the top of the bed reattaching the cuffs to the same set of chains currently holding your wrists to the top corners of the bed.

You are now lying there on your back, your legs in the air and immobile with your ass fully exposed.

Next, I take a short piece of the rope, more a thin cord, find the middle, wrap it tightly around your cock and balls before tying the two ends, one to each big toe.  Any movement of your legs will now jiggle your cock.

I then move my attention back to your nipples, removing the clamps and quickly rubbing your nipples with my thumbs.  That action starts the blood circulation again but is initially very painful and you bite down on the chain still in your mouth to avoid saying anything.

It is time for some pleasure now – mine and yours – as I reach down and place my lips gently on your right nipple.  I lick it gently before moving to the other one.  I then move from licking to sucking like a baby watching the effect of my actions on your cock.  I alternate from left to right noting that your left nipple seems more sensitive than the right.

My own cock is straining in my briefs now as I take enjoyment from the suckling of your nipples.  I continue this for a few minutes grinding my groin against the bed and listening to the moans coming from you.

Tired of sucking your nipples, I want to move our play to the next level.  I remove the nipple clamp chain from your mouth and place the hood over your head, leaving you guessing as to what will come next.  In moving from the top of the bed to the bottom I reach out and give your still erect cock a quick couple of wanks.  You writhe in pleasure, and I scold myself for having done that – it was not part of the plan, but I just could not resist.

I removed my own briefs leaving me naked with you for the first time but of course, you weren’t to know being still blind with the hood.

I examine your ass again admiring the red stripes from the earlier caning and then give the butt plug a quick push to remind you it is still there.  I have practised this next action in my head over and over.  The plan was to gently pull the butt plug out, then reinsert it and repeat that a couple of times before replacing it with my own cock hoping that you might not initially notice the changeover.

Our pre-meeting discussions had included me fucking your arse so I knew you wanted it, but I wanted to understand really how much you wanted it and what your reaction would be – a straight man being fucked by a gay man.

I gently pulled the plug out watching your sphincter muscles slowly closing up, squirting some more lube and then re-inserting the plug before they fully closed. I did this three times and on the fourth time instead of inserting the plug, I used my own cock – not inserting it fully so that my groin did not touch your butt.  I left it there for a second before I started slowly fucking in and out.

It took perseverance not to start fucking full tilt, slamming my body fully against yours.  I loved the feeling of my own foreskin getting dragged back and forward across my cock head from the tightness of your anus.  By now you had realised what was happening and were moaning and writhing in pleasure – although with your legs still attached to your genitals it also introduced some mild pain too!

I start to push harder.  My body now touching yours.  I increase the fucking action until I am slamming against you, my balls making that wonderful slapping noise as they hit against your ass.  Every few thrusts I pull out completely and slam back in before your hole muscles close up again.

I had been waiting so long for this moment.  I’d admired your gorgeous ass from the pictures on your FetLife profile. I wanted to get my cock in that ass for so long.  It was proving difficult to keep the pace and remind myself I was the Master.  I was in control.

I could hold back no longer and thrust my final thrust, feeling my cum squirting out and then feeling the heat of the liquid as I slowly came down from my high. I did not want you to see my reaction to cumming.  I wanted you to feel fucked.  Whereas to me I felt I had just made love to my partner.

I pulled out and resisted the temptation to bury my face between your cheeks and clean up.

I had plenty more planned but had not really expected getting to this point so quickly.

What would I do now?

Were you lying there feeling full and complete or empty and frustrated?  I could not ask.  I was the Master.  I was in control.

But then things were taken out of my control.

There was a knock at the door.  “Room service!” I heard a voice outside.

I had not ordered anything – but you were not to know that.

“Two seconds” I shouted!

I quickly grabbed a dressing gown from the bathroom and went to answer the door.  I could see you struggling against your cuffs, your legs flaying around tugging on your cock.  You thought I was going to open the door and allow someone to see you there in that predicament – or worse allow them to come in!  Oh, the embarrassment.

I went to the door, opened it slightly and explained quietly to the hotel staff member that they must have the wrong room.  I had not ordered anything.

I do not think you heard.

“Well, that was embarrassing!  Good job you had your hood on. He will not recognise you.  He had a nice view of your upturned ass dribbling my cum though!”

You were raging!  Hopefully, you have calmed down now you have read this though?! 😁

I decide that the unplanned interruption had broken the flow and decided there and then to save the rest of the planned activities for our next meeting – which hopefully wouldn’t be too far in the future. I removed your hood, gave you a kiss on the lips and said “It’s time to go”.  Your facial expression showed your surprise but you said nothing.

I untied your toes and cock first, giving your, by now limp, dick a couple of quick tugs and then took off the ankle and wrist cuffs and then finally the collar around your neck. The pleasure tonight I guessed had been all mine but I knew that the humiliation and degradation you had experienced were what you had wanted.

I sat down in the chair, still in my white towelling dressing gown and told you to get dressed.

I laughed as you tried to cover up your chest holding the shirt closed as there were no buttons.  You pulled on your socks and then the suit trousers.  With no zip, it was difficult not to see your cock.  You did not see the gaping ass in the rear.  The suit jacket did help a bit though!

“I thought I would stay the night,” you said.

“No slut, not this time.  Maybe next time” I replied.

I got up gave you another kiss on the lips and ushered you out the room closing the door behind you… In my head, I thought through the embarrassing journey home.  Your wife was no doubt not expecting you home – I wondered what you would do?

---

It’s for you to decide what actually happened at our first meet. (Although you may not have long to wait as I have tasked the slut to write his version of what happened focusing on what he ‘enjoyed’ the most in order that I can dream up our next meeting!)  If you, reading this, have any suggestions I’d love to hear them!

I led Brad into an alley not far from the protagonist’s hypnosis clinic.

Fortunately, it was nighttime and there were not many people around. It would’ve been bad if someone had seen Brad who was basically naked save for that leather jockstrap.

His package’s obscene. I love it. But I shook my head. This was my reality now, and no matter how absurd it is, I had to quickly adapt.

First, I needed a plan.

I can’t go to any law enforcement people because, in this reality, law enforcement is probably controlled by those cringe-y hypnotists. Brad basically confirmed this earlier too.

I saw the hunky man beside me sweaty and out of breath. He was totally and literally, a wet dream made manifest.

“Are you… okay… Brad?” I asked in between breaths.

The sweaty hunk turned to me before nodding, “Thanks… man…” He flashed me another smile, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.

Allies, I reminded myself, I needed allies, not a hunky piece of eye candy that-

I heard footsteps coming closer to us. Running? Yes. It was much too fast to be considered walking. 

“Shh!” I placed my index finger by my lips and pulled him behind some wooden crates.

Not a second more, I saw those same hunks running in another direction.

Impulsively, my arms looped over to Brad’s thick arms. I sometimes do this to my friends whenever I get anxious.

“Are they gone?” Brad whispered.

Untangling from him, I dared to peak and saw the retreating backs of those muscular studs. “I think so…”

A second. Two.

Haa-

The relief I felt was immense. But I did not want to be complacent. I needed to figure out what to do.

“I guess this is it-“

“Uh,” Brad looked upset.

As to why, well…

---

“Here, you go, sir,” I said, handing out a pair of shorts, an oversized white T-shirt, and some flip-flops.

Brad’s eyes brightened at my return.

I’d ordered him to stay put and hidden just in case those men would be back as I ran to a nearby clothing kiosk that sold cheap knockoffs.

“Thank you!” He said as I plopped his footwear on the ground.

With great ceremony, he did this thing with his shirt that made wearing it stupidly erotic. Like his abs flexed and his lats flared when putting on his shirt. The shirt, by the way, looked like it was a bit on the small size on him too. It’s honestly kinda awesome.

“You good now, sir?” I asked, looking around.

He nodded, “thank you.”

I know that I can’t just leave him here but I have to ask him first, “so… What’re you planning to do next?”

“Return home?” He said, unsure.

I nodded. I had to inform him though, “I hope that your address hasn’t been… you know… compromised.”

“What do you mean?”

I wasn’t mean enough to think that he didn’t know what compromise meant – though seeing as I somehow ended up in this trashy erotica story, there is a small chance that he didn’t because dumb himbos were the author’s top fetishes – so I went with, “If I were a sociopathic hypnotist stalker, I’d for sure know where my victims lived. And since we’re on the run, he’d most likely place people on the lookout in case you return home.”

“Well, damn.” He nodded, looking at me like I said something profound. “You’re so smart, Tony.”

“Common sense,” I told him. “We make logical assumptions based on what little evidence that we have.” I smiled at him, “but thanks. I guess.”

“So what do you suppose we do now?” Brad asked.

A plan is what we need. But I don’t have enough information to make a sound plan.

I brought out my phone from my pocket. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

I placed my index finger over my mouth and dialed customer service. Five minutes later, with a new phone number, I factory reset my phone. “There’s a high chance we might be monitored on our phones so-aha!” I then began to re-download my bank’s app. There are hacker hypnotists too. And while the protagonist of ‘Himbo Conversion Therapy Fuck’ doesn’t do app hypnosis, I couldn’t take any chances here.

---

I smiled at the hotel staff at the front desk as she handed out our keycard.

“Enjoy your stay!” I am happy females existed in this universe because some other stories had female erasures in them. Though the author often used females as plot devises or pimps or pimp plot devices or sometimes as bait even, I do like living in a world that was similar to my previous one – even though there were superheroes and magical beings and aliens here.

I turned to Brad who was looking at one of the TVs in the lobby. Strange… The Brad from the story was characterized as an insufferable womanizing flirt.

In any case, I tapped him on his big arm and pointed at the elevator.

He gave me an okay signal before following right behind me.

“So, the receptionist was very pretty, don’t you think?” How do straight people do this? I sounded off.

Brad was right beside me so I could see his facial expression. “Hm? Oh, yeah. She’s pretty hot.”

Pressing the floor of our room, I let out a sigh of relief. That sounds like Brad from the story. Can’t have him going into a trance because of some hotel hypnotist.

“Erm…” Brad sounded like he wanted to say something.

“Yeah?”

“Well, thank you… For everything, I mean.”

I shrugged, “we’re not out of the woods yet. Thank me later once we get rid of that pervy old guy off of our backs.”

“I guess. But you’re already spending too much on us. I… I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

He can be sweet. “Okay, but not right now.”

The elevator ding and opened. “C’mon.”

---

As Brad showered in the bathroom, I sat on the bed, writing on a piece of paper.

I had to write down as much information as I could about this world. Things like other stories made by the author, any world-building lore, characters, settings, and plot points. If anything, the author was so great in writing his universe that a fan discord discussing his timeline and lore was flourishing by the time his 4th series was underway.

I could ask the crime syndicate of the city for protection? It’s one of the stories the author wrote that had no hypnosis element to it. Unless the ending’s already happened – the story ends with a double suicide of the two main characters.

I searched the internet for information about the heirs of two rival dons… And they’re still abroad. Okay, cool, the plot hasn’t started yet. But since I don’t know how to get in touch without the heirs, I guess that will be one of our backup plans.

Well, what about seeking the aid of superheroes? Except superheroes are notorious in hypnotism stories in that they always end in their downfall – it’s an entire subgenre of the hypnotism tag. Besides, the current superhero in charge of the city is a victim of an even more unhinged sociopath that is this caricature of a supervillain. No, no.

Aliens? No, definitely not. Those who are already here are part of a race with have a hive mind and plans to eradicate all life in the galaxy – the author wrote it in a sexy way, where people are subjugated and turned into semen production units. It doesn’t sound appealing, besides, tentacle porn isn’t for me.

The magical side then? Well… I don’t see why not. The author wrote about vampires, werewolves, demons… If it’s a popular supernatural monster, there’s an equivalent story written by the author.

Okay then. Supernatural it is. Vampires are a no. So does werewolf. I would prefer to not be dependent on sucking blood and not transform painfully every full moon.

Demons it is then.

How do I summon demons? Let’s see here.

The current head honcho of the underworld answers to the vice of Lust. Tantric rituals can be a gateway to summon one.

Oh yeah, I forgot that the author didn’t do a great deal of research about this. It’s mostly a mishmash of tropes and cliches. Like a few readers had criticized him for equating sexual acts with tantric rituals. There was obviously more nuance to that.

Anyway, that’s the current lore here so it didn’t hurt to try-

I suddenly felt the entire room turn cold. There were vibrations in the air too, like static was everywhere.

“And here I thought someone interesting wanted to summon me.”

I blinked and then someone. No, this being was too ethereal to be considered a human. He looked human but the way his skin glimmered, the way his body-

“Lust,” I whispered. I didn’t think the head of demonkind would personally show up.

“In the flesh! Though not really. I’m here but not really here, you get what I mean?”

“I can see that.”

“So,” his smile was too beautiful, “what can I help you with?”

“Can you get me back to my original world?” I asked him.

That’s when I felt his gaze on me intensified. “Oh my, you’re a-” 

“Can you?”

He shook his head. “I might be all-powerful but that is something that’s even higher than above my pay grade.”

“Oh,” I deflated. He couldn’t be lying because lore-wise demons can’t lie.

He sat up and stretched his body, “it can’t be all that bad here. I mean, you can think of it as your second chance in life. To relive your life the way you want it to.”

I don’t know what to feel when one of the most powerful beings in this universe told me that he can’t teleport me home.

I shook my head – no use crying over split milk. Besides, he was right – I wasn’t in debt here, my bank account here is much better than the one in my old life, and sure, there is a possibility that I might get enslaved by a random hypnotist/demon/alien but it beats living my life from before. But for me to live in this life, I need to secure my protection and safety first.

“Can you give me immunity from hypnosis?” I asked him. Doc’s hypnosis doesn’t count because realistically, it wasn’t even true hypnosis.

He tilted his head, “why would you ask for something you’re already immune to.”

That caught my attention, “I am immune from hypnosis? True hypnosis?”

“Amazing, right? And it wasn’t even something I’d blessed you with. I don’t suppose you’re in cahoots with those stuck-up bitches above?”

The angels? I shook my head, “No! At least I think I am not.” A pause, “Actually, can you check?”

He ran a glowing hand over me before shaking his head no. “I don’t think so but…” He stopped by my chest, “someone has definitely given you their blessing.”

“Can you check what blessing it is?”

“Just that you’re never going to succumb to someone’s hypnosis. Which is just sad because hypnosis can be fun.”

“The same way enthusiastic consent is fun, I suppose?” I said sarcastically.

I exhaled, “I’m sorry, I’m being mean.”

He laughed, “let’s make it simple then, what is the reason why you called for me?”

“Honestly? Originally wanted to ask if I could return home but since that is out of the question, I wanted to ask if you could give me the power to protect myself.”

He nodded, “I see, I see.” He floated into the air (won’t and so cool), still lazing about, “We’ll, I can definitely give you that but are you willing to do so in exchange for your humanity?”

“For as long as I don’t turn immortal or something, like changing my appearance so much I can no longer go outside, I’m good.”

“Are you good with exchanging something to get that power?”

“I, uh… No?”

He grimaced. “Unless you want Fate to fuck you up, then I’m good with not asking anything from you-“

“No!” Karma, or to be lore-accurate karmic destiny, was a very real and tangible thing here. I… I thought of a good solution. “How about my body hair?” I pointed to right below my nose downwards, “All the hair from here downwards.”

The demon before me made a hmm sound.

So he needs convincing. “I am not just saying the hair right now in my body but my body’s potential to grow hair. It’s my body hair for my entire lifespan!”

“Interesting.” He then snapped his fingers, “okay, call. Let’s do that. What kind of powers do you specifically want?”

“Well, I already have immunity from hypnosis. So I guess the next step would be having the power to let me and anyone else I want to escape any confinement or imprisonment.”

I might get caught in the future because there are a lot of powerful ‘protagonists’ in this world, so the ability to break free is a good one to have.

“In exchange for your body hair and your body’s potential to grow hair… It’s not too much of a request.”

He snapped his fingers. “And done!”

“That’s it?” And then I felt it- my body hair rescinding. The small arm hairs I had simply melted away. I felt the inside of my pants and ran my hand over my pubes. They were gone and smooth as a baby.

He nodded. “But turns out your body’s capacity to grow hair isn’t enough for that request. I’m gonna need you to swear allegiance to me to make that permanent.”

“You’re being awfully helpful to me,” I told him.

He laughed. “Well, you are a pretty interesting human. And a bottom too and you don’t see that much in my line of work – it’s mostly pick me tops who refuse to see themselves as the problem.”

Oh yeah, Lust loved toying with guys like that.

“And me, will you be fucking me up too?”

He laughed, “oh stop it, will you? That’s foreplay for us demonkind.” His smile was genuine, “Besides I reckon the stud showering would do that for me already.”

I blushed. “Brad and I are-“

“The cutest! So, are you in or not?”

There was no hesitation from me. “Okay, I swear allegiance to the great Evil One. The divine tempter: Mara.”

His look of surprise felt satisfying. “Invoking my real name. Ha! Haha!” Then he was laughing in pure glee this time. “You might as well be the most interesting contractee I’ve ever had. Very well then – in the interest of keeping me entertained, let me give you another gift.” He snapped his fingers again. “With this, go forth, my minion. Live the life you so desire. Free from the contains of others. Your life is now yours to command. Live it however you want it to!”

And then his laughter reverberated in the room before echoing inside my head.

Then the bathroom door opened. “Ah, that was too refreshing.” Brad no longer hand that f slur on his chest. Though the skin, in that area was red, probably from trying to scrub it clean.

His dark hair was droopy and his nipples were plump and juicy. He was too hot. I hate it. Because he looked… Urghhh…

“What’re you up to?” He asked, adjusting the towel on his waist. Dear God that v line is too good.

“Nothing,” I folded the piece of paper, “Just planning out what we should do next.”

“Alright, cool. I do want to talk about our sleeping arrangement.”

I nodded. With my money, I was only able to get a room with one bed.

“I think we should share the bed/I should sleep on the floor.”

I shook my head. “No, you’re sleeping beside me. It’s spacious enough for two.”

I scooted on the side to prove my point, “see? Enough space for you here.” I stood up and announced I was taking a shower.

“Okay master.”

I looked at him oddly before shaking my head and heading straight for the bathroom.

---

A/N: lots of exposition here. It’s only to set up the next few chapters.

The next morning, after Matt left, I was thinking about James. I decided I would call or text him. I grabbed my phone and to my surprise I had a text from James. “Good morning. I know you are busy this weekend, but I would love to see you again soon. Text me.” Because of my sex date with Matt on the scheduled I had told James I would be busy this weekend.

I decided to call James so I could hear his sexy voice. We chatted for a while and then made plans for Sunday brunch. What could be a better gay date than Sunday brunch? So, our third date was arranged. I couldn’t help wondering if we would honor the “third date rule” and have sex.

Brunch was at Club Café, which is a well-known gay bar and restaurant in town. The atmosphere, food and company were all great. When our meal was coming to an end, James reached across the table and took hold of my hand. It was a small, simple gesture but I was really moved by it. I felt comfortable and relaxed. Could I be falling for this man?

After brunch we walked the neighborhood and continued to talk. By coincidence or design we ended up on James’ street. “Hey, my place is right across the street. I would love to show it to you.”

His condo was on the top floor of a 19th century brownstone.  It was small but had lots of charming details and it was beautifully decorated. James had great taste. He made us coffee and we sat on the sofa to continue our date.

We chatted and casually held each other’s hand. There was a lot of staring into each other’s eyes and the conversation slowed down. I wanted to make a move but wasn’t sure how. I thought he would be open to it but I held back. Then I said, “What are you thinking?”

There was a slight pause then James said with a sly smile, “I was thinking, how can I get you into my bed.”

“Well”, I said, “I’ve always found the direct approach to work best.”

“Fair enough. Chris, would you like to come into my bedroom with me?”

“James, I would like that very much.”

We stood up and holding my hand he led me into his bedroom. We both kicked off our shoes and started helping each other undress. I unbuttoned his shirt and he unbuckled my belt.

I absolutely love it when you get to see a man naked for the very first time. Checking out all his assets and what he keeps private from most of the world. His legs, chest, ass and cock are right there for me to discover. It was still only 2 in the afternoon so there was plenty of natural light to get a good look. As I thought, his chest was moderately hairy, as were his arms and legs. His ass was firm and kind of beefy. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on it.

He was wearing white cotton briefs. They were not unsimilar to what Matt would wear. What was it about me that was attracted to guys who wear white cotton briefs? Is that my type?

When James dropped his pants I was caught by surprise. On his upper thigh, just below the leg hole of his briefs, was a tattoo. James didn’t seem like the type that would have a tattoo, but there it was. A small, red cartoon devil just inches from his crotch. It was as if it was standing guard, protecting his cock and balls. Although I was surprised, I found the tattoo sexy as hell.

“What is this, a tattoo?”

James seemed a little embarrassed. “Oh, that’s the result of a drunken college night. I’ve had it so long; I never really think about it anymore.”

“Did it hurt when you got it?”

“Hurt like hell. I regretted it as soon as I got it.”

“Well I kind of like it. It’s sexy.” I kneeled down in front of him and put my hand on his tattoo. My hand was so close to this crotch, I could feel the heat generating from his balls. His cock was definitely growing in his briefs and I had an eye-level view of it. I rubbed the devil tattoo a few times then with two hands pulled his briefs down to the floor.

That’s when I got my second surprise of the day. Once free from its constraints James’ cock continued to grow, and grow. When fully erect his cock was a bit over 8” and extremely thick. His cut cock also had a nice mushroom head. I’m not a size queen and I’ve seen plenty of cocks in my day, but what James was sporting was a real beauty. He was a good two inches bigger than me. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on that prized cock.

While I love seeing a man naked for the first time, it is ever better when two naked men embrace for the first time. Cocks pressed against each other. There is something magical about it. When James and I embraced, naked, it was like fireworks went off. We were kissing passionately when we fell on his bed and started love making.

I knew I would love sucking James’ cock. It was just so much fun. My hand barely reached around the base. I spent so much time sucking on his mushroom head and licking his long shaft. With my left hand wrapped around his cock, my right hand instinctively moved to his ass. After about 15 minutes of sucking pleasure, James pulled me up off his cock so we could kiss some more. We kissed and rolled around on his bed. I was on top on James, then he was on top of me. Eventually we found ourselves in a 69 position and I returned to sucking his huge cock. James skillfully deep-throated my six-inch cock. There is nothing quite like the feeling of sucking on a nice cock while someone is sucking yours. Being in the 69 position gave me better access to explore James’ ass. My hands roamed and explored his gorgeous ass while my mouth worshipped his large cock.

It wasn’t much longer before we both exploded in each other’s mouth. His cum tasted great. He also swallowed my load. James had his arm wrapped around me with my head on his shoulder as we recovered from our love making. Neither of us were in any rush to get up and leave his bed. We were both in ecstasy. I was very present in the moment. My focus was only on the two of us. I wasn’t thinking about work, my house or even Matt. I was in the only place I wanted to be.

We stayed in bed until the sun started going down. Reluctantly getting out of bed I took a shower while James made us a quick pasta dinner. We were both famished from our hours of love making.

I wanted to stay but needed to be at work early the next day so I left after dinner. We kissed goodbye and both said what a great time we had. As I was going out the door, James stopped me. “Chris, can you come over for dinner tomorrow? I am taking a cooking class and we are making garlic butter baked salmon. The class get out at 7:15. I’ll be back here by 7:30. I can’t eat all that food myself. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

“Of course, that sounds great. I’ll bring the wine.” I went back inside and gave him another kiss goodbye.

On the drive home, I thought about my weekend. What is wrong with me? Never have I ever had sex with two different guys in one weekend. I sucked and fucked Matt on Friday night and sucked James on Sunday afternoon. Am I a slut? This can’t continue. On the one hand, I am single and I’m not committed to either man. On the other hand, I don’t want two men and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I must figure this out.

The next night I was back at James’ condo eating a fabulous meal. He has been taking classes at the Learning Annex for a while and has really become a great chef. He said he never cooked when he was married and had always wanted to learn. Well, he succeeded.

After dinner, James said, “Chris, we’ve only known each other for a short time but I like you and I like spending time with you. I hope this can continue.”

“Thanks James, I feel the same way. Things have been going great. I want this to continue too. However, there is something I need to tell you. I feel I need to be honest with you.”

“Okay, of course. You can tell me anything.”

“Well, the thing is, I’ve also been seeing someone else. It’s more of a casual thing. I’ve know this guy for a very long time but we’ve only been seeing each other for the past several months. It’s complicated and I will tell you all the details if you want to know.”

I couldn’t read James’ expression. His face was kind of blank. Was he upset or mad? I don’t know.

James finally spoke, “Well, you’re single and free to date whoever you like. We’re not exclusive and I have no claim on you. As long as we’re all safe, I can’t tell you who to be with. If things change in the future, then I might have an opinion. I certainly don’t want to hear any details. That’s your business.” Then he added, “I just hope we will continue to see each other.”

That’s just what I wanted and needed to hear. I got up off my chair, walked over to James and kissed him on the lips. “I hope we will continue to see each other too. Thank you for being so understanding.

We didn’t sleep together that night. On the drive home I thought about the choice I had to make and the two men in my life. One was my seven year obsession who through some weird twist I get to sleep with once a month. The other guy was a decent, upstanding guy who seems to like me and is not already committed to a family. I know what my head says but my heart was feeling something different.

My next date with Matt was three weeks away. I would have to come to some conclusion before then. Is there any way I can keep both men in my life without it becoming a complete disaster? I don’t know.

I got together with James the following weekend. We went for a 5 mile hike. It was a beautiful late winter day. The weather was clear and bright with the temperature in the high 50’s. James was a better hiker than I was but I managed to keep up. He wore shorts and I spent all afternoon staring at his sexy legs and well defined calf muscles. On the ride home we stopped by a local market, got food for dinner and heading back to his place.

Dinner had to wait. As soon as we got back to his condo we were all over each other. We left a trail of clothes from the front door to his bedroom. By the time we landing on his bed we were only wearing our underwear. I could feel his large 8” cock protruding, waiting to be pleasured. I couldn’t wait to get my hands, and mouth on that monster. Yanking down his briefs I tossed them aside. Grabbing the base of his cock, I slowly sucked its mushroom head. It was amazing how thick and hard it was. I only wanted to give him pleasure. As I was sucking him I began to think about what it would feel like to have this cock in my ass. What would it be like to be fucked by James? I haven’t had a cock this big or thick in a long time. Would I be able to handle it? I don’t know, but I was so turned on I was more than willing to find out.

While I was sucking James, he was working on getting my underwear off. They were down around my ankles and he was starting to play with my ass. At this point I couldn’t be more turned on. Thinking the direct approach is always best I said, “Would you like to fuck me.”

“I would love to fuck you.” James got up and retrieved a condom and some lube. I laid on my stomach with my legs apart waiting for the pleasure and the pain that was about to come.

Before applying the lube, James spent some time rimming my hole. For me that always feels so amazing. There is no better way to prepare for receiving a cock then to get a good rim job first. After a few minutes James mouth was replaced with his fingers and a good amount of lube. He made sure I was nice and open before putting the condom on his cock and getting into position. I took a deep breath when I felt his big mushroom head at the entrance of my hole.

I admit it did hurt and it hurt a lot when James started entering me. Once he got passed my ring my body relaxed, pleasure replaced the pain. It wasn’t long before he was all the way inside me and I could feel his heavy balls slap against my ass.

While his cock slowly entered and exited my hole, his hands roamed my entire body. He felt my thighs, my arms, my chest, my cock. He explored as much of my body as he could reach while his cock explored the inside of me. I was feeling very connected and safe with James suddenly I could feel him explode inside of me and fill the condom with his cum. He bucked and groaned several times before he finally finished and collapsed on my back. He slowly pulled his cock from my ass and for a short time I missed the feeling of him inside of me.

Once his cock was out of me, he flipped me over onto my back and started to suck on my fully erect cock. Being so turned on by James’ mouth on my cock and just getting fucked royally, it didn’t take long for me to erupt in his mouth. James was very receptive of my cum and swallowed every drop.

“Please stay the night with me. I would love to wake up with you in my bed. I’m seeing my kids tomorrow but not until 2:00. We can spend the morning together.”

I agreed to stay. We got up, showered and made dinner together.

The next morning while I was making us pancakes for breakfast, James mentioned, “Chris, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I know it’s late notice but my school’s annual fundraiser is in two weeks, on Friday. There’s a dinner and silent auction as well as a talent showcase featuring the students. In fact, my daughter Sarah is singing. Would you like to go with me?”

“That sounds like fun.” I lied. Of course, I want to spend time with James but am I ready to meet his co-workers and especially his kids.

“So, your kids are going to be there.”

“Yes, and so will my ex-wife and her husband. I know it’s a big step so if you are at all uncomfortable please, you don’t need to come. I almost didn’t invite you. We’ve only know each other for a little over a month but I wanted you to come and I took a chance. By the way, Beth and her husband are going and will be at our table. At least you’ll know them.”

“Can I give you my answer tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. The tickets are already purchased. Just let me know.”

The next day at work, I talked to Beth about the whole situation. Beth had been great about not asking me about how things were going with her brother. She was thrilled when I told her that everything was going great. I mentioned the school fundraiser and she said how much fun it is and she hoped I would consider going. She also assured me that James’ ex-wife and kids would be fine. They had met boyfriends in the past and there would be no issue. Then she said something that stopped me in my tracks.

“What about your once a month “friend”? Is he still in the picture?”

Oh shit! I completely forgot about Matt. That Friday was our next scheduled date. How could that slip my mind? It was decision time. Do I stick with Matt who I am limited to seeing only once a month and have no future with or do I take a chance with James who I have only known for a month and don’t know if there is a future?

Maybe it’s time to give up my obsession and try reality for a change.

I texted Matt and asked if I could see he right away. I know it’s breaking our rules but something came up and it’s really important.

We agreed to meet for coffee the next day. I was already there when he walked in looking as handsome and sexy as usual. When he approached me, he reached out to shake my hand. I thought shaking hands was a little odd considering all we’d be through the past seven or eight months. I’ve had your cock in my mouth and my dick up your ass and we are shaking hands.

“What’s up Chris?”

“I have something to tell you. I’ve met someone. His name is James and he is really special. We’ve been dating for the past month or so. I really like him and I would like to see where this might go. I think we might have a future together.”

Matt could obviously see how nervous I was, and my voice was shaking.

He quickly jumped in. “Chris, it’s fine. I always knew that someday you would meet someone. I said from the beginning that whenever you wanted to end our arrangement we would. You are a great guy and I only want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

“You have giving me such a gift and have taught me so much about myself. I will always be grateful to you for that. This is something to be happy about, not sad”.

Matt saying what he did calmed me down a lot. We chatted a little longer and when it was time to leave Matt surprised me. We both stood up, then Matt came over to me and gave me a big hug. I was a little taken back by him hugging me in public but I really appreciated the gesture and how far Matt has come in the past several months. “I wish you all the luck in the world. James is a very lucky man. I truly hope everything works out for the two of you.”

With that, Matt was gone. I sat down again to think about all that had happened with Matt and what my feeling were. Of course, I was sad that my time with Matt had come to an end but surprisingly not that sad. I was thinking more about the possibility of what will be with James. At that moment, Matt was my past and James was my future, or possible future. I started thinking about meeting his kids and his ex-wife and co-workers. I had no time to think about Matt.

I phoned James right away. He was teaching a class so I left him a message. “James, this is Chris. I would love to go with you to your school fundraiser. I am looking forward to it and looking forward to meeting you kids as well. I’ll call you tonight”.

The fundraiser was a big success. Beth was right, there was no issues meeting his kids and ex-wife. I didn’t spend much time with them that night but there will be plenty of time to get to know them better in the future. Sarah sang beautifully and I was almost as proud of her as James obviously was.

Things have been going great with James. We spent almost all our spare time together. He never asked me about the other guy I was seeing but since we spent every weekend together there was no need. When we did have the “exclusive” conversation a few months later we agreed to not see other people.

It’s now been about a year since James and I started dated. We celebrated our first anniversary with a weekend get-a-way and have even began talking about moving in together. We are very much in love.

Interestingly, I ran into Nicole around this same time. We talked for a long time and I told her all about James. She seemed genuinely happy for me. I appreciated that. She had some news about Matt to share as well. It turns out that he is in a new situation just like we had. Their son’s soccer coach is married and also bisexual. Matt and the coach get together and have sex once a month. Nicole helped facilitate the situation. If it works for them, then I’m happy for them.

Sometimes fantasies do come true, but it turns out that reality is always better.

The end.

Stetson, Ariat, Lucchese, Justin, Old Gringo, Frye, Dan Post, Strathcona. You’ve probably recognized a few of these cowboy boots brands. Ted and Jed are two urban cowboys who take pride in wearing quality boots. They have a preference for heels traditionally made of stacked leather, high shaft, no lacing, and pointed toe. Most of the times, their boots enhance crotch and ass in tight faded blue jeans. They have tried half a dozen brands of jeans, from Levi Strauss who invented this work garment to Lee, Wrangler, Calvin Klein, Tommy Hilfiger and Armani.

Though cowboy boots can be made from exotic skins like alligator, snake, ostrich, lizard, eel, elephant, elk, and buffalo, Ted and Jed only buy boots made from cowhide leather, with little or no hand tool decorations; they prefer the rough rugged look. It is more masculine… and they want virile fun when wearing them.

Ted and Jed are both 31-years-old, on the slim side, muscular built and mildly hairy. Ted has a 10-inch-and-a-half cut dick while Jed sports a thicker but shorter uncut rod. They are both fans of Wrangler jeans which they have washed a hundred times and dried up in the sun to get that sexy faded blue look. They live together, are both versatile, and have sexual contacts just about every day. Right now, they are wearing a tight t-shirt outlining their yummy nipples, tight faded blue jeans enhancing their bulging crotch, and similar boots with brown wing inlays on the shaft, and a laser wingtip. Both are lying on the living-room black leather sofa, legs open, each at one end.

Without a word being spoken, a leg stretches out to reach a swollen dick tightly packaged and the boot exerts a welcomed pressure, triggering moans of pleasure. A camera is placed to take snapshots of the best moves. Ted and Jed unzip to let their hard cock in the open. They position both boots to have their partner’s dick squeezed like in a vise or noose. “This is great cowboy choreography”, says Jed. “Leather friction feels so fuckingly exciting”, replies Ted. On that note, they both explode ropes of wild-West cowboy nectar.

Jed selects a pic that he can post on Facebook, no nudity of course. The photo chosen is a hymn to tight faded blue jeans. It highlights both guys’ bulges; you see their leather belt and metal buckle, the steel cap of Jed’s boot, and the chain under the heel of Ted’s boot. Just three days after the Facebook post, there are over 800 Like or Love. The two cowboys have fun reading the comments. Many are thankful: “Love both booted bulges. I enjoy that game and like that challenge. Wow, what an amazing picture! Real hot guys, I like what I see. DAMN!! I Want all of them!!! Now that is hot, wish I was there. Super-hot mmmmm my kind of fun! Cool, small hills in the jeans, sexy.”

One or two have a cultural reference: “Apparently, boots were made for more than walking. Look at all the broke back mountain admirers.” The more exciting remarks are obviously the ones with sexual innuendos: “Nasty boys having fun! Boots look great but your crotches are amazing! So sexy, wish I was part of it. That looks so inviting, yummy! Best pic I’ve seen on this page, thanks for sharing such an energizing snap shot of virile fun. Wow, I want to suck so much. These jeans bulges are exploding soon. Yes master anything you want to do to me anytime you want to and I would love to be your pig slave.”

There is even a comment in French : « C’est la chose la plus riche et la plus savoureuse que j’aie jamais vue. Des hommes en jeans moulants qui se font marquer leur paquet est ce qui m’excite le plus. » (This is the richest and most succulent thing I’ve ever seen. Guys in tight jeans having their crotch stamped excites me at the utmost.)

Ted likes to wear his tight jeans, and feel Jed’s boot fooling around with his butt. When the spurs are on, and roll on his denim ass seam, he feels so excited; it doubles the virile fun. Man-to-man pleasure takes on a new meaning, echoing some wild West adventure. Ted and Jed imagine they are Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist, hired to herd sheep through the Summer on the grazing pastures of Brokeback Mountain in the early 1960s.

Our two cowboys sometimes visit Gerry, a friend who lives in the country and who has a barn where they can play in the hay stack. Ted and Jed also get to ride a horse in their cowboy attire. This time, they are wearing chaps, but not the ordinary leather ones. They have cut out the ass and crotch parts of an old pair of jeans to convert them in denim chaps. Bare ass and hard dick stand out so much. It is so damn sexy, that Gerry loses no time in sucking two juicy dicks, and fucking two city boys hard and deep, under the watchful eye of Colt, a black stallion.

After bareback fun, all three friends dress up to go horseback riding, in jeans and leather chaps this time. When they come back to the stable, Ted, notices a straitjacket structure made for a horse. Colt is tied into that solid frame, while Ted gets naked, except for his knee-high Strathcona brown boots with spurs. They have been made by the Alberta Boot Company for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police since 1999. Ted positions himself on a step to have his 10-inch-and-half bazooka ready to penetrate the largest ass he has ever fucked. The pounding is so intense, so wild, so raw, that both Ted and Colt explode loads of male juice at the same time*. Jed, obviously, films the scene for posterity.

The next weekend, the two cowboys have milder fun, nonetheless hot and virile. They dress-up in jockstrap and boots. Ted loves to feel the metal tip of Jed’s boot in his ass hole. But this time Ted cheats in wearing shiny hip boots. Ted likes to say: the longer the boots, the longer the hard one! Jed loves to lick leather or rubber while being finger-fucked. The two best friends always end up in eating each other’s ass. They say that a cowboy’s rosebud has a horsy taste. It is fuckin yummy for sure!  

---

* In fiction, your imagination is free to create scenarios without rules or borders.

I may hire this boy again. I found him, or should I say he found me, at the airport. I don’t know if he has the best gaydar on the planet, or he saw me checking him out, or he was desperate enough to just try and see if I was game.

Oh, I was more than game. I took him with me to my hotel and used his fake name to list him as my roommate. I sent him to take a shower while I unpacked my things for the week I was going to be in town. When he walked out with his dark hair dripping wet, as he dried the rest of his body, I walked over him to taste the goods that I would be paying for.

Nothing disappointed me. He sounded sexy when he moaned. He presses his body into mine that was already naked but for the towel, I had wrapped around my waist. The kiss itself showed experience and tenderness at the same time.

I pulled out of the kiss to whisper in his ear about a few things I left for him on the bed. I glided my hand across his ass as he moved to see them for himself before I made my way to the bathroom for my own shower.

15 minutes later

I took a small moment to appreciate the sight that was being played out in front of me before I walked back into the main room of my suite. The lube and the dildo he was using as I hoped, but the underwear was a surprise. I thought this act was only something done in bad porn. But if it worked for him, it worked for him. My eyes left his face where here was inhaling what he could from the briefs I left for him to wear. I moved past his clean shaven jawline and straining neck that reflected his determined actions. I looked down past his abs to see his cock stretched and smooth as he continued to push that dildo in and out of his pussy ass.

I saw that he was having a little trouble getting it all the way in, so I walked over to help him out. I replaced his hand with mine and rubbed his chest as he now laid there and enjoyed himself.

“How old are you?” I asked him.

“Twenty-Four,” he said with a moan and his eyes closed.

“When was the first time you shoved something up your ass?” was my next question.

“I was twelve,” he said and his answer was followed by a shudder that I saw travel the length of his body.

“What was it?” I asked next as I tried to picture him at 12 sitting in his room with a toothbrush holder in his hand. I realized that I was imprinting my past onto his, but it didn’t stop my cock from pushing against my towel.

“A carrot,” he confessed. I felt myself pause as the answer came out of nowhere to me, but once I quickly pushed back in, he was none the wiser.

“Why?” I asked as I tried to understand.

“Mom didn’t have any cucumbers,” he said as his breathing picked up.

“Who told you to use a cucumber?” I pressed as I slowed down so he wouldn’t come just yet.

“The girl in the video used one and looked like she liked it,” he replied before licking his lips. I bent down and kissed his mouth as my hand almost came to a dead stop.

“Tell me,” I commanded him.

“I was watching a movie with a friend when we had a sleepover at my house. We thought it was one thing and it turned out to be a porno. So, of course, we watched it,” he then laughed as he looked up at me. Fuck he looked cute. I bent down for his lips again. He moaned into my mouth before he started to nibble at my lips.

I started to fuck him with the dildo again and his body just relaxed under me. I rubbed my other hand up and around his chest. I could almost feel the trust radiating from his body.

“Did you like it?” I asked once his breathing had picked up again.

“Liked what?” he asked as I heard it in his voice. He was slipping into the pleasure of the prostate massage that I was giving him.

“When you fucked yourself with a carrot,” I said close to his ear before sucking on his neck. He squirmed under me when I did that.

“I didn’t like it, but then I thought I did it wrong,” he gasped for a breath as he started to fuck back against my hand and the dildo.

“When did it get good for you?” I asked as I looked for a memory to help him get off. My own cock was aching to be buried in him.

“My first boyfriend C-carl,” he said with a catch in his voice. I was getting him close. I moved my hand a little faster.

“What did Carl do to you?” I inquired full of curiosity.

“He had real sex toys and he showed me how to use them when I asked,” he started to shake.

“Did you like using them on yourself, or did you like it when he used them on you?” I asked as my hand moved a bit more.

“I didn’t mind doing it when I was by myself, and when we were together I rather he fucked me, but I liked when he used them on me when we were outside,” he confessed. I felt as his balls started to pull away from my hand and up close to the base of his dick.

“You wanted to be caught?” I asked as I started to think of what I could do with him in such situations.

“No. Aahhh. It was from trying not to get caught that got us off, off,” he stuttered.

“Did he stand in front of you so no one saw that he had his hand down the back of your pants?” I asked as I started to really hammer the dildo into his hole. “Did you press your face into his chest to muffle your moans?” I realized that I was starting to get carried away. But I felt too good to stop.

“Did you pad your underwear so your cum wouldn’t leak through your pants?” I asked as I made him feel every thrust.

“Yes,” he answered loudly.

“You rubbed your crotch into his thighs didn’t you?” I asked a little louder.

“Yes,” he said louder still.

“He pumped that dildo up your ass as you clung to his shirt, didn’t he?” I grilled him.

“Yes!” he shouted as he started to arch up off the bed.

“Your boyfriend fucked you in public and you liked it so much that you came in your underwear again and again,” I told him.

“YESsss! FUCK!” he swore as he came. I was watching his face the entire time. I watched as painful pleasure broke out across his face before he slowly settled into bliss then heavy breathing as he recovered. That was when I was able to pull the dildo and a few of my fingers free. He may be a pro, but he managed to keep his ass ring as tight as any I’ve fucked before.

“Now it’s my turn,” I told him as I pulled off my towel and lifted his legs.

Recently I received a call from the high end hotel, I’d worked at for a couple of years. Asking if I’d consider coming back part time.

I’d left because I couldn’t work under the hotel manager of the time. He was condescending and stole from our tips. A few return customers let slip how much of a tip they’d left me. I received quite a bit less. The manager claimed my customers were mistaken. One, yes, two improbable, three?

Seems I wasn’t the only one tired of his attitude. Or his theft. A substantial number of employees took other jobs, some with competing hotels. I was surprised when I heard who left. They were very good at their jobs. Many had been with the hotel for years.

I said I would not come back as long as that particular manager was still employed there. Apparently, the owners had gotten the same message as good employees left. I was quite pleased to hear he’d been sacked. Apparently, the mass defection had forced the owners to look into the allegations against him. Now they were trying to sweep the whole sordid thing under the rug.

The reason they wanted me back, appeared to be because several return customers had requested me as their concierge and were disgruntled to know I’d left.

Yeah! I was that good! I’d almost moved mountains occasionally to serve a customer. Because of this any gratuities were generally pretty good.

Now, due to loss of competent staff, they were scrambling. They had to train a whole new staff. Until they trained them they needed the help of those of us who were already trained. The hotel’s high rating had already dropped significantly.

I wanted to tell them where to stick it. They should have looked into our complaints sooner. But the base pay they offered was very good! And the tips I’d earned had been better.

Add in the fact that I enjoyed the job, well, I said yes.

I got a call asking me to come work that weekend. It seems one of my previous customers had recommended me to a friend. That friend had specifically asked for me.

I think I nearly swallowed my tongue when I heard who. A fairly well known Pro Football player. Okay, crush much! In my eyes, this guy had the most perfect ass in the NFL. Judging from some slow mo filming, it was obvious he had a big fat dick as well! Yeah, his face was on the edge of being homely, but ooh that body!

For the purpose of this story we’ll call him Jordan.

So, the day of his arrival, I was at the hotel, waiting to be called. When the call came I traded my fan boy face for my professional face. Went out to meet Jordan.

You know how people look different in real life? Jordan was one of those who were more impressive!

To start Jordan is six foot three. Weighs 220 pounds. (Yeah,I looked it up). That’s 220 pounds of muscle. I’m six foot, but Jordan seemed to tower over me. Thick neck, broad shouldered, narrow waist, thick arms ,thighs, hands and feet. I know there are bigger players in the NFL, but damn was the man impressive.

Jordan wasn’t handsome by any stretch of the imagination. In fact he bordered being homely. Sandy crew cut. Heavy brows, green eyes, big nose, big ears, big dopey grin with crooked teeth.

I introduced myself and Jordan’s eyes kind of lit up. We shook hands ,his big mitts nearly swallowing mine. I helped the bell hop load his surprisingly light luggage , took the elevator and escorted him to his room.

After the bell hop left, I explained the various hotel amenities. That’s when I learned who’d referred me to him. Seems he was friends with a certain soccer player, I’d taken care of a couple years ago. It also seems said soccer player shared quite a bit about our interaction. Namely the happy ending massage, that our services do not include.

I was flabbergasted! This guy I’d had a crush on for ages, was suggesting I give him a full body massage. All of the way to a happy ending. And not just from a dick massage!

From all that I’d read about him he was a very happily married straight man with kids.

Maybe I was misreading Jordan’s intentions. Maybe the soccer player didn’t share just how he got his happy ending! Still? Unlike the previous encounter, this time I didn’t try to protest that it wasn’t part of the service. Keeping this job no longer mattered to me. Being invited to put my hands all over this man? That mattered!

I explained I would have to get my hands on some massage lotion. He gave me that lop sided grin. Opened a side pouch in his suitcase and tossed me a bottle. A very expensive bottle of sandalwood scented oil. The man came prepared.

Regretfully, he had a charity event to attend. The whole reason he was even in town. And I had several hours on the clock yet to be finished. We made a pact to meet in his room late that night.

I bumbled through the rest of my shift with a half hard dick. The hours felt like days.

Finally I was finished. I changed out of my work clothes and into my customary tee, jeans and boots. Shoved a couple of things in my back pack. Then as unobtrusively as I could, made my way to Jordan’s room.

Jordan answered the door in one of the hotel bathrobes. Freshly showered if his wet hair was any indication. He stood there a beat, eyes traveling over my body. He gave me that trademark lop sided grin, and motioned me inside. As I slipped inside, he stepped back.

“So? How shall we do this?” He asked in a deep voice.

” First let me plug this in, pulling an oil warmer from my bag. And give me that oil you brought.”

Once I had the oil warming I went into the bathroom. Grabbed the oversized bath towel I knew would be in there. Spread it over the carpet. As I hustled about I swear I could feel Jordan’s eyes watching every inch of me. Hell, I don’t know maybe I was walking funny. A big old erection in tight jeans,can cause difficulty walking.

Once I judged the oil was warmed enough, I turned to Jordan.

“Please strip down as far as you’re comfortable and lay down on the towel.”. Jordan ditched his robe and stood there in all his naked glory. He had the body of a Greek god. Blonde hair covered everything, causing a golden halo all over. Despite the covering of hair, every muscle was sculpted and defined. I would have thought, being so fair, his big nipples would have been pink. Instead they were a light brown in color.

And there ,slowly rising from golden pubes, was his fat cut cock. With a reddish knob. Generous hairy balls completed the package.

I left it to Jordan to decide which side I should start on. I was almost disappointed when he lay on his back. I was dying to see that perfect ass! Still? As my hungry eyes traveled over his magnificent body, any disappointment faded.

I stripped down to my boxer briefs. Jordan made an appreciative sound as he took in my long lean hairy body. Then his eyes landed on the tent in my briefs. I saw his eyes go wide as he licked his lips.

I grabbed the oil and dribbled it on my hands. I took one of his big long feet in hand and began to massage it. Jordan made a groan of bliss.

I smirked. One thing I’ve learned from my massage class? Ninety percent of the time, people love having their feet massaged more than almost any part of their body. Jordan was no exception.

After I’d given his feet both a good rub, I could feel tension leave his body. I started up his muscular calves, with their golden coating of hair. Then I was massaging heavy thighs.

Jordan’s cock looked rock hard. As I got closer it twitched and leaked. His eyes were half lidded and seemed to glitter in anticipation of my hands on his cock.

Instead I asked him to turn over.

No way was I going to touch his cock before I saw the best ass in the NFL! In all it’s naked glory!

There it was! And everything I’d dreamed it would be!

High! Full! Muscular, even relaxed. Plenty of golden fur.

I swallowed a sudden mouth full of drool.

I straddled his thighs, making sure my fabric covered boner was lined up with his butt cleft. Hey, we both knew this was no ordinary massage. Plus, he outweighed me by at least thirty pounds. There was nothing I could do that he wasn’t okay with.

I began working oil into his shoulders and arms. I actually found a couple of knots that needed to be worked loose. Then it was that oh so broad back. More knots. Jordan must have been carrying some serious stress around.

I was so intent on getting the knots out, I almost forgot my dick was pressing into the cleft of his ass. Almost!

Then there was only that butt left to oil and massage. As I kneaded those firm globes, Jordan tried to spread his legs, but my thighs had him trapped.

I was surprised when Jordan reached back with both mitts and spread his cheeks apart.

His suddenly exposed pucker was winking at me. Very pink, very hot!

I dribbled some oil beneath his tailbone and watch it trickle across his pucker. When the oil hit it, it clenched and Jordan groaned. Then the oil slipped across his taint and down the back of his balls.

I reached down to fondle those oily balls. Jordan squirmed and gasped. “Hell yeah! Play with my nuts! Feels so fucking good!”

I used my other hand to trail an oiled finger up and down his taint. Jordan moaned into the towel and spread his ass wider in invitation.

“Massage my hole, Rusty! “

I didn’t have any problem following that demand.

I’d barely circled his pucker once! “Slide it in! Stick your finger inside me! I want it inside me!”

Obeying, I pushed at the tight muscle. Jordan pushed back and my finger slid in deep.

Honestly? I thought I might just cum in my shorts! I’m kneeling across the thighs, my finger buried in the fine ass, of a pro NFL player!

I must have paused to long. Jordan began pumping his hips, fucking himself on my finger.

“More!” He demanded. “Want to feel full! Want my hole to feel stretched out!”

I obliged.

Jordan was like a greedy pig. He soon had three fingers buried in his hole. I didn’t even have to move my fingers. He energetically fucked himself with those happy fingers.

I slid my ball stroking hand under him to grip his fat hard cock. Thinking he wanted to cum.

I was wrong.

“No! Not ready to cum! I need your big dick in me! I want you to fill up my hole with dick!”

I got up and went to my bag. Pulled out a condom, ripped the foil open and dropping my briefs, slid it on.

Jordan squirmed to his knees, keeping his face on the floor. Then his hands were spreading that beautiful butt apart once more!

I took a bit of time just to stare at the fantastic sight. This big jock, spreading his cheeks, exposing his manhole for me.

Me!

“God! Will you come over here and put it in me already! I need your cock! I need it now!”

Geesh! Bossy much?

I hurried over and knelt behind him. Jordan hissed when I pressed the head of my dick against his slit.

“Yeah buddy! That’s it! Bury your cock inside me! Push it in!”

(Pushy, Pushy.)

I pushed in slowly. Jordan wasn’t having that. He bucked back, burying half my cock in his ass.

He kind of squealed.

I don’t think he realized just how fat my cock is. It’s easily as wide as four fingers and a thumb. And not at the tips! At the knuckles.

“Shit! You’re splitting me open!” He gasped. I felt his legs shake against my thighs. I could see him biting his lower lip.

I grabbed his hips and held him in place. Let him adjust to my intruding girth.

It took at least a minute, maybe two or three, for his breath to even out. He’d dropped his hands to the floor. Bracing himself against the sudden pain.

Me? I was staring at my own cock, wedged between those glorious cheeks, stretching pink ass lips wide. My happy cock, buried halfway inside the body of a famous football star. My cock! Inside a famous Wide Receiver!

Jordan began to move. This time slower. I watched in awe as his glorious ass slowly sucked my cock all of the way inside.

Obscene words slipped from Jordan’s lips as he was stretched open and filled.

“Ye a ahh! I can feel your big cock filling my hole! I feel so fucking stretched out! It burns my hole so good! God! Your cock feels huge inside my ass!

Who knew seemingly quiet Jordan was so vocal.

After a few minute or two, Jordan moved on the cock impaling his body. Rotating my dick inside him must have caused it to slide over his prostate. His body trembled and he let out a big groan. He rotated his hips again, gasping each time my cock rubbed over his gland.

A little bit of my cock slipped in and out with each rotation. I placed a hand on each cheek to spread that beautiful ass wide. Now I could see those pink stretched tight ass lips clinging to my dick. Watched them stretch slightly out, then indent in.

Jordan had gut control.

I felt like a hot wet massager had a hold of me. I could feel his insides clutching my cock like a hand, then letting go.

Up to this point, I’d let Jordan be in control.

No more!

I slowly pulled halfway out. Then slowly slipped back inside of him. Jordan hummed in appreciation. I continued moving in and out slowly. Each time pulling out a bit farther. I could tell I was scraping against his joy button on each long stroke. Jordan making encouraging sounds on each stroke.

Grabbing his hips, I began to speed up my hip thrusts. Jordan got vocal. Demanding I pound his hole harder and harder. I was very happy to comply.

Soon the oil coating his ass and now my groin caused smacking sounds to fill his suite. Jordan alternated curses with grunts and whimpers.

Several times his whole body locked up rigid. I think he was having anal orgasms.

Usually I take a while to cum. But the mental aspect of just who I was fucking? Well, let’s just say it sped me up! I could feel my cum churning, my dick head letting me know I was close. I reached around Jordan to pump his cock.

It only took a few hard pumps, and Jordan was bellowing that he was cumming. I felt his fat dick jerking in my hand and his release slicking it.

A few more slapping thrusts and I was cumming deep inside of him.

It was one of the most intense orgasms of my life!

I’m sure there was a mental aspect to it’s intensity. Cumming inside the perfect ass of a famous wide receiver had to be a major factor of my incredible orgasm.

When he’d shot the last of his load, Jordan collapsed back onto his face, my cock slipping from his hole. Still on his knees, butt still in the air, I could see his hole was gaped open, the edges fluttering, trying to close.

Finally, Jordan rolled over on his back. Gave me he one of his lop sided smiles.

His eyes traveled down my body to rest on my cock. On my still hard cock! On the cum filling the condom tip!

His hand trembling slightly, he worked the condom off my cock. Maneuvered his body around and began licking my cock clean. Making sure to peel my foreskin back to get every bit.

Watching the rugged face of this “straight” man at my groin and feeling his tongue did nothing to deflate my cock.

Suddenly Jordan was up, grabbing another condom, tearing it open, and sliding it on my dick.

Then he flopped to his back, grabbed behind his knees, pulled them back, exposing his still somewhat loose hole again.

He grinned at me,”Looks like your massager is still ready to go. Think you can manage another round from this side?”

In answer, I just knee walked in place between his outstretched thighs, lined my pole up with his hole.

And pushed back inside that hard gorgeous body!

Jordan squealed! Big bad football player. Squealed like a stuck pig. This time his hole swallowed me to the balls.

I grabbed his hard calves and spread his legs wide. I went straight to pounding his loosened manhole. Watched his hairy balls and half hard dick bounce with every thrust. Watched the various expressions on his face as my fat cock massaged his joy gland.

I was pounding into him so hard I was moving his 220 pound body across the floor. A sheen of sweat glowed on every hard muscle of his belly and chest. He was reduced to uttering “Fuck Me, God Fucking Damn, Pound My Ass etc.”, interspersed with animal growls and grunts.

The rougher I fucked, the more Jordan egged me on. No pansy ass gentle fucks for this man.

Jordan tensed and for the second time cum dribbled from his cock. He begged me to cum inside his ass. Begged me to keep pounding, even after he came.

I was thrilled to oblige.

As my ass assault continued, cum kept oozing from his no longer hard cock slit. It would take longer for me to spew this time. Which only seemed to make Jordan happy. I think that man’s ass could have swallowed my cock for hours.

Judging from his face, the way his body would seize up and curses, the now Loose Wide Receiver, went through several anal orgasms. Must have had a very sensitive prostate.

When I did cum?

He reached around his spread thighs to grab my hips and keep me lodged deep inside his ass.

Finally spent, I dropped his legs and collapsed on his hard sweaty body. Jordan wrapped his big arms around me and hugged me tight.

Jordan stayed the whole weekend, even though his charity gig was over Friday night.

Me? I got to find out just how big of a bottom this famous Wide Receiver really was. It was a great fucking weekend for yours truly.

Maybe, I’ll find time to share the rest of the story some day.

( I have never told anyone before writing for Gay Demon, about either Jordan or the famous soccer player! Who’d believe me anyway! Especially since I’ve never heard even a hint of a rumor about either one of them fucking around with other men. As to who they are? Well, I changed their names to ones not even close to their real ones. This is as close as I’m willing to come to outing someone. Their proclivities and sexual antics are their business. And if the readers don’t believe? That’s fine! As long as the story was enjoyed!)

P.S. I still work at the hotel occasionally! And while I never hooked up with anyone else famous there, I still occasionally find some less famous hot holes in need of filling! I love that hotel!

Acquitted

-Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what’s your verdict?

-Non guilty, Your Honour.

At last we all sighed in relief. It had been a difficult trial and sometimes we thought Lucas would have to go to jail.

It was all due to Mrs. Lampard. In the past weeks, our neighbours started to notice there were things, especially money, that they had been stolen and I don’t know how they had found out it had been our adopted son and gardener. We had returned them everything and sometimes we had to bribe them offering them twice as much what Lucas had stolen. But our neighbor Mrs. Lampard had been adamant. She was a single lady in her sixties with a terrible character and she was unmoved. For her, Lucas was a thief and he should end up in jail, that simple.

The attorney was unyielding and made Lucas explain all he had done, but later the defence lawyer made him tell all the circumstances of his young life that had led him to do what he had done. I thought then that the members of the jury were as moved as Daniela and I had been that first night when we met Lucas. But in the end, both my wife and I had been called and we showed our legal papers and explained that Lucas Tucker, his legal name now, was our son, and we would always take care of him and would be responsible for him. If he ever stole again, we’d return the money. Our good economic situation made the jury sure that if there were any more thefts, we would pay them. But of course Lucas didn’t steal now any longer. Now he had everything he’d never had in life and had always needed.

We left the court at last and first we went to a bar to celebrate.

-I’ve been acquitted. Sorry for the problems I’ve caused you so far, mum and John –it was certainly difficult for Lucas to call me dad.

-Now you have parents, a house and a job, Lucas. You have not disappointed us and never will again. Now let’s head to the safety of our house.

That was a very special day for Lucas. We were all day doing the things he liked most and he was for example a good long while watching his mother’s new sculpture, one related to Egyptian mythology, a recreation of Apis.

At night, he finally headed to his bedroom and I was a while more with Daniela watching TV, till at last I did what I wanted to do, especially in such a special day for our son, and having my wife’s encouraging words for that, and went up the stairs to Lucas’ bedroom.

He had not locked the door and after opening, I saw him on his bed, not asleep yet, in just his briefs.

-John, what are you doing here?

-I’m gonna sleep with you, Lucas.

-But what about mum?

-I can sleep with her every night but I can also sleep with you sometimes. Don’t worry: Daniela knows what I’m doing –I said already stripping of everything and watching his boner- and wants me to do it. You’re my son now but also my lover and if I see you desire more, I can even become your boyfriend, my sexy Lucas.

And totally nude now, I jumped into his bed and the first thing I did was pulling down his boxers. Now he was totally nude beside me. I surrounded his perfect body with mine and started to touch him and my lips soon found his. Something I already knew he loved is being kissed by me, by his father, or by John, as he still called me.

-I think what you have missed your whole life, Lucas, is warmth. I’m here to give you the warmth you need and assure you that you’ll always have my fire –and unexpectedly, being his dick hard as a rock, I jumped to it and started to fuck myself on my son’s manhood at the same time I told him-. Now fuck me, my sexy Lucas.

-Oh, are you sure, John? You know I don’t need this.

-Of course you need it, Lucas. The only missing thing in your life now is a boyfriend, a man you can have sex with every day. And I’ll give you now what you need. This won’t be the only time. Tell me whether I have an ass you like.

-You have the most perfect of asses, dad –and that was the first time he called me dad. Now not only him had everything; I also felt I finally had what I had been unconsciously looking for my whole life: a son. His face was damp with moved tears and my eyes were soon a river too.

-I’m not your biological father, Lucas, if that was worrying you and of course we can have sex. You could have met me in other circumstances and I’m sure I am a man you would have chosen. And you’ve made me know I also like boys; maybe I could have chosen you too. So why can’t a father and a son have sex if they both agree?

-I love you, dad, I need to cum.

And in that moment I felt the first load of my adopted son’s semen inside me. His fucking had not even hurt me and it had been the best sexual experience I’d ever had, except the sex I had with Daniela, of course.

-Now I will suck my father’s cock.

-I’ll make you believe that I’ll always be here for you and will gift you this warmth every day. You can always count on me; your father’s shoulders are yours to lean on –I was telling him in the midst of the most perfect blowjob he’d ever given me-. However strong your feelings can be, I am your father and as a father I’ll always love you and help you in life. And as a mother Daniela loves you, and she will always like having his husband and his son making love. You’re so good today that I need to cum.

-Good –he said, of course swallowing every drop of my jism.

-This can be the most special day of your life, Lucas Ridgeway Biosca Tucker and it continues. Now I’ll suck your cock one more time.

-Go for it, my sexy father.

It was really tasty now when I had already decided I would be Lucas’ lover forever. I didn’t notice love in his eyes yet, but if I ever noticed it, I would even become his boyfriend. But now I was finally determined to give him sex every day. I desired it, I so desired it! And now he was calm that he could also have sex with his father, because we agreed and he noticed how good I felt every time I had sex with him. So our father and son bond could be increased like this. I would come to his bed at least twice a week but every day I’d have sex with Lucas. All this I was telling him as I sucked his cock and being sure now that this sexy man, as he called me, was his lover forever, he filled me again with his savoury nectar.

He asked me to fuck him now but I told him no more sex tonight please and let us simply cuddle and sleep together, two lovers, a loving father and his loving son.

The next day we informed Daniela of what we had done and our commitment to somehow be lovers or even boyfriends. Daniela smiled and congratulated us and kissed her son.

-Now you really belong to this family, Lucas. And I’m your mother and John is your father and you already call him dad, as it should.

Daniela’s next sculpture was going to be a sleeping boy, a boy in bed with all his clothes on, of course. Lucas offered to be her mother’s model and I was there watching my son and my wife with moist eyes, a moving family, though apparently strange.